Chapter 25 #2
The prince rose from his seat, drawing himself up to his full height in a valiant attempt to appear composed, though the stiffness in his stance betrayed the storm of nerves raging within him.
“A few nights ago, Jane and I were attacked by a mutated creature sent by the Tenebrae,” Glade began, his voice robust and resolute as it travelled throughout the space.
“It was unlike anything I’ve ever encountered.
Though it resembled a Tenebranian in some ways, it was much larger, much stronger, much more agile.
But what was truly shocking, what set that monster apart from all others, was that once it was slain, it bled, and the blood… It sparkled.”
With Glade’s final words, the group of elder Fae erupted into a chaotic blur of whispers. Gioran’s mouth fell open with shock, but he collected himself promptly and regarded his fellow elders’ dissatisfactory behaviour like a hawk.
“Silence!” the High Elder Fae commanded through gritted teeth, his long, sharpened canines ferociously exposed. He rose to his feet, and the elders fell silent.
“This information is…troubling, to say the least,” he declared, his timbre fierce as he paced around the circle, addressing the air as much as anyone.
“Over the past six moon phases, twelve of our own have vanished without a trace, as if they’ve simply disappeared into nothingness.
But…” He paused, scratching his chin, his eyes narrowing in thought.
“My suspicions lead me to believe that the Tenebrae are behind these disappearances, abducting our people and conducting experiments on them. Perhaps draining their blood, or worse, mixing it with their own.”
A copper-haired Fae rose to her feet, her voice erupting with anger. “They’re using our blood to create abominations? Haven’t they taken enough from us already?”
A clamorous buzzing of agreement spread through the pack, their outrage rising like a heated current that filled the room.
A Fae male, his white hair braided tightly in one long strand down the length of his back, stood as well.
“But how could the Tenebranian scum travel through Ornathian air space?” he nearly accused Glade.
“How are these monsters abducting our people without leaving a trace? Should the crown not be able to detect them?”
Gioran expectantly set his eyes on Glade, eager for more answers.
But Glade only drooped his head in shame. “We don’t have that answer yet,” he admitted. “However, I believe there is a traitor among us, in the castle, someone aiding the Tenebrae in their attacks on Ornath.”
The murmurs of the elder Fae grew louder, their rage swelling with each word Glade spoke. Once again, Gioran had to call for silence, his voice demanding authority as he quelled the rising tension in the room.
Glade’s fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “Mark my words, I will root out the traitor and display their head on a spike outside the castle for all of Ornath to see.”
The elder Fae nodded in agreement.
“There is one more piece of information I believe you must hear,” he continued, though the vexing rouge of his skin began to subside.
“After two decades of searching, King Remaculus Everkain has finally found the Last Daughter of Domus, prophesied by the Golden Oracle herself. Jane”—he extended a hand toward me—“is the last living being of Domus. She and Jion are to marry in less than two months’ time and fulfill their role in saving the universe.
This union will mark the beginning of the end for the Tenebrae and their genocidal rampage across the cosmos. ”
Up until this moment, the elder Fae had mostly ignored my presence, likely assuming I was just a concubine of some sort. But now, they all turned to face me, their expressions stricken with astonishment. My breath caught in my throat, and I had to remind myself how to breathe.
A smaller Fae woman with straight shoulder-length raven hair, leapt from her seat and rushed toward me.
She stopped just mere inches away, grabbing my head in her hands.
I recoiled at the sudden touch, but when I met her gaze, I was calmed.
Her deep-set angular eyes warped into dark gaping blue voids, without the existence of an iris, but they twinkled like the cosmos itself as they reflected the dancing of the flames around us.
As she held my face, she tilted her chin toward the ceiling, her nostrils flaring wide as she inhaled a monstrously deep breath of air, like she was inhaling a piece of me along with it.
Within seconds, she released me and shifted to face the group. “It is true! She wields Amantius’ Light. She is the one who slayed the Tenebranian monster.”
The Fae woman had seen into my memories. A wave of violation washed over me, but there was also an unexpected sense of validation.
Gioran tilted his head, studying me with an intensity that made me wriggle in my seat. “You have been chosen by our righteous Goddess, Jane.”
The terrifying woman returned to her seat, and Gioran paced once again.
“Our home world, Verdantis, was magnificent. Extraordinary. Exquisite. A true pillar of perfected paradise blessed by the Goddess herself,” he began.
“Two decades ago, Verdantis was a thriving civilization overflowing with life of all sorts and beauty beyond comprehension. Our people lived peacefully, blissfully, for millions of years, unaware of the doom that would one day befall us. We did not abide by the declarations of kings and queens like so many of your kind. We existed in a state of balance, where all were equal, where harmony and respect reigned. Something I’m sure you will find difficult to comprehend. ”
The High Elder Fae paused in front of the fire pit, his attention fixed on its flickering centre.
“The night the Tenebrae appeared in our airspace seemed like any other,” he said, and for the first time, the tiniest hint of emotion crept into his voice.
