Chapter 15

15

" D amien also used the blood of my sire to subdue and capture me," he continues.

"But why would your sire allow that? Wouldn't he know what the blood was being used for?"

He purses his lips.

"My sire has been dead for thousands of years. Long before I left Tartareia."

"Then how?"

"My brother must have kept some of his blood before his death. It is the only plausible explanation, but it is also the one that cuts the most because it means he must have been planning to kill me from the beginning."

"But he's your brother! How could he kill his own blood?"

"I am sorry to break it to you, Barbi, but my world is nothing like your human one. There are no fraternal bonds, nor are there paternal or maternal. Marriages are alliances and children are a way to gain power. Every single Son of Tenebreis is on his own, selfishly killing, scheming, and betraying. It is why Tartareia was sealed off so easily in the past because we are not capable of working together. Everyone wants power. But no one wants to share that power."

"That sounds…bleak."

"It is." He nods. "For all intents and purposes, the universe is better off with Tartareia sealed off."

"Yet you're searching for an artifact to break the seal," I note, regarding him thoughtfully.

"I never said I was not selfish," he remarks.

I bite my lip in worry.

"What will happen once the seal breaks?"

He tips his head back, his eyes closing.

"Mayhem. There are not that many Sons of Tenebreis surviving since the war with Aperion decimated our ranks. Within our royal houses, there are perhaps a few hundred purebloods remaining. But they are all hungry for power and vengeance. They will not rest until Aperion, and the whole universe for that matter, is theirs."

"And you want to unleash that into the universe? Knowing what a danger they are?"

"If not me, then someone else will."

"Then why all this trouble? Why not let Damien get to the artifact first and just go after him when the seal is broken?" I ask, confused.

"Because that artifact does not only break the seal." His lips quirk up. "It also gives its owner an advantage."

"I'm not following."

"The Sons of Tenebreis are dangerous, do not get me wrong. But they are not the worst danger in the universe. Eons ago, there were three types of beings created from the Source—of light, of darkness, and of nether. Seven beings of light, seven beings of darkness, and seven beings in between. They were the Primordial gods, and together, they created all mortals—of the human kind or the supernatural."

I listen to his words, entranced. I have never heard of anything like it, and for some reason, excitement unfurls in my chest the more he recounts about these ancient powers. For someone who's been consuming fantastical fiction from a young age, this is a dream come true!

"But conflict soon arose among the three factions of Primordials. Each wanted to control the mortals in a way, some for good, others for evil. The first war was started over the fate of mortals. It raged for millennia. All factions were equally matched in strength, so all the battles would end in a draw. That is until the light Primordials struck a deal with the nether Primordials to share power. And the only way for them to do so unbothered was by getting rid of the dark Primordials. Together, they created Tartarstasis, a prison realm that could hold the seven dark Primordials."

"Okay, and what happened next?" I ask eagerly.

"The Seven were trapped in Tartarstasis, and the fourteen Primordials created Aperion, a joint realm that would allow them to control the universe as they saw fit. And as a reactionary movement, the descendants of the Seven created Tartareia, a realm directly opposite to Aperion in every way and meant to continue the fight in the name of the Seven. Except… Something happened. No one knows why, but after some time, the Primordials simply disappeared. It was as if they washed their hands of the fate of the universe."

"What?" My eyes widen.

"But they left something behind." He smiles. "Fourteen artifacts that contain their essence—should the universe ever need their power again. And since the fourteen imprisoned the Seven with their essence, only their essence can free them once more."

"So while this artifact we're looking for can break the seal of Tartareia, the fourteen of them combined can open Tartarstasis? Do I have that right? And the Sons of Tenebreis want to release the Seven into the universe and control them?"

"Yes. That is the short version."

I stare at him wide-eyed.

"So who are the good guys?"

He chuckles.

"Are there any good guys? I doubt it."

"Of course you'd say that," I grumble. "You're a Son of Tenebreis. You're literally a descendant of the Seven."

"I never claimed to be a good guy."

"But…" I blink furiously, my mind trying to make sense of all of this. "Is that why you want the artifact? Because you want to free the Seven into the world? You want to…" I choke on my words. "You want to unleash those evil beings into the universe? And you want me to go along with that? Are you absolutely mad?"

He scoffs.

"Do not be so dramatic, dear. Unfortunately, my goals are not so lofty. I do not care about the Seven. But my brother does. And if I get the artifact first, that means he will not get it. The only reason I wish to return to Tartareia is to eliminate my brother once and for all."

