Chapter 22

Our legs were tangled, our breathing working to fall back into its natural rhythm as we lay together in post-coital bliss. Curiosity sparked and my hand inched towards the mark below his ear that looked like an upturned mouth. He sighed as I caressed it. I waited for the warm, throbbing feeling to work through my body. But there was nothing. I may as well have touched his arm for the lack of reaction I felt.

‘Does that feel nice?’ I questioned. He responded with ‘mmm’, his head leaning into my touch.

‘Can you describe it for me?’ I probed. Maybe there was something wrong with me.

‘It feels like … home? You know that tingle of anticipation you have when you’ve been away from home for so long and the knowledge that you’re close. So close. But the more it lingers, the more it’s– there’s something not quite right about it. It has a coldness to it. Almost like I want to go home, to taste the warmth of the sun, but the coldness is leading me away from it. But I don’t want to be away from it. I want to go home –’

He gasped suddenly, pulling away from my hand and looked at me with confusion. Like I was the one keeping him away, and he wanted to get as far away from me as possible.

‘Eliasson? Are you okay?’ I asked, shocked. He’d never looked at me like that before. Like I was an imposter. Like I was anything other than his wife. But if the markings were what I was beginning to think they were, his reaction would make sense. Because what he was describing wasn’t the hum or warmth I’d become accustomed to. And if I wasn’t his true home, it would explain his reaction.

His mark was rejecting me.

‘Valare?’ Qynthia’s voice shook me from my thoughts of this morning with Eliasson.

I swept my eyes around the markets, taking in the carts and pop-up shops strewn along the side of the path I was mindlessly walking down. There were significantly less people in the markets than last time, with many of the farming community vacating Amarald to head back to their homes and ready themselves for the planting season.

After a week of negotiations where, not surprisingly, Slaviya and Xylan had continued to butt heads at every turn, Eliasson had called a hold on meetings.

Despite my discussion with Slaviya, she had completely ignored my words – and me, personally – and continued refusing to accept assistance from the Arlomans despite everyone now realising the threat of the tidal beasts. And she had been very vocal about her disagreement for the Doms to work cohesively together, which had naturally set Xylan off and instigated a majority rules vote.

As per Fyriane customs, when there was a need for a vote of this magnitude, the royals were excused from meetings for two days to contemplate their decision. I had taken the opportunity to invite Qynthia for a stroll down to the markets. I needed her alone to ask about the information I needed. As expected, she was delighted to accept my invitation. Apparently, though, Orlandia also thought we were close enough to tag along. Not ideal. But I couldn’t refuse her company without stirring up suspicions.

‘Sorry, ladies, I got lost in my thoughts,’ I sheepishly responded.

‘Hmm, that’s the fourth time you’ve done that in the space of an hour,’ Orlandia commented with a sideways glance. ‘Is there something on your mind?’

Yes and no. Everything and nothing. Where do I start?

I sighed. ‘Just tired. This hosting thing is more demanding than I expected.’

I tried to shake it off like it was nothing, but the knowing look I received in return was evidence enough that it wasn’t working.

Qynthia steered me towards a back alley, away from the crowds and merchant carts, Orlandia trailed behind us. When we were alone, they turned to face me, standing side-by-side. For a split second, I thought I saw a shimmering glow encompass us before the feeling passed as quickly as it came.

‘What do you need?’ Qynthia demanded. The carefree expression of the affectionate woman I’d come to know was replaced with a solemn, firm look. ‘Don’t bother lying to me. I have an uncanny ability to see through fibs.’

And for some reason, I believed her. She may be the Queen of another Dom and potentially someone to watch out for, but deep down my knowing told me she had our best interests at heart. Through the course of the meetings, she hadn’t spoken up much. But when she did, it was in solidarity of Fyriane as a whole. She wasn’t self-serving – I doubted she even had a selfish bone in her body. She led with empathy and demanded respect in return. I could only give her that respect if I was honest and trusted her.

But trust wasn’t an easy thing for me. Without it, though, I wouldn’t receive the answers I needed, which was seeming to be a bigger risk than I was willing to take. It could be the difference between surviving as a sole ruler or crumbling.

Swallowing the nausea rising in my body, I threw caution to the wind and divulged, ‘I need access to information that will help me understand the tidal beasts. If they’re coming for Arlom, I need to be prepared.’ I omitted asking for information on Wystia and Merlot, choosing to keep my cards close to my chest on that subject. For now, at least. Starting with the tidal beasts was a safe option. It was a well-known, more pressing issue.

Orlandia tilted her head in quiet assessment, while Qynthia nodded understandingly, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. ‘From my time in the archives, I know we have some books on them,’ she began. ‘Whether they have what you require, though, I can’t promise anything. If memory serves, these books are old. Like, old old Valare. I’m not even sure if they’re in the language we speak.’

