Chapter 14
Chapter
Fourteen
LYRIANA
A cure.
For a moment, I felt like my heart would burst. Like I could leave my skin and fly. Like for the first time since I saw Rhyan in the akadim’s arms—anything was possible.
Auriel crossed the room, and knelt before me at the edge of the bed.
“Are you sure?” I asked, my heart thundering. “I can—” My voice shook, too many thoughts, too many emotions racing through me at once. “I can heal him? Auriel, truly?” I grasped at his arms, pulling him up to the bed to sit beside me, my fingers digging into his flesh before I could stop myself.
Auriel was luminous then, like the light I’d used from the Valalumir to heal his body had become a part of him, shining through his limbs. In that moment it was as if the Red Ray had been stored inside of his heart—not mine.
“Truly. There’s a way,” he said.
I lifted my hands, looking back and forth between them and Auriel—his form now fully healed. “How? Is it with Rakashonim?”
He shook his head, his eyes wide. “No. Not with Rakashonim. That’s powerful.
And maybe the thing that could come the closest. But it’s only because of what you’re drawing upon.
The Red Ray of the Valalumir. With it, you can wield unfathomable levels of power.
And you can heal with it—like you’ve done before.
Like you did just now. But to restore a life to someone who’s been turned akadim, to call their soul back to their body, to heal and restore it?
” He sighed. “Calling on Rakashonim alone—it would kill you. And it wouldn’t work. The cure requires more.”
“More how?” I asked. “Tell me what I have to do. Tell me everything.”
Auriel frowned, his blond eyebrows knitting together. “What do you remember about the creation of the Valalumir?” he asked.
“The light itself?” I said, frowning. “Created by the God Canturiel?” I shook my head.
“I can tell you what I know about it—if that’s what you mean.
But, if you’re asking if I remember its creation as Asherah, I can’t.
I don’t have any actual memories of that time—or even being a full-fledged Guardian.
I don’t remember Heaven. Or being a Goddess.
None of those memories have come back to me.
Not in full.” I looked away. “So far my memories as Asherah have been sparse. Glimpses of my life down here—like seeing Auriel—I mean,” I bit my lip, “seeing you, on the beach before the Drowning. And then again in battle.”
“That’s okay,” he nodded. “But to do this right, you’re going to need to understand everything I’m about to tell you. Especially because I’m afraid with my current mortality, I’ll forget again.”
“Okay,” I agreed.
“What exactly do you know of the light’s creation?” he asked.
“Only what I’ve read in the Valya.”
Auriel’s eyes widened. “The Valya. Yes—the Valya. Wait—” He grabbed my arm. “There was more than one translation that survived. Right? Which scroll did you read?”
“Well, there’s two main ones,” I said, unsure where he was going with all of this.
“The Mar Valya which was discovered right after the Drowning became the standard for translations and copies. That’s the most common.
But then there’s the Tavia Valya, found a hundred years later, preserved in a chest. I’ve read both. ”
“So,” Rhyan said, “tell me your best academic observations of the translation debate.”
I sat up. “Are you serious?”
“After you guiled me into an art history lesson, you still think I have no interests outside of push ups and punching people?”
“No. I … I just never knew anyone else who cared about the debate.”
“Now you do. So tell me.”
I blinked, looking back at Auriel.
His throat bobbed. “The Mar Valya was missing an M, wasn’t it? Changing the meaning of Auriel janam Asherahdiam.”
“Auriel knew Asherah as two,” I said, my voice hushed.
“I recognized you the first moment I saw you,” he said, his voice flooded with emotion.
“The Valalumir was the brightest, most powerful light to ever be created, and it dimmed in your presence. I still remember like yesterday. Remember seeing you. Remember the way that you brightened the room. Remember the way my heart had beat faster. The way I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.
Before I knew your body, I knew you. I remembered that our soul was in two.
But once, it was whole. And I knew what you were to me that first instant.
More than a thousand years ago in the Hall of Records.
Once I saw you, no oath I swore mattered.
No duty. Because you and I were something far greater. We were mekarim.”
“Soulmates,” I said.
Auriel’s face tightened, his eyes watering. “Mekara.” My soul is yours.
