Page 217 of Interion

“What do you mean? You think that at some point in history, these archangels—the ones we’ve only heard about in the book—had children?” I shook my head in disbelief. “They’re a legend, Serguei.”

“And how would you explain your dreams, Kyller? Are you going to tell me that’s a legend too? You dreamed about them before you even saw their images in the book.”

I’d never really known about the archangels. Some human religions mentioned angels, but not like this. Not as battle archangels.

“Here in Interion, people don’t worship the Gods as much. When you think about it, our nation is losing the old customs, just like Vinturis, Yonser, and Ampér. I think it’s natural, given evolution and the transition to the modern era. But the Drutes Nation keeps the Gods on pedestals—or at least they used to. When I lived there, I heard their stories. In fact, the sonar was one of the church’s faithful. Before joining the rebellion, he was a hopeless fanatic.”

“The sonar?” I asked. The man seemed more aligned with darkness than light.

“Yes, the sonar! During the entire journey to Interion, he preached about Gods and angels who descended from their thrones to have relations with the faerics. He kept repeating that primaries and secondaries descend from the Gods, and that’s why their power was greater. He said that for some reason, the Gods were searching for something among their children—something important to them.”

“Are you telling me the Gods slept with the faerics from the breeding camps?” I asked, shocked.

“At the time, I thought it was bizarre too. I came to believe the sonar was crazy—he was always strange, and his mind has that damned natural mental block, so I could never get in. I thought it was because he was a bit unhinged, but I don’t see him that way anymore. The sonar is a different kind of man, one who sees and knows things that are still beyond understanding. No wonder he considered himself the son of Seijhe, the God of Intelligence.”

“Is that why you were so interested in what he told me? Are you looking for information?”

Serguei was quiet for a while, leaving Zion and me in silence.

“Is that why you spent your whole life buried in scrolls? Why you turned the apartment into a nest of books? Were you looking for answers?” Zion asked.

“Yes,” Serguei answered, then went quiet again.

“Answers to what questions?” Zion seemed to be choosing his words carefully, as if walking through a minefield.

“Answers to many things I don’t understand—things that have been waiting more than 287 years to be revealed. I won’t say what I’m looking for, because this is my journey, but my questions might be yours too, Kyller. We could help each other.”

His voice returned to its usual excitement. Serguei was shrouded in so many mysteries that it was hard to decipher anything about him. I found myself thinking that if he weren’t Zion’s father, I’d consider him completely untrustworthy.

“If the sonar might have the answers, why don’t we look for him?” I nibbled on my piece of cake.

“Because finding him isn’t that simple. He disappears for most of the year and only shows up on test day or when he needs to recharge the machines with his gift. I’ve rarely managed to talk to him, and whenever I tried, only his normal personality answered. The mystical one spoke to me many years ago, while we were fleeing from the Drutes. And I, foolish like all young people at that age, didn’t take it seriously.”

“What did he say?” I asked.

“Many things.”

“What kind of things?” His answer only sharpened my curiosity.

“The kind that drives you crazy for all the damned years you spend thinking you could have done things differently, but didn’t.”

“You’re not going to tell me? Tell me at least one.” I rested my chin on my hand, waiting for his answer.

“He prophesied that I would have an important decision to make, and that darkness would fall upon the world if love wasn’t put first. Then he implied that my lineage descends from the Goddess of the Night, and that with each generation, the power would grow stronger. Beyond that, he said my blood would be responsible for the earth’s destruction—and also for its unity, if love prevailed.”

Serguei's mental voice trembled on that last sentence, growing muffled, as if he were in pain. We stayed silent for a moment. I didn't know exactly what was causing him so much anguish, but my heart ached watching him suffer.

“Goddess of the Night? Wait, he told me I should fight—if not for myself, then for the son of the night.” I felt Serguei growing restless on the other end. “When he mentions the Goddess of the Night, could he mean Anabel, the Goddess of Death?”

“I always thought so. And when Zion's powers started to manifest...” He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “When the shadows came, I knew the sonar wasn't bluffing. It was a prophecy, and I only understood once everything had already happened. Anabel is known for her affinity with death, shadows, the four elements, and souls. Zion's gift could only have come from her.”

If the prophecy had been fulfilled, it meant Serguei hadn't chosen love—that the decision had been made when he killed Ravena. I was shocked by what I was hearing.

“Are you telling me we're descendants of the Goddess of Death and that our lineage is cursed?” Zion asked, frowning.

“I'm not saying anything. That's what the sonar implied. I'm just repeating what I heard.”

“And why did you only think to tell me this now, Serguei?” I felt Zion growing nervous, and I squeezed his hand to calm him.