Page 72 of The Sins of Silas (The Otacian Chronicles #2)

Chapter Seventy-Two

LENA

M y eyes couldn’t possibly be wider. They shot over to Silas, who returned the same bewildered expression.

I couldn’t believe it. My thoughts jumbled to that night…the night she died.

I just spoke to her a few months ago. How is this possible?!

We were in Igon's study in Ames. A golden glow was emitting from Kayin's palms, healing a wound on Igon’s arm. Her dark hair was tucked behind her pointed ear.

His hair was still black, free of greys, but a light dusting of facial hair was on his face.

I now realized, looking into his eyes, that they weren’t just topaz.

They were golden.

“You need to be more careful,” she said quietly to him.

He laughed, his voice unserious as he replied, “I will be just fine, you know this. You’ve seen it.”

Golden…and that’s why his smile was always so familiar. He looked like Silas.

“The future can change, you know this,” she retorted, healing his minor wound.

He sighed. “It was a simple accident, and I would heal fine without magic.” His smile faded. “Are you sure you wish to go through with this? Their lineage is…”

Her blue eyes settled on him. “I don’t want to marry him. But I have to. It is the only way to save our people and give us a life where we can live freely.”

“But how can you be sure?” He sat up now, his eyes surveying the town. I followed his gaze, seeing a man with fair skin and light brown hair walking outside. A human. “I know you love him, Kayin. And he loves you, too.”

She squeezed her eyes, and tears came out. “I know. But it must be done, Father. It is the only way.”

He brushed his thumb along her cheek lovingly. “The burden of being a seer.”

The vision swirled, and we were in a bedroom. Kayin was held in an embrace by the brown-haired man.

“I don’t want you to go, Kay,” he whispered, his light grey eyes tortured as he pulled away. “Please. I will do anything.”

“I don’t wish to leave either, Quill,” she murmured as she pulled him into a kiss.

My body went into shock. My eyes darted to Silas, whose limbs shook as he gaped at the sight before him.

This was the man who had supposedly killed his sister, Aria. The man whose name he used when he first met me .

Quill Callon.

He was Ryia’s—Kayin’s lover?

Silas had said his mother had never believed he did it and that she had always spoken of him fondly.

“Why must you follow this vision? You have said yourself that the future can change. What if marrying him does no good?”

She held his face. “It has to. The fate of the world depends on it.”

Images flickered, the setting changing. Speaking along the river just outside Ames were Igon and Immeron.

Immeron’s hair was just as dark as Igon’s, his face just as handsome, though his blue eyes were wary as he looked at his brother.

“She’s to become Queen of Otacia? You’re sure of it?” Immeron asked wide-eyed.

“Indeed.” He turned to him. “They cannot know her real name or where she really came from. Your gift of memory manipulation would come in handy.”

Memory manipulation?!

Immeron frowned. “How much manipulation are we talking about?”

“Come with Kayin and me to the castle. Make them believe she is a princess from one of the other kingdoms—Eretesia shall do.” He gripped his brother’s shoulder. “And another thing, those in Ames cannot know.”

Immeron froze. “You can’t be asking—”

“I want the people of Ames to forget about Kayin and me. I will come back and reintroduce myself. But they must forget her. She must become Ryia. Embrace this new identity fully. ”

“What of her friends? Of Quill?” He paused. “Of me? The boys, they—”

Melancholy shone in Igon’s eyes.

Immeron scoffed in disbelief. “You want us to forget her, too.”

“I would never ask you to forget her. But she could never come up—ever. If somehow she got discovered, her life would be in danger. The boys are too little to keep such a secret…”

“Then we will leave. Live elsewhere. I am not forgetting anyone.”

Igon blinked, his brows lowering before the entirety of his eyes glowed white.

I'd never witnessed what it looked like for him to get a vision.

“Igon,” Immeron whispered. “What did you see?”

The glow in Igon's eyes faded, and Igon gave Immeron a sad smile.

“Somnum.”

Immeron’s eyes rolled back, and he sank to the grassy ground at the spell Igon chanted.

