The Queen of the Dawn, page 38
part #5 of Shadows and Crowns Series
Chapter 36
When the world stilled and the magic faded, Elander found himself kneeling among broken ground, his heart racing and lungs aching. The residue from the explosion of energy he’d endured was clearing. The strange portal that had ripped through the air had closed. Everything had an indescribable feeling of after. They had reached it—or something close to it—and he was somehow still alive.
But his wife was gone.
How?
She had been right there. They had been on the edge of victory, he’d felt it—the Dark God’s power slipping away, the very world itself shifting. Casia had still been standing after the first of those shifts. She’d moved away to catch her breath, to look to the sky, he’d let her go, and then…
He replayed those final moments over in his head until he found the strength to get to his feet. He circled the area, squinting through air that was hazy from a combination of smoke and early morning fog.
Voices, muffled in the gloom, rose around him.
People were moving nearby. Battles resuming, arguments breaking out, confused orders being shouted.
He readied his sword, unsure of what to expect as he continued to move through the murkiness. His grip on the sword was half-hearted; he didn’t want to keep fighting. The world felt strange, distant and…finished. No battle felt worth it if she was truly gone.
She couldn’t truly be gone.
He walked over the cracked ground, winding his way through still bodies, discarded weapons, fallen banners. He should have been numb to the destruction by this point, but instead he was reliving every walk he’d made through similar battlefields. All the things they’d fought their way through, all the blood spilled and losses they’d endured, just to reach the ending without her…
This can’t be right.
He spotted Soryn. As soon as she caught sight of him, she quickly finished the conversation she was having with one of her soldiers and rushed to his side.
“That light minutes ago…” she began, voice wavering slightly and eyes searching their surroundings before finally fixing on him. “Where is the queen?”
The question was nearly his undoing.
There is nowhere you could go that I can’t find you.
It had been the answer for so long that he’d taken it for granted. But now he couldn’t find her, couldn’t sense her life or her magic, no matter how hard he tried. So he could only shake his head at Soryn’s question.
I don’t know.
His grip on Caden’s sword loosened further as more of their allies caught up to them. Everyone had seen—and most of them had felt—the light pouring toward Casia and her sword. Most of them had seen the portal opening too, the way it had violently slashed the world apart, and the strange darkness that had reached out and pulled her in.
No one had seen her since what they believed was that last, desperate strike of the Dark God’s existence.
One by one they looked to Elander, silently questioning him as Soryn had.
Over and over he had to explain that he could no longer feel Casia or her power. That his own magic felt dulled. Still there, buried beneath layers of grief, but pointless. No matter how many times he summoned it, hers didn’t answer.
The others joined him in searching, picking their way through the battlefield, breaking up the last of the clashing soldiers, circling around and attempting to find balance under the weight of what had happened. The grief Elander felt was soon reflected on all their faces. All around them, the battle was coming to a close, but the cost of that closure was becoming harder and harder to deny.
They gathered together and continued to move through the aftermath as one united group—Elander, Laurent, Zev, Nessa, and Soryn. Silverfoot bounced from one lifeless body to another, sniffing and whining. More soldiers joined them as they walked, trying to sort through the wreckage, trying to decide where to go from here.
Soryn paused on a crest of hill overlooking a large swath of still-smoldering field—evidence that the Fire God and his beasts had ravaged it only a short time ago.
“So many beasts, just…disappeared along with the Rook God and his magic,” Soryn said, her tone equal parts wonder and concern. “And my magic feels changed. Not gone, but altered. Dulled, as Elander said. And the magic-users I’ve spoken with have all said the same thing. It’s the reason so many have retreated, I think…they’re unsettled, unsure.”
“Because who knows what happens next,” Nessa said, stumbling a bit as her gaze caught on a group of soldiers still fighting in the distance. Laurent put an arm around her shoulder and they all continued to walk, still searching for answers as they went.
The search yielded no sign of Casia. No gods or goddesses either. The battlefield had been reduced to a wasteland of unstable energies and scattered, confused mortals.
A familiar fear gripped Elander—the fear that she had actually transcended this plane long ago. That her fate had become intertwined too tightly with the gods, with the divine blade and the task the Sun Goddess had given her. Now that task seemed to be over, and so this world had let her go.
And all he could think about in that moment was how he wished he’d been taken with her.
But he was still here, and the world had not stopped, even though it felt like it should have. So he was still walking, though he was no longer paying much attention to where he was going—not until Laurent drew to a stop and the rest of their group followed his lead.
“The majority of our enemies seem to have chosen retreat for the moment,” said Laurent.
“They could regroup and return at any time,” Soryn pointed out. “We still have plenty to worry about, and things are far from resolved.”
There was a murmur of agreement.
Soryn swept a gaze around at everyone, calculating, hesitating the longest on Elander as she added, “Wherever Casia is, she would want us to keep moving until things were more settled.”
Elander could not deny this.
But while Soryn and the soldiers around them dispersed, Elander kept still. Laurent, Nessa, and Zev stayed by his side for several minutes, but eventually they too carried on, off to continue to search, to grieve, to work through this devastation in whatever way they could.
Once they had all gone, Elander lifted his hand and tried one last time to summon magic that Casia might be able to feel.
He felt a faint flicker of warmth a moment later.
He turned toward the direction it had come from. He hesitated, terrified of what he might find if he followed it, but ultimately unable to keep himself from moving. If there was any chance…
When he reached the source of the warmth, he didn’t find Casia, but he did stumble upon something familiar: Her sword had somehow come back without her—though only parts of it. Pieces of it that were different from the broken ones her friends had gathered; these were newly shattered, the remains of the handle and jagged steel she’d stabbed into Malaphar. He knelt and felt his way through the cold dirt, trying to gather all of the pieces.
