Page 9 of Aryn

“That’s… unfortunate,” Cato mutters.

“I went to my people,” Sovran continues. “I told them we had to intervene.”

“Let me guess,” Cameron says with a humorless laugh. “More cryptic excuses about destiny?”

“No,” Sovran replies, glancing back toward the sky. “Not destiny. Once I admitted everything I had done, they realized my actions had already altered the natural order. If the worlds were destroyed, that piece of my power would’ve been destroyed with it, and everything would be as it should’ve been. They said further intervention would only create a ripple effect, and that our part in the story was over.”

“You didn’t accept that,” I say.

“I did not,” he agrees. “Two worlds would die because of my mistake. I refused to stand by and let it happen. So I came to the human realm—”

“Wait,” Bash interrupts. “You said you couldn’t leave again.”

“I could leave,” Sovran responds softly. “But I could not return.”

Silence falls over the group. The fire pops lazily beneath the cauldron while we wait. No one dares push him with the raw devastation written across his face.

“Our powers are tied to our realm,” he continues after a moment. “Once I came here, I knew they would eventually run out. When that happens, I will be… mortal.” He nods toward Ronan and Elas sitting side by side. “As mortal as any of you.”

“You still have power?” I ask.

“Very little. Most of it was spent putting the prophecy in place.”

“How did you do it?” Bash asks.

Sovran glances at him with a faint half-smile at the curiosity. “Zadeus was planning the invasion with his top strategists when I arrived. He was shocked, and looked at me in a way I hadn’t seen in centuries. He looked like himself, and, for a moment, I thought we might turn it around… that I could make up for my mistakes and convince him to stop. It was a foolish notion. Once he got over the surprise of seeing me, he tried to fight back. He used that small fraction of my power against me, but he was no match.”

“So what happened?” Elas asks. “We’ve heard the stories leadership circulated, but we know those are bullshit now.”

“I held them there,” Sovran says. “I forced them to stay in their seats and watch while I gathered what power I had left and used it to rewrite the fabric of both worlds. It took days, and by the end, I could barely stand. I had seen that the portals would not stay closed forever, but there was a path—a possibility—that the Fates could be brought back into alignment. That future depended on humans and Elyrians learning to live in harmony.”

“I used my mistake with Zadeus as inspiration. What should have been something beautiful between us had twisted into something grotesque, so I wove the fated mate bond into the existence of both worlds. Every mated pair would begin to heal the damage, and eventually, when there was peace between the sides, we could be strong enough to open the portals again.”

“Why do they need to open?” Bash asks. “I mean, I’m all for peace and stopping this endless war, but why not just leave the worlds separate?”

Sovran holds up the two rocks again, eyes moving between them. “The worlds were never meant to touch. When Zadeus tore open the divide, he made them dependent on each other. Have you not noticed the changes? The hotter temperatures, the natural disasters?”

“Of course we have,” Cameron says. “We’re all sweating our asses off just sitting here.”

“This world is dying,” Sovran stresses. “And so is Elyra. The climate there has always been colder than this one, but now it edges toward an ice age. It is too cold for much of the wildlife, and the ground stays buried under ice and snow.” He clicks the rocks together, holding them side by side. “They need each other to survive, and the portals must open if the prophecy is ever to be completed.”

“Completed?” Bash asks.

Sovran’s eyes snap to him, rage and sadness burning bright. “It is the part of the prophecy that was kept hidden. Zadeus knew it—he heard it—but by the time I finished, I was nearly unconscious and had to flee. Everyone in that room he couldn’t control was killed, then he blamed their deaths on me. He claimed I took their lives in my anger, and turned even more against the Fates.”

He glances deliberately around the circle—at Ronan and Elas, then Nyx and Daiwyn behind them, Lillith, and finally Xeni. “Have you never considered your lifespans? The difference between your years and those of your human mates?”

“Of course we have,” Ronan answers. The words come out halfway to a whine as he pulls Cameron closer. “We think about it every second of every fucking day.”

Sovran dips his chin. “The prophecy ties everything together. If the passageways open and the veil lifts once more, the worlds that have become codependent will share a single lifespan.” He nods toward the mated couples. “And so will you.”

Cato

Quiet chaos breaks out around the circle while I sit back and let it all sink in. Everyone else seems fixated on the whole shared-lifespan thing, but my mind keeps circling back to the part about there actually being a future for this world that doesn’t end in wasteland and cracked dry earth.

“Why was this not shared sooner?” Ronan demands, pulling a tearful Cameron tighter into his lap.

Good gods, the lot of them are so fucking dramatic.