“Despite their grotesque appearance, we welcomed them with curiosity, eager to understand this foreign neighbour. That was, until they gave us a choice: kneel, or be eviscerated. We didn’t believe it was possible—the extraction of a Celestial’s Light—and we would never kneel before anyone. So, we refused.”
A single tear traced the curve of Gioran’s cheek as he clasped his hands behind his back.
“By the morning, their mothership had entered our atmosphere. The only thing we could see was a massive, glaring red sphere in the sky. One thousand three hundred and fifty-six Fae managed to escape on the limited ships we owned. One thousand three hundred and fifty-six…of seven million.”
Gioran’s lids squeezed shut as the agonizing memory threatened to overwhelm him.
“Then she was gone. Our beautiful Verdantis…dead, gone, forever.” He turned his body to peer directly into my eyes, his voice sorrowful, but full of resolve.
“The Fae follow Amantius’ teachings religiously.
We obey her every command. We are peaceful creatures, opposed to violence in all its forms. Not ever have we engaged in war, in terror.
But…the Tenebrae must be obliterated, be destroyed. ”
He abruptly made an A-line towards me until his face was mere inches from mine.
The fervour of his breath blasted onto my face like a furnace being switched on as he challenged me, “Do you understand what is being asked of you, Last Daughter? Do you understand that trillions of lives are at stake? Trillions of lives that now depend on you? Amantius granted you her Light, not only as a gift, but as an instrument. A tool. Do not waste it.”
The weight of Amantius’ blessing felt heavier than ever, pressing down on my shoulders like a barbell. Yet, for the first time in my life, I felt a surge of purpose, a duty, a reason for being.
My jaw tightened as if to hold back the passion within me threatening to spill out, and with unwavering conviction, I held my head high and promised, “I will not waste it. I give you my word.”
As the commitment left my lips, I felt Glade’s presence beside me change.
His eyes, which had been fixed on the floor in contemplation, lifted to view me.
His usual goofy smirk was missing, instead replaced by an expression I hadn’t seen him wear before.
A faint, unconscious smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, his breath hitching, as if the air had been stolen from his lungs.
Gioran’s mouth twitched, as though he might smile, but instead, he bowed his head deeply in my direction, a sign of respect.
I swallowed, feeling the enormity of the moment settle deeper within me. “Has anyone else ever been blessed with Amantius’ Light before?” I finally asked, my voice projecting as I addressed the entire group of elder Fae.
Some scratched their chins, others avoided my question altogether, but Gioran spoke again.
“I am twenty-five thousand years old. In my time, I have heard many stories, many tales. But only once have I heard of something like this.” He paused, his gaze becoming distant as he recalled the memory.
“When I was a child, my grandfather told me of a time when Amantius sought to create a champion among her people, someone to defeat an ancient evil of the universe: the Other. A God of malice and destruction.”
He let the words linger in the air before continuing.
“Amantius chose a human male to wield her Light, to channel its power against the Other. But things did not go as planned. The Other infected this man’s soul with a blight of its own darkness, twisting him, turning him.
The champion was lost, and he joined the dark forces among the farthest reaches of the stars. ”
Gioran’s eyes darkened as his voice carried a flatter tone.
“We were always told that this story was just a myth, a cautionary tale to keep us from using our power for malevolent purposes. But now…” He looked at me, the truth settling in.
“Now I wonder if it was more than that. Perhaps it was a warning.”
A spark ignited in my mind as I absorbed Gioran’s admission. Without thinking, I sprang to my feet and hurried over to my satchel by the door, rummaging through it desperately. I needed to find something—a book, a particular page.
I yanked the leather-bound tome free and rushed back to Gioran, my hands quivering as I flipped through the pages, each one flying past faster than the last, my heart pounding so vigorously in my chest that it nearly exploded.
Finally, I stopped, my finger landing on the picture I had been searching for.
There, in stark black and white, was an image of a God—a swirling storm of darkness and grief—devouring a Celestial, pulling it into oblivion. The very essence of destruction.
I pointed at the figure, my voice catching in my throat with urgency. “Is this him? Is this the Other?”
Gioran’s gaze darted to the image, his eyes scanning back and forth as he studied the page. Then he reached for the book, inspecting the sketch for himself. “Where…where did you get this?” His voice faltered, his hands gripping the book as if it were a combustible relic about to detonate.
“I borrowed it,” I admitted.
Gioran muttered to himself under his breath, “It is not possible…”
I glanced back and forth between the page in the book and Gioran’s face, searching for any sign of recognition. Just then, Glade appeared at our side, his eyes widening as he leaned in to view the drawing.
“What is that?” Glade asked, full of perplexity.
Gioran’s eyes dashed between us, his words slow and cautionary. “This is a diary…written by Amantius’ champion. I didn’t think it could be real.”
My heart raced. “What does it mean?”
Gioran’s chin lifted, and his eyes floated uneasily around the room, as if seeking confirmation from his fellow elders before he returned his focus to the book.
“If this is truly the diary of Amantius’ previous champion, then it means The Other is real.
And we’re not just fighting to destroy the Tenebrae. We’re fighting to destroy him.”