His words made sense. More sense than I wanted them to.
“That doesn’t mean they don’t exist,” I pushed back, despite it not being long ago that I had doubted being one, as Wye claimed me to be. Which told me everything I needed to know. That sleeping with him had changed everything, mainly how desperate I was to be his someone special. And that in itself just made me feel sad.
Because even if I had been his Siren, it still left the question of heartache open. It still left me wondering if he cared about me as a person, or if it meant that fate had ensured he had no choice in the matter. That I could have been literally anyone, and he would still have classed me as being his. Honestly, that realization was more depressing than anything else I had learned today. Yet despite this, I still found myself arguing,
“You don’t know that he’s wrong.”
“No, but I do know that if you’re not his Siren and you have already spent the night in his bed, then things will get fuckedup pretty quickly.” I flinched at this, especially seeing as he had already guessed that Wye and I had already crossed a line. And from the sounds of it, a pretty big one at that.
“Okay, you need to explain that part.”
“It’s like I told you before, it’s forbidden for our kind to be with a mortal,” he said, making every muscle in my body tense before I asked,
“Does that mean…”
“Punishment, Eliza. Even for someone as powerful as Oblivion, as he still answers to the King of Kings, and Lord Draven is not a King you want to piss off.” I shuddered at the thought, now terrified for a whole new reason.
“But he seemed so sure,” I muttered, mostly to myself.
“There is a way to test it,” he said then, shocking me out of my turbulent thoughts.
“How?” I asked, foolishly feeling hope bloom within me once more.
“That relic I told you, the one Walder wants. There is a reason behind it.”
“Walder, is that the guy who has this safe haven?” I asked focusing on the name.
“Tarik Walder, yes, he is the one who rules a place called the Vault. But he is also the Enforcer that rules the Midwest and someone who has been searching for a Siren for a long time, along with others, no doubt,” he replied, which then led me to more important questions,
“So, this Relic, is that what he believes will help him find her?” Bo nodded and told me,
“It is said to react to a Siren’s essence, speaks to their ancient soul, so to speak… no doubt one of the reasons Oblivion believes you are one is because of your magic.” I frowned at that, already opening my mouth, ready to argue, but I stopped when he gave me a pointed look.
“Okay, so yeah, clearly something is going on with me…” I scanned the length of him and muttered,
“Case in point.” As I couldn’t deny that I had brought him here. Now, how exactly I had done it still remained to be seen. But what if Bo was right? What if Oblivion had gotten it into his head that I was one of the Lost Sirens because I possessed some magical abilities?
“So, this Relic, did you find it?” At this, he smirked and held his hand out in front of me, but there was nothing there.
“Erh, is it like invisible or something, because I don’t think that’s going to fly with this Walder guy,” I said, making Bo groan,
“Jeez, give it time, I am concentrating here,” he complained, and before I could think of a witty comeback, something started to appear in his hand.
“Is that it… a mirror?” I asked, as it wasn’t exactly what I had been expecting, although this wasn’t an Indiana Jones movie, so I guess my expertise on relics was pretty limited.
Either way, it was definitely smaller than I had expected, though there was nothing insignificant about it. The object caught the light in a way that made it seem to reflect more than it should have. The surface shifted subtly beneath the glow as if it were not simply glass, but something far older.
Its frame was intricate, etched with delicate patterns that curled and wove into one another with careful intention. The craftsmanship unmistakably ancient, as though untouched by time. There was something almost divine about it. Something that made it feel less like an object and more like a symbol. As though it carried meaning far beyond its form.
“The Mirror of Veritas,” Bo said quietly, his gaze flicking briefly toward it before returning to me. The name settled within me in a way that felt heavier than it should have. Stirring something faint and distant in my memory, something I hadn’t thought about in years.
Veritas.
Truth.
But wait… how did I know that?
My eyes drifted back to it, drawn, despite myself, to the surface. To the way it seemed to hold more than a reflection, as though it wasn’t interested in what you looked like, only in what you were at your core.
