Page 100 of By the Flames of Her Fury

relics wrought from a soul sacrifice.

When the amulets are made one,

the power of the Fates shall answer once more,

and Pyraeth shall rise from death into dawn.

But all rebirth is written in surrender.

As it was in the first forging,

so it shall be in the last.

I traced the edges, fingers barely grazing the delicate material. “It talks about a soul sacrifice,” I whispered. “What did the original demithes give?”

“Everything,” all three Elders said at once. The Inner Sanctum was so silent, I could hear my heart beating against my chest.

“It killed them?”

“In a manner of speaking.” Arcadia cleared his throat. “Once they made the decision to stop performing the stasis ritual, they knew they were going to die eventually. They created the Sacred Three and imbued them with the purest form of Fate power so that one day, it could be used to raise the kingdom, even if they would not be there to see it.”

Julius lifted a hand, and strands of light shot from his fingertips. They formed three circles in the air, light magic sparking and crackling above us. Within each of the circles was the sun crest, the phoenix, and a third one, which was blank.

"They poured what was most vital to them into the amulets. It took, and took, and took the deepest parts of their souls. Once that was gone, there was nothing left of them but ash. From those embers, the Sacred Three was formed. Symbols of rebirth and hope.” Julius let the light fade away.

Maeve pulled the sun amulet from beneath her robes. “The sun has been kept safely here at the palace for centuries,” she said. “The phoenix, however, was taken by a scouting group several hundred years ago, and hasn’t been seen since, until you brought it back to us.”

“But the final one remains elusive,” Arcadia finished. “We have our theories, but as the scroll says, it’s impossible to find without the person they’ve written about.”

I licked my lips. “I just don’t understand why it’s me. Why am I this Lightbringer?”

“Because it is in your blood, Vera,” Arcadia said. “You are not who you’ve always thought you were.”

A chill crept along my skin. “What do you mean?”

He stepped closer. “Haven’t you figured it out by now? The magic you were born with, the abilities you have been granted…they are not Veridian.”

My pulse pounded faster. I’d always thought something was wrong with me. Something nobody could explain, despite endless experiments. And now, being here, it all started to make sense.

“You are a demithe, Vera,” he murmured. “Part human, part Fate. Descended from the Fates themselves.”

I inhaled. His words twisted through me, mingling with my trembling magic. My Fate magic. My Fate blood. “How is that possible?” I breathed out. “My family is from the Veridian Empire. That’s where we were born. Me, my brother, our parents, for as far back as I can remember. Pyraeth doesn’t even exist to the outside world. How can I be descended from this place?”

“We told you of expeditions our people made throughout the centuries, with the twenty-four hours of freedom. If they never make it back to Pyraeth, they are presumed dead, but we can never truly know what became of them. There’s a chance that some chose to never return. They could have left their mission and found a new life beyond our shores.” Arcadia gave me a wistful smile. “A new life in your empire, for instance, where they could start over and bear children outside of the scourge on our kingdom. We believe that you are a descendant of these liberated Pyraethis.”

I paced the floor. “If that’s true, then why has no one else in my family ever been like me?”

He shook his head, and his long beard bobbed. “I cannot answer that, Vera. For some reason known only to the Fates, the demithe bloodline chose to manifest in you. Perhaps it had been there all along, lying dormant until someone worthy would come to break us from our cage.”

Someone worthy. Tears stung the backs of my eyes at his words, so unexpected that it made my nose twitch.

I had never thought I was worthy. I was a problem that needed to be fixed, or a necessary means to someone else’s end. I was someone whose purpose lay in vengeance, whose fire was only good for taking. For destroying. But what if this was the reason I’d survived all the terrible things in my life? That the reason I was still going, still fighting, was because there was good left for me to do in this world? To not only take, but to give.

Maybe my quest for Mortep had been what I needed to lead me here. To show me purpose beyond my old life. I could feel the shift in my desires; the open, aching wound left in the wake of Mortep’s death now revealing a new direction for my flames.

“I may never understand why it’s me,” I started, meeting each of their golden gazes, “but I promise, I’ll do whatever it takes to help your people.”

Pride gleamed in their eyes. “The path you have chosen will not be easy,” Maeve said. “The Fates will stop at nothing to prevent you from breaking the enchantment they placed.”