Page 21

Chapter

Twenty

My hand throbbed when I awoke, a lingering sting from yesterday's adventure. The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the vial of water from the Pool of Vitality, which sat beside the painting of my parents on the desk. My gaze lingered on the portrait, and I wondered what Dad would think of last night. He’d be a mix of appalled and impressed—his little girl putting herself out there. I owed him a letter, but I decided this latest escapade would remain my secret.

Dressed in shades of brown and tan to honor the Eternal Court, I picked up the vial without a second thought and slipped it into my pocket. Opening the door, Marsh greeted me, his fist poised to knock.

“Marsh,” I said, my voice filled with surprise.

“Uh,” he mumbled, caught off guard.

“Good morning to you, too,” I smiled, stepping out and closing the door behind me. “What brings you here?”

His eyes dropped to my hand, concern etched into his features. “I wanted to see how you were doing.”

I laughed, trying to brush off his worry. “It’s just a cut, Marsh. I'm fine. Really.”

He hesitated before finally returning my smile. “Shall we get some breakfast?”

“Lead the way,” I replied, falling into step beside him.

The morning buzzed with unusual energy. Magisters scurried around, more numerous than usual, and the air hummed with whispers of the king's rumored attendance at the feast for Giaxia. As we walked past a group of organizers heading toward the kitchens, Marsh leaned in closer, his breath warm against my skin.

“You know,” he began, “there’s a story about what Giaxia sacrificed to make her pact with the Pool of Vitality.”

I glanced at him curiously. “There are always stories.”

He smirked, a playful glint in his eye. “Yes, but this one is still widely believed by most members of the Eternal Court.”

I raised an eyebrow, teasing. “Are you going to get in trouble for sharing another court’s secrets with me? You’ve warned me how the Eternal Court deals with those who’ve wronged them.”

His chuckle was low and warm. “I think, with this one,” he leaned in even closer, his breath tickling my neck, “I’m willing to take the risk.” A shiver ran down my spine, my heart pounding in response. The urge to close the distance between us, to kiss him, surged within me, but I was painfully aware of the people bustling around us.

“They believe,” he continued, “that Giaxia gave up her mating bond.”

I’d only ever read of the mating bond in The Trials of Thale . It wasn’t something openly taught or even casually mentioned. If anything, it seemed more like a whispered myth—highly speculative, nothing concrete. Not the kind of thing you'd learn in school or from any of the scholars I’d met.

People didn’t discuss it, not seriously, anyway.

“The mating bond is a highly speculative myth,” I countered, trying to refocus on his words.

“It’s never been confirmed.”

“Ah, but Giaxia, according to the Eternal Court,” he said with a slight eye roll, “was the first Primal. The second was Ollo, the Primal of the Court of Whispers.”

I nodded, my fingers absentmindedly playing with the vial in my pocket.

“Rumor has it they hated each other at first, but one day, everything clicked, and they just knew. They were two halves of the same whole.”

Marsh’s gaze intensified as he spoke.

“By that time, other Primals had come into existence.”

“Hild and Vasenia, you mean?”

“Among others,” he replied.

“But they believe there were more than four Primals and that one named Aldur attempted to take Giaxia from Ollo while he was away. When Ollo heard, he hunted Aldur down and killed him.”

Marsh’s voice wove through the air; his words painted vivid images in my mind—the cold steel of battle, the roar of primal forces clashing, the world teetering on the brink of chaos.

“Aldur’s death enraged the other Primals, sparking a war," he continued, his voice low but steady. "The Fae, humans, nymphs—everyone was called upon by their regional Primal to fight. The battles were bloody, ruthless, spanning millennia.”

I could see it: armies stretching across blood-soaked fields, primal magic crackling in the air, the land scorched and barren beneath their feet.

It wasn’t hard to imagine the devastation, the hopelessness that must have filled the hearts of those who fought, knowing the price of their loyalty was often death.