Igon grasped a dagger in his hand and slowly dragged it against Immeron’s arm, then took out a vial, collecting his blood.

Using his dagger, he carved symbols into his own flesh, wincing at the pain. When complete, he poured his brother's blood over his wounds. Purple glowed from his palm as he held it over the cuts. “Coniungere.”

His eyes flitted to his sleeping sibling. “Forgive me, my brother. You must forget.”

He held his palms over his brother's head, closing his eyes tightly, before rushing away.

Igon knew incantation magic. What exactly did he just do ?

Images then flickered, the setting changing more rapidly. Kayin reached Otacia and met Ulric at his betrothal ball. Ulric was already king, considering his father had died when he was eighteen.

He was far less intimidating with a clean-shaven face, but as much as I despised the man, his beauty could not be denied.

These visions were quicker. We witnessed the marriage being secured and the moments of their wedding, along with her crying before and after.

She was in the throne room beside Ulric now, perhaps months later, when a man was brought forward.

Kayin's eyes widened at the sight of him.

The man kneeled before them. “My name is Quill Callon. I am here to offer my services to the royal family."

Ulric scoffed. “Plenty of people wish to aid the La'Rune's.” He tilted his head. “What do you have to offer?”

Quill swallowed. “I am an excellent trainer.”

Ulric's smile turned sinister.

Swirling again.

Ulric himself was battling with Quill, an initiation of sorts. Kayin nervously observed from the sides, attempting to appear not so.

Quill wasn't lying. He was exceptionally talented, particularly in the use of a sword. But beating Ulric entirely would humiliate the King. He had the upper hand right up until the end when he allowed Ulric to knock him right on his ass, blade just inches from his nose.

Ulric smirked. “Very well, Quill Callon. You may join the Royal Guard. ”

Memories bled into memories, and now we were in a spare room in the castle.

“Quill—” the Queen began before Quill took her in an embrace and kissed her.

“Nothing can keep me away from you, Kayin,” he whispered. “Even if I have to stand by and watch you be with him, start a family—” He choked on a sob. “I will always be here for you. Even if only as a friend.”

She kissed him again and again, and the vision changed.

“You’re…pregnant,” Quill said, almost disbelieving. Kayin sat in a velvet chair and nodded as she stared out of the window, her legs nestled close.

“It feels as though he is strong and healthy,” she mumbled.

“You know it’s a boy?”

“I have seen him in my visions.” She smiled softly.

“Is he…is he mine?”

Her smile faded, her eyes falling to her lap as tears spilled down her cheeks. “No.”

It was almost as if this next vision didn't work; it was a jumbled flash, so many I couldn't decipher. Chills raced through my body as our surroundings finally settled. We were in the mountains, somewhere I didn't recognize.

The wind whipped around Ryia as she held the hood pulled over her head. Her rounded belly was prominent.

Stepping outside of the mountains in dark leather were Warlocks—hundreds of them.

“My name is Kayin Natarion,” she announced. “And I need a favor.”

The Warlocks studied her with distrust. “Why should we help a Mage? ”

“Because,” Igon advised, walking up beside her, “Ravaiana demands it.”

In the blink of an eye, we were back in Castle La'Rune. Once again, the memories flashed quickly, and the picture was unclear.

Why aren't we seeing everything?

“That boy is something else,” Quill laughed, he and Kayin watching Silas play with a wooden sword. He was so little…absolutely adorable. But that meant there was a four-year gap in memory.

“I am pregnant again, Quill,” she whispered.

His eyes shot to her.

“And I know she has magic. I feel it. I know this time that she is yours.” Her eyes met his, and he swallowed. Ryia began to cry, clasping her palm over her mouth to quiet herself. I could tell Quill wanted to comfort her, but there were too many eyes around that would see. It seemed that Quill had become Ryia's aide, no longer just a member of the Royal Guard.

“What does this mean, Ryia?”

“It means…you will have to leave." She ran her hand down her belly. "And you will need to take her with you.”