“Rakame,” I answered. Your soul is mine.
For him, she’s brighter than the brightest star in Heaven. That’s what Rhyan had told me that night in the Temple, describing the way Auriel had fallen in love with Asherah. My heart thudded.
“Both Valya translations, however,” Auriel said, “are incomplete. They’re missing part of the story. The Mar Valya and the Tavia weren’t the first to arrive on these shores. There was another—one that was whole. One that contained the truth. I would know. Because I wrote it. Auriel’s Valya.”
“Auriel’s Valya?” I practically yelled.
His eyebrows drew together, as he nodded.
“In the scroll, I told the truth about the light. About its creation. It wasn’t a burst of inspiration like they’ve told you.
The light wasn’t just some idea that Canturiel sang into existence one day.
It had a purpose, a design. Only that knowledge was lost. Because every copy of my Valya was destroyed before my death.
Every copy except for one. The one I buried inside my tomb. ”
“On Gryphon Island? There’s a copy of your Valya?” My eyes widened. “With the cure for akadim inside it?”
“Not the cure itself, but it speaks of it, yes.” He took a deep breath.
“The truth is that Canturiel was asked to create the Valalumir by the Council.” He closed his eyes, like he was trying to remember carefully.
“It was designed as a kind of weapon. One that did not harm, but one that restored our enemy, banishing the evil from their hearts. The Valalumir itself was the cure.” His green eyes blazed now, full of determination, his hand taking mine. “It was created for this very purpose.”
“By the Gods,” I said.
Auriel nodded. “But the akadim immediately recognized how powerful it was, and tried to steal it. See, they had been corrupted, but they weren’t interested in returning to goodness, only in increasing their power.
Their souls twisted until only their base needs remained.
Hunger. Lust. Violence. They had no interest in returning to their former states.
They made a plan and nearly stole the light from Heaven.
Once that happened, we were summoned. The light was taken to the Hall of Records.
The Guardians were selected to watch it. And the akadim were banished to Earth.”
“And then no one else was allowed to go down there,” I said.
“No. No one else. Until us. Until we happened. We were chosen to guard the light, to spend eternity protecting it, never to fall in love, never to take our attention from it. But … well you know how that ended. We tried for a long time to ignore it, to ignore our feelings. But love won over duty in the end. I couldn’t stay away from you—it didn’t matter what oath I’d sworn.
And we were caught, and you were banished.
” Auriel’s voice cracked, the pain of Asherah’s fall still affecting him.
“I watched you from above. I watched mortality make you ill. And I watched you recover your strength. You did the impossible. You renewed your purpose and continued to fight—leading the charge and diving into the battle against the darkness. You were so brave, and so strong. But so was the enemy. And I couldn’t stay away.
Not from you. And not from the true purpose we’d served.
The light. It was never meant to be locked away or hidden.
Kept from those it could help. Those it could heal.
The Valalumir was always meant to save akadim. So we did what we had to.”
“Wait.” My eyes widened. “Are you saying—Auriel, are you saying we fell on purpose?”
But the truth of it was already in my heart. Yes, we’d been betrayed. But we’d also allowed it to happen. Had been willing to risk eternity to do so. We’d risked everything to be together, and then risked that to save who we could.
“We did.” Auriel shuddered, exhaling. “We did. We were brought before the Council to be punished. But they banished you, only you.” He blew air out of his nose.
“See, they understood how to actually hurt us. By keeping us apart. I begged them. I beseeched them on your behalf. On everyone’s.
But they denied me. So I had no choice. I waited as long as I could for the right moment.
I watched over you, and when the time had come, I stole the light, and I fell.
For you. And for the world. For every soul that had been lost. To show the Council they had been wrong to lock it away.
That they were wrong to let humans suffer for their own cowardice. ”
I could barely breathe. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it thrumming in my ears. “Then what happened?”
“The light couldn’t handle the atmosphere. Couldn’t sustain itself in the material realm. It turned into a crystal. And I panicked. I only managed to save one sliver of light. Yours.” He reached for my heart, his palm gently resting above my breast. “I placed it inside you.”
I rested my hand beside his, feeling my heart beat. Feeling the ghost of another heart. Another life. The same light pulsing inside it.