Chapter 15 #3
“The queen heard rumors of a great power, of gods who walked among them and had been seeking one for centuries. Through pure luck, she managed to trap one.” Caelan hissed, and my eyebrows shot up into my hairline.
“My sister was caught in her vessel by experimental magic that we were unaware had been created in this realm,” Caelan said, his head turning ever so slightly to his left.
He sounded bitter, and I glanced at the empty throne beside him, the hair on my neck prickling.
“How is that even possible?” I questioned, and Caelan's gaze snapped back to mine. His eyes glowing a bright blue.
“Do not dare ask me how,” he nearly shouted, and a wave of power flowed past me, making me shiver. “Just know that through some evil, she was able to entrap my sister's essence in her vessel and take her away.”
I squared my shoulders, and my gaze met his again. “You never told me what a vessel was.”
Caelan’s eyes dimmed, their power lessening as he rolled his shoulders softly, chin lifting.
“Vessels are born into every realm, created with the sole purpose of allowing us to enter your world. Their unique biology enables them to carry our divine power, our essence, so that we may act within your world through them. This allows us to move between realms and guide others, fulfilling our purpose of directing souls toward their destined paths. It is not only mortals we may inhabit; creatures can also serve as vessels. Most vessels are born into the same bloodlines, repeatedly, unless that line ends, in which case we create a new one.”
My mouth parted slightly, my mind whirling with this new information. “So, Soren is your vessel?”
“One of them, yes. This is why in your world and many others, we are known as the faceless gods. It's also why throughout history, everyone who has encountered us has offered a different description, depicting us as young, old, or even as monstrous creatures.”
“How then did the queen find your sister?”
“My sister had a soft heart for one of her vessels. She often visited it, the town, and became known by others. The rumors then followed.” Caelan gritted his teeth, his voice haunting and full of emotion.
His eyes were distant, as if visiting her now.
I cleared my throat, and his gaze seemed to return, his eyes locking onto mine.
“The queen experimented on my sister, learned how to access her knowledge. Through whatever magic she learned, she had been able to reach into the mind of the vessel my sister inhabited and was able to see what she knew.”
I didn’t have to ask what that meant, as Caelan already heard the question in my mind.
“When we inhabit a vessel, our host isn't ejected. Merely pushed back. We might inhabit their bodies, but they are still able to see as we do. Observe and witness our thoughts, our visions as they occur. Consequently, anything we discover, think or learn while inside them is also known to them.”
My back stiffened, a wave of unease washing over me. So, Soren was here too, watching us? Aware and listening to this very interaction. That was… fuck—that was insane.
Caelan didn't seem to notice my discomfort, or perhaps he did but continued regardless.
“The queen absorbed a great deal of knowledge from delving into the vessel's mind, meticulously recording it all in a book. However, one particular form of magic captivated her most: a spell capable of tearing away another's magic, their soul.”
My nostrils flared as the realization struck—this knowledge, this magic, was known only in our world because of them. Anger ignited in my chest, but as his power surged in the air once more, I inhaled deeply, attempting to calm my racing heart.
“The queen had a new goal—to become immortal, to be a god among her peers. She worked tirelessly to rip my sister’s essence from that vessel, but no man, woman, mortal or otherwise, can steal our power. It is not something one can take. Only give.”
A chill ran through me at the knowledge that something this vast, this powerful could be given to someone, passed on. I shuddered internally, but waited for him to continue.
“The queen once again found a way to twist the spell she discovered, experimenting with it and creating a curse that would mimic immortality—a crude mockery of us.”
“What do you mean?” I hissed, the fabric on my skin feeling way too tight suddenly.
“Upon her death in battle, her soul, her magic, and consciousness transferred to her only living heir, her daughter, merging with her and making them one.”
My eyes widened, and the shock of what he had said settled into my bones like an icy chill.
“The queen slowly awoke within her heir, pushing her daughter back and claiming control of her body, her mind. However, unlike a mere vessel, her dark magic consumed the daughter, reducing her to nothing more than the bare essence of herself—her magic. Thus, Morgana was alive once more, her power stronger now, merged with that of her daughters.”
