Chapter 6 #2
My knees nearly give out. Sariya’s warm hand braces my arm, offering a tiny sliver of comfort.
Ten thousand soldiers. Ancient beasts. Soul-bound gods.
And they’re coming for us. I lower myself to the damp stone floor, my palms embracing the chill as I try to steady the riot of thoughts in my head.
The torches flicker against the dungeon walls, their flames seeming almost peaceful compared to the fire storming inside of me.
My pulse thrums in my ears like thunder.
Everything Aran and Velentha just told me is echoing around my head violently.
And still, somehow, the loudest truth that sits heavily in my chest is that Aran wasn’t lying. He wasn’t a traitor.
My gaze drifts up. Aran’s eyes—those familiar emerald eyes—are already locked on mine. Steady, honest, kind. But godsdamn haunted. And just as I’m about to look away, I hear it again. That voice I would know in any realm, any lifetime. “You can trust him, Daisy. You have enemies, but he isn’t one.”
I don’t know if it’s grief playing tricks on me, but Korithax’s voice echoes in my head.
I don’t understand how it keeps happening, I just know for certain that it’s him.
A shaky breath leaves me as I rise to my feet, dusting the filth of the dungeon floor off my trousers.
My eyes cut to the guards stationed by the cells.
Corin shifts under my stare, visibly uncomfortable.
I don’t blame him since I nearly turned him into ash this morning.
“Release them,” I say firmly.
Corin stares like I’ve grown horns, and I narrow my eyes at him.
His Adam’s apple bobs as he visibly shrinks under my stare.
I hold his gaze, wondering if he’s truly about to disregard a direct order from his Queen.
The guards don’t see me as their ruler. Not yet.
And I know I haven’t acted like much of one either.
But I need to make them understand, they can’t ignore me either. Especially not now.
I raise my chin, just a fraction. “Corin. Now.”
“Y-Yes, Your Majesty,” he mutters.
He fumbles for the keys on his belt, walking over to Aran’s cell first.
Sariya’s voice sounds softly from my side. “Are you certain?”
“I am,” I say, voice like steel. “If what they’ve said is true, and I believe it is, then they have no place behind bars.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Elyistria.
There’s no distrust, but she’s watching me almost cautiously.
Like she’s trying to figure me out. I clasp my hands in front of myself to stop them from shaking as I turn to face her.
Gods, I hate being confrontational. “I may be new to ruling, but don’t keep secrets like this from me again.
I deserve to know who is placed in my dungeons. ”
Elyistria bows her head slightly. “Understood.”
The moment both cell doors open, Aran rushes past the guard and gathers Velentha into his arms, checking her over like he’s afraid she’ll vanish if he looks away. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, my love,” she murmurs, brushing a hand over his jaw that now has a slight dusting of stubble. “The healers did an incredible job.”
She turns to face me. For the first time, I really see her.
She’s beautiful in an ancient kind of way.
Almost ethereal. Her silver eyes glint like moonlight on water.
Her skin is pale, almost porcelain, and her short black hair gleams like onyx in the torchlight.
There’s something disarming about her warmth, her quiet sincerity.
“Please,” she says gently, “thank your healers for me. They showed kindness even when they believed me to be the enemy.”
I narrow my gaze. It feels so odd, hearing her speak in anything other than riddles and soft weeps. It’s like I’m looking at an entirely different person. “Are you our enemy?”
Her lips curve into a soft smile. “No, Daisy. I am not your enemy. Everything Aran and I have done—every risk we’ve taken—was to protect you.
You may not remember all that you are yet…
but I do. I remember who you were. And I promise you, as long as I breathe, I will protect you. After all, you are my creator.”
Her words stop time. Creator. It hits me dead in the chest. I’ve felt it in flickers.
The glimpses of my past life, fragments of Dasmyrin stirring in the back of my mind.
But I keep forgetting that I’m not just a queen.
I am a godborn creator of this universe.
A tidal wave of panic slams into me and my vision swims. I’m not ready for that weight.
I can’t be expected to live up to what I was. I’m not her. I’m not…
Elyistria steps forward, her hands finding mine in a reassuring grip, like she knows exactly where my mind has gone. Her glow is gentle and grounding. “We do not expect you to be her, Daisy. You are enough.”
Her words crack something open in me. And before I can stop them, tears burn down my cheeks in thick streaks.
“I just…” I shake my head, unable to contain the pain in my voice.
“I keep forgetting I’m not just Daisy anymore.
I’m someone else, too. And I’m so damn terrified I’m going to disappoint everyone.
They’re all waiting for me to be her. And I’m not her. I’m just… me.”
Sariya’s voice cuts in, her motherly tone pulling me from my panic. “And just Daisy is more than enough, young lady.”
Her words make me smile. Just a little. Just enough to breathe again without my lungs burning. But Elyistria’s expression shifts, and the dread quickly seeps back in.
“There’s a reason we told you about Aran and Velentha now,” she says softly.
I brace myself. “What is it?”
“The kingdom is growing restless. They haven’t seen their Queen since the coronation. They need reassurance, Daisy. They need you.”
A spike of fear shoots through me and I instantly seek out Aran. He was Korithax’s right hand. If anyone knows how to fix this, it’s him. “Aran. I can’t. I’m not ready. I—”
He steps forward, gently prying my hand from Elyistria’s and holding it in his own. “You can. We’ll get you cleaned up, and I’ll help you prepare.”
“But this was supposed to be Korithax. Not me. I—I was never supposed to—”
“Korithax isn’t here, Daisy,” he cuts me off, his voice cracking ever so slightly. “But he believed in you, and so do I. We all do. You want to make him proud? Then step up. Show them the Queen he saw in you.”
My chest aches at his words. He’s wrong. So very wrong. I was never meant to be a queen in this life. I was meant to finish college and continue my path to becoming a psychologist. Not a reborn goddess who rules a realm that’s about to head into a cosmic war.
I shake my head, fresh tears falling down my face. “I’m not the sunshine anymore. I’m not the light. I’m a storm, Aran. I’m a disaster waiting to happen.”
Velentha steps forward, her voice firm. “Then be the storm for now, if that’s what you need to be. The world needs a downpour sometimes. But eventually, the sunshine always breaks through.”
Her words sink in, igniting a small flicker of hope inside of me, despite the overwhelming anxiety that’s trying to consume me whole.
I close my eyes, letting Aran’s hold ground me.
I didn’t realise just how much Aran had grown to be like a brother to me.
But with every person in here, even my own sister, it was him I turned to when I needed that comfort.
When I needed that reassurance. I slowly breathe, and in the darkness behind my lids, I hear him. “Go get ‘em, little flower.”
When I open my eyes, my tears are gone. But there’s a heat in my chest. I dry my cheeks and raise my chin slightly. My hands may still tremble, but my voice doesn’t. “Let’s make Korithax proud.”