"Why? Because he tried to kill you? I'm sure if you talked, maybe you could find some common ground. Why, maybe it was all a misunderstanding and?—"

"You are far too innocent, Barbi." He laughs. "There will be no talking. There will only be blood spilled and screams of pain. It is the least he deserves after everything he's done to me."

"But you're still alive. It can't be that bad. Brothers shouldn't kill each other," I whisper softly.

"I may be alive. But Mo is not. And it is all because of him," he grits out, the color of his irises shifting to reflect his rage.

I freeze.

There it is, that name again.

Mo.

"Who…" I take a deep breath, unsure whether I am ready for his answer. "Who is Mo?"

He spares me a bored glance.

"The female who should have been my mate."

The words aren't spoken with malice or a hint of accusation. It's just an observation, and that makes it all the more painful to hear.

My heart slams against my ribcage as I stare at him. I gulp down against the wave of emotions threatening to spill over.

Pain strikes in my breast, leaving me gasping for air as I try to maintain my composure lest he sees how much those words affected me.

So Mo was a woman.

I suspected as much, but to have it confirmed feels like a thousand bullets have pierced my body all at once.

It's just a silly crush, Barbi! You'll get over it.

I try to convince myself of that, but the truth is, the more time I spend in his presence, the less it feels like a silly crush and more like…

My lips tremble as I stretch them in a nonchalant smile.

"So you're not gay?" I ask jokingly in an attempt to hide my hurt.

"No." A smile pulls at his lips.

"So when we get to Tartareia, someone should be able to help us sever our bond?"

He nods.

Hope blooms in my chest. I will nurture this crush until then and enjoy this adventure for however long it lasts. And when it's time to say goodbye… I will just have to be strong enough to be able to utter the words aloud.

"The elders should know what to do."

"Good. Then let's get this artifact! The faster we get it, the sooner we can go our separate ways."

"You are eager to get rid of me now?" He raises an amused brow.

I smile as I flutter my lashes.

"I might have liked you a tiny bit before I realized you would condemn the universe to a wretched fate just to get revenge against your brother. Now…" I shake my head.

"It is better we reach an understanding before we move forward," he starts in a stern voice. "My only purpose is to avenge Mo. I do not care about the world or what happens after I have killed my brother." He pauses, his gaze finding mine. "I am not a good person, Barbi, nor do I desire to be one."

Lucky you, Mo. Nykander would literally bring about the apocalypse for you. Maybe it's a tad bit extreme, but I can't deny that the romantic in me is ready to swoon at his declaration.

The rational part of me, though?

Dear Lord, I got accidentally mated to a goddamn psycho!

"Oh, don't worry about me." I wave my hand around dismissively. "I'll just tag along until we break our bond and then we'll never see each other again," I quip happily, though the pretense is costly.

Why does my chest feel so tight?

Why does it feel as if I swallowed pieces of broken glass, the sharp edges stuck in my throat, clogging it and making it bleed until I'm overflowing with blood on the inside?

I do not have an answer for why I feel that way, but I fear I may know the cause.

It is a plague. The most widespread plague.

And I have finally caught it.

Unfortunately, my demise will not be swift. It will be slow and torturous, each minute creating a new wound on my poor heart.

"Right," he mutters, his eyes narrowed at me.

I force my smile to be wider, happier.

"What's next then? Where are we going?"

A pensive look descends on his face as he releases a deep breath.

"I have a clue. But I have yet to figure out what it means."

"So what's the clue? Maybe I can help."

He gives me a pointed look that says as if . But he shares it anyway.

"All I got is a riddle, but I cannot seem to solve it. It goes as follows: the vinerelle will lead the way east of the Gyral Mountains. We are in the Gyral Mountains. But I do not know what vinerelle is supposed to mean," he adds in a gruff voice.

I stare at him in wonder.

"You don't?" I ask in surprise. "How long did you say you have been in Akkaya?"

"Some thousand years," he grumbles.

"And you don't know? How can you not know?" I squeak.

He narrows his eyes at me.

"What are you talking about?"

"Give me a piece of paper and something to write with," I tell him.

He doesn't move as he regards me skeptically.

"Come on! Do it!"

Shaking his head at me, he disappears for a second before he returns with a piece of paper and a pencil. He hands them to me and I get to work.

My drawing skills might not be the best, but they get the job done.

"Here," I say as I thrust the paper in front of him. "This is a vinerelle. I can't believe you would not know this, Nykander. It's the ancient emblem of Akkaya."

