“The past tense is smote. And no.” His gaze drifts back to Kaia. Lingers there. “Differentimportant.”
Torric shifts. I feel his heat flare, protective. “What do you mean?”
The God doesn’t answer immediately. Just watches Kaia guide another wave of Eds through the Gate. Her wings pulse. The light shifts.
“Do you know why your magic always felt wrong, Finn?”
I don’t know what to say to that.
Because yes. Fuck yes, I know. I’ve always known something was off. Always felt like my chaos was working overtime, straining against something I couldn’t see or understand. Everyone told me I was unstable. Dangerous. Broken.
“It was doing its job,” the God says quietly. “The whole time.”
“What job?”
He turns to face me fully. The others press closer. Listening.
“When Solveig used the Heart of Eternity to send her daughter through time, the magic was… imprecise. Chaotic.” A faint smile. “Time magic always is. Kaia could have landed anywhere. Any realm. Any century. Scattered across infinity like smoke in wind.”
My chest is tight. My magic is writhing.
“But she didn’t,” I manage.
“No. She didn’t.” His ancient eyes hold mine. “Because something caught her. Gave her a direction. A destination. An anchor point to pull her through safely.”
“What…” I can barely get the word out. “What caught her?”
The God smiles. Gentle. Almost paternal.
“You did.”
The world stops.
“You were young. Eight, perhaps. Maybe ten. Your chaos magic had just awakened, wild and uncontrolled andreaching.”He glances at Kaia again. “It reached across time. Across realms. Found a six-year-old girl hurtling through the void with nowhere to land.”
“I don’t… I don’t understand.”
“Your magic gave her a way out, Finn. Before you knew what chaos was. Before you knew her name. Your power reached into the space between worlds and saidhere — come here — I’ve got you.”
I can’t breathe.
“And she did,” the God continues. “She landed safely. In the right place. The right time. A realm where she could grow up, where she could become who she needed to be. Because your magic pulled her through.”
Torric’s hand lands on my shoulder. Warm. Grounding.
I barely feel it.
“But chaos magic doesn’t let go easily,” the God says. “Once it finds something, it holds on. Your power stayed connected to her across years. Always reaching. Always searching for the girl it had saved.”
“The strain,” I whisper. “The wrongness—”
“Was your magic stretched thin. Tethered to a Valkyrie you’d never met, waiting for the day she’d finally appear.”
The tears come before I can stop them.
All those years.
All those years of being told I was broken. Unstable. Dangerous. A liability.