My blood boiled. Only a monster would sacrifice her own child, her own flesh and blood, to save herself. It was an act so unthinkable, so selfish, it was beyond cruel.
“This cycle continued for seven generations,” Caelan stated smoothly, his guttural voice devoid of emotion. A chill ran through me as I absorbed his words. The story, the details, finally clicking into place.
“So, what you're saying is...” I let my sentence hang, my breath catching in my throat.
I snatched up the crystal glass and downed its contents in a single gulp.
Caelan smiled sadly, “Morgana is not your mother, but your ancestor—seven generations back—who has been passing generation to generation through her bloodline to survive.”
But that would mean…
Caelan nodded again.
“Morgana may look like your mother, Xavier, but she is far from it. And far more dangerous, more powerful than you can imagine.”
What of my mother? Was she still in there? Still fighting?
Caelan looked somber again in my direction, “Your mother is no longer there consciously. Only her power, and her body remains.”
A hollow ache began in my chest, filling me with icy rage.
It was as if someone ripped my stomach from me, leaving me empty.
Nothing but a burning pain that was igniting in my veins, my chest as bile churned and rose in the back of my throat.
My mother, who I had grieved, was nothing but a shell, her life, her memory now tainted in the eyes of my people.
She didn’t do this… and the relief of that knowledge was crushing and yet so devastating that I felt I couldn’t breathe.
It changed everything that I thought, and guilt stabbed my gut as it plummeted again.
I had believed my mother evil, when all along…
Realization struck my spine like a blow, and I whipped my gaze toward the Fate. Vision blurred as tears burned behind my eyes. Did that mean I was next?
“The curse is contained to only female heirs.”
My chest deflated with my breath at not being victim to this curse, that Jaxon and I were safe, but my mind speared for one other–Lana.
Caelan sighed heavily.
“And if Lana dies?” I spoke the question out loud, but many more raced in my mind. If she died and we killed Morgana, it would be over. It would—
“Her soul will go dormant in the in-between until the next female heir is born within your bloodline.”
No.
Cursing, I roared, slamming my hands onto the table, needing to do something, anything.
My palms gripped the smooth wood, the crystal pitcher and glasses falling to the floor and shattering at my feet.
I threw the table as far as I could and watched it splinter on the marble, its pieces ricocheting into the air.
As if passing some sort of ward, they were sucked into the abyss surrounding us.
Breathing heavily, I looked back down to find another table in front of me. The crystal reformed and full of liquid again at its center. I snarled again, knocking it over. The crystal flew and once again shattered onto the marble. The table followed closely behind.
My chest rose and fell and I glared at the unmoving god. Another table appeared, more crystal, and I snarled again louder, clenching my fists.
“So, even if we kill her, kill Lana, she will come back?”
“Yes.”
My palms slapped the table over again, and I knew I was throwing a tantrum, but I didn’t fucking care.
What was the point of this, of any of this?
Morgana had made herself untouchable—nearly immortal.
The only alternative was to make sure Jaxon and I never bore children and let our bloodline die with us.
My stomach twisted at the thought of asking that of Jaxon…
of Zara. I didn't know if Zara even wanted children…
but the thought of taking yet another choice away from her—of that witch taking away another part of her.
It had my chest caving in. Zara may be fighting our bond now, but I wanted—needed—to protect her, her choices, even if that future ends up not being a possibility for us.
“There is one path, Xavier. Only one, in which she is gone forever.”
Hope sprang in my chest, and I growled, taking a threatening step forward, “Tell me.” I would torture the knowledge from him if I had to. This was all happening because of them. Because of the knowledge they let slip into our world.
A ghostly wind slammed into my chest, knocking me back into my chair. My palms clutched at the arms as I gritted my teeth, trying to stand, but it was as if I were glued to it. Stuck. Thrashing, I glared at Caelan and watched as his gaze lit up, the glowing blue of his eyes shining brightly.
Quiet!
His ancient voice slammed into my mind, and I stilled, my breathing heavy.
“I need to continue the story, Xavier. We are running out of time,” Caelan barked viciously, and the pressure on my limbs began to ease. I rolled my shoulders, but my foot tapped impatiently on the floor as I waited for him to continue.