On the paper, I drew a white and pink flower with a long, thorny stem. Not only do the thorns hurt anyone who dares to pluck it from its home, but the petals are poisonous to everyone, human or mage alike. The books had spoken at length about its history. Because it was such a wild and untamable flower, it had been left unbothered. No one dared touch it, so it had grown in an odd pattern across Akkaya—almost as if it had a mind of its own. The vinerelle is so important in the history of Akkaya that a special edition of the hardbacks had been commissioned with an illustrated vinerelle on the cover. I, of course, own all of them. I had to pay a pretty penny for them, considering only a limited number of sets were printed.

"No, it is not. There is no such thing as the ancient emblem of Akkaya." He immediately dismisses my drawing.

"Yes, it is! You've lived here for so long and you don't know this? It's like the heart of Akkaya! While every other flower and plant has been used in spells and rituals throughout the years, the vinerelle alone has been left unbothered."

He tilts his head, regarding me with a raised brow.

"And how would you know that? You have been here for a few days only."

"Because… Erm…" How do I explain where my knowledge of Akkaya comes from? Especially since most of it has proven to be rather…false. "In my world, there is a series of books revolving around Akkaya. I know everything by heart and I'm telling you, the vinerelle is a flower. This flower." I point to the piece of paper.

Maybe I shouldn't be so overly confident considering this might very well be another false piece of information. But my gut tells me it's not. This is it. This is his damn clue.

He doesn't speak as he considers my words.

"A book series centered around Akkaya?"

"It's how I know about Damien and Jocelyn, and Kuma and the other mages. It's how I know about everything here. Well, almost everything. But I swear the books are real, and this is vinerelle."

Once more, silence descends between us as he stares thoughtfully at my drawing.

"I suppose we could look for this flower," he eventually says.

"Yes. Good call, my friend. See, I am not useless after all," I say as I get closer to him and flutter my lashes.

His only reaction is a roll of his eyes before he takes BonBon in his arms. My brows shoot up in surprise as he motions for me to get PomPom so we can embark on our journey. He must have realized walking too much is strenuous on their tiny bodies and they need to be carried.

Before I can help myself, a huge smile spreads across my face.

He might be bringing about the apocalypse, but he's nice to dogs!

A dreamy sigh escapes me as I hurry to follow after him.

We head east and we keep our eyes open for vinerelle. Fortunately, it's not long before we spot it. Almost like a path, the cluster of flowers leads us uphill into the mountain. There is no walking path, and we do our best to avoid coming into contact with the poisonous petals.

Almost like they had been intentionally planted, the flowers lead farther into a thick forest. The canopy blocks the sunlight. Tall trees surround us from all sides, all covered in thick vines that curl around the branches, some drooping low and creating a swinging haven for the many tree-dwelling creatures. Some monkeys swing from tree to tree, taking great interest in us as they spot us encroaching on their territory.

PomPom, not used to having her authority questioned as the only cute and tiny creature around—save for BonBon, but love does wonders—starts barking incessantly at them.

A couple of monkeys congregate in the tree right above us, watching us with great interest.

"Nykander! Look how cute they are!" Their tails are intertwined, their bodies forming a heart, making the romantic in me swoon. The two monkeys have brown, luxurious fur, their little faces so cute and cuddly.

PomPom, sensing my appreciation for them, lets me know that she will not allow anyone to replace her in my affections as she barks at me.

"Easy, baby. You're still my favorite girl," I coo as I kiss the top of her hair.

Nykander shakes his head at me, and without sparing a glance at the monkeys, he walks ahead. Too bad PomPom is not the only one with attention issues. The monkeys, seeing that Nykander ignores them, decide to teach him a lesson. Something falls from the tree and lands on top of his head.

"What…" He blinks as he brings his hand to his hair, feeling for the object.

My lips tremble with laughter as I watch him scoop a small piece of poop from his hair. And once he realizes that the monkey must have pooped on him, his expression turns thunderous, while mine breaks into laughter.

"Oh my, Nykander!"

The monkeys express their excitement as they jump around and squeal. But just as I'm about to make more fun of Nykander—he deserves it after being such a grump—another little clump of poop falls from the trees.

This time, on my head.

Seeing this, Nykander throws his head back and laughs as he points at me.

I give him my best deadly glare as I take out the little poop and throw it to the ground.

"You…" I point to the monkeys. "I thought we were friends!"

They don't respond to my words, merely releasing more noises that sound an awful lot like laughing.

"Not every creature is your friend, Barbi," Nykander murmurs in amusement.

I walk past him.

"And now we shall move on. We need to get to that artifact, no?" I mutter under my breath.

