by Lynette Noni
“I spoke the words upon the eve of the Meyarins’ banishment to Medora, as I told you before,” Aes Orsa continued. “But from the mention of mortal blood, I knew it couldn’t be referring to any of our people or theirs, despite referencing our Gates of Testing. I presumed it must have something to do with the new world they would be exiled to—a world that would one day be threatened by darkness.”
She looked to Raife, then back to Alex as she continued, “It’s forbidden for Oracles to speak of a prophecy with anyone other than whom the words regard, or with those who are around to hear it at the time of foretelling. But I couldn’t in good conscience send my sister off without some kind of warning as to what she might one day have to face—and who she might one day have to guide and protect. So I gave her what I could: one verse changed enough by a single word to satisfy the oaths I took for secrecy. And in all these years since, no one but Raife, Zaylin and I have known the truth. Until now.”
Aes Orsa spread her hands in supplication and quieted her tone to finish, “Zaylin sought me out the moment she saw you command Soraya de lah Torra and step through the eiden path you summoned. With that and your public entreaty upon arrival in Vardaesia, we knew the prophecy was at hand—and that you deserved to hear the full extent of it. You know everything now, Alexandra. But I daresay there was little you hadn’t already learned on the journey that led you here.” She paused, her voice now a whisper of sound. “Your path is now clear. But only you can decide where you shall venture next.”
Knowing she was speaking figuratively, Alex stifled a groan and tugged at her hair, displacing the sparkly pins Zaylin had painstakingly secured earlier that night.
What’s happening down there, Alex? Your emotions are all over the place.
Not even Xira’s worry could ease her warring thoughts, so she proceeded to mentally recite the prophecy to him.
When she was done, there was a beat of silence as he processed, but then he asked, plain and simple, Want me to come back and roast them?
A strangled laugh left her, enough for Aes Orsa and Raife to share a concerned glance, but Alex didn’t care how unhinged she seemed. She wasn’t sure if Xira was serious or not, but it was a mark of just how distressed she was that she hesitated before finally responding in the negative.
The offer stands if you change your mind, he replied, as if whether or not he flame-grilled the two Tia Aurans was all the same to him.
Sending her thanks—as macabre as that was—Alex retreated from their mental interlude and returned her attention to the immortals in front of her.
“I don’t suppose you can tell me anything else? Anything that might help sway this”—she indicated to the prophecy—“in my favour?”
It was Raife who answered, a half-grin forming on his lips. “Seems to me like you’re doing all right on your own so far. Just keep it up for another two days and that ‘if’ will hopefully turn back to a ‘when’. Presuming all goes as it should, the final verse will become superfluous. At least in theory.”
At least in theory?
Deadpan, Alex said, “You just mentioned hope, presumption and theory all within the space of three sentences. Forgive me if I’m not wholly comforted by your declaration.”
Raife offered a rueful shrug. “Prophecies are fickle, Alex.”
Athora had once told her the same thing.
Continuing, Raife said, “I penned this one myself”—he gestured to the printed writing she still held—“so I can confirm it’s a perfect word-for-word transcript. But context is everything, and we won’t have that without hindsight.”
That was basically what D.C. had said about the original prophecy.
“Meaning,” Alex guessed dryly, “we won’t know until we know. And then it’ll be too late to do anything about it because it’ll already be over and done.”
When both Raife and Aes Orsa nodded, Alex sighed, loud and long.
“For what it’s worth, thanks for seeking me out tonight and sharing the real prophecy,” she said wearily, even if she didn’t exactly feel grateful that elements of her life had been foretold by an Oracle thousands upon thousands of years ago.
“All is far from lost, Alexandra,” Aes Orsa said quietly, reading her tone. “Remember what you told us all tonight; my sister’s final words—to not give in to the darkness, to not fear the shadows. She would not have given her life for your world if she thought her sacrifice would be in vain.” In a whisper, Aes Orsa finished, echoing Alex’s earlier sentiment, “Remember her, Alexandra. Remember Aes Daega.”
