He kicks his feet out and leans back in the chair. “Long ago?—”
“Shouldn’t you start with ‘Once upon a time’?” I cut off, raising a brow.
He rubs his temples. “It’s rude to interrupt your elders.”
“You’re well past elder age,” I jab.
He levels me with a glare. “Do you wish for me to continue?”
“Yes, fine.” I cross my arms loosely and let one of my shoulders rest against the wall.
“It’s not ‘once upon a time’ because the story was never finished. So, I’ll say it again: long ago, a war between what you call the gods and the creatures they call elves revealed a terrible truth. The gods were no longer immortal. Since the elvish army was larger, the gods withdrew and then reformed.”
I tap my boot on the floor with an impatient beat. “They don’t sound like gods to me.”
“Ignorant,” he grumbles, running his hand down his face. “Wise creatures take refuge when the storm is too strong. Fools stand out in the open. The gods had no other option. You’d do the same.”
“I’d rather fight till the end, but whatever,” I shrug, waving a dismissive hand.
“That’s a hero’s story, boy, but what if only the enemy survived to tell your tale? I doubt they would write you as a hero who fought to the end.”
I hate to admit it, but… “Point made. I stand corrected. So, these gods and whatever the heck an elf is are at war; the gods run. Then what?”
“Like you, gods seek vengeance.”
“I seek justice.” Freedom for my brother, a life away from Selene’s fucked-up family.
“Some say it is the same,” he counters. “They came here to build an army, but humans were like paper; they could hold great wonders written within their pages, but they were so fragile. The gods needed to create something stronger. They infused their power into the humans, and over the centuries, you were born.”
“Me?” I push my spine into the icy wall. “You’re suggesting I’m the descendant of a god.”
“You?” He tips his head back and chuckles. “No.” He slaps his knee. “You’re like a mangy mutt compared to a demigod. You have a god’smagic, not their blood.”
“What’s the difference?” I bark.
“Meet a demigod on the battlefield and find out.”
“Demigods aren’t real. They’re myths.”
His laughter dies. “You’re in for a rude awakening. Myths are like dried flowers pressed between old pages. But a flower came from a seed, boy. Hands plant seeds. There is truth in every myth.”
He pats his thigh. “As I was saying, wars between the new creatures and the humans grew vastly. So in secret, two of the gods tried to correct their mistake. They created a new creature; they didn’t know this, but things forged with love are no less deserving of being called a child.
“One created a book with endless pages, but it was the other god who altered the book; she took a piece of her magic and fused it into the book, then she forged the first rune.”
“The Vitalis,” I declare. The book that will free my brother from Everett’s magic.
“Wow, he knows some history. Color me surprised.”
“I was told runes are nothing more than mage magic.”
“Lies spread faster than truths. Unfortunately, people believe them quickly. Here I am, telling you the facts, yet you narrow your eyes at me like I’m the delusional one.”
“Color me skeptical.”
“Spread your legs and accept it.”
“Fuck you.”
