I chuckled. “Gods know I don’t feel it.”
Laughter rolled into his words as he said, “I get your meaning, and it’s an astute observation. In my humble opinion, the answer is yes. We may be immortal, Nyleeria, but that doesn’t mean we can’t die, meaning time will catch us all in the end. The only difference between mortal and immortal is that Lady Time cannot work intandem with Father Death to claim us. But make no mistake, her scepter is just as powerful as his scythe; regardless of how we meet our makers.”
“Umm,” I mused, taking in his viewpoint. “I’m not sure I would’ve ever thought immortals were touched by time, but I guess all of our sundials tick down.”
“They do. Although, you’re already ahead of the game. Many immortals still haven’t grasped that concept, believing life truly infinite.”
“Do you think it makes a difference if they realize it or not?”
“I do.”
“Why?”
“For me, I no longer take a single day for granted. I appreciate every day Lady Time gifts me.”
“No longer?” I said, head tilting a fraction. “Was there a time when that wasn’t true?”
His eyes darkened as he held my gaze. “Yes. There was.”
“What changed?”
“Why don’t we have a seat, Nyleeria?” There was a gravitas to his words that I’d never heard before; a sadness, almost.
Sitting on the sun-heated stone steps, Caius hesitated a moment before speaking, and I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to hear what came next.
“Given how you’ve been treated in the past, I think it’s important for me to be honest with you—even if it makes you see me differently.”
I nodded slowly, eyes narrowing a fraction as I wondered just where this was going.
“Believe it or not,” he started, “my past involves you in a way. I was going to wait until you were a little more settled, but there’s irony in you bringing up the concept of time, and I don’t believe in coincidence. In fact, I believe that word is made for those who don’t fully understand the universe’s powers. But, I digress.”
He shook his head as if forcing himself to focus on what hewanted to share with me before continuing. “A little over two decades ago, the delicate balance of Lumnara began seeing… disturbances—both in the human lands and the fae realm.”
My brows furrowed. “What do you mean bydisturbances?”
“Well, for one, the seasons became sporadic.” He gestured around us as he said, “these very grounds were dusted in snow, while glaciers thawed enough in the Winter Court to form lakes at their feet.”
I stared at him in disbelief for a moment before scanning our surroundings, my mind having a difficult time imagining the epitome of summer covered in white—even if just a dusting. “When?” I found myself asking aloud as I took in the sights and sounds around us, the summer sun deliciously warm against my skin as we sat next to each other.
“On the eleventh day of the fourth month—twenty-one years ago.”
I froze.
Heart in my throat, I slowly swiveled my head back to him, searching his features for any indication he was kidding. I found none. “That’s…” I swallowed. “That’s?—”
“Your birthday,” he finished for me.
Unbidden, Rackna’s words came back to me.“You Spark. You save all.”
Then, my conversation with Endymion. How others seem to revere me—the spark.
I stood and paced, the memory of Thaddeus explaining the spark’s origin running on repeat.
“Nyleeria?”
I put a hand up to Caius, needing to process this information. To collect my thoughts. To pull at the threads that—until then—were seemingly separate.
Still pacing, I got to the end of my track and turned around, still putting the pieces together.