Well, that may be a problem. But something was better than nothing. I’ll work on the translator later. ‘How fast could you get them to me?’ I resisted the urge to ask exactly where they were and just teleport there.

She reached her hand out to clasp my wrist, squeezing it reassuringly, her eyes telling me she knew what I wanted to do. ‘It depends on how much you’re willing to trust me.’

My self-control kicked in to stop me from moving away from her touch at the insinuation in her eyes. It was as if she knew my first impulse was to teleport to them right away. Which meant she knew about my magic. But how?

My body stilled. ‘What are you insinuating?’ I asked. The only thing moving was my rapidly beating heart.

‘If I may?’ Orlandia interjected.

Qynthia’s eyebrows creased while the two looked at each other. It seemed there was a silent conversation passing between them. Then Qynthia reluctantly nodded.

What the hell was going on?

‘Promise not to freak out?’ Orlandia directed the question at me, and I responded with a confused frown. I couldn’t really promise not to react to something I had no idea about, and I wasn’t going to stand here and pretend I did.

Orlandia straightened her shoulders, looking me dead in the eye as her body shimmered with gold for a moment. I watched as her body transformed into the Nyarellean woman from the markets.

Holy shit. So, I haven’t been imagining things.

‘I knew I knew you from somewhere.’ My words came out as an accusation.

Her smug grin told me she found this whole situation hilarious. ‘I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the baffled look you gave me when we first met,’ she admitted.

Bloody asshole. Just like her brother. ‘How did you do that and why did you do it?’

Orlandia hummed, working out an appropriate response. ‘Have you heard of the Ophiscair Prophecy?’ she asked.

My head reared back in familiarity. The Ophiscair Prophecy was what framed the Solistans religion. The prophecy, they claimed, was the reason I was the one they recognised as their leader. It was the reason for their loyalty. But what did it have to do with the tidal beasts?

For the first time, I wished I’d gone to those religion classes instead of stuffing my face with Iris’ sourdough. Maybe then Orlandia’s question would make a bit more sense.

‘I’ve heard of it, yes,’ I replied stiffly.

‘Do you know what the actual prophecy is?’ she asked, staring at me. She leant towards me so intently that our bodies were a breath away from touching, but it was the intensity of her voice that startled me more.

‘No. I never subscribed to the religion of the Solista Isles. Quite frankly, I think it’s all a crock of shit,’ I sniffed, feeling oddly defensive – not to mention embarrassed – over my lack of knowledge.

Her melodious laugh startled and scared me. ‘You didn’t think it was important to at least understand a prophecy that’s centred around your entire existence?’ She shook her head in disapproval.

Back when my eyes had changed, I hadn’t wanted to further exaggerate how different I was to everyone around me, so I avoided anything that could emphasise it. But maybe that had been a mistake.

‘I just wanted to blend in. Be normal,’ I muttered as it dawned on me that some of the answers I’d been searching for would’ve been found years ago if I had only been willing to listen and stand out.

Orlandia shot Qynthia a knowing look as the Queen closed the distance between us.

‘Do you trust me?’ Qynthia asked, her hands moving to clasp the sides of my face, energy emanating from her.

‘I’m guessing I don’t have a choice if I want the answers I’m looking for.’

Orlandia snickered and Qynthia’s mouth twitched, fighting the smile that wanted to escape. Her fingers pressed to my temples, and I felt a caress in my mind. This didn’t feel like Fuchsia Eyes; this caress had a feminine energy surrounding it. Qynthia’s energy, I realised. Probing but soothing, it searched, requested, for entry into my mind.

‘Let me in, Valare,’ Qynthia murmured.

Sighing in resignation, I allowed her to enter. I was pulled into a familiar setting.

Wystia and Merlot were standing in the heart of the Temple, in front of the statue of the Goddess. They were surrounded by people, undoubtedly Solistans.

‘There will be many that will come and many that will go. You must do everything in your power to leave them better than they arrived. Fyriane requires your allegiance in paving the way for what is to come. We need magic wielders across the continent, strong and ready to defend.

‘Teach your young the prophecy no matter what happens in the future. They will arrive when the time is right to lead and unite Fyriane once again. You must do everything in your power to ensure the path is lit for them. To show them the way. Do we have your pledges to carry out what has been asked of you?’ Wystia asked,

A resounding, ‘Yes, Your Highness,’ swept through the room. The Solistans bent down on one knee before reciting the Ophiscair Prophecy.

‘Opposing stages of the moon brings extraordinary gifts.

One for her, another for him.

On these nights, Fyriane will awake, a new destiny starts to shape.