“The final confrontation came down to five Primals: Giaxia, Ollo, Vasenia, Hild, and Andaras—Aldur’s brother.” His words carried us further down the path as we approached the dining hall.

“Ollo and Andaras had their last stand at the base of the Tactras Mountains, where the Court of Whispers now resides.”

I could feel the weight of history in those names, the resonance of ancient battles etched into the earth.

The thought of standing where gods once bled was unsettling.

And yet, his next words shifted something deeper within me.

“Andaras had the larger, better-prepared army. Giaxia knew Ollo was likely to die. So, on the eve of battle, she went to the Pool of Vitality and begged for the fighting to end.” He paused, pushing open the door to the dining hall and holding it for me as I stepped through, my mind still caught in the swirl of his story.

“But the pool demanded a great sacrifice in return.”

I could almost feel the icy, unnatural stillness of that ancient pool, its waters glimmering with silver specks.

My breath caught as I braced myself for what came next.

“She offered the only thing she had—her love for Ollo. Not as a physical sacrifice, but she gave up her bond with him. The pool accepted and created the courts in return, each Primal being given their own territory to reign, believing this would satisfy the lust and true motivations behind the fighting.”

I stopped in my tracks, the weight of his words hitting me like a blow to the chest. I turned to face him, trying to grasp what that could even mean.

“What happened to Andaras?”

“He refused to offer anything of himself to the pool and met his end soon after. No one knows exactly how.”

The dining hall loomed behind us, forgotten.

Marsh’s eyes met mine, shadows flickering in his gaze as the sadness of the tale seeped into the air between us.

“What happened to Giaxia and Ollo?”

“The Eternal Court believes the Pool of Vitality severed their bond. Giaxia recovered because she made the offering. But Ollo…he was never the same. The remnants of the bond drove him to madness. Some say he killed himself, but no one really knows.”

The image of a broken Ollo left adrift in a world where his connection to Giaxia no longer existed filled me with an aching sadness I couldn’t shake.

“This is one of the saddest stories I’ve ever heard,” I said, my voice thick with the sorrow that laced the tale.

Marsh’s gaze softened, the intensity of the myth fading into the present moment.

“You don’t believe in any of this, though, right?” he asked, his tone teasing, reminding me of our earlier skepticism about such stories.

I hesitated, my thoughts swirling in the depth of Giaxia’s sacrifice.

“Even if it were true, it would be a terrible fate,” I murmured.

“Giaxia did nothing wrong, yet she had to sacrifice the thing she loved most.”

The quiet between us grew heavy with the weight of her choice.

Her love was not a flaw, and yet she paid the price.

Marsh’s voice broke through my reverie, gentle but firm.

“The mating bond is supposed to be unbreakable. If it even exists.”

I stared at him, a knot tightening in my chest. The words echoed in my mind.

To break something so deeply tied to the soul…

how much power would that take?

And how much would it destroy?

“Do you believe in the mating bond?” I asked, our steps slowing as we neared the food.

“I didn’t always, but I might be starting to.”

We paused, eyes locking for a moment.

I wanted to lean in, to close the space between us, but the bustling hall reminded me of our audience.

Marsh’s eyes flicked to the side, and I followed his gaze to see Oz, Kadian, and Lil gesturing wildly in conversation.

“I’ll see you later,” he said, giving me a quick wink before heading toward the group.

“That isn’t what I meant, Kad, and you know it!” Lil’s voice rang out as I approached the table.

“I see you all are in fighting form this morning,” I laughed, sliding into a seat where a plate of food with toast with wolfberry jam awaited me.

“Did you hear what happened last night?” Kadian’s face was serious, his tone urgent.

“Good morning to you too, Kadian,” I replied, taking a bite of my food.

His grave expression didn’t waver.

“What do you mean?” I asked, my heart starting to race.

Oz’s face was grim. “There was an earthquake in Hadash.”