Set in Darkness (Illumine #1)

Prologue

T he Judgement of the Nine

They had turned out in force to watch the disgrace of her son.

Leander’s fall from grace was now a spectacle for the divine to witness.

Gods did not weep, but as Leander walked through the celestial chamber, his head held high in defiance, something dangerously close to sorrow clawed at Leía’s throat.

The weight of a thousand eyes did not slow Leander as he walked towards the single chair in the centre of the room facing the raised dais, on which sat the Nine.

It was rare for the room to be full of Leía’s kin.

It was rare the room was used at all. In anticipation of today’s trial, though, the overflowing amphitheatre held its breath.

Her son was a demigod: the God of Lies. Leander took a seat and brushed down his shirt with an air of complete lack of concern for his situation, an easy smile playing on his lips.

“Leander, son of Leía, you are brought before the Nine to respond to accusations against your name.” Taskevi, Goddess of Nature, spoke.

Leía was glad that she wasn’t leading this trial. She doubted she could remain unbiased, nor could she swing in any direction that could conceivably be considered as positive towards her son.

The demigod sitting before them inclined his head.

“How do you plead?” continued Taskevi.

“Guilty,” came the reply from Leander’s lips.

“You are aware,” Serai, Goddess of Death, whispered, though her voice carried throughout the room. “That death follows your lie? This wasn’t some mere parlour trick, boy. People are suffering. Dying.” She had seen her domain amplify in the recent days, directly due to Leander’s manipulations.

Leander shrugged, smirking. It was a ghastly expression on an otherwise handsome face.

The Nine shared a look between themselves. They had expected the boy would refuse to share what they needed to know. The Nine, her brothers and sisters, each had similar expressions—very few of them liked Leander, given the trouble he had been since he had learned to walk and talk.

It was endearing, to a point, watching a child of three or four outsmart Leía’s own siblings with a cheeky grin; it made it almost impossible to stay mad at him. But as toddlers grow out of their infantile personality traits, Leander just became belligerent and insufferable to be around.

Ever since his fourteenth year, when he had been entrusted with the domain of lies—much like when any divine being came of age—he had fed off the cosmic energy from libations offered by mortals, as well as the actual lies they told.

The young demigod had found companionship with the playful Cysan, one of the Nine, God of Illusion and Trickery, who was a fair soul with good intentions.

In taking Leander under his wing, Cysan had educated Leander in the ways of the divine beings who loved and protected Cariun.

It had been working, until Machus’ ideals began to worm their way into Leander’s heart, corrupting him against Cysan’s teachings.

Leía glanced over at her brother, sitting at the far end of the Nine, and noted the disheartened look on Machus’ face. She did not entirely believe it. She loved Machus, God of War, but she was afraid of him and his potential for destruction.

Leander had always been mischievous, but Leía had never thought of him as being malicious in his intent when he acted.

He just liked playing games, pranks. But even Cysan’s expression was one of disappointment at Leander’s complete disinhibition.

It was a step too far this time, and none of them could allow this transgression to go unpunished.

Serai leaned back in her seat. Then she suddenly stood, drawing all attention to her. “Prince Jarryn of Desanne is innocent of the crimes you accused him of, correct?”

Leander hesitated this time, and Leía saw a crack in his composure, but he ultimately nodded. The lie that Jarryn, formerly the Crown Prince of Desanne, had poisoned his own father had been too easy to whisper into the ear of Jarryn’s younger brother, the new King Nevari.

The lie had taken hold in the mortal world, and it had almost been believed in Estalian too, with its inhabitants becoming alarmingly close to choosing sides in the war brewing in Cariun.

That was until the Goddess of Death had communed with the recently dead king of Desanne in her underworld domain.

Serai had sat on the knowledge for a few days, watching the demigod gain strength from his lie, watching him watch the tensions between Desanne and Vyrica grow.

But, only when the pantheon of the Nine had become dangerously close to drawing blood in their own divine halls, she had revealed the truth.

And, with that truth, came a promise to see Leander’s delinquency controlled, in any fashion. Her argument was that he was simply too dangerous to be left to run free, a curse on all the realms in the cosmos.

