The ground beneath us trembles as Wodthos channels his strength into me. “The north will burn,” he rumbles, understanding my intention without words.
“A prison for those who would destroy what I love.” I say in return.
My blood spreads across the battlefield like glowing rivers, carving new boundaries into the fabric of Ashonera. I can feel the northern plains of Midaeleia transforming, the land becoming a red wasteland of sand. Mountains rise from nothing,their peaks sharp as blades against the sky, crafting a border. Only one path that leads into it, because eventually not all who live there will have had that path chosen for them. The sun itself becomes thick with heat that will scorch the skin.
My blood wraps around all of those who have risen against me, and Atlas eyes widen as he realizes what is happening.
With a flick of my wrist, I send a wave of blood-tinged water crashing into him, “You chose this path,” I tell him, each word heavy as the last of my magic drains out of me. “Now walk it.”
The transformation continues, my power flowing outward in pulsing waves. I feel myself changing too- something essential draining away from each heartbeat.
“Drahenå,” Kya says urgently, her flames dancing around us protectively. “Something’s changing. He's trying to follow the path here now, and if you do this …”
“I will no longer be as I was. But neither will I die. Do what you must to protect this land, Kya.”
Together, our combined power sweeps across the battlefield, lifting Atlas and his followers into the air. They struggle against the invisible force, but it’s futile. With a gesture that costs me the last of my strength, I cast them northward, banishing them to a new land.
My knees buckle, and I collapse to the mud. The dagger falls from my nerveless fingers. Around me, the battle has stopped, my people staring in awe and confusion at what they’ve witnessed.
The darkness claims me as something bright casts a light, bright and unlike my own, but I can’t focus on it. I know one day I will return, but for now I will remain in the rings of the sun. A forgotten memory, a whispered legend.
Because to be known is to be wanted. And to be wanted is to bring destruction.
fifteen
Strawberry Moon of The Lunar Year 3503
200 Lunar Years After The Great War
“Your freckles really look like the stars in the sky, Tala.” I tell Natala, the Queen of Midaeliea. I study her face across the table, noting how the afternoon lightcatches the constellation of tiny marks scattered across her nose and cheeks.
I feel the familiar weight of my mortal form – this body I’ve inhabited for decades now. My hair no longer shows the silver at the ends it once did, the strands just cobalt. I run a hand across my neck, marred by two freckles instead of one. This life I now walk was to experience life as one of my children does. The salt-tinged breeze caresses my skin, carrying the scent of the Great Sea below us.Mygreat sea.
Thepitgonibirds dive through the air, catching sunlight as they soar down to snatch tiny fish from the water’s surface. Their movements are precise and graceful.
Below us my daughter runs across the sand, her fifteenth lunar year making her both child and woman. Carnaxa, I named her. And what a joy she is. A miracle I never thought possible. Her laughter carries up to us on the wind, the sound of it is pure joy. Her cerulean hair shining bright, and I smile at the freckles she has that match mine – except for three.
The young guard assigned to her tries to maintain his formal posture, but I see how his expression shifts from irritation to delight as she splashes him, water droplets catching the sunlight like diamonds.
“That’s what people tell me,” Tala replies, bringing my attention back to her. “I used to hate them when I was younger, but they are growing on me.” She takes a sip of tea from the blue glass in front of her.
I will not be here long. Day by day, something is changing inside of me … something that will change everything. I will go back to my original name, Drahenå instead of Iviloan—the name they call me now when I was born this life.
Natala looks at me more carefully, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you okay? Is Carnaxa?”
Her perception startles me from my thoughts. I try to smile, but I know it doesn’t reach my eyes. My glass clinks against the porcelain saucer, the sound sharp. “Carnaxa will be fine, but things are changing, Tala. For good this time.”
I reach across the table and take her hand in mine. My skin feels cooler than it should be, almost like the water I once commanded with such ease. The water or the chaos that I’ll soon return to.
“There’s something important I need to discuss with you, and I also need you to hold on to something for me, until Carnaxa needs it.”
I feel fear rising within me – not for myself, but for what comes next. For the burden I must place on my daughter. For the battle that looms on the horizon, set in motion centuries ago when I fled from Khaysus with his flame magic hidden within me.
Tala squeezes my hand, her warmth seeping into my increasingly cold flesh. A disease of sorts, because I can’t call myself home like I have for so many other souls in Ashonera. This world has become something so much more than I expected. But now, it’s time …
“Ivy, you are scaring me. What is wrong?”
I release her hand reluctantly and look up at the sun, feeling its warmth on my face. Once I could have drawn the tides up to greet it, could have created rainbows in the spray with nothing but a thought. Now I feel the light passing through me, as if I’m becoming nothing but a shell.
