The air was redolent with a complex blend of scents: cardamom, cumin, and roasted cloves intertwined with the steam of slow-cooked meats and the yeasty aroma of fresh bread.
The atmosphere wrapped around Idan, embedding itself in his soul and offering a quiet, comforting welcome.
Zephyr and Raquel moved with a fluid, domestic synchronicity, serving steaming cups of tea and thick coffee alongside Sacran honey cakes.
The pastries dripped with a translucent amber nectar glaze and boasted a royal jelly custard center.
‘From my hives in the northern pasture,’ Zephyr noted, his chest swelling with pride.
Idan studied the veteran and got struck by a pang of longing for the life Zephyr built. He closed his eyes for a beat, imagining a similar future.
Fokk, he’d give his heart and soul for a slice of this paradise, with Sheba.
Minutes later, while his woman chatted with Raquel, Zephyr seated himself across from Ki’Remi, Issa, and the brothers, joining them in a huddle.
Mirage sat by, listening and taking holo notes.
Zephyr narrowed his eyes, his focus alternating between Idan and Molan. ‘Which of you two claims seniority? Who is older?’
Idan raised his chin. ‘The truth remains elusive, Sire. When Molan’s mother plummeted through the rift, she entered atemporal well; we cannot discern if she surrendered one year or thirty to the void. As for my own exile to Pegasi, I endured a gravity well that claimed perhaps two decades. We remain adrift in chronology unless we find a time magus to untangle the knots.’
‘De nada,’ the General replied, waving a hand. ‘The specifics of the clock matter little. When I scrutinize your features, I see the similar bridge of the nose, the same set of the jaw. But more than that, I recognize the menace and the unrelenting drive behind your gaze. You both possess a fervent, identical hunger for autonomy. From whom is the question?’
‘Indeed,’ Molan muttered. ‘We come to you with an urgent request, Sir.’
The brothers mapped out their confrontations with Sulfiqar and the three-month ultimatum he issued.
Zephyr listened, his expression darkening until he let out a short scoff.
‘You should concern yourself less with his wrath and more with his sense of theater,’ the former general warned. ‘The Divine Immortal does not crawl through the shadows or enact his vengeance in silence. When he rises, he will orchestrate a spectacle grander than any myth in the history of the sector.’
He leaned back, his eyes flickering with disdain. ‘He will announce his presence with trumpets, thunder, and a pageantry of fire, for he always commences with a farcical display.’
Ki’Remi shook his head, his hands folded tight. ‘I mean no offense to your Sacran heritage, but Sivania is a realm plagued by too many deities with narcissistic egos.’
Zephyr’s mouth twitched into a grimace. Their attitudes surpass mere conceit. Most gods in Sacra are incomprehensibly and irrefutably arrogant. When crossed, they unleash tempests more furious than any storms you’ve weathered. Their tantrums are an eradication-level event. Be warned: immortal vanity is aforce of nature. You do not combat it. You endure it, and if the fates are kind, you outwit it.’
Idan arched a brow, his focus narrowing. ‘Then help us craft a snare. Do you possess any intel that gives us leverage over him?’
Zephyr tipped his head back against the divan, his golden eyes fixed on the ceiling as he delved into the archives of his memory.
All of a sudden, he lurched forward, wagging a weathered finger in the air.
‘An old lore exists, buried under the dust of time. If I remember it clearly, it states that the only method to neutralize a God Emperor like Sulfiqar is to bind him with theObsidian Ligatures of the Cursed Realm, also known as theChains of the Old Sacran King Saitoni.’
‘The rightful ruler, the one Sulfiqar deposed eons ago?’ Issa asked her father.
‘The same. Legend states these shackles hold Saitoni in an eternal, agonizing stasis.’
The General explained that only theDraquisOrder, a clandestine society of Paladian dragon-shifter guardians and shadow kings, retained the coordinates to the Old King’s hidden sepulcher.
‘The universe believes the secretive Dragon Order extinct, but they endure as master jewelers and weapon-smiths, concealing their immortality in plain sight, appearing in humaniform. They are the only artisans capable of forging the diamond masks required to shield your signatures from Sulfiqar’s all-seeing gaze should you decide to fetch those chainswhereverthefokkthey are.’
‘Where do we locate theDraquis?’ Molan rasped.
‘In Rhesia. The capital city of Enia.’
Idan leaned forward, his brow furrowed. ‘If they are as reclusive as you suggest, how do we initiate contact?’
