On the ground, there aren’t children and villagers in linen. They’re Mages of Nyxthos. Yet, there aren’t any demons. One soldier drives their blade into a fallen Mage. A crackle of electricityfills the air, like when Rurik wove lightning into his strikes. Except that there’s no outpouring of power.
The only reaction is silence and a flare of light from within the soldier’s crystal. One by one, the Mages are killed in the same way. Then, something even more terrible happens. A soldier pulls a different kind of crystal from a pouch on her belt and places it on the ground.
Kaelith and I watch as we feel every bit of magic drained from the area. Anything that was touched by Nyxthos dies. The duskthorn trees turn to ash just like Isola did to the Burning One in the third trial. The ground goes from a rich brown to gray. The grass crumbles in the wind. Even the mist that is everywhere here fades. The clouds disappear, and for the first time in eighty years, the full power of the sun’s harsh rays fall on Dunloch’s soil, except that it’s not the same rich soil any longer. It’s dead ground.
I turn to Kaelith, who continues to stare at the gray, dead ground covered in bodies, and he says, “These are the Hunters. Four Hunters against a hundred Mages and their demons, and all of them would be Lost. But Fiona Thorne, they will not die. Their souls will not return to the Void as they should, to rest until they are ready to be reborn. The Hunters will trap and use them to fight and destroy even more. The land itself will be Lost to them, all its life and power will be taken from it, never to return.”
He turns to me then, his eyes blazing deep blue. His body shines like a beacon in the night. “I could heal this land, but I cannot return these souls to the Void. They are beyond my reach. Don’tyou yearn to free them? Aren’t you disgusted by the prison they’re trapped within?”
I look at the Hunters and feel my eyes drawn to the crystals embedded in their breastplates. It’s as Kaelith says, and just like when I was looking for my cloak, I feel compelled to go to them, to take those crystals in my hand. There’s no sound, but I don’t need it. I know where they are. A piece of me, of my very soul, clings to them.
“This is what you want from me? To free the souls that the Hunters take?”
Kaelith floats toward me and presses his hand against my cheek. “This, and so much more. I do not need you to be Nyxthos’s champion, though. I need you to be you, the human we created, whom we nurtured, whom we raised to help in a time when everything we love hangs by a thread. Do you still want vengeance for your parents’ deaths?”
I look from Kaelith to the Hunters, to the crystals that hold so many souls, and I feel them crying, begging for release. They’ve fought for lifetimes to save this world, even if they didn’t understand, and now… now, they’ll never find the rest they’ve earned.
“You used me. You’re still using me.”
“Yes. Azric is too. Rhaskar and Ainslee and Rhion, and even sweet Darian were as well. But don’t you want to help them? Are they really using you if you want to help? Don’t you want to save those souls? Don’t you want to save this land? There was no other way to create the woman you’ve become without your parents dying. They both wanted nothing more than to have you,to have a sweet, loving girl they could dote on. They wanted to keep you safe. While they may not have been able to see you grow up as your parents, they’ve been given the chance to watch you ever since. They are so very proud of their sweet little Asha.”
I stare into those deep blue eyes, and I can feel them. I can feel my parents’ souls. I remember them, not the man and woman who are in this memory, but their touches and whispered words as I went to sleep.
I remember the way my mother ran her hand through my hair as I slept beside her. I remember my father holding my hand every night, making sure that no matter what I dreamed of, I would know he was beside me.
Bedtime stories of princesses and princes falling in love. Giddiness as my mother danced with me while my father played a tin whistle. Sunshine on my back while we picked wildflowers. I wore a soft dress with only a few holes in it.
I still can’t see my parents’ faces in my memories, but I can remember everything else. Even their voices.
And now I hear them. “Asha,” my father whispers in my mind, “you’ve become so wonderful. I’d give anything to see you again, but it was worth it to know you, to hold you. My baby girl. Save them. Teach them to smile like you taught me.”
I can’t feel the tears that run down my cheeks. My father can see me. He knows me. He loves me.
Then I hear my mother, and it breaks me. “Sweetheart, I’ve wanted to say this for so long. For so many years, I’ve watched you turn into a woman that any mother would be proud of. Iregret nothing that happened. I hate that I couldn’t hold you when you were hurt and the world was hard, but you became stronger because of it. A woman’s life is hard, though. There will always be difficulties, and I know you’ll overcome them. I will always love you, Asha, and know that we’ll always be right here watching. You’ll never be alone. You were never Lost. We always knew exactly where you were, and we have always loved you.”
“I love you, too,” I whisper, but they’re gone already, and I’m staring at Kaelith again.
He wipes the tears from my cheeks, but they keep coming. “Don’t fall off the cliff, Asha. You’ve never been Lost until now, but it’s up to you to decide if you want to be Found. Suffering is better than death, isn’t it?”
Suddenly, everything changes. I’m not floating over a battlefield. I’m not looking into a god’s eyes or experiencing a world as the Hunters ravage it.
No, I’m staring at a dagger as Jorren swings it at my throat.
Chapter 56
“You cannot go to her, Prince. Not this time.”
“She’s going to die!”
“If you go there, you will both die. You must trust her as much as she trusts you.”
“And if she dies?”
“Then we are already doomed.”
~Conversations between Vyran the Black and the Prince of Bones
Fiona
