Chapter 4
Four
Waking the next morning, I felt sore all through my back and shoulders, stretching and cracking my bones to alleviate some of the tension, but without success.
On any normal night, I would have unending vivid dreams, but last night, I closed my eyes after the Awakening and instantly fell asleep.
Then, it was morning. Not a single dream or nightmare plagued me.
My bones were heavy as I sluggishly threw my legs over the edge of the bed, my mind feeling just as slow.
I could have laid in bed for hours, not truly taking in anything around me, with not a single thought entering my mind, but my life didn’t afford me that luxury.
Deciding the only thing that would enable me to reset and start anew after last night was a scalding hot shower, which turned my skin red from the searing heat, I plucked myself up.
The sadder I was, the hotter the water had to be.
It was almost as if it melted away the pain; the warmth enveloping me made me feel at peace, even if only for the briefest moment.
Those showers were also one of the few places where I could cry without anyone being the wiser.
When spilling blood couldn’t ground me, hot water always doused that incessant inner fire that raged inside me.
Cylptus leaves hung in my shower, and combined with the steam, they let out soothing aromas that helped to relax me.
The pelting of the hot water eased every tense muscle beneath my skin.
At some point, my mind drifted so far that I realised at least an hour had passed.
My mind had no energy to think a single thought.
I stared at the hand painted tiles as I tried to shake my mind awake.
Taking a deep breath, I forced myself out of the shower and into a black outfit that emulated my mood and would clearly tell everyone who saw me to fuck off.
The only thing with an ounce of colour was my mother’s golden sword.
Instantly, I was brought back to the moment I received it after her death.
I dreamed of owning that blade my whole life, and when my mother died, there was a piece of me that thought, finally.
It was ornate in design; one might think it was only decorative.
But no blade I had ever touched was sharper or more perfectly balanced.
Forged by the first dragons, the pommel contained a single jewel the size of a small mouse, within which sat the eternal flame.
The grip and cross guard featured intricate filigree patterns.
It looked like a work of art rather than a lethal weapon.
I never felt more powerful than when I weighed it carefully in my hands. It was an extension of me.
I found myself in the library, feeling refreshed, albeit vulnerable.
I plastered a look of cold indifference on my face.
No one who crossed paths with me would ever imagine what was raging within my mind.
I was the picture of certainty and strength, not the raw and exposed little girl that I felt like after Sienna had spent the night stripping me bare.
The library was a refuge of mine, a place I came to escape my world by falling into the pages of another.
While Cain habitually stayed in the library, he did so to learn anything and everything he could.
I, on the other hand, used the books to experience things I never would have otherwise.
Maybe it was because I never felt loved or could say that I loved anyone in my life—even my own blood—unconditionally, that I immersed myself in tales of love and lust. Those books were simple.
They all played out the same way and they were always happy in the end; I wanted a taste.
I would never have any of it, but if only for a moment I could dream and imagine it was me with each flick of the page.
Perhaps that was why I had become so broken in the first place.
I had spent my entire life until last night running from my painful memories, whether in blood or in books.
Today was different. I needed something else.
The library was warm and inviting, with a hearth laid beneath a stained-glass window that shone through images of the first dragons.
I remember being puzzled as a child by the roaring fire that never dimmed, even in the summer months.
My father explained that it guarded the books, and a single ember could not burn a page within this library unless it was to protect—protect the knowledge and secrets contained within the tomes of this city.
Even during the most sweltering months of summer, the library was never stifling because of the fire.
It adjusted itself to the needs of the books.
My father told me that every tome lived and breathed within these walls, and as such, they grew cold from neglect.
He said that a steady fire would spread its heat to the furthest shelves in the deepest crevices of these walls.
Wrapping each page in a warm embrace, letting the knowledge know it was never truly forgotten.
Walking to the back of the library for what felt like hours, time was different amongst all this history; it stretched and folded in on itself.
The further I descended the spiralling stone steps, the blurrier the line became between then and now.
I came to the end of the steps, passing level after level of books that got colder and darker.
It was blackened metal, with young dragons curling over the door frame.
The flicker of a single torch on the wall beside it reflected blue light in their jewelled eyes.
I placed my hand on the door and breathed deeply as I let the thrum of the eternal flame within my veins rise to the surface, revealing that the door and I were one and the same.
I was a part of it; I had the old magic within me, and I was no stranger.
A moment later, the door unlatched and creaked open.
The room was small, damp and quiet. The walls were bare, aside from a few torches that never dimmed, like the hearth above.
The flames shone blue, touched by the power of what sat in the middle of the room on a dais carved from obsidian.
The Oracle—a solid tome covered in gold and silver metal, encrusted with blue sapphires—was laid before me.
As I neared the book of my ancestors, the sapphires glowed brighter, as if they were calling to what lay underneath my skin.
The Oracle was a book of many secrets and it only answered to me.
The Spirit Casters had told me about the book upon my ascension.
It was one that could only be read by those who contained the flame within them; to anyone else, the pages would appear barren.
To me, they contained rich, vibrant colours—swirling as I opened the pages, deciding what they wanted to show me.
Black smoke seeped out of the pages and spilled onto the floor before settling around me.
The Oracle would paint a picture of the future before me.
I had to be precise in the questions I asked or the thoughts I possessed when looking at it; otherwise, the images would be just as vague.
