Chapter 30 #2
She told him about how Narelle, the Sea Goddess, had created lykrens as a weapon to protect the cities deep within the ocean during a feud with her brother, Daichi, God of Earth.
And how Daichi had pulled Narelle’s civilizations from the ocean, creating continents dotting the seas, with marine life dying as they met open air, and used the land as his own.
She explained that Calandra had envied the mortals because they experienced things much more deeply, knowing they were ultimately doomed to die.
Calandra had asked Elysian to take her to the mortal realm, and the Goddess of Life obliged.
In the body of a mortal, Calandra fell in love with a prince.
She had believed him to be her true love, and when the prince rejected her, it destroyed her.
She spent the rest of her life searching for another who could fill her heart like he did.
She opened a portal and walked across realm after realm to find a soulmate that might ease the heartbreak from her first love.
Then one day, she collapsed in the middle of a meadow, its verdant grass gilded in golden light, the weight of heartache finally too much to bear.
A man had approached her, trying to help her to her feet, but she refused.
She told him she was dying, that she couldn’t be saved, and he should leave her.
He did not. He sat there, his hand laced with hers, until her pain was too much.
Calandra’s heart had fractured within her, its shards piercing her organs inside, shredding through her in a slow, agonizing death until they tore free and caused her body to shatter in his arms.
The man had only just met her, but he’d wept over the pieces of her soul as they burned brightly, floating skyward where they scattered across the heavens, leaving only a shattered, bleeding heart behind.
When he reached out to cup the heart in his palms, a golden key took its place.
Calandra had spent the entirety of her life searching for a soulmate she never found until her dying moments, and by then, it was already too late.
So she created the keys to guide others to their true love.
That way, no one would ever have to die of heartbreak like she did.
But his favorite story was the one of the Goddess of Courage and Fire, the one Adara was named after.
A girl from the slums born in the city of Zenura, more commonly known as the Shadow Empire, a land ruled by Darkcasters—people born with dark magic who could manipulate and produce shadows.
The Adara from the story had started a revolution, along with five others, to liberate everyone from Zenura’s tyrannical rule.
But she was captured by the empire and executed by being thrown into a volcano, where she met her fiery demise.
However, Elysian had other plans for Adara and sent her back to the land of the living, more powerful than ever.
She had risen from the ashes and become a Flamecarrier.
The goddess had returned to the empire, and this time, she defeated the emperor.
But she was not a tyrant like he was. She let his loyal subjects live while those who wanted to leave could.
The goddess and the five that helped lead the revolution traveled across the continent and eventually built their own five kingdoms, but not Adara.
The goddess had disappeared into the mountains.
She fell in love, had a family, and when her powers passed down to her offspring, a tribe of Flamecarriers grew.
Dominic let out a deep breath as he ran a hand through his hair, staring at their rippling reflections in the water below.
“Wow,” he breathed. He’d never given much thought to the gods.
Never cared for the stories they had of their own.
Then again, none of it mattered; they weren’t real.
“I guess it’s a good thing they’re all myths, or we’d both be in Helfarrow soon.
I’m sure,” he thought aloud, letting out a bitter chuckle.
Her stories were intriguing, but there was no evidence that they were more than just that—stories.
Adara shook her head. “I will not force you to believe in something you don’t want to, but I have faith in my gods.”
After a long pause of silence, Dominic sighed.
Of course, he deserved an eternity of torment.
It was why he was so grateful to have found Andreilia, to drink its water, and become nearly immortal.
It was why he needed Adara’s key. He could only hope he’d never have to find out what the afterlife held in store for him.
Adara let out a long, exhausted sigh, and took a swig of wine. She shook her head, eyes cast downward on her feet, swaying gently back and forth above the water. “This isn’t going to change anything,” she muttered.
He wondered if he was meant to hear it.
Dominic’s brows pulled together in confusion, angling his head to better see her eyes, searching for answers. “What?” he asked.
“This,” she gestured to her gown, the decorations, the little space between them.
“None of it will change the fact that one of us will kill the other in the end. None of this makes me believe that you care for me because I know it’s all an act.
” She didn’t sound angry, or like she hated how heartless he was to go through all these adventures together, only to kill one another in the end.
Her voice was pained, sad. Although today was a day to celebrate the Goddess of Life, all roads led to one of them dying, despite their near immortality.
“I know,” he said softly, voice filled with that same dread.
Truly, he enjoyed the celebration, enjoyed her company.
But that would not stop him from taking Adara’s key—her life—in the end.
He’d taken the key of one he loved before, killed her, and never regretted his choice. He’d certainly do it again.
“I don’t want to hurt you—” Dominic began. His words were partially true. He didn’t want to see Adara hurt, but his own life was more valuable to him than hers. He had to keep up the act.
“You’re a shit liar,” she repeated from earlier. Her voice was suddenly harsh, rough.
Dominic winced. “No, I’m not.” He tried again to convince her of his lies. “I—”
“Then at least look at me,” she snapped.
Her gaze settled on him. Hot. Burning.
“If this truly isn’t an act of manipulation to win my key, look me in the eyes and say it.”
Slowly, Dominic lifted his head, turning it to meet her relentless glare.
He opened his mouth, fumbling for words as he was suddenly struck by the pained expression she wore.
How could he lie right to her face as she looked at him with such misery?
Such grief. She’d lost so many people. She did not want to lose another.
But did she truly believe he cared for her? Did she really think the Thief of Hearts would do anything but manipulate her? Did she believe there was any chance of them both making it out of this alive?
Surely not. She was the one who waged this bloody war. Which meant her despair, her disappointment, were all an act to make him feel guilty, to get him to let his guard down so she could pry her way into his heart.
Too bad for her, he didn’t have one.