It had been like a spell was broken over the hundreds of immortal beings who called these halls home.

They saw the lie for what it was. But the same couldn’t be said or done for the mortals residing in Cariun, the mortal realm.

Their minds were weaker, more susceptible.

They had believed the lie in their mind, heart, and soul, and disavowing them of this would not work.

Only those individuals strong with Aesthesia might be persuaded, but even then…

Those inhabiting Estalian would just have to watch this lie through to its conclusion in the mortal realm .

Leía knew her son had to be punished, but death or eternal damnation and suffering seemed a tad too extreme. Leander was her son, after all, and she loved him. She wanted to believe the best in him, even if it was becoming harder and harder with each passing turn around the sun.

Leía had moved heaven and earth to protect the interests of her children over the centuries and had strained every nerve for Leander.

She had defended him, saying he needed more time to mature.

But now, at twenty-eight years old, Leander could no longer be forgiven. His behaviour could not be excused.

“This lie you have told. Its purpose was war among the nations of Vyrica and Desanne?” Taskevi asked softly.

“No,” came the taciturn response. “It’s a welcome bonus though.”

Leander’s vulnerabilities were beginning to break through his facade.

Leía knew that, as a demigod, Leander found it challenging to belong fully to either world.

She could see the storm brewing inside him.

It was as if his insecurities had driven him to do this heinous act, and now he was trying to manage it in the only way he knew how: with casually cavalier aloofness.

A murmur spread around the room. Taskevi’s bang of her hand on the table silenced the whispering from the large audience. She was annoyed, but not by the audience of divinity watching the spectacle.

Taskevi turned to look down the row and, meeting the God of War’s gaze, she spoke. “Machus, can you tell us any more about the brewing dispute between Vyrica and Desanne?”

Machus, who had eyes only for Leander, shook his head once.

“There will be war, no doubt about it. I have spoken with Desanne’s new king.

It is not the king’s death that is the problem.

It is that the crown prince fled and has taken refuge in Vyrica.

King Nevari wants his brother’s head. Vyrica, it seems, is bringing about their own doom. ”

Leía kept her gaze on Leander as Machus spoke, watchful for any sign of recognition.

Leander was an excellent liar, but she knew him best. As Machus spoke, she saw a flicker of emotion pass over his face, too quick for her to be sure, but there was something more to it.

Leander hadn’t acted alone. He was covering up for someone.

“I counselled Prince Jarryn to seek sanctuary in Vyrica,” Ilyn, God of Peace, said, his expression one of deep concern. “If war is to happen, I am equally culpable with my involvement.”

“Any of us would have done the same, brother,” Machus had a strange expression on his face, as if he had not fully come to terms with what was happening. “An innocent man does not deserve to die.”

“And how many other innocents will die because of this war? For the sake of this one man?” Ilyn asked quietly.

“We must watch this inevitable doom play out, just as Leander wanted,” was all the reply Machus gave, still staring down at Leander, as if he could see into his very soul.

Leander seemed like he was barely listening to a word being said… though Leía knew, as only a mother can, that his facade of disinterest was just that: an illusion.

“Yes, but you benefit more than anyone else. Maybe even more than Leander here,” Vatram intoned, contempt colouring his tone .

Machus turned to the God of Fire with a raised brow.

“And the fury of Nevari does nothing to stoke your own domains, Vatram? It seems that Leander’s lie has far reaching consequences.

It is not just me, nor you, who will see this bolster our domains.

How many of our kin? Or our sons and daughters?

” He gestured to the amphitheatre of witnesses to Leander’s trial.

“Too many are set to profit from Leander’s lie.

The inevitability of this must be killing Tychi.

” The God of War glanced over to the Goddess of Hope, smiling inanely.

Tychi herself was, it seemed, emotionally removed from the proceedings, leaning back in her chair with crossed arms. She did not respond.

Leía watched her son with no small amount of trepidation as Taskevi continued to speak. “Why, Leander?”

Full of passion and charisma that commanded influence, Leander had the potential to make almost anyone do his bidding. He would start with one person, then move on to the next, sharing his ideas with the masses one by one until they all agreed with him.