Chapter 26
Casyl
Danae’s powers were beginning to falter. The strain of holding such enormous walls of fire was draining her of energy. She could only hold them for so long.
Sweat ran down her face, her hair plastered to her skull. Her skin was blistering from the heat of the inferno.
He instinctively ran through the rift towards her. As soon as her powers were doused, the creatures would descend on her, full of revenge. They roared and shrieked as they tried to pass through the fire and the white-hot flames singed their monstrous bodies.
He reached her just in time as the fire died, and the creatures were once again free. They turned on her as she collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. She raised her sword just in time to block the claws of the first creature to reach her.
Casyl moved to stand over her protectively, parrying the creatures’ attacks rather than trying to wound them.
The other warriors joined them, fighting the creatures off, but there were so many that they were pushing them back.
If they got to the rift, all of this would be for nothing. He knew that, and so did Danae.
Danae screamed at Eleandor to close the rift. It had to happen now, before the creatures forced them back into the human world.
He barely had time to glance back as the onslaught from the creatures increased in ferocity, as if they knew what was happening.
Where was Amelia? He glanced back at the rift.
She stood with her arms raised, holding something that shimmered in the light. She smiled at him, and he suddenly knew what she was about to do.
His eyes went wide as she brought her hands down, plunging the dagger into her chest.
He reacted without thinking, dropping his sword and running for the rift, screaming her name, forgetting the creatures and the battle behind him.
The rift began to close. It shivered and shrank as Amelia’s face disappeared.
He threw himself towards it but struck a solid barrier that denied him entry.
“Amelia!” he roared.
He had no time to think. He remembered the battle behind him and spun around to face the creatures again.
“We need to go!” Danae shouted. “Get the men out of the forest. I’ll hold them off.”
She’d recovered enough energy to raise her walls of fire briefly as the fae fled the forest.
Casyl stayed close to her, guarding her, as she backed away, knowing she could only hold it for another moment.
When the flames receded, they dashed towards the opening in the trees. The creatures were following. Their huge, sinewy bodies crashed through the forest, tearing branches that slowed them, screaming as they gave chase.
They emerged onto open land, where soldiers had gathered, ready to fight the beasts should they leave the ancient forest.
The creatures roared in frustration but stopped near the clearing. They came no further.
They collapsed to the ground.
Smoke from Danae’s fire lingered in the breeze.
“She sacrificed herself,” Casyl said, shaking his head.
The crushing pain in his chest made it hard to breathe. It had been a long time since he’d lost anything that he cared about. She couldn’t be dead.
“What do you mean? We knew she would stay.” Danae frowned in concern. She hadn’t seen what had happened. She’d been too busy fighting the Leshies.
“Where is Eleandor?” he said through gritted teeth. He stood, a sudden rage consuming him. That old bastard would know what had happened.
He stormed through the field like thunder. Eleandor stood in the distance talking to Elthar.
Sensing his approach, they turned towards him. Eleandor took one look at his expression and stepped back.
“What the fuck happened, old man?” Casyl snarled as he stormed towards him, pushing him to the ground. He would kill him with his bare hands.
“Stop!” Elthar commanded.
He would not be told or ordered around by anyone again.
He grabbed Eleandor by his collar, pulling his face close. Casyl caught his own wild expression reflected in Eleandor’s eyes. “What did you do?” he roared.
Men tried to grab him, to get him off the Wise One, screaming in agony as soon as their hands connected with him.
“Answer me!”
Ruven came running towards them. “Can you stop him?” Elthar pleaded.
“Casyl!” Ruven yelled. “Casyl, let go of him!” He knelt next to them, knowing better than to touch him when he was like this. They’d shared centuries together. “What did he do?”
Casyl released the Wise One, violently pushing him back towards the ground. “Ask him! Ask him what the fuck caused Amelia to plunge a dagger into herself!” He fell to his knees. His anger suddenly left him. “Why… why would she do that?”
Ruven’s expression fell. “Amelia’s dead?”
Eleandor sat up, struggling to catch his breath after Casyl’s grip had nearly strangled him. Colour slowly returned to his face. “She had no choice.” He shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry, Casyl, but it was the only way.”