And, with a tear sliding down her cheek, Aes Orsa gave Alex a wobbly smile and parroned away.
“Don’t forget what I told you yesterday, Alex,” Raife said quietly. “You have many supporters among my race. Conquer the final two Gates, and you’ll have even more.” He reached out to give her shoulder an encouraging squeeze, his silver eyes holding hers until, in a blaze of light, he disappeared as well.
Twenty-One
Alex didn’t re-join the celebrations that night.
After Aes Orsa and Raife left her alone in the darkness, she wound her way back through the masses and sought out her friends. D.C. and Jordan were dancing around one of the many rainbow-flamed bonfires, Kaiden and Bear were having an animated conversation with their helpers and a small group of other Tia Aurans who all appeared to speak the common tongue, and Declan was boisterously telling stories to an assembly of highly entertained immortals.
Upon approaching Declan’s crowd, Alex soon discovered that, judging by their incorrectly timed laughter, they were entertained not from his tales, but because they had no idea what he was saying.
“I don’t think they can understand you,” she told Declan, pulling him to the side after he’d finished sharing what he considered a hilarious recount of how he’d once broken his ankle thanks to three ducklings, a piece of string and an open bag of marshmallows.
“I know,” Declan said, still laughing in the aftermath of his tale. “They’re the best audience ever.”
Amused, Alex just shook her head and told him she was going to sneak out of the party and didn’t want to interrupt the others, asking if he’d pass the message along later so they wouldn’t worry.
After promising he would, he returned to his avid audience and launched into a new tale, prompting more laughter—at him, not with him. Not that he minded.
Making sure the others still looked content with what they were doing and who they were with, Alex stole back into the darkness, calling for Xira and beckoning for him to return.
Together they soared the skies for hours, long enough for Alex to clear her head and ease her renewed anxieties. The full, unedited prophecy had come as a shock, but it didn’t affect her plans. She couldn’t stop what was coming, but she never had been able to, either.
Despite finding some semblance of peace—or at least, acceptance—she still stayed out with Xira all night and into the early hours of the morning, incapable of summoning the will to return to Vardaesia.
Only when dawn began to threaten on the horizon did she direct him back to the palace, knowing she was soon to face her second-last Gate—and without having had any sleep. On the plus side, she was no longer burdened by the crippling exhaustion that had come from wearing her concealment ring, so while she was tired, she wasn’t dead on her feet like earlier that week.
Since Xira was too big to touch down on her private balcony, Alex had to jump once she was close enough, tucking and rolling upon landing before springing back up to her feet.
Try not to fall asleep mid-Gate, he teased, but also with an edge of concern as he turned on his wing and soared away.
I’m okay, Alex promised, albeit around a yawn. She hoped Zaylin would be willing to sneak her some laendra with breakfast, otherwise her friends might very well have to carry her through the Gate.
Let me know how you go afterwards, Xira said as he disappeared from sight. You’re going to be great.
Promising to do so, Alex headed int
o her room. But as soon as she was through the wispy curtain, she stilled, and then her whole body softened at seeing Kaiden asleep in the armchair beside her bed. Just as she remained in her dress from last night, he was also in his formal attire, crumpled as it was from his upright sleeping position.
As if subconsciously realising she was there, he stirred, his eyes blinking awake until they came to rest on her.
Rising from his chair, he moved sleepily across the room until he was close enough to draw her into his arms. He did nothing more than hold her, his body heat thawing her icy skin. Until that moment, she hadn’t realised how cold she was from the flight, having been oblivious to the elements as she’d soared the skies with Xira, lost in her thoughts.
Snuggling closer, she rested her head in the crook of his neck, allowing his touch to soothe her. He remained silent, yet again understanding her need for comfort without words—but how he knew what she needed when not even she had known, she wasn’t sure. His actions only made her melt into him all the more.
