The wind tugged at the pages, turning several until she brought her hand down over another drawing of Jökull in Sunnëva’s arms, bleeding out on the frozen steps of his castle.
“They killed him in his home, and his power passed on to Sunnëva. Enraged by the loss, she used her new magic to take away life instead of giving it, wiping out the eastern clans. Many came from far and wide to witness Jökull’s funeral. She built a great pyre for her husband. Then before the eyes of thousands, she cast aside her immortality and walked into the flames, ending her life.” Dyna blinked back the sting in her eyes. “For she chose to be with him in death than not at all.”
She sighed and closed the book.
Cassiel tilted his head. “It is only a story.”
“I know, but it’s sad and romantic.”
He snorted. “Romantic? The fool relinquished his wings. I would never do that.”
Dyna rolled her eyes. “I suppose it’s not a tale you’d appreciate.”
“I did not say that. Besides, you missed the best part.”
She smiled. “I knew you’d heard of it.”
His mouth hitched in a smirk. “Of course. Everyone in Azure knows the story. Some even consider it history. But I read more books on the tale when I came across it during my research on Mount Ida. They are connected.”
“What?” She flipped through the pages. “I don’t think I’ve read that part yet.”
“The story continues that the pyre burned all night,” Cassiel said. “And when the fires died at dawn, from the ashes, they found two seeds. But their children didn’t plant the seeds. They feared the fruit it would bear.”
“Were the seeds ever planted?”
“Yes. Two thousand years later, by Jökull’s descendant. They were right to fear it, for the seeds grew into two majestic trees which bore fruit that could grant anyone with his frightful power. The trees were taken and hidden on an island, lost to the ages until—” Cassiel paused and leaned in close, “—Captain Ida discovered a Sacred Scroll that revealed its location.”
A soft gasp left her lips.
“He ate the fruit and became so invincible he could have wrought destruction on the world if he so wished. But because the magic had inadvertently given the island life, it somehow trapped him there, or so the legend goes.”
Dyna sat back in her seat and stared at him. She hadn’t known that part of Mount Ida’s legend. There were so many versions of the story, she assumed most of them were merely tall tales.
“God of Urn, do you think it’s true?”
“That is the thing about stories. They change over the years with each retelling, and by the end, no one can truly know which part was true.”
“I mean the part of immortality.”
He shook his head. “Immortality is for the gods. No being within our world is immortal.”
“Not even the fae?”
“It could be possible for them to live nearly forever, but they cannot fully escape death. It can find them through iron, curse, or wound.”
But what if the story of Jökull and his power was real? Her only concern had been reaching the island, not what or who may be on it.
“Cassiel, what if Captain Ida is alive?”
“He will defend his treasures.” Cassiel nodded at her horror. “Do not dwell on it. We will concern ourselves with the possibility when we get there.”
She grinned.
“What?”
“You saidwhennotif. Does that mean you’re confident I’ll survive the journey there?”
Cassiel rested his elbow on the table, propping his chin on a fist as he gave her a faint smile. “You have surprised me at every turn, Dynalya. I expect you will continue to do so.”