“What?” he hissed.

“Not only is she in danger because she’s a Mage, but you…if Ulric finds out—”

“He won’t.” Quill's grey eyes were pinned on her. “We’ve kept it a secret this long.”

“She will need you.” She sniffed. “She will need her father to raise her.”

Quill choked on an incredulous scoff. “And what of Silas? Whether he is my blood or not, he is my son. ”

She clenched her jaw. “I wish you could take him, too,” she said quietly. “But he must stay with me.”

The vision changed. Ryia was kissing baby Aria on the cheek. The baby's appearance had been glamoured to hide her pointed ears.

She placed her in a basket, then kissed Quill softly. “Get to Daranois. Ask for Enid. She will get you to Oquerene.” She pulled him into a tight hug. “I will miss you forever,” she breathed.

“You act as if you’ll never see me again.” His smile fell at her silence. “You…won’t?”

She shook her head, tears falling as she cried harder.

“No…no, do not say that.” He held her close. “Don’t lose hope, Kay,” he whispered, stroking her head. “The future can always change.”

Memories flickered: Quill escaping with Aria; the panic that ensued when Aria's dead body—which we now knew was a false copy—was found in the Northern Woods. We heard the talking amongst the royals, of how Silas would be held in the castle to ensure his safety.

I was shocked when Amatta appeared, strolling up to Ryia. “I come from Kalrael. Quill wishes for me to keep an eye on you. To ensure your safety.”

Ryia raised a brow. “Kalrael?” Then it dawned on her. “Amatta Callon…Quill's sister.”

Amatta's smile grew. “I haven't seen him since he left to be with you in Ames. But he sent word.”

Ryia pulled her into a hug.

My eyes nervously went to Silas, whose hand was covering his mouth.

We were getting closer now. Was it really Amatta who killed his mother? Was Kayin actually dead?

Regardless, one thing was certain.

Amatta was not a Mage. She was a human.

More memories passed us. Igon ordered a young Torrin Brighthell to go to Otacia—we witnessed the moment he was sworn into the Royal Guard.

“I will need you to give a blood oath,” Ryia demanded, only she, Torrin, and Amatta in the throne room.

“Of course,” seventeen-year-old Torrin agreed, holding out his palm. Ryia slid a dagger across his flesh and collected his blood in a vial. Torrin asked no questions; Igon must have told him to expect that to happen.

The next second, we were in Ryia's quarters.

“What's the blood oath for?” Amatta asked, tying back her brown hair.

“The boy is a Mage,” Ryia answered, and Amatta’s eyebrows raised. “A telepath, to be exact."

Ryia took her dagger, etching those same markings into her skin as her father did when he was with Immeron.

“W-what are you doing?” Amatta asked nervously.

Ryia poured Torrin's blood over her wounds, enclosing her glowing purple palm over them.

“Coniungere.”

Ryia gave Amatta a smile.

“Utilizing his gift,” she responded in Amatta's mind.

Holy fuck.

I turned to Torrin, his brown eyes saucers.

“My Gods…that's how she was able to speak with us.”

Our surroundings were shifting again, and now we were in Silas's room.

A lump formed in my throat. He was wearing the outfit he wore the day I met him.

“I'm granting you one day outside the walls,” she told him cautiously, his eyes lighting up. “I want you to be a kind leader, a compassionate one, one day. Do not stray from the Inner Ring, though. I don't want to risk you getting caught. I've stationed the guards along this side elsewhere, so be quick. And be back by 10:30.”

Silas beamed at her. “Thank you, Mother.” I watched as he rushed to his balcony.

Amatta entered a few moments later. “How can you be sure he won't be recognized?”

Ryia shot her a smirk. “I placed a spell on him in his sleep. The second he is outside the castle border, he becomes invisible to the eyes of the guard.”

Holy Gods.

It made so much sense now why he wasn't even questioned when he killed that man in Serpent's Cove. It wasn't because he was seemingly from the Inner Ring. It was because they couldn't see him.

My heartbeat quickened the moment I saw him and me.