We continue our journey, following the flowers for another hour or so before Nykander suddenly stops.

"Do you feel this?" He looks around, his nostrils flaring.

"What?" I ask, worried we might be set upon by more demons, or God forbid, more monkeys.

He sets BonBon down and comes closer.

My heart flutters as he stops in front of me. He lowers his head, his breath fanning my cheek.

Breathe, Barbi, breathe!

"What? What is it?" I stammer.

"What is this smell?" He feigns ignorance as he sniffs my hair.

My mouth drops open in shock as I realize what he's doing.

The wretched man!

"Oh, do be quiet. If I smell of poop, you do too," I tell him pointedly, hitting him lightly.

"So? I do not mind it. I have smelled far worse. But you…" His eyes crinkle with amusement.

"I what?"

"You strike me as a spoiled little girl who has been pampered her entire life. I doubt you have experienced much hardship." He smirks.

"I will have you know back home I scoop PomPom's poop every time we go out. I am not a stranger to poop!"

"Is that so?" he drawls.

"It is exactly so. I've had her since she was a little babe. I trained her how to go potty and there's been quite a few times she's had an accident while we were home. Once even on my lap. Poop does not scare me!"

"Understood. You are a poop master."

"What—" I stare at him in shock for a moment before I realize he's just making fun of me.

Nykander is making fun of me instead of scowling at me.

My lashes flutter, emulating the beats of my heart.

A deep blush stains my cheeks as I avert my gaze.

"I was joking, Barbi." He chuckles. "You are surprisingly easy to rile up."

"Well…" I wet my lips. "I suppose being a poop master is better than being a master of nothing," I murmur, my lips quirking up.

He shares the smile, and for a moment, we just gaze at each other.

Did it suddenly get warm in here? I fan my face with my hand.

BonBon's bark breaks the spell as he begs Nykander to swoop him in his arms.

And so we continue our journey.

Yet that moment becomes a precious memory that I tuck away in that part of my brain that will likely never forget him.

As it gets dark, we come across a dead end. The path of the flowers suddenly stops, but there is nothing else around us except an open field.

Nykander's lips snarl in disapproval as he looks around.

"Maybe we missed a path?" I offer.

He grunts.

PomPom struggles in my arms, releasing a loud bark as she jumps to the ground, running around us in a circle. BonBon does, too, and at first, I think they just want to play since they've been in our arms for too long.

A blinding light appears in front of us, making me stumble back.

Nykander is behind me, his arms coming around me so I don't fall.

I don't even get to romanticize the gesture in my mind as four men appear in front of us. They're fully garbed in armor, with two or more weapons sheathed at each of their waists.

"W-what…"

"Welcome to The Sanctuary." One of the men takes a step forward to address us. "My name is Elijah and I am the head guard. What is your purpose for coming here?"

Nykander's cheek twitches as he scans the men from head to toe.

"We're here to meet the High Priestess," I reply.

Elijah nods thoughtfully.

"The Sanctuary is closed to outsiders. You may only enter inside if you have the blessing of the High Priestess."

"And how are we to get it if we can't meet her?" I ask.

He smiles.

"Stay by my side, Barbi," Nykander whispers.

"If you have the blessing of the High Priestess, you will be able to correctly answer three questions. If you answer correctly, you may proceed inside. If you answer incorrectly, you will be turned away and the location of the Sanctuary will change so that you may not find it again."

"What are the questions?" Nykander demands.

"The first question." Another man steps forward as he speaks. "What is long, hard, and covered in ridges?"

My eyes widen at the question.

Nykander tenses by my side.

"I know!" I blurt out.

"Barbi…" he calls my name in a warning tone. "This is not the time for your dirty thoughts."

"What?" I frown at him. " You are the one with the dirty thoughts. I happen to know the answer to the question."

"I will have the answer, female," the man speaks.

I clear my throat.

"The loza. "

Nykander's hand tightens over my arm.

"That is correct." With a nod, the man steps back, and the second man comes forward.

"What is the middle, the beginning, and the end?"

"The river Mazu," I answer immediately.

"That is correct."

"Yes!" I jump up in excitement.

Nykander turns to me, his expression one of shock.

The third man steps forward for the last question.

"What is the way of the soul?"

"P'asala!" I say eagerly.

"That is correct."

"Oh my! I did it, Nykander! See, I am not useless," I cry out, jumping up and down around him. PomPom and BonBon emulate my movements until we're all circling around Nykander, dancing and squealing with joy.