Within the union lies myriad answers, a True Infinite bond to rule the masses.

Unlock this bond and there it shall be; knowledge finds those who are meant to see.

True Infinites, hand in hand, will rise above to take a stand.

Lime green and fuchsia meet, ready to take their seat.’

Wystia grabbed Merlot’s hand, immediately teleporting them to a different place.

Here the layout was like the Temple, however, the walls were carved from rock and the floor was covered in orange sand. A statue of Merlot was now behind the couple, and they were surrounded by people with burnt orange and pale pink eyes.

Wystia and Merlot repeated the prophecy, asking for allegiance to carry out the duties. When they received confirmation from the others present, the couple looked at one another, tears welling in their eyes.

‘I love you,’ Wystia said in an anguished whisper.

‘I love you, my darling. In this life and the next. Don’t cry for us, for we will always be. My True Infinite. This is our path, our journey. It is our children’s and their children’s path now. Rest easy knowing we’ve done everything in our power to save them. And when they come, they, too, will save Fyriane.’ Merlot combed his hands through Wystia’s hair, comforting her as tears streamed down his own face.

Wystia nodded, leaning into him to press her lips to his for what was clearly the last time. ‘For our family.’

‘Until we meet again, my love. For this, I am sure.’

Suddenly, I was watching two scenes happening. Wystia returned to the Temple, placing her hands on the statue, and Merlot did the same on the other statue. As if they both knew when to start, they opened their eyes and spoke in unison.

‘For the doers, the defenders, and the dreamers. To the devoted, the divisive, and the divine. For the True Infinite, and the continent of Fyriane. Protect our family.’

They kissed the middle fingers of one hand and pressed them to their third eye, their other hand remaining on the statues. A green light surrounded Wystia, while a pink light surrounded Merlot, and their powers drained into the respective statues. As the flow started to dwindle, their bodies were pulled into their statues. A glowing, lilac shield was propelled out of the statues with so much power it rippled further and further away, out of eyeshot.

My eyes flew open. I stumbled away from Qynthia in shock and braced my hands on my thighs. I took in short, sharp breaths. What in the hell did I just witness?

Is this the reason the Solistan’s saw me as their rightful heir? There’s one sentence mentioning lime green. One. And their conclusion is that it has to be about me, simply because of my eye colour? They’re living on a different planet. Hell, a different universe. This isn’t about me. They’ve lost their damn minds.

I looked up to see both Qynthia and Orlandia with one leg bent, hands over their hearts and head down in reverence. This isn’t happening. This is a bad dream. A bad dream where people have lost their fucking minds. Wait until I wake up and tell Mer about this.

‘My Queen, I pledge you my loyalty. I am at your disposal,’ they said in unison. My eyes bulged at the sight of them. Seeing them kneel for me was too much. Not to mention it was completely misplaced.

I rushed forward, pulling them up to stand in front of me. ‘That isn’t necessary. Truly. I’m just Valare. No need for formalities. We are all equals here,’ I spluttered.

Qynthia gave me a pitiful smile. ‘This may take some time for you to get used to. Take all the time you need, the Dom of Nyarelle will be taken care of for you, until you’re ready.’

Until I’m ready? What was there to be ready for? The prophecy said a True Infinite must unite to rule Fyriane. Hell, I don’t even know what a True Infinite is, let alone have one.

‘I think this is all being blown out of proportion. That thing you just showed me,’ I exclaimed, waving my hands around like a lunatic. ‘Completely open to interpretation. Couldn’t be any more ambiguous if you tried.’

‘But –’ Qynthia started.

‘And my interpretation?’ I cut in, ‘Absolutely nothing to do with me.’

Orlandia shook her head in disbelief, arms crossed. She sighed, side-eyeing Qynthia.

I huffed. ‘I just wanted to know about the tidal beasts,’ I muttered. ‘How did you do that, though? I mean, get into my head like that?’ I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

‘We are psychic mages,’ Qynthia stated simply, like it was common knowledge.

‘Right, of course you are,’ I muttered. ‘And I suspect Mr Fuchsia Eyes is a psychic mage as well?’ I asked.

They probably think I’m ridiculous. You can imagine my surprise when they burst out in hysterics. It took a while for them to recover from their laughter, shock and understanding slowly dawning on their faces.

‘Mr Fuchsia Eyes?’ Orlandia blurted out between cackles.

‘Yeah, the man that does what you just did. Activating a Lull like that.’ I waved my hands in between us in a dismal attempt to demonstrate a Lull. How they understood what I said was beyond me. But apparently, they were picking up what I was trying to put down.

