Chapter 78
The King
The clip of my boots bounced off the low ceiling and walls that created the small, hidden passageway beneath the manor.
Except for the occasional sconce, the tunnel was dark, disguising my comings and goings and hiding the singular door at the end of the passage.
It’d been months since I’d visited the final remaining Keeper, Jarius.
And today’s visit would be neither pleasant nor long.
A cup of tea rattled against its plate as I shifted it between my hands, allowing for my right to freely touch the softly glowing Mage Orb next to the handleless door.
Recognizing my signature, the door popped open with a faint whoosh of air.
I gently pushed the door further, the hinges squeaking from disuse, before entering through the small gap and pushing it shut.
The magical lock re-engaged with an audible click, and my eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness of the room.
It was tiny, with just a small fireplace—grated, of course, I couldn’t have my Keepers killing themselves while I was still in need of their visions—on one wall and a cot on the other.
A small table wide enough for two chairs occupied the space between.
That is where I found Jarius, his eyes closed and face relaxed, arms crossed across his thinning body.
“Hello, Truthsayer,” he rasped, his body unmoving apart from his cracked lips.
“Jarius,” I grunted, crossing the short distance between the doorway and the table before sinking into the only other chair. It creaked with my weight, and I maneuvered a bit to find a comfortable location.
“Not as comfortable as they look, hmm?” the Keeper said with a smile in his voice. How he could remain so positive in his situation was a feat beyond my comprehension.
Perhaps the prison beneath the Academy would have been a better location. But I’d told Rohak I’d disposed of the Keeper, and keeping him in plain sight would not have gone over well with my second-in-command.
“To what do I owe the pleasure today, King?” Jarius asked, finally opening his eyes to fix me with an unwavering stare.
His eyes, like all Keepers, were an unnerving shade of ice blue—so bright and clear it felt like I could see the whole of time in his irises.
Or that he could see the very depths of my blackened soul.
Maybe he could.
“Just a friendly chat,” I said, sliding the cup of tea toward him. Jarius cocked one white eyebrow at me before slowly untwining his arms and reaching a thin hand across to grasp the handle of the teacup. He brought it to his nose and took an audible sniff before his lips quirked up in surprise.
“Whiskey in my tea?” he cackled happily, taking a delicate sip before settling back against the rickety chair. “What an honor.”
“That’s Hestin whiskey, too. None of that shit from here,” I said, proudly. “It’s the last of it, too, Keeper.”
“Wasting the last of your precious alcohol on me, Truthsayer? You’re growing soft.”
I huffed a laugh as Jarius took another small sip, slurping slightly. He twirled the teacup in his delicate fingers before setting it down on its saucer with a tiny clink.
“A side of poison with the whiskey and tea, I taste,” he said quietly, his eyes sad, but it was the understanding there that felt like a hot knife through my chest. Despite our differences and allegiances, I’d grown to like the bastard over the past year.
He was arguably more reliable than the previous Keeper I kept down here—one that had been my advisor since boyhood.
There was something that drew me to him, made me let down my guard.
In another life, we could have been friends.
I shot him a sad, thin smile. “You know this is how it has to be, Keeper.”
Jarius sighed, closing his eyes again, and I was thankful to be released from his probing gaze.
“How long.” It wasn’t a question, just a weary statement.
Another knife to the gut.
“Minutes. Maybe a half-hour at most. I was assured it was painless. Like drifting to sleep.”
“Just a sleep I never wake from,” he said wryly, and I huffed another humorless laugh.
“Exactly.”
Jarius raised his head and opened his eyes. I expected hatred, anger, even pleading. But the sadness—the pity—I found swimming in his ice-blue orbs nearly keeled me over.
“I am sorry, King, that it had to be this way. That it has to end like this. You were given a burden at such a young age that no person, especially a young boy, should have to carry. We’re supposed to protect our littlest ones, not put them in direct danger.
Not sacrifice them.” His voice cracked at the end of his statement, and he pulled his gaze away from mine to wipe at his eyes.
I felt my own grow moist at his declaration.
When I was younger, I lamented the harsh unfairness of this world, the responsibilities that were placed in my lap, the burden I had to carry alone.
But those notions were quickly shed—they had to be if I was to survive.
Befriending Rohak was my only respite, the only other shoulders that helped to relieve the weight of my decisions, of my plans.
