I never knew I could feel so much in a single moment. So much pain, so much anger, so much lo—
No, not that. Never that.
I quivered, fighting the urge to shake him awake and scream at him. Curse him to the deepest pit of the Abyss for doing this to me. He had no right.
Somehow, I managed to rein in my raging emotions. Like I always managed.
I finished bandaging him, tucked the blankets around him without looking at his face, tidied up the medical supplies, and washed my hands and face in the bathroom basin, every movement decisive and quick.
I was numb. So overwhelmed and exhausted that part of my mind had disconnected. Tomorrow. I would deal with all of this tomorrow.
Bane wound around my ankles with a worried mew as I returned to the main room. I picked him up, his small body warm in my arms as I collapsed into one of the comfy armchairs in front of the fireplace. Night had fallen once more, but I doubted I would find much sleep. As I sat there, stirring the fire back to life with the poker, I realized my cheeks were wet with tears.
Another saying flashed through my mind:The gods do not cry.But then, I had not been Baradaz, the Lady of Light, the Star Queen, for a very long time.
I buried my face in my hands andwept.
CHAPTER
5
THE SUNDERING WARS
Ten years earlier, forty years after Yggdrasil’s fall
Rada
The Ten must speak as one on this,” the king said, his gaze fixed on the charred ruin of the Great Tree, visible through the room’s expansive glass front. “The war has raged for too many years, exacting too grand a toll, to allow any hint of dissent among us. When we pass the sentence, it must be unanimous.”
His broad back straight and unyielding, my husband hid his desperation well. I’d been Aramaz’s wife and queen for millennia, though. He could not hide the tension in every line of his powerful body, nor the brittleness beneath his confident tone. Not from me.
Fragments of Light danced on the golden strands of the king’s long, silken hair and the intricate embroidery of his white tunic, drawn by their master’s presence. I averted my eyes toward the table in front of me, my own powers carefully subdued. I knew only too well what haunting sight held Aramaz’s attention.
Once, Lyrheim’s ethereal stone buildings had shone with an otherworldly glow, the silvery leaves of the Great Tree dancing in the wind, casting mesmerizing reflections on every surface. The city,aptly named Home of Light, had adorned the colossal tree trunk that towered over it like a shimmering necklace of pearls.
These days, the once majestic Yggdrasil, which we called the Tree, stood as a grim reminder of its former glory, the smell of ashes lingering in the air even decades after its destruction. A testament to our failure.Myfailure.
The King’s Council had convened in the same elegant chamber at the center of the Temple of Order as it had for countless ages. Our fellow Aurea were seated at the grand round table that dominated the room. Intricate carvings, hewn from the pale golden wood of Yggdrasil itself, decorated the walls, depicting our heroic deeds over the millennia.
We could speak freely without fear of eavesdroppers, as Aramaz had decreed that only the Ten were allowed to be present for this conversation. For the first time in centuries, the Temple of Order was devoid of mortal acolytes, and even our Anima, the shapeshifting spirits the Allfather had created to serve us, had been commanded to leave.“Is there truly no other way?” Khiraz, the Goddess of Mercy, cried out. Strands of Air, her aspect, stirred at her agitation. The dozen layers of her dress, made from a shimmering silvery-white material as pale as her skin, rustled faintly in the breeze. “We have imprisoned the Fallen One once before, deep below, amid Yggdrasil’s roots. And for many years, there was peace.”
The Aurea of Air was still determined to sway our brethren’s minds. One could not fault Khiraz for her tenacity.
My magic raged against my harsh grip on it in response, urging me to react to her plea. Yet I knew I could not. I trailed a finger over the smooth edge of the table, the cool surface grounding me; inlaid with intricate mosaics, it depicted the five aspects the Aurea governed.
Before me lay the seal of Aramaz and myself, mocking me with itsradiant beauty. Gleaming golden jewels formed the rays of the king’s sun, emanating from the center and stretching to the mosaic’s edges. Above, the silvery lights of my stars sparkled against a backdrop of vibrant sapphire blue.
I remembered a time when six colors had adorned this table, when gems so dark they seemed to absorb the light swathed the space opposite the king and queen’s in twirling shadows. Back then, the King’s Council had eleven members, not ten.
Now, Air reigned there. Enlial, with their great, white-feathered wings neatly folded, wrapped one arm around Khiraz in comfort. While they were no bonded pair, the two Aurea of Air were close, considering each other siblings, made by the Allfather at the same time.
“Yggdrasil is no more.” M’tar’s voice rumbled with the finality of falling rocks from his place to the left. “Keeping the Fallen One captive in the temple is draining all our powers. Chaos eats at his bonds even now, weakening them.” The dark-skinned Aurea of Earth shook his head, his proud face resolute. He had never been fond of sentimentalities. “We cannot hold him forever.”
“But what if we strip him of his magic?” Khiraz pleaded once more, the air around her churning with the intensity of her emotions. It would be easy to dismiss her among the mightier of our kind, but I knew there were many forms of strength. Her gentle demeanor masked a resilience that could withstand any storm. Without her fierce intervention, this sentencing would have taken place a tenday ago, right after the Fallen One’s capture.
“Don’t be a fool,” Sha’am, the Aurea of Fire, interrupted, his meaty hand slamming down on the depiction of writhing flames before him so violently I feared for the table. His bronze eyes, the same shade as his silken tunic, its fabric taut over the bulging muscles ofhis arms, glowed with barely contained anger. “We emerged victorious in this war solely because of the treachery of Masir the Faithless. This time, to our advantage, it is true. But the Fallen One’s armies are still roaming the lands. His most powerful lieutenants remain alive and free. The Butcher of Kirai rules the south from a throne made of the bones of his enemies. And that poison-fanged bitch Evanna and her winged beasts have turned the Argentien Forest into a place of nightmares.”
So much had been lost in this endless war, and we all knew that our victory had been a stroke of luck. If Masir, one of the powerful Anima serving as the Fallen One’s lieutenants, had not unexpectedly betrayed him in exchange for a pardon from the Ten, the outcome of this conflict would have been far grimmer.
