Chapter 3
ARAN
The war table is still a mess, littered with maps, sealed letters addressed to the king that he never got to read, and now, the grimoire.
I can feel it vibrating with restrained magic, like a caged beast waiting to snap its jaws.
Sariya and Elyistria stand on opposite sides of the table, both unreadable.
But I know they’re past the point of patience.
They dragged me straight back here after we checked on Daisy, not risking any chance of me fleeing without giving them the information they’re desperately seeking.
Elyistria speaks first, calm but razor-sharp. “We need answers. Now.”
“Well, you’ve looked and seen what’s inside,” I say, gesturing to the open pages. “That should tell you enough.”
“It tells us this book holds power we didn’t know existed,” Sariya snaps. “Power stronger than ours. Things that violate the natural laws of this universe.”
I wish I could tell them everything, but I can’t. Even if I wanted to, my brain can only remember so much itself. “We only have a few more hours left with the book, so we need to gather as much as we can from it.”
Elyistria stops her frantic pacing by the window and looks at me. “What do you mean, a few hours?”
“I need to return it before it’s noticed as missing.”
Both women go utterly still, and I can see them trying to figure me out.
I should be terrified for my life right now.
Although both women are ethereal and kind, caring leaders—they’re also two of the strongest beings in this universe, even without the full extent of the powers they were born with.
And they’re currently looking at me like I’m a traitor.
Like I’m a threat that needs to be dealt with.
“Return it to, who?” Elyistria asks, her voice colder than I’ve ever heard it.
I swallow hard, refusing to meet her blinding gaze. “I can’t tell you.”
Sariya’s heat flares visibly across her deep bronze skin. “Then how can we trust you?”
Before I can speak, a knock sounds at the door.
I send a silent thanks to whatever gods are looking down on me for the small escape, despite the fact that nobody should know we’re in here.
I take a step towards the door, but it slowly creaks open before I reach it, and she stumbles in.
She looks frantic, almost afraid. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look so…
dishevelled, and the sight of it sends me into a frenzy.
“Velentha?” Sariya and Elyistria speak her name in unison, both stepping back in instinctive shock.
Golden heat erupts from Sariya’s palms, the sunshine fire blooming brightly above her upturned palms. Elyistria’s magic flares, white orbs lifting from her fingertips, ready to strike.
Both women look like they’re ready to strike without thinking, and that thought alone makes me act without rational thought.
“WAIT!” I shout, diving in front of Velentha and throwing my hands up in submission. “Don’t—she’s not here to fight.”
“She’s one of them!” Elyistria snaps. “Why is one of the Six standing in Zeriavoss with your protection, Aran?”
Before I can respond, Velentha grabs me, her breath ragged. I glance down at her, taking in her features. Her eyes are wild with panic, her skin glistening with sweat. “They know,” she gasps.
My stomach drops. “What? No. You said fourteen hours.”
“I don’t know how… but they know it’s gone,” she stutters out.
I clench my fists. “Do they know I have it?”
She opens her mouth, but no words come out.
I scan her face, my eyes frantically searching over her.
She doubles over, a horrible wet sound choking her throat.
Indigo blood spills from her lips, splattering the floor in vibrant blue drops that make my heart stutter in my chest. I catch her as she collapses, her body shaking violently in my arms.
“Velentha. My love—”
I fall to my knees, bringing her with me as I cradle her close. Her skin is ice cold and clammy. Her breaths are coming in shallow pants. Too shallow. Panic claws up my spine, dread settling deep into my soul as it sinks in that my wife is laid in my arms, bleeding… dying.
“What in the gods’ name is going on?” Elyistria demands, rushing forward with Sariya close behind.
“She’s dying,” I choke. “Please—I’ll explain everything later, just help her!”
They hesitate and that sight alone makes a fresh wave of panic crash through me.
I can see the fury warring with confusion in their eyes.
Despite the fact Velentha is bleeding on the floor, they still haven’t lowered their magic.
Their need to protect themselves is battling with their need to be decent beings.
I see it. I see the way they don’t know if they should save themselves or her.
Nothing in the world has ever compared to the feelings flooding throughout my body right now.
Desperation sets in, and tears pool in my eyes at the thought of losing someone else.
I barely survived Korithax. I won’t survive losing her. I can’t lose her. It’s not possible.
“Please,” I say again, begging now. “Please.”
A beat of silence passes between us, the tension in the room palpable as the fate of my wife lies in the hands of the two goddesses standing before me.
Elyistria nods once, her expression unreadable. “Get her off the floor.”
I gather Velentha’s limp body in my arms, her indigo blood smearing across my crisp white shirt.
“You need to open a portal to a guest chamber so we remain unseen,” Elyistria mutters.
I glance down at Velentha. “I… I need my hands.”
Sariya and Elyistria take her in their arms, and I move quickly, opening a shaky portal to one of the guest chambers in the castle.
They step through quickly, and the portal snaps closed behind me as I follow.
They lay Velentha on the bed as gently as they can, and I rush forward, reaching down to brush blood from the corner of her pale lips.
Her eyes flutter weakly, her lashes tickling her cheeks as she struggles to remain tethered to this side of life.
“I’ll fetch the healers,” Sariya says, already turning toward the door.
Elyistria watches me, her eyes holding an expression of weariness and betrayal. “Aran…” she says quietly. “You’re helping one of the Divine Six. Even now, after everything.”
“She’s not like them,” I whisper. “I swear to you, she’s not.”
