18. Beg My Forgiveness
Regos of his appearance, all of the sudden, in full, unrestrained deity form. The horror that had flooded through the bond when he’d walked into her bedroom to correct her misbelief about the gods wanting nothing to do with her, had shattered his hope that she was otherwise unharmed. Even then, he had held out hope – hope that Kheos would have spared her. He hadn’t.
Now, as he knelt, hands sinking into the freshly fallen snow beneath him, he realized how much of a fool he had been. How could he have been so stupid? Why had he trusted Kheos? Why hadn’t he granted her to himself? Why had he let Kheos force him to wait so long? What was he to do now that she knew her mate was a god? Now that she knew he was entirely useless?
Thoughts of Regos flowed into his mind on the heels of his consideration of death. He huffed, shoving them away. Kheos’ voice echoed in his head. “If you want to replace the godhead with yourself, do it.” His brother’s goading held truth. He already knew that he’d crossed a line – done something that couldn’ t be undone. He groaned.
There, in the heart of that small clearing in the Loriax, he had blurred the lines between the function of the godhead. Everything in the universe was off-balance, and no matter how much he wished he could ignore it, he knew there would need to be a restoration of equilibrium. A law as ancient as time, shattered in one moment. He’d disregarded his responsibility of restraint, and drawn a line in the sand that he was unfairly tempting his younger brother to cross. Stepping into another god’s territory was to rightly incite their wrath.
And of all the gods he had tempted, it had been Death. What would become of all his creation if he continued to incite wars? Guilt and regret bit into him. Its physical ache spread through his chest. He had disregarded Regos – commanded him not to approach the throne. Discarded him like trash.
“Segund primordial, I request your presence.” The words faded into stillness.
Nothing around him moved save for the raging thunderhead clouds above him, the blustering winds – the torrents of swirling snow. Theos listened to the stillness, searching the realms of the phantaron for his brother, trying to trace his path of manifestation. Nothing. Regos wasn’t coming. This was the first time in all their histories together, in the rise and fall of all the civilizations of old, that Regos had refused to grace him with his presence. His brother was angry with him, and he deserved every drop of his derision.
“Regos, please.”
More agonizing minuxs passed. Still, nothing.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered into the wind, knowing that his brother would hear him.
He rocked back onto his heels, raising his head to the sky. The snowflakes settled on his face, melting and losing the delicately crafted shapes and forms he’d given them, when they touched his warm skin. He could feel the bond in his chest, a small hum. Haera was asleep in bed, where he had left her. Another emotional crash had left her exhausted, curled into a tight ball.
A shift in the phantaron – darkness surged, swallowing the light around him as the god of Death and The Hells manifested.
Theos’ eyes were closed, but he saw Regos’ glare slant across at him as clearly as though they were open.
“Your Majesty.” Regos’ use of the formalities was clipped, begrudging. So many words unspoken. So many feelings unshared.
“You came.” Was Theos’ quiet reply .
After the first formal request and the segund pleading appeal were ignored, he had muttered the apology and given up on speaking with his brother.
Regos’ glare was still fixed on him, burning holes in the sides of his face. “You summoned.”
A low hum flowed out of Theos in response. Despite the dark anger that was rolling off his younger brother, Theos’ lips pulled into a smile. Opening his eyes and rising to his full height, Theos turned his attention to Regos.
“And you resent me for it.” He answered.
Theos looked off to the side for a moment, watching a ghouwl flit through the snow on wings that were completely silent. His lips were pulling into a smile, but the bird, as though struck, fell to the snowy mountainside with a thud of finality. Theos’ smile faltered, and he turned to face Regos, fists balling at his sides the way Regos’ already were.
He cocked his head, the burn of irritation settling into his chest. “That was unnecessarily cruel.”
Regos offered him only a dark glare.
“Your anger is bleeding into the worlds and causing unnecessary damage,” Theos commented lowly, watching in his syn as deaths increased the longer Regos trembled with rage before him.
“You’re certainly one to reprimand me about maintaining restraint and observing protocol.” Regos snapped.
Theos’ brows pulled together, but he didn’t reply. He had expected his brother to be angry, but he hadn’t anticipated that he was planning to abandon all protocol and lean into blatant disrespect. Still, he had earned it. He had done the same to him in his eagerness to rescue Haera.
“Perhaps your response is warranted,” Theos answered, matching his brother’s glare. “But do not forget whom you are responding to.”
The muscles in Regos’ jaws rolled at the reminder of their relative positions. Theos waited, but his brother’s response never came. He saw something shift in his red eyes; a mask, as it slid into place.
“I called you here to offer you an apology.”
“Your apology will not undo the damage you have done,” Regos replied, his voice now unnervingly free of all the anger he had been displaying a moment ago. “You have not only shown clear disregard for your own law, but you have displayed an intent to replace the rightful owner of the position you are violating. And in the event that your mind is somehow clouded, the power to end life belongs to me.”
He shook his head at Regos. “That was not my intention – ”
“Your intentions matter little when the weight of the impact of your actions has crossed an irreparable line. It cannot be undone.”
“I was in a tough position – ”
“Were you?” Regos cut in again.
Theos’ jaws ground together at the continuous interruptions, but he let his brother continue.
“In that moment before you let the darkness overcome your soul, was your voice unable to call out for me?”
“Regos she is my mate I had to de – ”
“Which makes her my sister. I would have dropped everything to defend her, but you took what was rightfully mine instead!” he roared.
The unrestrained bellow of words that was coming from his brother made Theos’ breath halt in his throat and his fists tighten at his sides. The sound of his teeth grinding together was loud in his ears.
“What do you want from me?” he asked, his voice quiet despite the anger raging between them. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have done it. I crossed the line, and it cannot be undone. But what do you want me to do ?”
Regos did not respond. Theos turned away, sinking to his knees and digging his hands deep into the snow, a desperate effort to ground himself. The silence stretched.
“Beg my forgiveness.” Came Regos’ reply.
Theos’ jaws locked. “You jest.”
“Death never plays games with his food.”
Theos snarled; teeth bared. His leap to his feet was fast, fluid.
“You would – ”
Regos shook his head, cutting him off again. “You are not in a position to negotiate, oh mighty king .”
The sarcastic reference to his title pierced like a bolt of lightning to Theos’ heart.
“You have almost broken me once, painted streaks of light in my darkness. Now your soul is tinged with my power. Give it back. Beg my forgiveness and swear that it will never happen again. ”
Every muscle in Theos’ body was stiff. He glared at his brother dead on. Neither of them moved or spoke again until the war that raged in Theos’ mind reached boiling point.
“As. You. Wish.” Through gritted teeth. “I crossed the line.” Even as he spoke, his aura of light wavered. It dipped and surged. Darkness, then light. Light, then darkness. Like the flickering of the suns. “I cannot undo what I have done. But forgive me.”
Regos’ features never changed. “I said beg .”
A threatening growl filled the atmosphere around them, pressing in on their bodies with the rumble of his anger.
“I came because you said you were sorry. Is that no longer the case?” It was Regos’ turn to angle his head at Theos. Something like hurt tinged his voice. “If you cannot beg my forgiveness, your own brother, how will you beg for hers?” Regos asked.
Theos snarled. “She is my mate. I would grovel on my knees for her. For you, I will not .”
Regos’ eyes searched Theos’. “Perhaps that is the problem.” He faded into the phantaron before Theos could respond.