Page 20

UNWRITTEN HISTORY

SERYN

T here was so much sifting through my mind. The encounter with Caelora both comforted and unsettled me. My thoughts and emotions were like sediment drifting into place behind each step. Reminding me of things that pained me, and things I needed to atone for.

Kaden .

Hesitantly, I unpacked what had happened with my best friend during the last Dormancy. A lump stuck in my throat, and I swallowed a few times while my gaze unfocused and wandered aimlessly. I couldn’t own his feelings, and I wasn’t ashamed of the intimacy we had shared.

Yet, I played a part in hastening things. I could blame naivete and the sense of urgency the Dormancy fostered, but that would be the easy way out.

Deep down, I’d sensed the intensity of Kaden’s affections, a silent current beneath the surface of our friendship, but I hadn’t wanted to accept it.

I’d chosen to take things down the path we’d taken, knowing that I didn’t reciprocate them.

And for that, I was sorry. I hoped I’d get the chance if—no, I would apologize … when we found my best friend.

As if a band had been loosened around my ribcage, my lungs expanded. My focus cleared, and a particularly verrucose toad came into view. He blinked at me slowly with his mouth gaping.

My eyes narrowed. Why are these little bastards so damn judgment ?—

“Tea to go with your introspection?” Yaya’s voice poked through my thoughts.

Sticking my tongue out at the creature, I followed her up the winding stairs and into her home. A cozy fire sputtered in the hearth, and its warmth embraced me as I sat at her table.

She set the plain cups in front of me, taking the seat by my side. With a solemn expression, she poured a bit of lavender liquid into each. Lifting one eyebrow, I brought it to my nose. The scent wasn’t quite sweet, but it smelled of some type of fruit. “This isn’t tea,” I teased.

The older woman shrugged, taking a sip. “Did I say tea? I meant a nip of mireberry wine.”

I smirked, tasting the tart liquid as it tingled down my throat. My lips smacked together, eyes squinting. “I’d say just a nip will do ya.”

“It gets better as you go.” With one hand, she gestured for me to drink more.

I did, and its bittersweet heat was a pleasant comfort as I swallowed. I lifted my cup in thanks, and she reclined, her chair creaking.

“What were you muddling over out there? Or did you already tell the gilly toad all your secrets?” She smirked, resting one elbow on her crossed arm, her cup near her chin.

A breathy snort left me as I bent forward, resting my forearms on her table. “They are quite attentive.” She waited until I gave in, “I was thinking about Kaden. And Gavrel. And my part in how our relationships have turned out.”

“Ah, matters of the heart, then. That’s good. It’s good to have your wits about you. Ancients know it’s easy to get your brains twisted along with your panties. ”

I choked on the drink I’d taken. She set her cup down and patted me on the back a few times. “Er, I suppose, um.”

She clucked her tongue. “No need to be embarrassed. I’ve birthed two daughters.

I know how it works.” She settled in her chair.

“So, which one is it, then? I’d put my coin on the commander.

I see the way you look at one another. Can’t imagine you’d be as jumpy if it were the younger brother. What with him being missing and all.”

My chin dipped, and I ran my thumbs over my cup.

“Kaden and I have been best friends since we were children. During the last Dormancy … we were more. He said he’d always loved me, and I didn’t feel the same.

Things ended poorly before he vanished. And now …

now Gavrel and I are … well, I’m not sure yet, but it’s something.

It was something before. I just hadn’t remembered it until recently. ”

Her mouth puckered, but she didn’t dig further into what I meant.

Instead, she drank the rest of her wine.

She sighed. “Sounds like you know the part you played with your friend and are sorry about it. But you’re owning how you felt and are figuring out your course of action with the older brother.

” She clasped her hands on her stomach. “Good on you, my dear. It takes a backbone to own your mistakes, not apologize for your heart, and then move on with it.”

A flush scurried over my chest and cheeks. Obviously the wine. “Uh, thank you,” I mumbled.

She nodded curtly. “You should be proud of putting one foot in front of the other. It’s important to understand where we’ve been if we have any chance of knowing where we must go.”

“That’s true. History is so important.” I looked around her home, my forehead lifting. Now that I thought of it, I hadn’t noticed any literature in Helos. “Do the Bogs not have any books?”

