Page 29 of Unseen Eye (Aetherian Chronicles #1)

The scene shifts from dead silence to utter chaos in the blink of an eye. Arguments explode among the nobles, their voices rising in a cacophony of disbelief, fear, and confusion. It’s as if someone flipped a switch—everything unraveling in an instant.

Garet and Leigh are pale, their usual confidence drained away by the mysterious woman’s sudden appearance. Even Baron is rattled, standing rigid as he barks orders at Drystan, whose face remains an unreadable mask.

I stand there, my legs barely holding me up, still reeling from the woman’s presence. The tension radiating from Callon is palpable; his grip on his sword is tight, his body as tense as a drawn bow. His eyes flicker to Izzy, who approaches him cautiously, concern etched deeply in her features.

Their conversation is low, almost drowned out by the escalating bickering around us. I catch only fragments of their words: “prophecy,” “significance.” At one point, Izzy mutters something like, “—at least we know who the ‘she’ is.”

I watch them for a moment, my mind spinning with questions, all of them tangled around the woman’s sudden disappearance. Garet strides toward me, his face a portrait of worry—so different from the cocky bravado he wore just an hour ago.

“Eva,” he says gently, his voice soft but insistent, “it was just some crazy ramblings. They don’t mean anything. You don’t have to listen to any of it. It’s got to be some kind of trick.”

I meet his eyes, searching for comfort in his words, but all I feel is fear clawing at my insides. “But what if they do mean something, Garet? What if—”

Before I can finish, Callon steps in, his face hard with frustration. “Quit coddling her for once!” he snaps, his voice cutting through the clamor. “She’s a grown woman. She can make her own damn decisions.”

Garet freezes, a flash of fury crossing his face as his protective instincts flare. “She’s been through enough. She doesn’t need this right now.”

“And you think coddling her is helping?” Callon’s words are sharp, biting.

“Look at her—she hasn’t slept. She’s barely holding it together.

Great job ‘protecting’ her from the truth.

Now you’re playing the big damn hero? One hour ago, you were ready to fight her. Why? Because your father told you to?”

Garet’s face goes pale, but his fists clench tighter. “We don’t even know if that was a Fate. No one’s ever seen one before.”

Callon scoffs, eyes narrowing with disdain. “Are you sure you have any common sense? Because I’ve yet to see any.”

Garet’s voice cracks with anger. “Are you always this heartless? I’m guessing you are—considering you have no problem living with yourself after murdering Eamon.”

The words land like a slap to the face.

The world seems to stop for a moment. A hush falls over the crowd.

I feel the weight of Garet’s accusation. The surrounding chaos is drowned out, replaced by the thumping of my pulse in my ears.

Oh shit.

Callon steps closer, his eyes fixed on Garet, clearly not ready to drop this yet. “How much does she even know, Garet? How much did you deem important enough to tell her?” His voice drips with anger, each word a dagger.

Garet opens his mouth to respond, but Izzy steps forward, her glare directed at him. “Probably nothing,” she says sharply. Turning to me, her expression softens slightly. “Eva, do you know what a Fate is?”

Confusion swirls within me, mingling with a growing sense of fear. “I’ve heard stories,” I admit, my voice trembling. “But I don’t know what’s true.”

Izzy nods, her eyes flicking briefly to Callon before settling back on me.

“Fates are ancient beings, almost mythical. For one to appear like that, and recite a prophecy… it’s significant.

Very significant.” She pauses for a moment.

“They weave the threads of destiny, guiding and influencing the lives of mortals. The Fates haven’t been seen or heard from since the Great War. ”

Goose bumps line my arms as the reality of the situation sinks in. “Why would she appear to us?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Callon says, his anger still simmering.

Garet’s face flushes with a mix of guilt and frustration. “I was trying to protect her, Callon. She’s been through so much already.”

“Protect her?” Callon scoffs. “By keeping her in the dark? By not preparing her for what’s to come? She deserves to know the truth. All of it.”

“Stop it!” I scream, the words tearing from my throat. My voice cuts through the air, sharp and raw. Both freeze, turning to me, surprise flashing across their faces.

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here!” I shout, my chest heaving. “I have a name. It’s Eva. And if you’ve got something to say about me, say it to my face!”

The group falls silent, the tension thickening even more. Callon looks taken aback for a moment, then nods slightly, acknowledging my outburst.