Adara scoffed, “Of course, you can’t.” Abruptly, she stood, shoved her feet into her boots, and laced them up. Turning away from him, she muttered, “I can’t believe I thought . . . Forget it.”
She couldn’t actually believe he stayed for Livisian because he wanted to, could she?
Yes, part of him did have fun, but he cared more for the prize in the end than whatever happened along the way.
She had to know that. Whatever game she was playing, she was good.
Because his stomach churned, his chest tightened, hating the way she spoke to him.
Hating that he felt as if he had let her down.
Dominic scrambled to his feet, pretending to be the frantic lover, desperate to make things right. “Adara, wait—”
A glint of metal cut through the air between them. Dominic barely had enough time to raise his hand and catch the hilt before the blade found its target, buried in his chest.
“A Livisian gift,” she called over her shoulder with a wave of her hand, dismissing him entirely. “You don’t deserve it, but I don’t need it.” Then she strutted into the night, skirts swaying in the wind as the darkness swallowed her the farther she traveled up the stairs and into the city.
Letting out a frustrated breath, Dominic tilted his head to the sky, lips pressing into a thin line, eyes closed.
She always managed to see through his act, yet he couldn’t tell when she was pretending and when she wasn’t.
It was extremely irritating. How was he ever going to make her love him if she always knew he never meant anything he said?
He turned the dagger over in his hands, inspecting the finely crafted weapon she had thrown at him.
Dark as the space between the stars and sharp as a lykren’s tooth.
Simple—no gaudy jewels decorating the pommel—but exquisite.
Exactly how Dominic liked his weapons. There was no need for showy ornamentations when they would only be covered in blood.
How she knew him so well, picked up on such little things, Dominic didn’t know.
It only agitated him more, knowing how well she observed everything.
None of his other victims had known they were in a game of love.
None of them had known that he was manipulating them, but Adara had been the one to approach him.
It proved to be much more difficult when both people knew it was only a game.
He was running out of time.
Time had a continuous nature, yet somehow, in the end, he’d always run out of it. Time might have been infinite, but life was not, even after all his years searching for immortality.
Dominic let out a frustrated snarl, picking up the wine bottle and hurling it at a wall. Glass shattered, scattering across the docks and into the sea. Red wine dripped down the stone like blood beneath the moonlight.
Dominic muttered a curse, running a hand through his hair.
“Did that make you feel better?” a deep, rugged voice said from behind.
Dominic whirled, flipping his new onyx dagger to be parallel with his arm and placing it against the man’s throat, the polished blade glinting. The dark hair, the silver eyes full of loathing, were all too familiar.
“No,” Dominic said, voice dripping with venom. “I’d much rather hurl you at the wall and watch your blood drip into the harbor.”
Damon Lunard laughed in his face. He pressed the knife harder against the captain’s pale throat. A thin trail of blood trickled down Lunard’s neck.
“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t slit your throat right here.”
Lunard chuckled darkly. “I’m afraid if you did that, you’d lose some valuable information.” Dominic raised a brow. “About Adara.”
“What could you possibly know about her that would concern me?” Curious, Dominic released his hold on the pirate and dropped his dagger to his side.
Lunard was fast, but Dominic would be faster to strike, even with his weapon lowered. Out of all their years together, Damon had seldom bested Dominic. Valen was the one who usually kicked both their asses.
Lunard eyed the knife in Dominic’s hand. Knowing Dominic would never part with his weapons, the captain dismissed it as enough of a surrender to talk civilly. “She never told me much during our time together on my ship. I know she has a home she wants to return to but cannot—”
Dominic rolled his eyes and cut in. “I already know that.”
Lunard held up a hand, and Dominic shut his mouth for once, eager to gain any information that might help him win this war.
“But after I told her the legacy of Andreilia and its water that can make one ageless, she became so eager to go there. Threatened me many times to take her there—immediately. I have a feeling she wasn’t so eager about being eternally young.
A few months wouldn’t make a difference, but she wanted to journey there the moment I mentioned it.
I reckon there’s something else she’s after. ”
Yeah, my key. Dominic clamped down on his retort. “She said she needed what everyone else needed,” he pondered aloud. “Time.”
The pirate nodded, silver jewelry swaying from his ears, shadowed by his jet-black hair. “That’s right, my friend.”
Dominic aimed his knife at Lunard’s chest. “I am not your friend,” he snarled. No, they hadn’t been friends for a very long time. Not after what happened to Valen. Lunard was only toying with him, pretending to be an ally, as if they could ever be the brothers they once were.
Lunard ignored the jab. “My point is that Adara is hiding something. I reckon it has something to do with the Realm Fracturer.”
“Yeah,” Dominic grumbled. “She doesn’t know how to get to two of the relics.”
Damon thought about this for a moment. “She knows something,” he said with certainty. “She wouldn’t charge into a bargain with you if she didn’t have a plan. Perhaps she’s hiding the relics from you.”
Dominic shook his head, pinched the bridge of his nose. None of this was making sense. What could Adara possibly need time for? Where would she even hide such relics if she were able to find them before he had? And why would Lunard warn him?
“Why are you telling me this?” he asked.
Lunard merely shrugged, a devious glint in his eyes. “I warned Adara about you before she arrived on the island. It’s only fair that I give you the advantage now.”
That wasn’t all. Dominic could tell there was something he was leaving unsaid. The captain would never simply give away information to make their game fair.
“What else?” Dominic said, angling his knife toward Lunard’s throat again. One swift motion and his blood would be spilling on the docks, his body drifting out into the Plagued Sea. If Dominic weren’t such a coward, he would have done it.
“Use the Realm Fracturer like you promised you would, and maybe I’ll forgive you.”