“You said that you could close the rift!”
“She was the reason it wouldn’t close. It wasn’t open because of her; it was open through her.”
He didn’t understand. She’d been the one to open the rift.
“She shouldn’t have existed,” the sage breathed.
“What? What do you mean?”
Silence.
“Her mother was one of us.”
The world seemed to stop.
Suddenly, everything seemed to make sense. The voiding, the rift. The way magic recoiled from her.
“A single body cannot hold both fae and human energy. They negate,” Eleandor said.
The revelation hollowed him.
She was part-fae. A half-blood. That was why she could void their power. She had never truly belonged in either world.
He thought of the way magic failed around her, as if it rejected her. The way she’d crossed worlds.
His father had recognised what she was. Tiryn had known the truth and kept it from Casyl. Even Salkin had known.
It had never been because she was human. She was an anomaly. She shouldn’t have been. But she was, and that made everything possible.
“Maybe if we’d had more time, there might have been another way. But the creatures were close to breaking through, and the human army was so close behind. She made a decision. She chose to save her people, to save us, to give us all a chance.”
Any response died on his tongue. He was numb. His men couldn’t see him like this.
He turned to Ruven, defeated.
With his father’s death, he was now the de facto king. Such an empty title. King of the barren land where his people had been banished.
“Where’s Tharos?”
“I haven’t seen him,” Ruven replied. They scanned the field for him.
His eyes went wide.
“Some men didn’t make it through before Amelia… closed it. Tharos was at the rear.”
They both went quiet. Tharos had been like a brother to both of them, and now he was trapped back in the human lands. If anyone could keep the remaining men safe, it would be him.
Today’s loss was too great. There were no words.
“I’m sorry.” Elthar approached. “What they sacrificed for us won’t be forgotten.”
Casyl nodded, unable to speak.
“We need to discuss what happens next. Join us in High City. It’s closer than your lands.”
He didn’t want to think about that right now. It was hard to organise his thoughts. He wanted to grieve for Amelia, but he could not do so publicly. His men were his responsibility now and their welfare and their futures rested with him.
He’d go for their sake.
The remaining soldiers of the two armies prepared to ride home. Elthar left a small group behind to monitor the forest.
Ruven rode beside him at the front with Elthar and Eleandor.
“Why did the creatures stop when we left the forest?” he wondered aloud. “It makes no sense. They chased us in the human lands.” He paused, thinking. “Perhaps they were trying to get us away from the rift.”
“Guardians of the realm,” Eleandor said.
*
The towers of the High City loomed in the distance. Rooms had already been prepared for their arrival. Casyl made sure his men were well cared for and then went to his room to rest.
He wanted to sink into the dark oblivion, but the faces of Amelia and Tharos came to him unbidden. He’d failed them both.
Alone in the dark, he could finally grieve for her. His vision blurred. Only then did he realise that he was weeping.
Tears pooled in his eyes as he tried to hold them back, but a few escaped and ran down his face for the first time in centuries.
He was a commander, and now a king. He had led thousands of men into battle, stared death in the face and defied it.
Yet now he sat on the edge of his bed and fell apart.
He had defied his own death, but he could not face hers.
When he finally fell asleep, she haunted his dreams. He never wanted to wake up.
He awoke to sunlight that streamed through the window across his face. None of this was real.
Why did he continue to stay in this limbo? He remained in this world, unable to find anything left in it for him.
He made his way up the winding staircase of the tower until he reached the door to the roof.
He walked out into the sunlight that shone down onto the rooftop terrace.
The kiss of its warmth, which he’d once enjoyed, now failed to reach him.
A breeze curled around him as though urging him back as he approached the edge.
He looked down at the city below, admiring it.
This was the first time in centuries that he’d been able to look upon the streets of the High City without disguising himself, understanding now why it was known as the Bowl of the Gods.
The city was so high up, and the sight from the tower gave him the perfect view of the crater into which the city had been built.
Had he done enough good in his life to be allowed to ascend, or would he descend into the Shadowlands? The thought of spending eternity in the shadows gave him pause.
He closed his eyes. It would only take a step.
“Enjoying the view?” Ruven asked from behind. “It’s quite something, isn’t it? I’ve never seen it from this angle.”