It was in so many fragments it was hardly recognizable, and he only remained certain of what it was because he could sense the faint warmth emanating from it…and because the Heart of the Sun, the once-centerpiece of the fragmented pommel, was also resting in the dirt nearby.
He crawled toward the Heart and picked it up. Ran his fingers over the shattered jewels, the cracked face. Closed it in his fist and let its sharp, broken edges press into the mark the Savnas blade had burned into his palm. It pulsed one final time before its beat faded away completely.
He settled back on his heels, still holding tightly to the Heart.
The clouds were clearing, and the smoke and the fog were finally lifting, revealing a dawn sky splashed with every shade of red and orange imaginable. It had truly arrived, as bright and brilliant as they’d hoped for.
He looked at his palm, at the symbol upon it, remembering the vows they’d spoken. The Heart resting against that symbol still did not beat. But his search was not over. He had sworn he would find her again, regardless of what separated them.
And no matter how long it took him, that was what he was going to do.
Chapter 37
Cas could not open her eyes. Not for a very long time—not until she felt a hand brushing against her cheek and heard a voice that sounded vaguely familiar. Warmth swirled through her at the sound of this voice, and her eyes fluttered open long enough to see herself floating in what seemed to be a vast expanse of night sky, showers of shimmering gold and silver starlight cascading down around her.
She looked down, but saw no ground.
She reached a hand up to her face, intending to try and pinch herself awake, but her fingers felt nothing solid to close around.
It all made no sense to her exhausted mind, so she curled tightly into herself and went back to sleep.
When she finally managed to wake from her strange dream, she was alone, resting in a patch of soft grass.
A shard of her sword was clenched in her fist, digging in so tightly that it had caused a cut in the center of her palm. Dried blood covered the wedding symbol she shared with Elander. It covered the broken steel as well, and she didn’t know where the rest of the sword had gone.
She didn’t know where she had gone, for that matter.
Something moved behind her.
She fought against her weariness, lifting her head and twisting around.
A woman stood waiting for her, wrapped in robes of white and gold. Her dark skin shimmered like the night sky and falling light from Cas’s dream. Ivory wings were folded against her back, their delicate feathers fluttering in the warm breeze she herself seemed to be creating.
The name left Cas on a soft, reverent breath. “Solatis.”
The goddess smiled.
Cas took in more of her surroundings, fearing—as she had the last time she’d come face-to-face with this awe-inspiring being—that she was dead.
But if this was an afterlife of some sort, it was remarkably plain; nothing but green grass and pale blue sky stretched as far as she could see.
“What is this place?” she asked.
“Galathdiel.” Solatis’s voice was pure and bright, like early-morning birdsong chasing away the last thoughts of sleep. “A gateway into the upper-heavens. A place for gods, not mortals.”
Cas sat up more fully, pressing her fingers to her temple and shaking her head. “I am not a god.”
Solatis laughed softly, her golden eyes shining as though Cas had just given her an answer to a question she’d spent an eternity pondering. “No, you aren’t. I’ve brought you here as a temporary respite. A split decision, forced by the final, desperate act of the God of Shades… He tried very hard to pull you into the hellish realm you pushed him into, and had he succeeded…” She breathed in deep. Smiled again. “But he didn’t. You resisted him one last time—and then I intervened. You are here because it was easier to bring you to this place on short notice, as opposed to sending you back to the mortal realm.”
“Easier?”
“The veil between this realm and the one Malaphar now moves within is weaker than the one between here and the mortal realm. Especially now, after what you’ve done to protect that mortal realm.”
What had she done?
Cas couldn’t remember all of it. She only knew that she felt exhausted and pulled apart, restless even here in this peaceful place, as though parts of her had been left elsewhere.
Solatis offered her hand. “Let’s take a walk, shall we?”
Cas let the goddess pull her to her feet. She followed her through the soft grass, her strength bolstered by that warm air surrounding the goddess. Solatis didn’t speak for several minutes, as if giving Cas a chance to fully soak up the warmth and regain her energy.
“Do you know why I truly saved you at the end of your past life?” the goddess eventually asked. “Or rather, why I allowed you to be saved? Why I didn’t interfere when Elander’s guardian powers resurfaced and pulled your soul back into the mortal realm?”
Cas had several answers she thought she could give, but the goddess didn’t seem to truly be asking for any of them.
“Because I could have interfered,” Solatis continued. “It was unprecedented, a controversial point among the divine courts, to say the least. Humans only live one life for a reason. And for his magic to guide you into one of the royal families of Kethra, and all the complicated things that might have followed…I knew it would be a risk. I could have stopped it.”
Cas squeezed the sword fragment in her hand more tightly, thinking of how truly complicated things had been.
“But I didn’t stop it because I had a feeling about you,” said the goddess. “And you have proven me right several times over now. You held to the light even in the darkest of moments, and you passed my final test by going back to the past and fighting for the future of your world and yourself, even with all its complications and uncertainties.”
Cas stared at the sky as they walked. She had not been thinking about passing any tests when she made that decision. But she was still glad she had made it, regardless of what had become of her now. Because now her world had a chance at a future not shaped by a mad god.
“You have proven yourself to be so very human, in this lifetime and every other,” said Solatis, “and I think you understand now that this is not the weakness you once thought it was.”
They came to a stop at the edge of a small lake, its surface as peaceful as everything else around them.
“It is a strength—and one that you will need going forward,” continued the goddess. “Because the time of the gods in the mortal realm is coming to an end.”
The statement sent a shiver of uncertainty through Cas.
The goddess’s voice remained soft and reassuring. “I saw it long ago. So did my fellow Moraki. Which, of course, was what started Malaphar down the path that led to…well, everything. He was not ready to give up his influence in that realm.”
Cas considered this. “So he’s not dead. