Chapter 21 To Be Judged #2
As we left the throne room, guards fell into step at a distance, their presence silent. They were like living stone and more of them lined the passage as Theron led me forward almost leisurely.
We moved through a series of vaulted halls and then entered another passage where immense doors rose at the end.
They were taller than anything I had ever seen.
Impossible slabs of stone reinforced with dark metal.
Runes were carved deep into their surface, beautiful and intricate, as if they were telling a story of what lay beyond.
Theron did not slow. At his approach alone, the mechanisms groaned to life, and with a sound like the grinding of mountains, the doors began to part.
Light spilled in through the widening gap, followed by cool air carrying with it the scent of stone and earth.
As we stepped through, the fortress opened to the outside at last, corridors giving way to broad stone walkways that curved through the grounds beyond its walls.
The sky stretched wide above us. The sun was sinking toward the horizon, its light casting shadows that stretched and warped across the stone.
We continued to walk in silence, though I was acutely aware of him beside me, of how easily his stride matched mine, despite the obvious height difference between us.
The way his presence seemed to bend the space around us, leaving only the two of us.
He was close enough that I could feel the heat of him through the air.
Behind us, Aster’s steps followed at a close distance, heavier now, his hooves striking stone with a muted rhythm that echoed faintly through the open space.
His annoyance with the situation evident.
The path led downward, away from the fortress, toward a section of the grounds I hadn’t seen from my room. As we rounded a final curve, the garden revealed itself.
Stone figures rose from the earth in uneven rows, some standing alone, others clustered together.
Their forms half reclaimed by creeping vines and pale moss.
They were not arranged for beauty or symmetry.
They stood where they had fallen, where they had been left, frozen mid-motion, mid-scream, mid-prayer.
Victims.
I could see it immediately.
Their clothing told stories my mind struggled to piece together, fabrics and cuts shifting subtly from one figure to the next.
Ancient robes carved in stiff folds, armor etched with symbols I didn’t recognize.
Simpler garments worn smooth by time. Hairstyles changed too, braids and loose curls, shaved sides and bound crowns, all preserved in cold, merciless detail.
“How long?” I whispered, the word slipping out before I realized I had spoken. “How long have they been here?”
Theron did not slow his pace.
“Long enough.” His reply was too calm. Unaffected by my question.
“These are… real, aren’t they?” I said, my voice tightening as the truth settled into my chest. “They were people.”
“They were once, yes.”
My gaze traced the cracked face of one figure as we passed, the stone fractured along the jaw as if the last thing it had known was terror.
“This was her home once,” Theron continued, his tone was almost respectful. “Medusa’s. What remains of it, at least. These were her victims, taken over centuries. When she fell, her home crumbled. The land reclaimed itself.”
He glanced at me briefly.
“These were brought here. Preserved as a reminder,” he added.
“A warning,” I corrected before I could stop myself.
His mouth curved faintly.
“To some,” he said. “To others, a lesson.”
The path narrowed as we moved deeper into the garden, the light growing dimmer as the sun sank lower, shadows stretching long and distorted across the stone faces around us. The air felt heavy with so many eyes on me. I suddenly became acutely aware of every step I took.
Too aware.
My foot caught on an uneven edge in the paving, a raised seam in the stone hidden by shadow, and before I could recover, my balance tipped forward.
Theron reacted without hesitation. His arm tightened around mine, guiding me against his side with a controlled strength that left no room to falter.
His other hand pressed lightly to my back as he steadied our pace, his body moving instinctively to compensate for my stumble.
For a brief, breathless moment, I was against him, the heat of his body holding me close like a safety blanket.
The world narrowed.
His presence was overwhelming and close, and I was suddenly far too aware of how easily he held me, of how little effort it took.
His voice dropped, close to my ear.
“Careful,” he murmured. “Don’t go falling for me.” A flicker of amusement threaded through his tone. “After all, that wasn’t part of the bargain.”
Heat rushed to my face as I straightened, my heart hammering far too hard for a simple stumble. He released me just as smoothly as he had caught me, but not before I had the distinct, unsettling impression that he had lingered a second longer than necessary.
I stepped away, my mind racing.
There was something there, beneath the arrogance and the control, something almost playful, and it unsettled me far more than his severity ever had.
I stole a glance at him as we resumed walking, no longer arm in arm, trying and failing to reconcile the glimpses of softness with the power he wielded so effortlessly.
We reached the heart of the garden.
At its center stood a wide stone circle, the ground within it worn smooth. The statues here were closer, more intact, their expressions clearer and their proximity impossible to ignore.
Theron stopped.
“This is where truth is tested,” he said quietly.
My stomach twisted.
He turned to face me fully now, his eyes bright in the fading light, green catching gold as the sun dipped lower.
“When you are ready,” he said, “You may step forward.”
I looked at the circle, at the stone beneath my feet layered with dust, and at the faces frozen forever around us.
And I knew, with a certainty that sent a shiver through me, that once I crossed that threshold, there would be no turning back. The dust layering the stone now made me wonder… was this the remains of those who had failed?
The one’s who hadn’t…
Survived the Gods judgement.