“A little.” I swallowed hard, not really sure what to think. I didn’t know this man, and even though he was a Fate—an Ancient—I didn’t know if I could trust him. But… “If mortals can change, then so can gods.”
“You truly believe that?” Lirian asked.
“I do,” I said without hesitation. People could change. I believed in that—I’d seen it. “And you must believe that, too, since he’s here.”
Lirian neither confirmed nor denied that, which was really comforting.
Glancing at Thorne, I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d also been like Holland or if he’d been one of the ten. I decided against asking, though. What would it matter at this point?
Holland studied me for several moments before casting his gaze forward. “We all stand here today because we ensured we could no longer suffer the same fate as our brethren.”
My brows lifted. “I’m hoping you will explain that further.”
“All of us released embers of our essences to become what we are today, what others know as the Arae.” Lirian tilted his chin back. “You can look at our eyes to see that. They do not carry the gold of life nor the crimson and shadows of death.”
“Our purpose is to ensure the balance.” Holland set his glass aside. “And that those who went to ground never wake up.”
But they had.
Lirian sighed, folding his arms over his broad chest. “You were right earlier when you said an Ancient is capable of destroying a realm. They can do so with one hand and create a new one with the other. Those of us who became the Arae can no longer harness that type of power. But you were also wrong. You can.”
My jaw hit the floor.
“Eventually,” Holland tacked on. “You arelikeus. Like those you saw Awaken today. Which is why you were drawn there.”
“That’s…” I shook my head, my heart thudding. “You’re saying I’m a…” I almost couldn’t bring myself to say it. “A Fate?”
“I said you arelikeus,” he stressed. “You are blood and bone, able to wield power over life and death. And as you grow stronger and older, as your powers mature, I suspect you will develop more abilities.”
“More abilities?” Curiosity rose. “Like what?”
“That’s neither here nor there,” Holland said, picking up the carafe and pouring himself more of the strangely colored liquid.
“But—”
“You will have to live long enough for that to happen,” Lirian snapped.
I closed my mouth.
Holland’s stare moved to the other Ancient, and he said, “Poppy, you’re like an Ancient born, which was impossible until you.”
“None of this makes any sense.” Running my fingers over the buttons on the robe, I gripped the sash I’d left undone and began twisting it. I remembered what Nektas had told me, and it sounded like he’d left a whole lot out. “I know there was some sort of cosmic restart when Seraphena Ascended to the true Primal of Life, but only once a female descendant was born and had Ascended.”
Holland idly ran a finger along the rim of his glass while Thorne remained quiet beside him. “That is true.”
“So, that doesn’t explain how I’m like an Ancient born.”
“What Nektas told you was partially correct,” Holland shared, and a shiver curled down my spine at the reminder of just how much they knew and saw. “You are the result of a…perfect storm of several variables that alone are one thing but combined become something else entirely.”
“That explains nothing.”
“You are descended from Seraphena, who was born of the bloodline of the first mortal,” Holland said.
“Seriously?” I whispered.
“He wouldn’t have said it if he wasn’t,” Lirian retorted, voice thin with a distinctive note of impatience. “But you were also born of a demis—a false god, yes, but a tragically powerful one. That’s a variable. Another is that you were also born of a direct descendant of two Primals, one being the true Primal of Life and another who is a Primal of Death—second only to his Queen and Kolis in terms of power.”
“A third variable is that you are a second daughter,” Lirian added.