“We no longer know you, Aran,” Sariya says from the door, her voice distant. “We can’t trust you. You’ve been hiding too much.”
Elyistria nods once, sadness flickering across her face. “I’m sorry, Aran.”
I don’t have a second to contemplate the meaning of her words before magic bursts behind my eyes, blinding and all consuming. Then everything is suddenly black.
The cell is cold.
Not freezing, not tortuous. Just... indifferent. A dull chill that seeps into the bones, a reminder that this place was built to forget about the enemies thrown down here.
I sit slumped against the far wall, my head aching from where the magic hit me.
They didn’t even chain me. They didn’t have to.
Elyistria’s magic was kind enough to knock me out whilst they used something else to paralyse most of my body, and even now, I can barely twitch my fingers.
It’s evident they used one of the tonics from the healers’ quarters to bind me. They see me as a threat now, too.
I exhale slowly. The room smells of old stone and dread. The torch outside my cell flickers faintly, casting long, warped shadows through the bars. I feel like I’ve been watching them dance along the floor for days.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I told myself I could do this.
That I could carry out the mission Saevyn gave me and bare it like a good soldier.
I told myself that having my memories removed was the right move—that it would protect me, protect everyone.
That knowing too much would only draw attention from the Divine Six.
I convinced myself I’d remember when I needed to. Did I convince myself, or did Saevyn?
The memories of Korithax flood into me like a cold wave. Gods, I miss him. I close my eyes and the image comes unbidden—Korithax, the day he was born. Hellfire coiled around him like a second skin, his cry deep and defiant even as a newborn. The son of a traitor King and an otherworldly Queen.
He never knew that Saevyn placed me in his path from the beginning.
I watched him grow, observing from a distance at first, watching him raised under Korran’s shadow.
And then, when he came of age, I was brought in as his “assistant.” A glorified shadow.
He thought he chose me. But the truth is, I chose him.
And maybe, more truthfully, I grew to love him.
At first, it was just a role. I kept my distance, telling myself that emotions would compromise the mission entrusted to me.
That I couldn’t afford to get attached to the heir.
But how do you not grow attached to someone like him?
Someone who bore centuries of cruelty, and still found a way to lead with strength.
Someone who endured his father’s hatred, Calrix’s bitterness, and the Divine Six’s impossible expectations.
He never complained. Spent most of his life distanced from everyone.
He never even took a lover before Daisy.
He had said the throne left no room for softness.
I watched him crack under the pressure alone, and I hated myself for standing by.
I told myself that I was doing my job, that I couldn’t interfere.
But eventually, he let me in. Not with grand declarations, because Korithax was never good with words.
He let me in with silence. With glances across a war table, with cups of bitter hellroot tea passed wordlessly with trust, or a glass of his favourite whiskey over ice.
We became brothers in everything but blood. And now he’s gone.
My throat tightens. I run my hands down my face, and breathe through the burn in my throat from holding back tears I don’t have the energy to shed.
I didn’t even get to say goodbye. Didn’t get to tell him the truth, or that he mattered more than the mission in the end.
I didn’t get to say that I would have broken every damn divine law to save him.
But I didn’t. Instead, I followed the plan.
And now, I’m alone in a world I don’t belong in.
Well, not quite. I have Velentha. Gods, even her name feels like a rebellion in this place.
She’s always been the fire to my ice, the reckless to my restraint.
She was placed too, by Saevyn. Her memory remained mostly intact because she needed to know more—being one of the Divine Six.
She had to pretend to be loyal, watching, waiting, risking everything.
We were never supposed to fall in love. But how do you share secrets like that—ancient truths that could destroy empires—and not fall in love?
We were each other’s only real tether in the madness of it all.
Each mission, each lie, each fragment of truth we collected behind enemy lines bound us closer.
When we met in shadows, it wasn’t always strategic—it was survival.
And now the risk became too great, and she’s dying.
If they don’t heal her in time, or if Sariya or Elyistria decide she’s too much of a threat…
I lose her, too. I can’t lose her. I’ve already lost too many people, and I won’t lose Velentha, too.
I lean my head back against the wall, the stone biting into my scalp.
I try to focus, to think past the ache and the rage.
The grimoire is still with them. They’re trying to decode it.
If they get enough before I’m branded a traitor, maybe this will still be worth it.
Maybe Daisy can still become what she needs to be.
I grew to adore her too, in the little time I’ve spent with her.
Her presence was an instant calm in a life that’s been filled with chaos.
In such a short amount of time, she became like family to me.
I know the fire in her isn’t just grief, though.
It’s her legacy. She has pieces of Dasmyrin in her soul.
I’ve seen it shine through in the way she walks, the way she looks at the world with that defiant spark, even through tears.
If anyone can rise from the ashes of Korithax’s fall, it’s her.
But I know she’s not ready. She needs time and guidance.
And gods help me, she truly does need Maelkar.
I grimace at the thought. If anyone can both train her and drive her to madness, it’s that sadistic bastard.
I don’t trust Maelkar, but I have to for now.
Because this war is coming, whether we’re ready or not, and the Divine Six will stop at nothing until every thread of resistance is snuffed out.
And I will not let Korithax’s death be in vain.
I will not let Velentha’s sacrifice be meaningless.
I will do whatever it takes to finish what Saevyn started.
Because I know one thing for certain, just like she did—The Divine Six cannot take over this universe. Nobody would survive.