I saw myself get pushed to the ground by that girl, the others laughing at me. I saw myself rise to my feet and get my bag snatched. I saw myself charge toward her, holding that dagger to the girl's neck after she took a bite of a pastry.

This was it. The moment everyone would know our secret.

Silas charged forward. “Hey!” he growled.

My sixteen-year-old eyes flew to his, and Silas's glare shot to the girl. “See what happens when you take what isn't yours?”

The whole encounter played, Silas getting her to return my bag, only to toss it to the ground, shattering the vial inside.

My friends studied the memories before them with wide eyes, seeing everything.

Past me shook my head. “I'm sorry, I didn't even ask your name. I'm Lena Daelyra,” I held out my hand. “And you?”

He examined my hand. “Quill. Quill Callon,” he replied, bringing my hand up to his and kissing it.

We watched as my mother panicked when I told her I'd just handed our orders over to him. I cringed as they saw me cry in my room.

They watched as Silas came back, handing over the money, and watched as he went with me to fetch the sage needed for her elixir. They saw us deliver the remaining two orders and saw him grasp my hand, rushing me down the steps of the Outer Ring just in time before the curfew kicked in, giggling at the ridiculousness of it all.

They watched as we made our deal that he'd train me.

They heard the first time he called me Flower.

We were now back in the castle.

“So? How was it?” Ryia asked.

Silas wore a grand smile. “It was amazing. The best day of my life.”

I smiled at that.

Ryia's grin faded. “It was only one time, Silas.”

His smile disappeared, too. “But I have to go back. I…I have to.”

“I'm sorry, Silas. But the answer is no.”

I remember this next vision—it was the day after, the day Ryia visited the Outer Ring.

I watched as Ryia's gaze caught mine, as she stilled in place.

“This girl I saw in the Outer Ring,” Ryia said to Amatta as our surroundings flashed back to the castle. A smile crept over the Queen's face. “She will be the one my son loves. His Soul-Tie.”

“What?” Amatta breathed.

“She is a Mage,” Ryia whispered, grasping her silver and sapphire necklace. Visions of Silas and I training in the Western Forest began to play as she spoke. “A powerful one. Or, I should say she will be. Her power…it is unlike anything anyone has ever seen.”

Flashes of us kissing in Amethyst Pond played, and I felt my face go hot.

“Silas, have you met anyone?” Ryia asked in the next vision.

“What makes you ask that?” Silas mumbled while fidgeting with his shirt.

The Queen grinned. “Just wondering.”

Our entire group witnessed Silas and me at the Summer Solstice festival, dancing in each other's embrace. It cut to us kissing, but thankfully, the rest of the night didn't show.

Everyone saw the moment I followed him, getting captured by Torrin. They witnessed the moment I found out who he really was.

It was heartbreaking seeing Silas in his room after I had left, his mother sitting beside him on the bed.

“What changed?” Silas asked, turning to face her. “That first day out I thought would be my last. Even when I told you about Lena, only speaking about her as a friend, you didn’t seem to mind. It just goes against everything I have been told. I am so glad for it, but that doesn’t make it any less puzzling.”

She gave him a soft smile, placing a hand on his cheek. “It’s one of those things I know are meant to be.”

Sixteen-year-old Silas returned her expression. “No one can know if anything is meant to be.”

The year passed. Every one of my friends witnessed how Silas and I became closer. They watched us continue to train. They watched as I attended his birthday ball on the night of his mother's death.

The answers were here now.

We were all in Ryia's room.

“Your Majesty, what’s wrong?” Amatta asked, rushing to her side.

Ryia was trembling, tears pouring out of her solid white eyes, a glow emitting from them.

“No…no…” She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut tight.

First, she sent a message to Torrin.

Find Lena in two days. In the night. Go to Ames.

Then, her message to me.

Lena.

The vision showed us both—our surroundings side by side.

“Talk about a rude awakening.”

Change is coming, Lena—horrible, awful change. Find Torrin in two days. In the night. Go to Ames.