Casyl opened his eyes and exhaled as Ruven came closer.
They stood together for a moment in silence.
“She might not be dead, you know.”
Casyl glared at him. Had he said that, knowing it would stop him? Casyl avoided Ruven’s gaze and looked out across the city.
“I saw it happen,” Casyl said through gritted teeth. “The rift closed.”
Could she still be alive? A flutter of hope bloomed in his chest.
“There are priests downstairs talking to Elthar. This has caused quite a stir.” Ruven chuckled, suddenly turning serious.
“But if you think of doing this again, for even one moment, of leaving me here alone to deal with this cursed existence, I’ll kill you myself.
Whether I descend or not. If you want to talk, I’m here.
If you want to fight, I’m here. But this, I won’t let you do.
” And he stood waiting until Casyl turned and walked back through the door to the stairs.
Ruven led him to the meeting that was taking place between Elthar and the priests. Casyl hated the priests.
They became quiet at his arrival, regarding him with distaste when he entered.
The high priest sat before them in his blue velvet robes. He recognised the man beside him, the scholar. He’d been with Amelia the day that Casyl had taken her from them.
“Ah, Casyl,” King Elthar greeted him. He was now dressed in the splendour that showed his rank. “We were just informing the priests of everything we’ve recently learned.”
Casyl barely listened as Elthar explained what he’d told the priests. He flinched as Elthar spoke of the rift closing.
“And you concur with his retelling?” the high priest asked.
“Yes.”
“It is all still speculation.”
“Is Eleandor’s word not good enough for you?” he asked them.
“He could not be certain of everything. His visions are interpretations. Perhaps if we had been there to see this, it would be easier to believe,” the high priest said.
“Do you doubt the word of your King?” Elthar demanded, rising to his full height. “I was there. I saw it.”
They were sensible enough to stay quiet.
“We need to discuss our kingdoms,” Elthar said, facing Casyl. He turned his back on the priests. “We now have an alliance, and you are king of your lands. Our people should be connected again as we once were. Now that your father is dead, I see no issue between our kingdoms.”
“There has been too much division,” he agreed.
“This could be your opportunity to atone,” the priest said.
Casyl snarled him into silence.
This was a monumental moment in their people’s history; centuries of war and division ended by the death of his father, but he struggled to find any joy in it.
“I need to take my warriors back home,” Casyl told him.
“Yes, of course. I’m sure you have your own affairs to attend to. We’ll meet soon to discuss this further.”
“Do you want to see your mother before you go? I know it has been a long time for you both.”
He wondered if she’d heard about Tiryn’s death.
“Not right now.” It was not the time for a family reunion.
Elthar nodded.
Casyl made to leave, then suddenly turned to the high priest. “Do you have your book of holy lore with you?”
The high priest raised an eyebrow. “Having a spiritual awakening, Casyl?”
“Something like that.”
The priest stood, passing him a small black book bound in leather. Gold lines decorated its spine, and a gold star was raised on its cover. “I go nowhere without a copy. You can keep it.”
Book in hand, he returned to his room, planning to take it back with him, but something made him open it. He skimmed the pages. Most of it contained the priests’ nonsensical teachings on how to live and please the gods. Then he found what he was looking for.
It is then that we shall leave this world.
Our bodies will become one with the energy of the universe, and our souls will be judged.
Those who prove true will live in peace in a tranquil land until the ascension.
Those who have lost their way will live in harsh, desolate lands.
They will wear their sins for all to see, marked by deformities and shunned by the pure, until their descent into the darkness of the Shadowlands, should they remain wayward.
The Shadowlands lie beneath the realms of the living, touching all worlds but belonging to none, divided from them by the veil.
He turned to the last page.
And the prophecy will ring true. The descendant will arrive unexpectedly to unite the fae, for not all will believe. The balance will be restored, and those who remain will face the judgement of the gods.
And there at the bottom of the page, he saw the strange runes that had been carved into the cave wall.
Was Amelia the descendant? Her mixed blood had bridged both worlds. She’d also united the fae of the Wildlands and the High City.
But if fae blood ran through her veins, could it have kept her alive?