“You’ll have to let me win too. I’m a shit swimmer.”
“You should have seen the seaborn. They could go the whole length without coming up for air. Their lung capacity is astonishing.”
Your upturned lips folded into a frown, and I worried my mention of the seaborn may have triggered some unpleasant memory.
“Whatever happened to Ashur?” you asked. I’d not spoken of him or Seneser since your return. Nor had I mentioned the events that had transpired in the mine.
“He helped Lucian and I transport the Imperium soldiers here, then returned to collect your father’s corpse. He intended to return them to the sunborn’s ancestral lands. I’m afraid we’ve lost touch since then.”
“Where’s that?”
“Egypt, mainly, and some surrounding territories as well, though the Order of Angels doesn’t recognize the sunborn claim, since they are thought to be extinct.”
“That must mean I’m Egyptian?”
“Yes, or thereabouts. It’s difficult to pinpoint exactly where your human lineage began.”
“Huh,” you mused at that bit of self-discovery. “What do you know about the sunborn?”
Most of the stories had been told to me by Lena in my younger years. “They were one of the most powerful tribes in antiquity. They worshipped the sun god, known as Ra in Egypt and Sol in Rome. Like most deities, he has many names.”
“Why aren’t the sunborn mentioned in Mater’s books?”
“The sunborn were the only tribe to lead a successful revolt against the Order of Angels and were punished severely for it. Their sunborn bodies were destroyed in horrific ways and their souls banished to the under realms, including Bastet, the sun god’s own Grigori handmaiden. When their rebellion was quelled, the Order of Angels attempted to erase their name from history, including their many sacred texts. For a long time, it was a crime to even mention the sunborn name.”
“And what about the sun god himself?”
“He was punished for orchestrating the rebellion. It is said that Bastet brought his angelic spirit to the earthen realm and scattered it among the living to protect him from the angels’ wrath.”
“Is that…” you began. “Does that mean he’s dead?”
“They say his spirit lives on in his people’s descendants, the children of Ra. That’sifthe stories are true.”
You mulled that over for a moment, your facile mind going over every detail. “Is that why Ashur dressed me the way he did?”
“Yes, he must have suspected your royal lineage. One of the titles given to Egyptian pharaohs is Son of Ra. Mortals blessed by divinity.”
I rowed our boat, appreciating the strain on my muscles and the contemplative quiet that had descended upon us. The only sounds were the lapping of the waves against the boat’s hull and your cat’s purring.
“Do the sunborn have any powers?”
You were likely still grieving the loss of your bloodborn abilities, but I didn’t want to give you false hope.
“Theirs is the gift of rule, either by birth or through influence. Otherwise, my knowledge of the sunborn is limited. Lucian might be able to provide more answers than me.”
“Do you believe in the prophecy of Parousia?” you asked as your gaze centered on me. If I didn’t know better, I’d believe you still had your seductive powers.
“I believe that a prophecy can bring allies to the table,” I said carefully. “And the sunborn bloodline is arguably the most royal of us all.”
You nodded. “It doesn’t matter if a story is true or not. So long as people believe it, they will follow.”
I weighed my response, not wanting to disparage your faith when you probably needed it the most. “That is the basis for most religions.”
Your eyes narrowed, deliberating. Despite my caution, it seemed you were already plotting a revolution. I didn’t care to think about the risks involved.
I considered saying more, but your eyes drifted shut as you leaned back to soak up the sun. Your lips curved into a contented smile that could be mistaken for happiness. But I suspected it was thoughts of vengeance that had brought on this momentary peace.
We disembarkedat a crescent-shaped cove with a black-sand beach and a dock for unloading. I assisted you off the boat and watched as you stretched your arms and surveyed the scenery. You discarded your sandals and walked to where the waves lapped at the shore. Minutes passed by, and you simply enjoyed the sensation of your feet slowly sinking into the earth. You reached down and fisted a clump of sand, then sifted through it with your fingers. You presented me with a pearl-white shell with intricate concentric ridges, similar to how you used to find me treasures when you were a child.