“Your Majesty—” Amatta began.

I sat up in my bed.

“What? Leave Otacia? Why?”

Ryia was shaking. Torrin will help with what needs to be done. When it is time to leave, find him. He will ensure you make it to Ames safely.

“What needs to be done? What is going to happen? ”

Blood began pouring out of her nose.

“Kayin?”

It must happen in order to save Magekind. We will speak again in time.

Ryia's eyes flung open, severing our connection. Her face crumpled as she wiped her nose. “My son…my poor son,” she cried. Shaking, she rushed to her drawer to find it empty and let out a curse. “I…I can’t let him do this to him…my boy—”

The door slowly crept open. Ryia glanced over her shoulder, and Amatta froze.

Ulric walked in slowly, holding a stack of letters.

His dark eyes were livid, his face contorted. “Oh, Ryia…what have you done?” he growled.

She swallowed, bracing her back against the dresser.

“Amatta, go,” Ryia ordered, but as she went to obey, Ulric grasped her, tossing her so hard into the wall her head cracked, and she slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Kayin went to freeze him with her magic, but the King anticipated the move. He plunged a dagger kept at his side into her chest.

She choked, crying out at the pain, eyes wide and tearful as she beheld her husband's blade piercing her.

The vision swirled into nothing.

We were all silent.

“Holy shit,” Roland breathed.

When I looked over at Silas, I saw him trembling, tears falling down his face, both hands covering his mouth.

I didn't watch what happened next, but I heard it. Heard Amatta's screams as Silas lit her on fire. I only slid my gaze over to watch his reaction to that final night together.

“You will not give up. You will not break. ”

Tears spilled down his face as he saw me get my ice, watching as I wailed in agony over the fact that I was leaving him.

I expected it to continue playing my memories now that Kayin was gone.

But I was wrong.

My brows furrowed. We were in a cell of some sort, though I had no idea where.

Kayin lay, groaning at the stab wound in her chest.

This was the night we escaped. She had not died two evenings prior. She was still alive.

“What is this?” Kayin seethed, gesturing to her bound wrists.

The cuffs…those dreaded cuffs. The ones she wore appeared to be an older model, more clunky in design but able to erase magic all the same.

“Something that has been in the works for a while,” he commented, grimacing at her from the other side of her cell.

“You really hate Magekind this much, Ulric?” she spat. “Why?”

“What I hate more than anything at this moment is you, dear Ryia.” He grasped the bars of the enclosure. “You slept around with human trash and made me believe those children were my own.”

Her brows went together. “Silas is yours!” she barked.

Ulric released a guffaw. “You stupid bitch.” His dark glare was sickening. Kayin shrunk into the corner of her cell, and the King’s cruel smile only grew. “I would’ve believed it, as I thought he and I shared some physical features. But you miscalculated, Ryia. I figured out Silas wasn’t mine the moment I read those letters.” He tilted his head to the side. “Do you know why?”

She shook her head, glowering at him with hatred.

Ulric lifted his hand, tilting it ever so slightly.

No .

No.

No.

Kayin’s eyes widened in horror as Ulric removed his glamour, showcasing his pointed cartilage.

“You…” she breathed, eyes rounded, head shaking. “How…”

“I guess you and I were both harboring secrets. I knew Silas couldn't be my son the second I read those letters, knowing that if he were mine, he would've been a Mage like us. I was disappointed he didn’t receive my magic at first, but now, knowing he isn’t my blood…” He cocked his head to the side, a sadistic grin stretching across his face. “I am going to break him, Ryia.”

She choked on a sob, “Ulric… please, he is yours, I swear—”

“Ask the question, darling.”

She shook, swallowing hard. “Why?” she bit out.

Kayin’s eyes drifted to the side, and her muffled cry sent chills down my body. Amatta’s burnt corpse limped into the cellar, her eyes solid black.

“Do you understand now, Ryia? Do you know what I am?”

“You…” she respired. “You’re a necromancer?”

He grinned, his eyes turning that solid black. “I am a God.”