Page 7 of Aryn

“Zadeus was hunting for scientists,” I explain. “It was well known that I studied the passage of energy in our world. There was no reason to hide it, really. Not until…” I trail off, rubbing my chest as the memories flood back. “His soldiers invaded my village. They… killed many. Threatened to kill more until I agreed to come with them.”

“You were a prisoner?” Bash asks, watching me over Xeni’s shoulder.

“We all were,” I argue. We were trapped at Ljómur—scientists, guards, medics, and prisoners alike. There were some who took sick pleasure in the power they wielded, who enjoyed inflicting pain on others and proudly reported for duty in the mornings. But mostly, we were forced to do the work that none of us wanted to do.

“Yeah, that’s different though,” Bash argues.

I want to argue that it’s not different—that it’s the exact same fucking thing. A cage is a cage, no matter how you’re tossed behind its bars. But it’s not worth fighting about. Not when there are things happening that are so much bigger than my tragic past.

“It was a long time ago,” I say, as though that makes the story any less awful. “Several decades before the barrier fell.”

Bash’s brows furrow further. “Decades?”

I nod, idly tracing shapes in the dirt with my toe. “Zadeus had secret research facilities in Elyra.”

“Sounds familiar,” Xeni mutters.

Bash stares at me a moment longer. “I didn’t know that.”

“It was similar to Ljómur. There was a group of us, all working on manipulating these force fields…” I trail off as I glance around the circle. A few look concerned, while others are almost skeptical. When my eyes land on Cato’s, there’s a clear challenge in his clenched jaw.

“We didn’t know what we were doing,” I argue, pushing aside the memories of all that destruction. I shake my head, brows pinching as I try to read the expression on Cato’s face. “It wasn’t… I didn’t have a choice. None of us wanted to be there, and I couldn’t risk my family—”

Xeni cuts in, his words so venomous they feel caustic on my skin. “Of course you didn’t have a choice. If you think anyone could’ve stood against my father, you’re delusional.” His eye flicks back to Sovran, like he’s too mad to look but needs to ask the question. “That’s why he was so powerful, then?”

“It is.”

“And it’s why I’m so powerful as well?”

Sovran’s lips press into a tight grimace. “As best I can tell, yes. He passed a portion of my power to you when you were born.”

“Yeah, I bet he fucking loved that,” Xeni mutters before turning back to me. “That’s why you were at Ljómur?”

I dip my chin in agreement. “I was his servant. All of us were—you know that. Once he opened the portals, he kept a group of us on either side. He wanted to study them and find the secrets for controlling the divide.”

Xeni chews on his lip. “He wanted to be the only one with the ability to open or close them.”

“Exactly,” I agree. “But a resistance formed. They started fighting harder and gaining traction, and Zadeus got paranoid. The rebels were wary of crossing, so he brought his top scientists here.”

“Wait,” Bash says, shaking his head. “Wait just a… you’ve been at Ljómur since the beginning?”

“I have. My confinement wasn’t as extreme as others”—my eyes find Nyx’s solemn gaze from across the circle—“because he viewed me as important. I was transported when he needed me elsewhere. There were times I had to perform my studies on site.”

“I thought the prisoners were kept at the base?” Cato asks, brow furrowing.

“I didn’t work with prisoners,” I explain. “Zadeus was paranoid we would learn too much, so our research was split. None of us knew the full picture. My studies were more of nature and how it connects the world… worlds, I suppose. But it wasn’t freedom. Despite the years I’ve been on this side, I’ve seen very little aside from the inside of his facilities.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me that?” Bash asks, his eyes full of sadness on my behalf.

I try to offer him a reassuring smile. “You were in the same situation.”

“Not for a lifetime,” he argues as Xeni shifts in his arms to wrap him in a hug.

“What difference does it make?” I ask gently. “Neither of us controlled what was happening to us. It does no good to dwell on things you can’t change.”

Cato makes a small noise. When I glance at him, there’s a strange expression on his face. It’s familiar, almost, like he understands exactly what I’m trying to say.

Xeni heaves a long sigh and sinks back onto the log, and Bash follows him. Ronan and Elas share a quick look, deciding there’s no immediate threat of another outburst, and settle into their seats again.