Qynthia’s mouth dropped open. ‘Yes. He is a psychic mage. And that wasn’t the Lull, Valare. I can’t access that. Only the most powerful True Infinite mages can meet in a Lull. I was just pushing a memory onto you. But maybe you should ask him these questions …’

She looked away, suddenly finding the ground very interesting.

‘Ask him? I don’t even know him. So far he has just shown up randomly and walked into my mind whenever the hell he wants!’ Exasperation filled my voice at that suggestion.

‘Right. Yes, you’re right. Hard to ask someone you haven’t met.’ Qynthia scratched her head nervously, still staring at the ground. Orlandia also avoided my eyes.

Judging by their reactions, I’d hazard a guess to say there was a good chance they knew who this man was. And suddenly it clicked.

‘Unless I have met him,’ I probed, my knowing suddenly kicking in.

I was sure I knew who Mr Fuchsia Eyes was.

My eyes landed on Orlandia, waiting for her to speak on the matter, confirm my suspicions. She met my eyes and merely raised her hands as if to say, ‘I’m not getting involved’.

‘Well technically you have. In the Lull. Maybe you should activate it again and talk to him,’ suggested Qynthia. Her answer was too quick for her ignorance to be believable, and her suggestion was most definitely trying to deter me from probing any further.

My head had started to ache, and I decided to leave aside my suspicion on Fuchsia Eyes as it was clear I wouldn’t get anywhere with them.

‘So, the tidal beasts. I can have the books deposited to you within a couple of weeks. Unless you would prefer to teleport to the Queendom with me. In that case, we can have them within the hour.’ Qynthia ruthlessly pulled our conversation back to the earlier topic before I could ask more of them.

Yes. Right. The tidal beasts. ‘A couple of weeks will suffice. Please throw in some books about the damn Royal Marks as well. I’ve got some questions about those, too.’

Qynthia threw me a knowing look but didn’t push the subject.

‘Does my sister believe in this madness?’ I had to ask even though I knew it likely wouldn’t get me where I needed. It had become clear the two of them seemed closer than I originally realised.

Qynthia raised her eyebrow, waiting for me to expand.

‘Does my sister believe in this prophecy?’ I explained.

‘Your sister is concerned with the direction that best fits her purpose,’ Qynthia replied. Cryptic. But also, not wrong. She was protecting her, though Goddess knows why.

‘You said I could trust you. You also pledged your loyalty to me, and now you’re being cryptic,’ I challenged. I may not believe in this prophecy, but it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t shamelessly exploit it when it suits my needs.

‘Being a psychic mage gives one access to … intimate thoughts and feelings of others. We live by a code of ethics to ensure we practice our magic with integrity. Your sister has her own agenda. I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know. If her plans were detrimental to what needs to happen, I would speak up. But the one thing you should know, Valare, is there is an art to what is told and what is seen. Your sister has her own path and her own lessons to learn. And for you? Knowledge finds those who are meant to see. Keep pushing to see, and you will find the way.’

I let out a frustrated breath, ‘You’re not going to give me any more information, are you?’

She pressed her lips into a thin line. ‘I’m sorry, my Queen. We already pushed the boundaries showing you the memory. We need you to make sure this wasn’t for nothing.’

I flinched, uncomfortable with another Dom’s ruler calling me her Queen.

I could sense that she was conflicted and held a flicker of unease, so she wasn’t lying. She may have crossed a line to provide me with insight, but I still had questions I wanted answers to. It wasn’t fair.

I assessed the two women, taking in their uncompromising stances. This wasn’t a conversation I was going to win today.

I plastered on a smile, showing I was letting things go. ‘Well, it’s a lovely day in Amarald. I wouldn’t want to miss the last few hours of sunshine hanging out in a dingy alley. Shall we?’

I may have been smiling on the outside. But inside? A mixture of anxiety and rage was building as I began to suspect what I would need to do next.

I’d tried to live my life like an ostrich. Putting my head in the sand. Ignoring the unsubtle gazes of people staring at my lime green eyes. The whispers of awe as I passed by. Ignorance is bliss, the saying goes. And I believed it. Revelled in the thought that, if I didn’t give energy to the whispers, the stares, the expectations of a sham prophecy, it would cease to exist.

But I never stopped to wonder, what happens when ignorance doesn’t equal bliss? When it turns its head and bites you in the ass, refusing to be ignored.

The answer to that question, was now jarringly apparent. Ignoring things exposes you. Leaves you floundering. Vulnerable. And has left me with the expectations of not only the Solistans, but now people from Marlyst and Nyarelle.

It was clear I now faced the formidable task of confronting the direction of my life. A life that, I had refused to admit, was a mask of delusions and denial.

The catch? I have only myself to blame. I put myself in this position.

And only I have the power to change it.