All color drains from my face as Stormfall stretches his wings wide across the table, cawing in anger.
“To what end?” I demand, consumed by anger and disgust.
“As we mentioned last night, to prolong the life of their magical beings,” Holis replies for his brother, “a terrible ritual summoning that can harness the life of one and transfer it to another.”
“That’s…”
I shake my head as a violent pull of rage devours my thoughts.
How?
How are the Leviathans allowed to grace our Kingdom? How are they allowed to stand so smugly under my castle home and walk about freely?
Politics, Lord Daniel’s hard voice reminds me again.
Fuck that!
“Was it stopped?” I turn swiftly to the King, “did the council find a resolve? Stop them?”
“Yes,” the King nods quietly, blue eyes darting across my face.
“Until recently,” Desmond states to the group before looking at his father, “my men have reported human young going missing in the dead of night over the past two years. The disappearances have been sporadic and random.”
The King nods his head to his son solemnly, already aware of the information.
Ancients.
That knowledge alone makes me want to recant my previous promise of not traveling into Livyatan. I want to ride steady past the Riverlands and defend the human young however I can. Summoning should not be used for such unnatural needs. The mere thought of it is abhorrent. It’s the type of dark summoning that I stumble upon in Disce’s libraries- the text is hidden from the masses for a reason.
Where are the damn Ancients?
Why aren’t they intervening? Why aren’t they stopping this madness before it continues any farther?
Stormfall turns his head, his yellow eyes flashing an angry gold right back at me.
“You’ve slept for too long, oldboy,” I narrow my gaze on the Ancient, “wake them. Wake them all.Now.”
Hirovale and Storm extend their wings across the table, the Bird of Ash bowing his head before the gold of the Ancient disappears from his eyes. I clench my fists on the table in furor, unable to comprehend how something so malicious can take place in this Old World.
“You speak to the beast as if you speak to the Ancient, Alex,” the King murmurs.
“I do,” I scowl, thinking of Hirovale.
“Ancients.”
King Zander sits back in his chair, hand finding his temple again. Holis and Mana both grin from their seats, their heads nodding quietly as they look at me in approval.
“The Leviathans know about me,” I tell the King on a deep breath, “they knew to come looking for Storm and I in the Bulwark Plains, and Prince Isham referred to me as the Human Reborn. He also called me Hirovale’s champion last night in open jest…”
My eyes hold Zander’s hard. “Is there any way they were made aware of the text before I found it? Aware of the words and what they speak of?”
King Zander considers my question, as does the rest of the table, but I already know the answer. There’s just too many coincidences when it comes to the Leviathans, too much hinted knowledge that they know about everything going on. They’re aware in some sort of capacity, buthowthey know of me and Storm and how much they’ve learned of the text remains unanswered.
“The Leviathans no doubt have their own seers and summoners that deal in the mystics,” the King considers, “as I’m sure Pyre does as well. We cannot discard the possibility that they have stumbled upon something in the same way Elena has.”
“They’ve stumbled onto something, alright,” I grumble, “Prince Isham referred to Holis and Mana as followers of Hirovale. How could he know that? How is he aware of the Ancient and his followers or the text’s reference ofme?”
Because it did reference me, of that much I am certain.