When she no longer felt any trace of cold, Kaiden pulled back slightly and caught her gaze.
“Better?” he whispered, his voice still thick with sleep.
Alex closed her eyes as the word rumbled through her, knowing he wasn’t asking only about her temperature.
Just as quietly, and with as much meaning, she whispered, “Better.”
A tender smile curled his lips—lips that then softly touched her own before he dropped his arms, swept his thumb along her cheekbone, and turned to leave her room.
That was it. No questions asked. No demand for answers. No raging or ranting about where she’d been and why. Just acceptance without the need for explanations, trusting that she would tell him if he needed to know.
Unable to keep the smile from spreading across her tingling lips as the door closed behind him, Alex moved to her bed and fell limply back onto it.
Her smile grew even wider when, not two minutes later, Zaylin arrived, scandalised to find Alex still wearing her dress from the night before. But Alex’s heart was too light to care, and instead of replaying the final lines of the prophecy on repeat as she had been since reading it, she now replayed the look in Kaiden’s eyes and the single word he’d said, more than happy for that memory to push away the lingering darkness of her last few hours.
Zaylin was uncharacteristically amenable to Alex’s request for some laendra with breakfast. In fact, all of her friends were given chalices of the warmed regenerative liquid, and from their relieved sighs, Alex couldn’t help wondering just how long they’d stayed out partying the night before.
Amused by the way they pepped up almost immediately after downing the drink, Alex was relieved when she too was able to shake the lack of sleep from her system, feeling ready to face the day—and the Gate.
Despite her renewed energy, when she and her friends were parroned to the stadium, she couldn’t repress the nerves that came with knowing there were only two days of testing left. If they triumphed today, then one way or another, they would be returning to their world after the Gate tomorrow, and Alex had no idea what might be waiting for them there. While now on her sixth day in Vardaesia, added with the additional day she’d spent wandering the Tia Auran desert, nearly a whole week had passed in Medora—a week where anything could have happened. The very thought filled her with knots, to the point that she had to keep reminding herself to live in the moment and focus on one problem at a time.
“Today our challengers will face either the Gate of Trust, the Gate of Sacrifice or the Gate of Judgement,” Saefii announced when the arches finished spinning and settled into the clouded gap. The empress turned from the cheering audience to look directly down at Alex and her friends. “You’ve impressed me so far, mortals—you’ve impressed all of us. But you still have two more challenges to overcome. So choose wisely today. And may the light be a guide to your path.”
Alex spun slowly to look at the three fiery Gates before facing her friends. “Trust, Sacrifice, Judgement. I can’t say I want to venture into any of these.”
The shaking heads she received in response told her she wasn’t the only one.
“We’ve made it this far,” Jordan said, his optimism feigned but appreciated. “You’ve got this, Alex. Lead, and we’ll follow.”
‘Lead, and we’ll follow.’ That was how it had always been— her friends trusting her no matter where she led them. She just hoped she would continue proving worthy of their loyalty, of their faith. Because if there was one thing the new prophecy had been right about, it was that her friends were her family. They gave her strength, they gave her courage. She would be lost without them.
Knowing they were right there with her, just as they would always be, Alex strode towards the edge of the dais and, with a running jump, sailed through her randomly chosen Gate.
When she came out the other side, she knew where she had landed, she just didn’t know why.
But as she took in the familiar scenery dappled with the fading rays of sunlight and processed the word that had glowed across her mind while travelling through the Gate, Alex’s heart began pounding, pounding, pounding in her chest.
“Why are we back at Raelia again?”
Bear’s question alerted Alex to the arrival of her friends, but she couldn’t answer him. Not because she didn’t know, but because she couldn’t get any words past her frozen lips. She could be wrong—she hoped she was wrong. But she’d only ever been at Raelia once before at sunset… and if this was another journey into her memory as she suspected it might be, then—
“You have entered the Gate of Judgement,” Saefii’s voice echoed around the mushroom-circled clearing, and it took all of Alex’s willpower to keep from falling to her knees. “As with your earlier tasks, if at any time you cannot endure more, call out ‘stop’ and your challenge will conclude immediately.”
