58. Danica

Danica

58

A s I step into the massive room, I feel like I've walked onto the set of Gods Gone Wild . The jaw-dropping glitz makes the Sun Court look like child's play. The celestial decorators really went all out here—it's part renegade architect's magnum opus, part cosmic exhibit. Every glint and glimmer here hollers "opulence" loud enough to make the most pampered royals blush.

Seraphina's hand is a lifeline as we wade through this tsunami of splendor. Crystals compete for attention with their prismatic tango, lighting up every inch of the place. You know the ones I'm talking about—they're not content, just being fabulous. They're throwing a full-on luminescent rave.

Under our feet, the marble gleams with a polish so fierce it's nearly blinding. Heck, I half-expect to find cherubs detailing the corners. Look up, and the ceiling dissolves into stars, which brings about a minor existential crisis—am I inside or somehow space-walking?

"This is just—" The words die on my tongue as my gaze snags on another ethereal presence—a male. He is breathtaking, with chestnut locks cascading to his shoulders and eyes so luminous they could be forged from molten gold. He commands attention at the chamber's far end, an object cradled in his grasp. Towering, sculpted, the very essence of divinity, his wings are pristine, the hue of freshly fallen snow.

Seraphina nudges me on, her voice a cocktail of pride and a pep talk. "Come, Dani, meet Jophiel," she encourages, nudging me from trepidation to determination.

I shuffle forward, my feet barely obeying me. Jophiel has this vibe that's half 'wisdom of everything' and half 'cool uncle who knows all the best jokes.' His good looks are timeless. His aura is less intimidating and more friendly than I expected.

"Dani," he rings out the word—it's epic yet somehow tinged with 'let's grab a coffee.'

Jophiel awaits, his expression all anticipation as I navigate forward, wading into the sun-strobe display of light and warmth.

"I trust Seraphina has already informed you of the pressing reason for your unceremonious arrival. We had to step in lest your beloved—your 'mate,' if that's the term you prefer—commit an act so astoundingly foolish we feared the worst."

At the mention of Rhyland, defensiveness spikes within me, and I am ready to defend my vampire against an onslaught of sanctimony. They may hold dominion over the realm of light, but I will not let him disparage the man who lives in the shadow of my heart.

"He did what was necessary. He felt he had no other option," I defend him fiercely.

"Your love tethers you to darkness. It is a dangerous bond," Jophiel warns, his words a celestial breeze that could snuff out stars.

"Then consider it tethered," I counter, the bite in my response undiluted, a symphony of conviction for Rhyland's worth.

The tension between us crackles like static in the air—a celestial being grappling with a mortal choice.

"Then you must seek the means to make sure you have completed the Soul-Tie," Jophiel drops the reference casually, as though I'm already well-versed in the subject matter.

"What exactly is a Soul-Tie?" I ask.

I'm completely in the dark about this divine stranger's identity or how he fits into this cosmic puzzle.

Apparently attuned to my unspoken questions, Seraphina chimes in: "Jophiel is one of Elysium's most trusted confidants. He is an angel renowned for his profound wisdom and boundless compassion."

"A Soul-Tie is precisely what it sounds like. It is an act of willingly giving and tying your soul to another, and they, in turn, offer and tie theirs to you. It shields you, safeguarding your soul from being seized by another."

His gaze locks with mine as the pieces snap together in my mind. He's referring to the horrifying possibility of Moretemis stealing my soul or, even more unthinkable, Rhyland's.

"Okay, but how? What do I need to do? I thought I already accomplished that by bonding with him. I sensed it at that moment—my soul entwining with his." The words tumble out in rapid fire.

"I—We—are not well versed in vampire blood-bonding. A Soul-Tie is far more enduring and intricate," Jophiel states with unyielding authority, his words resonating with absolute conviction.

Isn't that the same damn thing? I'm so confused.

Seraphina faces me, her expression conveying the gravity of our situation. "You must seek the one who holds the knowledge of this ancient rite, someone to guide you through the process. This practice was lost when the realms were sealed away from one another. I yearn to give you the answers you need, dear heart, but alas, I do not possess them."

Realization dawns on me like a divine epiphany. This is precisely why Moretemis has been able to plunder souls with impunity—because they remain unclaimed, ripe for the picking.

"Then why didn't my father tie his soul to my mother's?" I blurt out, desperate for answers.

"Elysium sought to achieve precisely that," Jophiel explains with firm resolve. "However, he was unable to find the means to complete it before your mother's untimely demise. This is why we need you to see it through to prevent such a tragedy from happening again."

I stand there, shock and confusion coursing through me. If my parents had performed this soul-tie , my mother's soul would have been protected, safe from the fate that claimed her. The realization hits me like a punch to the gut, and a deep sense of loss washes over me. But amidst the grief, a fierce determination takes root. I can't let the same happen to Rhyland. I won't lose him, not to Moretemis. Whatever it takes, I'll ensure our souls are bound, forever intertwined, so that we'll never be torn apart.

"Very well." Jophiel clears his throat, signifying the shift in focus. "Let's proceed to the heart of the matter for which we've beckoned you here. We are running out of time."

The implications of that statement elude me. The longer I linger here, the more I feel like a disobedient child, sneaking out and dreading the inevitable moment when the parental figure catches on to my misdeeds.

Talk about divine grounding.

