He looked back to Esmyra, whose eyes were darting back and forth between the two of them suspiciously.
“At one point, averylong time ago. But it never felt like it was where I belonged.” He paused, a long silence stretching between the three of them. “Now, we know you’ve heard of our Divine, Asyris, but are you familiar with Malya?”
Esmyra’s head tilted to the side. “Can’t say I am.”
“Of course, you aren’t. The gods are the cause of it. They erased Malya from history, just as they tried to do with us. But Malya’s demise was long before even we were betrayed,” Syrena admitted. “Asyris wasn’t always the Divine. There were once two. For light cannot rule without the dark.”
Esmyra blinked. “Like the sea.”
She’s too fucking smart.
“That’s a good way to view it,” Syrena admitted, loathing that she was putting the pieces together so easily. “The light and the dark. The surface and the abyss. It’s quite similar.”
“Indeed,” Azarian interrupted. “Malya once had a loyal following that wasn’t subject to any one kingdom. And that was where witches were bred.”
“And here I thought witches were just myths and legends,” Esmyra said.
“All legends hold truth.” Syrena crossed her arms.
Azarian gave a dip of his chin before turning back to face Esmyra. “Indeed. Malya was picky regarding her followers. We’d have to work through several tasks to show our loyalty to her and her dark magic, essentially abandoning our kingdom’s ruling god in servitude to her. Those who passed were granted a subtle power. Small bits of magicmimicking Malya’s, but nowhere near as powerful. Those who didn’t pass… well, let’s just say they never left the Underrealm.”
“The Underrealm?” Esmyra raised a brow.
Syrena let out a low cackle. “Malya was the Goddess of Death, dear sister. She resided in the Underrealm and watched over the souls that were sent there.”
Esmyra’s eyes narrowed as her focus slowly returned to Azarian. It sent a spark of irritation through Syrena, noting that her sister was too smart for her own good. Kaelypso’s knowledge certainly wasn’t ideal either. She never wanted to tell her of Malya, or Azarian’s connection to the old goddess, but if Esmyra was to go along with their plans, she knew they had to give hersomething.
“So how did you get your power, Azarian?” Esmyra asked with a raised brow.
“Offering our souls to Malya occurred during a sacrificial rite beneath her moon. In today’s world, we believe it is referred to as the Blood Moon. The ritual would rid our bodies of its original magic, of our fragile flesh and bones.”
“But you were human,” Esmyra interjected. “You didn’t have magic to begin with.”
Azarian gave her a coy grin. “Precisely. There wasn’t anything for me to abandon, aside from mortality. Which, who the fuck would care about that?” He let out a few wicked chuckles, and Syrena released one that matched. “Mortality is nothing but a weakness. It leads to one place. And that’s death.”
Esmyra remained silent as she watched them. A curious sadness radiating in her glacial eyes. “And what then?”
Azarian swallowed. “A war broke out among the gods. Asyris feared their sister was becoming too powerful, too out of control. So, one day, they managed to kill her, declaring themself as the Divine, holding the power of both life and death.”
Esmyra’s jaw fell open, and Syrena watched her curiously. “How do you kill…death?”
Syrena’s eye twitched. “Asyris claimed they absorbed Malya’s powers.”
“Which is exactly my plan for us, but with the sea,” Naerysa reminded her.
Esmyra audibly swallowed. “So Kaelypso and Naerysa”—she paused, her eyes going distant for a moment—“you and I… we weren’t the first gods to be killed?”
“No,” Syrena admitted. “We weren’t. Only they failed with us.”
“Malya’s followers were to be destroyed next,” Azarian said. “But one day, Naerysa found me in hiding. She should’ve killed me the moment she realized what I was, but I offered my servitude to both sea goddesses instead. The two of you granted me sanctuary in Maerinys, just as I offered you my aid.”
Esmyra’s eyes narrowed. “So, you were a traitor to Irah for Malya, and then a traitor to her for us?”
Syrena’s jaw tightened in irritation.
The corner of Azarian’s lips curled, but there was no kindness in his eyes when he said, “I evaded death for centuries by then. I wasn’t about to fall to her the same way my goddess did. There was nothing else left for me. It was survive or die.”
Esmyra’s gaze swept over him, sharp and assessing.