Izzy smiles. “She’s got a tongue on her.”

“Tell me about it,” Callon mutters, earning a sharp look from Garet.

Ending the conversation, Callon strides over to where Drystan and Baron are still locked in a heated argument. Garet follows closely behind, leaving me standing with Izzy.

Izzy sighs, shaking her head. “I’ve never understood the whole thing with the Fates,” she admits, her voice tinged with frustration. “Are you okay?”

I nod slowly, my mind spinning. I can’t help but think of how much easier it would be to pretend that everything’s fine, to bury my doubts like I used to. But it’s harder now. “I don’t know what to believe,” I finally say, my voice faltering. “Do you think there’s any truth to what the woman said?”

Izzy gives a small smile, her expression softening.

“Honestly? I think there’s a kernel of truth in most legends, but people twist them to suit their needs.

What that woman said was... unsettling, to say the least. But I don’t think it means your future is set in stone.

You’ve got a say in it, Eva. Don’t let them make you think otherwise. ”

She watches me closely, her gaze gentle but concerned. “I know this is a lot to take in,” she says softly.

Her words stir something deep inside me.

The idea of truth feels like something I can’t quite grasp, slipping through my fingers the moment I try to hold it.

I swallow hard, trying to focus, but all I can think about is Kendry.

“I don’t even know anymore,” I admit. “Kendry, my...” I stumble to find the words, “he lied about everything. He was the one constant in my life, the one person I thought I could trust. I still miss him, even after everything.” I laugh bitterly, though it doesn’t feel like humor.

“It’s like I’m stuck in this place between hating him for what he did and wanting him here to explain it all. ”

Izzy’s expression softens, and she steps closer, her voice quiet, as if she’s choosing her words carefully. “I get it. It’s hard when you’ve been lied to, especially by someone you trusted. But that doesn’t mean you have to keep carrying that weight.”

She turns her head, watching the royals arguing. Callon stands off to the side, arms crossed, leaning against the wall, his expression unreadable.

After a moment, she continues, her voice quieter this time, “Cal’s been in a nasty mood for the last few days. So bad that Theo decided not to come tonight—he needed a break.”

Before I can ask what she means, Callon stops mid-sentence, his head snapping to the side, as if he’s heard something. Izzy straightens beside me, her eyes narrowing. “Fucking great,” she mutters, her voice laced with dread. “I know that look.”

Callon’s voice rings out urgently. “We are under attack!”

Baron glares at Callon, his hand hovering dangerously near his sword hilt. “You must be mistaken,” he says, his voice tight with disbelief. “The capital hasn’t been attacked in years. If it were, the guards at the wall would have alerted us by now.”

“Not if they’re all dead,” Callon counters smoothly, his voice sharp as a blade. His eyes lock onto Baron’s, daring him to challenge the truth any further.

Drystan leans back with a mocking smirk, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “You can ignore Callon’s instincts if you want, Baron, but I suggest you don’t.”

Before Baron can muster a response, the distant shouts of panic reach our ears, confirming Callon’s grim assertion. The color drains from Baron’s face as the reality of the situation hits him like a punch to the gut.

“If you ask nicely,” Callon taunts, his voice cold and cutting, “we might stay behind and help you fight.”

“Heartless monster!” someone in the crowd yells. “He probably brought them here himself!”

Callon doesn’t even spare them a glance.

Baron scans the scene, his eyes calculating. After a long, agonizing pause, he looks at Drystan and mutters, “Please?”

Drystan’s smirk widens. “Much better. Was that so hard?” He stands tall and raises his voice. “Coire, weapons at the ready!”

Izzy’s hand tightens on my arm, her expression now one of fierce determination. “This is about to get messy.”

Despite the turmoil around us, I can’t stop myself from asking, “How did Callon know about the attack?”

She glances at me, eyes narrowing in focus as she answers quickly, barely skipping a beat.

“It’s his affinity,” she explains, voice steady.

“Callon can sense and manipulate ley lines—channels of aether that run through the land. He taps into these flows of energy, bending them to his will. Basically, he can control raw magic itself, shaping it however he needs. He likes to think it makes him a badass.”

Izzy’s lips twist into a brief, strained smile. “Makes him useful, though. Annoyingly useful.”

Well, that explains a hell of a lot.