‘Tell me what you see unfolding at the Academy on the night of the Alumni Ball. Where are my enemies?’ I breathed into the heavy silence.
The pages rustled and flipped as if caught by a wind, yet there was none.
They settled and flattened before me. The same black smoke shimmered across the pages before sinking back into the paper.
The thing that hit me first was the feeling; the book would never offer words, but the images it showed and the feelings it conveyed to me were enough.
The emotions that settled deep within my bones from those pages were clear: shock and confusion.
The images glimmered before me. I was standing in the hall of the Academy, a place I had marched through many times to get to and from classes, but this night the ball raged within the double doors behind me, and there stood Demir.
His expression was nothing but anger and disdain for me, and the usual hate that filled my heart when I looked at him was replaced by shock and confusion.
I couldn’t understand it, and as if realising I needed more, the pages in the Oracle morphed once again, black smoke pouring out onto the stone floor.
This time, it was Visarous watching me and Demir down the hall, covered in darkness, loathing roiling through every breath of his before he turned and faded away, leaving me there with Demir.
I took a step towards Demir, arm outstretched.
I wasn’t going to attack; it was curiosity that flooded my mind.
The Alumni Ball was four days away. If that was the worst of what the Oracle could show me, at least I had nothing to fear from Demir’s plans to end me before I could even make it to the ball. I supposed that in the next day or two, he would get my little message and change his course.
‘Show me his death. Show me the Morgadian king in his final moments’.
My favourite scene, one I asked the Oracle to show time and time again.
The black smoke pooled again and I saw the same scene I had seen many times before.
This is the one image of the future that seemed to never change, no matter the choices I made or the actions I took.
This day was inevitable. Sebastian lay dead at my feet, my sword dripping with blood.
In that moment, I felt peace, as if the wind that blew through the clearing and shook the grass also shook free something within me and carried it away.
I had never known peace like that; the only time I felt it was when I stepped inside this single image.
I had not even found that in the embrace of another.
Many previous queens had sent themselves mad staring at the Oracle.
It was easy to become consumed by the possibilities in these pages.
Living in a fantasy of things that have not happened or being paranoid about every decision and moment that could change everything.
Instead, they watched the possibilities of their lives rather than living in reality.
I myself never had much of an affinity for this book; it was convenient at best, but knowing how quickly things could change depending on others, it was not meant to be trusted completely.
Some would sit and stew over their final moments displayed within the Oracle’s pages.
I, however, did not fear death. After all I had been through and how shattered I was, if it came to me one day, I would greet it with a smile and thank it for the sweet reprieve it would gift me.
That same peace I felt when I looked at the Morgadian king’s head at my feet is what I dreamed of washing over me as darkness consumed me and never let me go again.
I had never asked the Oracle to show me my final moments; I simply did not care so long as I got vengeance first, and the Oracle had always been certain I would.
Running into Cain, who was sitting at a long wooden table in the main chamber of the library, I approached him cautiously.
He looked at me, worry in his eyes. He had been waiting to see how I was after last night.
I could tell he wanted to ask how I was, but we had an unwritten rule between us.
The nights when the panic took hold of me and I needed him would not exist beyond that room and that single night, never to be spoken of again.
Instead, he would find some reason to bump into me the next day to check how I was doing.
‘What news do you have for me today?’ I asked.
Cain passed me a note that read, Demir is on his way.
He will reach the Academy tomorrow morning.
This was not something that required a report first thing; he had been grasping at an excuse to check in.
I gritted my teeth in response while pondering his words.
It made no sense for Demir to arrive nearly two full days before the ball was to take place, unless he was still planning to attack me.
‘Why is he arriving so early? Has he not been swayed with my message?’
The words on the parchment I held curled and bent into new letters.
No, Blake will cross paths with Demir on route in about three hours. Then he will know and undoubtedly change his mind, knowing we are anticipating him.
The spark of an idea formed in my mind, but Cain knew me well enough that the letters on the parchment shifted again before I could even voice it.
I know what you’re thinking, but you cannot attack his convoy on the way there.
I looked into it with Viv. It’s not possible.
You will have time to make your move, but remember your true goal is greater than him; it’s his father.
Don’t lose focus now. Do not let your emotions sway you from the greater goal.
I know the audacity of sending a spy into your walls cannot go unpunished but you proved your point with your mutilation stunt.
I know his plan was to get to you on your journey there, but taking his plan and turning it onto him out of spite is the decision of a child, not a ruler.
I couldn’t help but smirk. He knew me better than I knew myself. I was annoyed that he called my thought process childish, but he was right. Demir was a side quest and a distraction. His father was the immediate threat who deserved my blade on a much deeper level.
Once I took a steadying breath and Cain was sure I was not going to do anything immediately reckless, smoke started seeping from his skin.
That is where my people got their name—‘Skin Seepers’.
It was a rare gift passed down through our bloodline.
The smoke billowed around him as his body morphed into that of a silky black bird, and he flew out of the slightly ajar window near the ceiling.
Off to track the movements of our enemies and allies alike.
The idea of seeing the son of the man who had killed my sister stirred anger in my veins, and I let it consume me, not wanting to think about every other emotion that had been unlocked within me.
I had hoped the first time I saw him again would be on the battlefield—where I planned to slit his throat—but instead it would be a frivolous affair where the wards would stop me from fulfilling my deepest darkest desires.