He's frozen on the spot—perhaps unable to believe that I got all of them right. Yet how could I not when they were the same questions Lady Jocelyn got on her initiation as a mage in the books? At least some things are not too different from the books and I can't contain my excitement.

The man retreats, leaving Elijah to address us once more.

"Well done." He inclines his head. "Please, welcome to the Sanctuary." He extends his arm, and a portal appears.

We grab the dogs and walk inside the portal, and in no time, we find ourselves in a different time and space.

The village is full of life, with kids running around and people going about their days. It's almost as if we're in a different world altogether—one that's not plagued by disease or strife.

"When can we meet the High Priestess?" Nykander turns to Elijah to ask.

"The High Priestess will call on you when she is ready to receive you. Until then, please make yourselves at home. My lieutenant will see you to your accommodation," he explains as he introduces us to Jeya, his lieutenant. And with that, the other men disappear from sight.

Nykander makes a sound of disapproval, but he doesn't probe further, probably realizing that we are mere guests in the Sanctuary.

As we walk deeper into the village, the locals glance at us with curiosity, all stopping what they're doing to stare at us.

"I guess you don't get too many newcomers," I joke to Jeya.

"Indeed. We have not had a newcomer in thousands of years."

"Oh," I murmur, surprised.

Nykander is for some reason grumpier than before as he places himself between Jeya and me and gives the poor man a deadly look. His chest rumbles with an unspoken warning, and I have to elbow him to get him to behave.

"Right." Jeya clears his throat. "This is the village plaza, where all the events take place. Over there is the healer's hut. And this way is?—"

"And the High Priestess?" Nykander interrupts him.

"She resides in the valley. But it is prohibited to go there without being called upon first."

"Nykander, be nice," I hiss at him. These people have been so polite and he's being rude.

He glares at me and continues to sulk in that manly, too handsome for his own good way of his.

Jeya continues to tell us more about the village, but I only listen with half an ear as I stare at Nykander's handsome profile. My, but he would be the perfect model for a romance cover. I would buy all the copies in the world and stare at him all day. And if the story in the book had two protagonists named Barbi and Nykander, even better. I could read and stare at him while imagining our happily ever after.

"Here it is. Your accommodation. Please make use of our facilities and consider the village your home for the time being."

Jeya opens the door to a small cabin and invites us to step inside, after which he takes his leave.

The door closes behind us with a thud and we're suddenly alone—plus the dogs.

All I can do is stare at the small space that only has one bed, a desk, two chairs, and a small shelf with a few books. In the back, there is an even smaller toilet and washing basin. There isn't even a shower!

Yet that's not the most glaring thing.

"Nykander… There is only one bed," I mutter in shock as I point toward the bed. It's small, too. "Oh my God!"

All the scenarios I've read about flash into my head and my heart starts beating uncontrollably fast.

"Yes, so?" he asks in a bored tone as he puts down BonBon and his bag with our supplies.

"There is only one bed, Nykander. Don't you know what that means?"

He frowns, staring at me as if I've grown two heads.

"No?"

"Oh my God!" I burst out. PomPom jumps out of my arms, joining BonBon on the floor, while I run around the small room, squeaking in excitement. "It's just like in the books. There is only one bed and we will have to squeeze in it together, which will be a tight squeeze since you are not exactly small. But we will then cuddle and?—"

"You can take the bed. I will take the floor," he interrupts, squashing all my dreams.

"What?"

"I do not…cuddle," he states in a firm tone.

My excitement deflates. "But?—"

"There will be no cuddling, Barbi." He sighs.

"But what if I am cold at night?" I ask, turning to him and making puppy eyes.

"PomPom can warm you up. And if she's not enough, BonBon can join you, too."

"But what if that's not enough either? Will you let me freeze to death?"

He stares at me.

"I do not cuddle," he repeats in a deadpan voice.

I pout.

That's when he shakes his head and turns his back to me.

Damn you, romance novels! You've skewed my standards for love. Finally, I have the opportunity to experience the one-bed trope, and my not-quite-love-interest vehemently disavows cuddling.

Maybe he thinks cuddling will make him less villainous?

"You know, cuddling will not decrease your villainous reputation. Besides, my lips are sealed. I won't tell if you won't," I tell him, motioning with two fingers across my lips to let him know I will keep his secret.

"Barbi," he groans.

"Fine, Mr. Grumpy Pants. I will cuddle with my dogs and you will not be invited. Not even if you are cold. You can freeze to death for all I care, you cuddle-adverse demon!" I say as I stomp to the bed, pulling my dogs next to me and giving him the cold shoulder treatment.

"I will take my chances," his amused voice echoes.