Tethys smiled, tucking her son to the nape of her neck. It wasn’t easy, settling on a name, but Tethys knew there was nothing more fitting. Of all the mortal men throughout Venia’s lifetime, there was one more extraordinary than the rest. A general, who led the first Venians through the darkness and chaos of their ancient world, was cherished by all, honored in every home, and never forgotten.
There is strength in a name, power in its meaning. Her son’s namesake was a beacon of hope amidst a terrified, tumultuous realm. Just as her golden haired boy had been, and would continue to be.
“His name is Aryx,” she replied.
† † †
Later, Tethys dismissed the wet nurse and the governess permanently. She would feed the babe directly from her own breast and soothe his midnight wails in her own arms.
He was the greatest love of her life, and she cherished those dark hours when it felt as if they were the only two beings left on the continent, maybe even in the universe.
She was exhausted and still bleeding from his birth. Her abdomen, once hard as a rock, now sagged and rolled in ways it hadn’t before.
She was an immortal child, the goddess of dawn, the eastern queen.
But more importantly she was a woman.
The stretch marks sketched over her hips were a permanent reminder of the strength she held.
They were her battle scars.
Her magic never manifested, that was true, but in this moment as she looked upon her infant son, she felt more powerful than any of her siblings. More powerful than the primordials before them. She was infinite. She was the sky and the earth and the seas.
She was a mother.
Chapter 72
Aweek after Aryx’s birth, Altair returned with a grim expression. Tethys sat in the library, gently rocking the sleeping infant, her eyes unfocused on the page of an open book. Her brother promised he’d return with news of Araes as quickly as he could, but with each day passed, her fear of the worst turned palpable in the all too stagnant air.
Time slowed and quickened all at once as she worked through the growing pains of her new normal. Aryx was a fragile thing, with fresh, pink skin and little golden eyes. The midwives reassured her that the nature of motherhood would snap into place, but just as her magic, Tethys still awaited the flood of knowledge. Every hour brought new challenges, and while she met them head on, the voice in the back of her mind, the one antagonizing her always, was a touch too loud.
“Brother,” she said, struggling from her seat. “Tell me you have good news.”
Altair’s mouth thinned across his stone chipped jawand Tethys’s heart sank to her stomach.
“I can’t say whether it’s good or bad, but no one has seen him for days. His commanding officer, Captain Haidee, worries he’s deserted,”
“He would never,” Tethys snipped, swaying her arms to soothe the stirring babe.
“I know, and in truth, she doesn’t think that’s what happened. But sister, even Ophis’s shades come back empty handed. I’m sorry,” Altair replied, placing a gentle palm on his nephew’s silken head. “It’s as if he simply left.”
“What of his mother and sister? Are they alright?”
“Ophis tells me they’re fine. Shaken from the war, but their home was one of the few still standing. They haven’t seen him either, not since he returned from the border.”
Candlelight flickered along the floor to ceiling bookcases, casting wraith-like shadows that clawed at the leather bindings filling each shelf. Tethys knew down to her core that Araes wouldn’t desert. Of all things, the lieutenant was loyal. He’d rather suffer in silent agony than abandon his post.
“Something isn’t right. What if Vorthal somehow got ahold of him? Or maybe, just like those children, he slipped into the Rift. He could be out there with no way home,” Tethys said.
“That’s not possible. We re-secured the gateway with the prism key. Just as you said, the cracks are sealed between our realms.” Altair flashed her a sympathetic look. “We might need to accept that Araes isn’t as we believed him to be.”
Tethys shook her head, pacing the study. Her legs were weak beneath the thin sleeping gown she wore. She hadn’t bothered dressing, or bathing for that matter. Not when nights combined with days in scattered spouts of sleep.
“What’s the status of Venia’s border? Is it secure?” she asked, fixing her gaze out the windows. An evening storm rolled in with the tide that quivered the palm fronds andblurred the crystalline glass with a curtain of rainfall. The air hummed between the immortals. Altair knew why she asked, and so did she.
“For the moment yes, but the Venian and Canissaen councils have yet to establish an addendum to the treaties in place. It’s still fairly volatile in the east, and the military is nearly decimated,” he replied, sinking into a leather armchair. “The Ursaean and Aquilaean armies also have thinned from this war. The whole damned continent still burns.”
“I must go home, Altair. My people need me,” she said. What Tethys truly meant was Araes neededher. She would search for him until the final tick of time ran out, if she had to. Altair’s news was concerning, but some piece of her clung to the seed of hope taking root. He was missing, not dead. There had been no corpse. No bones. Just as she’d brought the Venian children home, she’d too bring him back to her. Back to his son.
