Chapter 13

“Lunira, did you feel that?” Ash asked.

“Feel what?”

“Something just, just feels different. I’m not sure.” She said, her irises seeming to glow now.

"She's feeling something. A shift. I can feel it too," Sorrow whispered in the back of my mind, his tone as heavy as ever. "It's faint, but undeniable."

For the last year and a half, we’d been in hiding. The rest of my pantheon, charged by Kranon, had been seeking out followers of me and Lunira. We harbored them occasionally but mostly kept to ourselves to avoid their wrath.

"Hiding. That’s what we’ve been reduced to," Wrath spat. "Cowering in the shadows like prey. This is what comes of mercy, Xyros. What comes of weakness."

"I’m not having this conversation right now," I thought back. "Ash and Lunira have been working hard. They’ll find something."

"And if they don’t?" Wrath challenged. "You could take back your power if you stopped playing human and reminded these fools who you are."

"Quiet," I snapped. Humor snickered in response.

"Easy, big guy," Humor said. "You’re starting to sound like Wrath over there. Maybe spend some time with Sorrow—he loves sulking too."

Ash had found Lunira several months after my fall, and the both of them found me not long after that. We stayed in Ordant, Aeran, a city in the far west corner of Aeran, near both Verdana and Chasmvale.

Lunira and Ash had been researching the lost blades extensively, trying to find anything—anything—to bring my power back. We’d learned that there were originally seven, held by the original kings of Terradine. They were direct children of Nyx, born after me and my siblings.

The original kings were Jesya, Kria, Unak, Zeypheron, Veyr, Rion, and Belak. Each held what our historians called Godblades. Nobody knows how they were forged. They were tied to the souls of the kings, having been lost when the kings died in conflict.

"Ah yes, the legendary Godblades," Wisdom said, his voice calm and measured. "Weapons of immense power forged for those who could wield them responsibly. Certainly not for reckless fools like you."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I muttered under my breath, earning a side glance from Lunira.

Ash’s eyes were glowing now, bright blue. “Father, I have to go.”

“Go?” I asked, “Go where?”

“Something, something is uhh...” She trailed off, a few seconds later, “Off.”

"Vague. Helpful," Humor quipped. "She’s got your gift for detail, I see."

Ash left without looking back my way. “Shit,” I said, looking at Lunira.

“What are we to do?” she asked.

“Follow her,” Ada said as she walked into the door. Braided blonde hair atop her head, and flowing down. She’d been gathering some writings of old about another type of blade in history—soul blades.

“Well alrighty then,” I said, Lunira and Ada trailing me out the door.

"Follow her, like lost little lambs," Wrath sneered. "When was the last time you led, Xyros? Truly led?"

I ignored him, my focus on the glowing blue eyes of my daughter as she strode ahead. We followed Ash through the winding streets of Ordant, her glowing eyes a beacon in the darkness. Her pace was urgent, purposeful, as though something unseen pulled her forward.

"Ash!" I called out, trying to catch her attention, but she didn’t respond, her focus unwavering.

Lunira caught up to me, her dark hair framing a face drawn tight with worry. "Something’s wrong. She’s too connected to... whatever this is."

"I know," I muttered, my steps quickening. "I’ve never seen her like this before."

Ada, bringing up the rear, clutched an old tome to her chest, her blonde braids swaying as she moved. "What if she’s sensing something—someone—new?"

We didn’t have time to discuss it. Ash turned abruptly down an alley that opened into a quiet square, the dim light of a dying lantern casting long shadows. At the center of the square stood a group of six figures, their postures wary, their weapons barely concealed.

"Enemies," Wrath growled. "Or worse."

I stopped short, Lunira and Ada halting beside me. "Who the hell are they?" I muttered.

Ash stepped forward, her glowing eyes fixed on the group. "They’re not from here," she said softly.

The tallest of the six—a boy with brown and blue eyes—spoke first, his voice even but cautious. "Who’s asking?"

Lunira moved up beside Ash, her presence commanding. "We are. You’re far from home, aren’t you?"

The group exchanged glances, clearly nervous. A girl from the back stepped forward. I hadn’t really noticed her before, but her eyes were glowing bright green, as bright as Ash’s blue. Her face was obscured by a hood, but something was definitely off.

"Another child of death," Sorrow murmured, his tone tinged with curiosity. "But... broken, somehow."

“I am Nova, daughter of Hel and Thanatos. A child of death.”

“I am Ash, daughter of Xyros and Taika. Another child of death.” Both their eyes glowed brightly, and they stood there for a moment.

"Two sides of the same coin," Wisdom noted. "But which is the edge, and which is the face?"

“Who are you?” Ash asked.

“I’d like to ask you the same thing,” Nova replied. She let down her hood, revealing her face. It was a dreadful mix of beauty and horror—skeletal and ghostly on the right side, normal on the left.

"Charming," Humor whispered dryly. "She’d kill at a masquerade ball."

I pushed their voices down, watching the two girls warily. Whatever this connection was, it felt dangerous—and inevitable.