Saefii didn’t need to warn them that doing so would lead to instant failure—everyone already knew.
“At least we didn’t land in the Gate of Sacrifice,” D.C. said, peering around the clearing. “Judgement can’t be too bad, right?”
Alex’s body had begun to shake, small trembles at first while Saefii had been speaking until now when she was visibly quaking. But none of her friends noticed, nor did they see her pale face. And that was because they were distracted by two people arriving at the edge of the clearing, blurring in on the Valispath.
One of the two was Alex.
The other was Aven.
“What the hell?” Jordan whispered. But the others shushed him, since Aven started talking.
“Do you remember this place?”
Wearing the silvery dress that was only fractionally less beautiful than the gold one she’d worn last night, Alex’s memory-self seemed perfectly at ease with Aven—because, at the time, she had been. “I do,” she answered.
“Do you remember what you told me that night?”
A quick shake of her head, and Aven continued, “You said that no one can tell us how we should feel.”
The memory played out in vivid detail as Aven went on to explain how he’d come to realise his beliefs were wrong; how he still didn’t like giving so much to the mortals but he was surrendering his crusade against them—because she had convinced him to do so.
Alex watched with morbid horror as he reached out and gently pressed his fingers to her bare cheek beneath the delicate mask she had worn.
She heard her friends’ collective inhales as Aven’s reasons for relinquishing his mortal hatred became known, both in his tender actions towards her, but also in his words as the scene continued.
“Aeylia, surely you must know how I feel about you.”
Then and now, those words were like a punch to Alex’s stomach. Her memory-self was already beginning to retreat from the clearing and deeper into the forest, with Aven following closely behind. As if there was a string attached to the real Alex and her friends, they too were being tugged through the trees, hearing the hear
t-rending declarations pour from Aven’s lips.
With each of his softly spoken words, both memory-Alex and real-Alex’s faces paled further and further, until finally she said, “Aven, I’m not sure—”
“I am, Aeylia,” Aven interrupted, reaching for her shoulders to stop her retreat. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
She was clearly attempting to dislodge his grip, but he held fast and continued, “Think about it and you’ll realise that I’m right. That we’re right. Please, Aeylia—you know what I’m saying is true. Don’t you feel the same?”
“Seriously, what the—” Jordan’s curse was cut off mid-sentence when D.C. elbowed him into silence, all of Alex’s friends watching to see what would happen next.
Alex wondered if she was going to be sick. She knew during the pause in which Aven had told her to think about it, she’d been mentally communicating with Niyx, asking him how best to let Aven down gently. But when she did so, it was even harder to witness the flash of pain that swept across his angelic features than the first time around.
His voice was aching to her ears as he roughly responded, “At the risk of sounding egotistical, I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Aven—”
“No,” he said, raising a hand between them. “Just—Just no.”
And when he turned from her and strode off through the forest back to the clearing where he could more easily summon the Valispath, Alex felt lightheaded as she watched herself stumble after him, knowing what was about to happen.
She wanted to scream ‘STOP!’ but not at the replay of her memory—at herself.
If only she’d left him. If only she hadn’t tried to heal their last moments together in the past. She remembered not wanting to part with him on such a miserable note—he was her friend, and she’d hated hurting him, especially knowing the next time she would see him, he would be trying to kill her.
So she went after him. And when the branch flung back and struck her face, causing a welt with the smallest, most insignificant drop of red blood to well on her cheek, Alex recognised what she had been blind to at the time. The stillness of Aven’s body, the tormented fire in his eyes—that hadn’t been about her rejection. It had been about seeing her blood and suddenly realising that she was mortal.