“Ah, good observation. We used to have more, but war and the elements claimed most texts long ago. Much of our history, though, is passed down orally and has been for quite some time. The people here believe each mortal must pass on our stories to the next generation.”

I placed my hand on my collarbone. “That’s beautiful. ”

“It is. I can tell you enjoy learning, yes? From the way you soak up what everyone around you is saying. How you study your surroundings. Like you are waiting for the story to unfold.”

I shifted in my seat. “I … Yes, I do. I enjoy reading. Learning. My teacher used to say that I’d wear out all his books by the time I was done with primary education.” A smile spread across my mouth at the memory of Magister Barden.

Yaya grinned and then poured more viscous liquid into our cups. “Do you know of the Nightbloom Sundering?”

“A bit. It was the last great celestial war. I’ve never been able to find much about it, or at least didn’t have access to it. Growing up, Magister Barden mentioned it briefly. A century long and devastating to Midst Fall.”

“Ah, that’s because much of the texts were destroyed”—she held up her forefinger—“and devastating to all the realms.” She tapped her temple. “And why our unwritten history and our music are so sacred.” She drank, pressing her lips together.

The firelight flickered in her eyes, and a thrumming warmth spilled over me in anticipation.

With a deep inhale, she began, “It’s been said that when the humans were first gifted ember, war broke out through Midst Fall.

The empire fell, and Druiks, ungoverned, wreaked havoc on the realm.

Give a mortal power without edicts, whether ember or rule over others, and it festers.

Mutates into something malignant.” She sighed, swirling her wine in her cup.

“Everything needs boundary lines to bump into. Otherwise, we fall off the edge or completely unravel the Aetherbind.”

My brow furrowed at the unfamiliar term. “Aetherbind?”

Her shining gaze glanced out the window over her bed. “The seam that holds the aether and everything within it together. The very thing that keeps Kosmos in check.”

“Ah. So, the Ancients intervened, yes?”

She shook her head. “Not at all. The Ancients don’t entirely care for the affairs of mortals unless it affects them.

Unless it benefits them.” She took a drink, letting the liquid swish over her tongue before swallowing.

“Jealous by nature, the Ancient of Nightmares envied his brother and took it upon himself to kill Morpheus’ wife during the chaos of the mortals.

Out for revenge, Morpheus shifted the tides of dreams; his creations displacing the torment of his brother’s nightmares—a battle in the minds of the slumbering.

Their feud rippled throughout the realms, and a war of epic proportions among the Ancients followed. ”

My eyes widened as I listened intently, soaking up the details. “How did it end?”

Yaya gave me a patient smile, holding up a hand.

“After nearly a century of war ravaging the realms, the Fates were compelled to intervene. With no end in sight, mortals suffered greatly as both their and the Ancients’ battles raged.

The Aetherbind was fraying, its hold weakened.

You see, Kosmos is the Fates’ most precious gift to living things.

It is universal order and balance. Life and death.

Ancients and mortals. Dream and waking. If it isn’t maintained, then everything goes—” She snapped her fingers.

Magister Barden never directly mentioned the Aetherbind, but his lessons on balance and chaos flit through my mind nonetheless. “What binds, protects. What breaks, devours,” I murmured, echoing his words.

Yaya set her cup on the table and nodded.

“If the Aetherbind breaks, Kosmos collapses. And then everything we know—ember, our realms, even the Fates—falls into Khaos. Unstable, chaotic nothingness.” Yaya sighed.

“The Fates warned the Ancients that they’d release the Primevals, the first beings that ever were and always have been.

The very personification of creation itself. They’d unleash the Dark Reaping.”

A shallow gasp flitted over my bottom lip. “Bloody void. They would cut us all down rather than face the wrath of Khaos.”

“Indeed. At least with a Dark Reaping, the Fates would survive and could build a new universe. Faced with a dire threat to their existence, the Ancients had no choice but to negotiate a treaty. We know little about it, but we know it ended the war and spurred the establishment of the Elders, their sacred bloodlines, and the process of Ascension. ”

My fingers had slipped over the bottom of my chin and mouth. “Yaya, thank you, truly. You’re quite the storyteller.”

She grinned. “Historian, my dear. It’s our history . And we’ve been figuring out where to go from it ever since.”