But now even he was lost to me.
A necessary loss, but one that pained me more than I cared to admit.
This path was a lonely one, and it was nearing its end.
“What is fair is not always right,” I croaked, scrubbing at the scruff on my chin.
Jarius gathered himself with a deep, shaky inhale before turning back to his whiskey-and-poison-laced tea before downing the remainder in two large gulps.
“No. It’s not, Truthsayer. I’m afraid I have no more to show you, no more to tell you.
My visions are murky and muddled at best. Solace is hell-bent on destroying the Elyria we know, at besting Fate himself”—he shook his head at the thought—“I’m disgusted to say I followed her for so long.
Gave false visions for so long and to so many, thinking they were right.
How many lives could I have saved, how much destruction could I have prevented, if I had the wherewithal to see through her lies? ”
It was a rhetorical question, and not one I would have the answers to even if he was probing me.
“It was always meant to be this way,” is what I said instead.
“Perhaps. Or maybe we deviated somewhere and created the mess we have before us now.”
The two of us sat in silence, lost to our own thoughts and speculations.
“I was wrong about her,” I admitted, and Jarius picked his head up with a frown.
“Who?”
“The godling.”
Jarius’ eyebrows hit his hairline at my admission.
“She was never mine. She is uncontrollable, untamable. And I pity the fool who tries to fit her into a box again. I tried, her parents tried, fuck, even the gods tried. But she’s something different, something unique.
And trying to control her will ultimately be Elyria’s downfall,” I admitted.
I’d never be able to apologize to Ellowyn now.
I was just another in a long line of people she trusted who tried to tame her, mold her into what they wanted, into a weapon.
I had no doubt she’d destroy the gods, but it would be on her terms. I had to trust, now, that I had laid the foundation and she’d carry on with the mission.
“I’m sorry that some of my visions were not always accurate,” Jarius said, his voice growing progressively weaker as the poison took hold of his body.
I shrugged. “It’s the nature of it all. You’re still confident in this course of action, yes?” I clenched and unclenched my sweaty hands, nervous for his answer, but needed the affirmation all the same.
If every vision he gave me was a lie, then my work would be for nothing. My plans and years spent plotting and maneuvering completely wasted. Relationships and happiness thrown away for a lie.
The Keeper sighed with his whole body, his muscles loosening. “To the best of my knowledge, yes. Fate doesn’t want you to fail, Truthsayer.” He whispered the last part so quietly I almost didn’t hear him.
“I stopped believing in Fate a long time ago, Keeper. Your religious zeal would better serve my General.”
He huffed a tired laugh. “Though I suppose you destroyed some of that faith, too, in your quest.”
I stayed quiet, absently picking the calluses on my hands and willing the poison to work faster. I was already well aware of my flaws, I didn’t need them spread before me by a dying man.
Jarius gasped suddenly, pulling my gaze from my hands. He looked wildly around the room at something only he could see.
“They come, Truthsayer.” His voice was oddly melodic yet monotone, his irises so pale they were nearly white. “The time comes—the gods walk Elyria once more. It is time for two to rise so two others may fall”—he turned his terrifying gaze on me, and I felt the hair raise on my arms—“go, now.”
Jarius gestured to the door, and I sprang from my seat.
They were here. The gods were here. All my plans, all my preparation, for this moment.
“There is still time, Truthsayer,” Jarius said in a whisper. I paused and looked over my shoulder at the final Keeper. “Still time to change your path.”
“Is the outcome the same?” I rasped.
The Keeper paused, a small smile on his face. “Not in the way you think.”
I shook my head, dismissing the notion immediately. “Then that is not the pathway for me.”
“It is sealed, then. I will see you soon, Truthsayer,” Jarius whispered as he slowly closed his eyes, his body slumping against the back of the chair, arms resting on the top of his legs.
A forever sleep.
“See you in the ether, Keeper.”
I didn’t bother closing the door behind me as I strode from the room, my steps quickening as I traversed the hall until I was practically running for the opposite door, the one that would carry me up and out into Vespera.
My boots thumped against the stones and my breaths came in pants as I took the stairs two at a time, my heart beating wildly from the exertion and the inevitable battle to come.
Solace and Kaos were here. The rebellion was here.
The second Sundering was upon us.
And it would begin with my death.