Page 115 of Darkness Births the Stars #1

“Like you always do?” I whispered, stopping abruptly. “But we both know I’m not as perfect as you.” My anger at his cursed indifference burned hotter with every passing moment. “Able to just soldier on, no matter what happens. Able to put duty above everything else.”

I saw the pain in Aramaz’s eyes as I unleashed my anguish on him, but I felt no remorse. I couldn’t stop. In fact, a dark part of me reveled in it. Let him feel a fraction of the torment that was tearing me apart.

“Able to kill him to secure your bloody crown.”

At that final accusation, Aramaz broke. His blue eyes ignited with power, the wind blowing around us turning into a storm.

My magic surged in response, roaring with pain and fury as it clashed with his.

I should have been terrified of the foreboding expression on my husband’s face, but I wasn’t.

I was relieved. Relieved that all the disappointment and rage between us was finally laid bare.

Yet Aramaz’s magic didn’t strike. He merely watched me, lightning flashing in his gaze, his voice rough with bitterness. “It was you,” he growled, all thunder and wrath, brought to his limit and beyond. “It was you who destroyed the Tree.”

My powers stilled instantly, paralyzed by shocked disbelief.

“No.” I stumbled backward, clutching my chest as if he had physically struck me. “I would never…”

Aramaz’s powers calmed at my reaction, though the fire in his eyes remained.

“The others do not know. But I saw it all,” he said.

“Belekoroz. He manipulated you. That night, he forced you to make a decision. He fed you terrible lies to poison your mind against the Allfather and me.” His gaze locked onto mine, the distress on his face confirming the truth of his words.

“You lost control. The Flame raged unchecked. And the Tree burned.”

No. It couldn’t be true. All my memories of the night Yggdrasil had been destroyed were lost in an impenetrable fog of horror and despair .

But then I remembered. I remembered feeling angry, feeling betrayed. I remembered the Flame roiling through my veins, breaking free, fueled by Chaos, not Light, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake.

“Monster, monster…” I remembered my desperate cries as I writhed in terrible pain, the ceiling of a cave above me. And worst of all, I remembered Noctis’s tormented answer as he left me, misunderstanding my self-loathing, thinking I had meant him.

“If a monster is all you can see in me, a monster I shall be.”

Stars, what had I done? What had I done?

“But he said it was him,” I whispered, a forlorn plea for mercy.

“I think my brother knew quite well that what happened was his fault,” Aramaz answered, a wistful twist to his lip. “Besides, he always had a strangely chivalrous side. He probably wanted to protect you.”

My trembling hands looked deceptively fragile and Human in the gentle golden glow of dusk. “I destroyed Yggdrasil,” I said, the truth piercing through me like a relentless wave, threatening to drown me.

I destroyed everything.

Our love had sundered this world. Noctis had tried to use my feelings for him, to exploit my weakness, and in the end, it had broken us both.

Aramaz’s eyes were cautious as he stepped closer. “My brother was never the only threat to Aron-Lyr’s peace.”

“If the Light fails, the world will burn.” Enlial’s prophecy had been a warning I was too foolish to understand. My gaze found Aramaz, and a terrible conviction rose inside me.

“And I suppose keeping your brother under control wasn’t your only order from the Allfather,” I said tonelessly, sensing the first spark of the Flame awakening, eager to burn, eager to destroy.

It raged through me as Aramaz remained silent, his lack of response speaking volumes.

“Perhaps,” I murmured, “it’s time I relieved you of this dreadful burden. ”

His eyes widened in terror as my skin glowed with power, a force so immense no corporeal form could contain it. I knew what he was witnessing: my eyes consumed by flames, light bursting from my back like colossal wings, fanning the air with blistering heat.

“Afraid now?” I asked, my voice sizzling with magic and betrayal. “Isn’t my power what you wanted all along, my king? Isn’t it why you put up with all my weakness, with me being unfaithful for millennia?”

The power of the Flame, bestowed on me as a blessing of the Allfather, had always felt more like a curse.

I suspected both Noctis and Aramaz coveted it more than they desired me.

It had reduced me to a pawn in their endless game of dominance.

I longed to be free of it. I longed to be free of it all.

But perhaps I can be.

The thought pierced through my mind, unbidden yet relentless. Without my powers, no one would demand anything from me anymore. Without my powers, I could harm no one. Without my powers, I could not fail.

I did not question the madness overtaking me, allowing the Flame to rage within, untamed and wild.

It burned hotter and hotter, drenching the cliffs and sea in a deep red-gold light, a towering inferno reaching high into the sky.

I knew what to do, having seen how Aramaz had burned away Noctis’s magic.

As I felt my control slipping, I turned the Flame inward.

The pain was excruciating, tearing me apart, my shrill screams slicing through the air. If I could have stopped at that moment, I would have.

But it was too late. It was done.

The world returned to me in shades of gray. Gray sky, gray waves, gray rock beneath my cheek. Footsteps crunched on the stone, drawing closer. Warm fingers trailed over my skin, their gentle touch agonizing on my oversensitive flesh.

