Chapter 10
ten
For a lunar year, I’ve waged war against my creation. Water against fire. Creator against creation. Love against betrayal.
The pristine forest that once dripped with lush fauna and flora beneath the rainbow of the sun, now bears the scars of battle. Black scorch marks stain the white stone buildings. The sweet scent of night-blooming flowers has given way to the smell of ash and the metallic tang of blood.
I stand at the edge of the camp near the western border of Midaeliea, watching the sunrise paint the sky in colors too beautiful for the ugliness below.
My hair, once flowing like liquid, hangs in matted strands around my face.
The elegant gowns I wore have been replaced with battle leathers and armor.
“My Telae ,” a voice calls from behind me.
I don’t turn. “I’ve asked you not to call me that anymore, Selene.”
“The northern battalion reports Atlas’s forces have retreated slightly, but not before taking three more villages in the east.”
The words settle into me like stones sinking through still water. Three more villages. Hundreds of lives changed forever because of a man’s wounded pride and lust for power.
“And Thesix?” I ask, his name catching in my throat like a fishhook.
Selene’s silence is answer enough.
Three Moons Ago
Ash falls around us. His light blue eyes, wild as ice shoots from his palms, fighting at my side, forming a barrier around us both.
“You can’t stay here,” I tell him, gripping his shoulders. His blood–or someone else’s–smears across his cheekbone. “Atlas’s forces are advancing, and if we both die here–”
“I won’t leave you,” he says without hesitation. His jaw sits stubborn as always, a jaw I’ve spent many nights kissing beneath the stars that rapidly appear as the souls drift back to Mohasha. They still watch down on us.
I cup his face, feeling the twin drop connection between us pulse like a second heartbeat. “The palace has refugees, plus most of the people from Antalis are trying to herd themselves onto the middle rings in case they need to blow the canals. And if I fall –”
“Don’t say that.” His voice cracks.
“If I fall,” I continue, “Ashonera will need someone who is worthy to rule. I don’t know what will happen if something happens to me, and I need you to live to help rebuild this world.”
I feel him trembling beneath my hands, his resistant crumbling against logic even he can’t deny. Around us, the sounds of battle intensify. Metal against metal. Screams and smoke.
“This isn’t goodbye,” I whisper, pressing my forehead to his. “It will never be goodbye for us.”
He pulls me quickly to him, wrapping his arms around my waist. Kissing me desperately as if we are the only two people here, just like the first time we were ever together.
He tastes of salt, either from my tears or the blood on his face, perhaps both.
Before I can even dare to change my mind, I pull away, summoning a swirling pool of water for him to use to get back to Antalis.
“Protect them,” I command. “I’ll find my way back to you. Always.”
Present
“Still no word,” Selene finally says, pulling me from the memory. “But we believe he remains alive. Atlas would have made certain we knew if —”
“If he had killed my twin drop,” I finish, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. “No, he still lives. I can feel him.” I close my eyes, reaching through the silver ripple that connects our hearts.
“Drāhēn?,” Nuaya, another commander, comes beside us. “A woman requests an audience with you. She says her name is Kya.”
I stiffen. The rage that follows is familiar now, a scalding geyser erupting from the depth of my soul. Kya being here couldn’t be a coincidence. “Bring her to the war tent,” I say. “Immediately.”
Maps marked with troop movements and battle plans are scattered across the wooden table in the middle of the room. Kya stands beside it, her flame red hair pulled back from her face, revealing a new network of scars on her left cheek. Her amber eyes flick like candles as she turns.
“Kya. What do you want?”
“Atlas will lead the next assault, don’t believe the rumors of a retreat.
He’ll be here.” She says simply, walking around the table, peering down at the maps.
I should hide them, remove them, but something in me doesn’t have me rushing to do it.
“The monsters he’s crafted from the powers of Khaysus and manipulated others to do are … unholy, and they come with him.”
“Explain.”
“It’s like he’s summoned them from the void between worlds – beings that feed on fear and pain. They’re gathering in the northern wastes, preparing for something massive.”
“And Thesix?” I whisper.
Kya nods grimly. “He was captured three moons ago.”
I blink back the tears that threaten to fall and take a steadying breath. “When will he be here?”
“Three days hence.”
I turn away, facing the back wall where a map of Ashonera stretches from floor to ceiling. My beautiful world, now fractured by wars. Villages burned. Forests scorched. Souls taken. “Why do you tell me this?”
She turns to me, showing the scars that mark her now.
“A present from him when I wouldn’t allow him to lie with me like I did with Khaysus.
” She says simply, as if that’s all I needed to know, but then she takes a sigh.
“Before this world, I knew nothing but Khaysus. His touch, his anger, his flames.” She holds out her hands, those flames spiraling around her fingertips.
“I thought that there was nothing more to it … but this world, Drāhēn?. It’s been two years since I first stepped foot on it, and it’s beautiful.
Even through the horrors, the people … they find hope and love. ”
I say nothing, listening intently as she turns her amber eyes back to me. “I don’t want to go back to that life, nor do I want Khaysus to come here and, if you would grant it, when this war is over, I would like to stay here on Ashonera.”
She falls to one knee. “I’ll pledge myself to you right now if that’s what you want.”
I step closer to her, studying the network of scars across her cheek, pink and raw.
“Stand up, Kya.” I say.
She hesitates before rising; her gaze never leaving mine. The flames still dance around her fingertips, casting flickering shadows across the war tent.
“I will never force someone to kneel before me,” I tell her. “Especially not someone who has suffered under their hands.”
Something passes between us, much like understanding.
“Your warning about Atlas may help save many lives,” I say, extending my hand. Water pools in my palm, clear and cool. “For that alone, you have earned sanctuary here. Forever.”
Kya looks at my offered hand, then slowly extends her own. When our hands touch, our elements dance together, steam rising between us like a promise.
“Thank you.”