He opens his hands to reveal a diamond-studded box, exquisite and captivating in its craftsmanship. This box, no doubt, carries something significant within it.

"Be ever mindful that Rhyland's path of shadows may yet be your undoing, Dani. Until we know for sure that your souls are, in fact, tied, hold fast to your path and cradle your luminescence."

A final warning.

As the diamond-studded box opens with an almost celestial whisper, Jophiel presents the Atherite stone—a crystal that seems to throb with the very essence of his realm.

My breath catches, stolen momentarily by the pure grandeur before me. The stone's facets are mesmerizing, each appearing to cradle swirling galaxies within their depths, a dance of cosmic light and shadow playing across its surfaces.

"This is the legacy to which you were born," Jophiel proclaims, his voice harmonizing with the essence of the universe. "The Atherite stone harbors formidable powers—forces of creation and annihilation intertwined in its heart."

"What does it do?" I can't help but ask, curiosity laced with awe as I reach out tentatively toward the stone.

My fingers barely graze its surface, but even that feather-light contact sends a shiver of warmth through me. The stone feels almost alive, pulsating with an energy that resonates at the same frequency as my heartbeat.

"The Atherite embodies the very essence of Atheria—light and creation," he explains with a gravity that seems to make the air around us thrum with importance. "It can heal, cleanse, and bring clarity where there is darkness. For you, Dani, it will resonate with your gifts, allowing you to access the light within and manifest it in ways the realms have yet to witness. It is not just a symbol of power but a token of your destiny."

I hold the stone in my hand, admiring its impossibly beautiful appearance—how it seems to drink in the light around it and refract it into a million dancing colors. But when I think this moment can't become more awe-striking, the unexpected happens: the stone breaks free from the confines of my palm, levitating with a mind of its own.

It hovers for a heartbeat, a suspended spectacle of sparkling wonder before it moves—deliberate and sure—toward my crown. The stone gently embeds itself, finding a home among the ornate metalwork as if it was always meant to be a part of me.

My head buzzes, alive with a new power that feels alien yet familiar. Tingling sensations race down my spine, spreading to the rest of my body as the Atherite syncs with my essence.

"And you," he asserts with a grave tone that bears the weight of eternal truths, "are now protected, untouchable, and possibly even transcend mortality."

Immortal —the word echoes in my skull with a reverberation that might as well be a bass drop at Lucian's nightclub.

"So you mean… I can't die?" The question tumbles out of me before I can stop it, and I instantly feel like a newbie at a supernatural convention.

Jophiel's reply is patient—a lesson in cosmic custodianship. "Mortality's embrace remains, ever looming, for the stone's judgment is not ours to command—it chooses when, how, whom it aids, and indeed if it chooses at all."

My confusion is clear as I try to understand the idea of an inanimate object that decides, judges, and discerns. It's not just a ‘get out of death free' card.

"This stone is imbued with the breath of the ancient gods, entwined with the very fabric of existence itself. It is not merely a tool to be wielded but a divine entity with its own will. It is no gatekeeper to immortality but a sovereign of restoration, guided by a wisdom far beyond your mortal grasp."

Well, alrighty then. We're dealing with a choosy stone with a sense of self—or at least a discerning taste in life paths. Noted!

I take a deep breath, steadying my nerves before finally voicing the question that's been burning inside me. "I need to know why I have been given this task—why Elysium himself couldn't defeat Moretemis?"

"Danica, Elysium's strength and his light are vast but not infinite. As he is bound by the very fabric of Atheria and its need for balance, there are limits to what he can do against Moretemis."

"But still," I press on, frustration lacing my voice, "he is a God. How is it possible that Moretemis, banished and shadowed, could be beyond his reach?"

Jophiel's gaze, as warm and expansive as the sunlit heavens, meets mine. There is sorrow there and the weight of unspoken eternity. "Danica, if there were a way for Elysium to vanquish Moretemis himself, he would have gladly done so. But the balance of our realms, the intricate fabric of power that binds everything, prevents him—us—from acting directly against him."

I become defensive, the frustration gnawing at the edges of my resolve. "So the realms get to stay 'balanced' while my life gets turned upside down? What kind of balance is that?"

He smiles, a gesture both melancholy and tender. "Balance does not mean an absence of strife. The shadows exist as a counterpart to light. We are bound by cosmic laws, restrictions that Moretemis relentlessly seeks to exploit. His banishment and locking of the realms were the extent of Elysium's influence. But the bastard's playing dirty, trashing the rules and tipping the scales—just like the old gods and prophecies said he would."

A laugh bubbles out, all sharp edges and irony. Here's Mr. Holiness himself, slinging slang like some street corner prophet, and here I am, yanked into this celestial tug-of-war.

Universe, your sense of fairness is seriously whack.

"Danica," he says, his voice resonating with the undercurrent of creation itself, "your destiny is not merely chosen. It is forged by who you are, by the light you carry within. You are born of two worlds, and this unique lineage is the key to transcending the limitations that bind Moretemis and Elysium."

I shake my head, disbelief shadowing my thoughts. "And if I can't do it? If this power I'm born with isn't enough?"

He approaches—the light of his being casting no shadow, an awe-inspiring reality I struggle to accept. "It will be enough, for it must be. There has never been another like you, Dani. You embody the hope of all seven realms, the promise of renewal. Your journey will awaken all the power that slumbers within you. When you collect the stones and face Moretemis, it will be as an equal—light to his darkness."