“What have you done to yourself, Baradaz?” Aramaz asked, his voice filled with endless sorrow.

Destroyed myself, I could have answered. Freed myself.

But my voice did not obey. The world tilted, sea and sky merging into one, and then I fell into darkness.

One should note that this time, not all of my brethren visited me.

Perhaps it was easier for them to pity me when I sacrificed my heart to save them than to pretend to understand why I had renounced everything we stood for.

Light. Order. Duty.

I adapted to being Human more swiftly than I anticipated. Occasionally, I would forget, much like those who had lost limbs in the war, reaching out with my mind for a simple task only to be met with a painful void where my powers once thrummed within me.

When I informed Aramaz of my decision to leave Lyrheim, he did not attempt to dissuade me.

I suspected it would be simpler for him to explain my absence than to justify how I had become as mortal as those who worshipped us.

It was the last time we spoke, our words cold and stilted, the air thick with unspoken regrets.

He stopped me as I reached the door to his study, his hand extending toward my hair only to hover between us, the gesture incomplete.

He had still not healed the scars I had inflicted on him, thin pale lines carved into his cheek.

“I wish…” he began, then swallowed visibly. “Take care, Baradaz,” he continued, whatever else he had intended to say lost forever .

“You as well,” I replied. The image of his tall, unyielding form standing alone in the doorway lingered with me as I walked away.

Tanez was far more vocal about her opinion. She cursed Noctis, Aramaz, and my stubbornness, pleading with me to reconsider. But when she finally conceded defeat, she took over organizing my supplies with admirable efficiency.

It was no surprise that Namtaz gifted me a lyr -stone blessed with her healing magic, but Zamani’s gift of a Fire stone left me astonished.

“I thought you hated me,” I said when she visited me in the modest guest room I had moved into, her elaborate golden dress feeling oddly out of place.

She scoffed, her violet eyes fierce. “I am not my husband, simple in my emotions. I can love you, my friend, and still be angry at you for all that you have done.” The Fire stone gleamed a deep red as she placed it on the table, her gaze unwavering.

Two swift steps and her arms enveloped me in a harsh embrace.

“Wherever you go,” she murmured, “I hope you find peace.” Then she was gone, leaving only a faint scent of amber and jasmine behind.

Enlial was the last to visit, on the eve of my departure, in the form of a bright-eyed Elvish youth.

I had told no one where I was going, but I suspected they knew from the scrying bowl they brought, along with an Air stone; the bowl was adorned with depictions of gentle pastures and rolling hills.

Once, I would have smiled at the subtle hint of knowledge. Now, it made me bristle.

“So, how many visions have you seen of me destroying the world?” I spat, my voice trembling with anger. “How much have you kept from me over the ages?”

Their eyes dropped to the ground, confirming my worst fears. Had all those dramatic revelations they had shown me ever been more than another move in my husband’s attempts to control me ?

There was only one thing of which I was certain: I could trust no one but myself.

“I can only recount what I see, my queen,” Enlial tried to defend themself, their voice wavering. “I do not influence the decisions others make, nor do I take a side.”

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “You chose a side when you kept your silence, no doubt at the king’s order. And it certainly wasn’t mine.”

They sighed, not denying it. “The king bade me weave a spell to honor your wish to remain undisturbed in your exile. No one will remember your face from this day on or suspect that this mortal form once belonged to the Star Queen.” Their flawless, youthful face turned worried.

“I must warn you, though—the magic might not hold if someone has genuine memories of speaking with you. I know you probably do not want to hear, but I saw—”

“No!” I interrupted them forcefully, unwilling to darken my first steps into freedom. “I have had enough of your prophecies haunting my every move. Perhaps I am doomed. Perhaps I am not. But I refuse to be afraid of my future any longer.”

I slammed the door in their face without waiting for a reply.

The next morning, my travel companion awaited me at the edge of the city, her face concealed by her cloak’s hood just as mine was. We rode in silence through the rolling green hills surrounding Lyrheim, the rising sun warming our backs.

When a delighted babble drifted over, I halted my horse with a laugh. “I think someone is awake.”

Briseis Lyrasen pulled down the cloth, revealing her son securely tied to her chest, his soft golden locks gleaming in the sunlight. “Perhaps he feels this is a new beginning.”

I did not respond, glancing back over the vast Elariel Lake to the City of Light, Yggdrasil’s ruin a dark reminder of all that I had lost .

“This is not the end,” Briseis said, following my gaze. “Even if it might feel like it.”

I gave her a skeptical look. “Are you a seer now, Briseis Lyrasen?”

“No,” she replied, her gaze unwavering. “But I know your heart and mine, my queen. Fate won’t break us. We will not allow it.”

I looked at her for a long moment. Then I smiled, spurring my horse forward, leaving Lyrheim behind. “Just Rada now, my friend. I am no one’s queen any longer. Only my own mistress.”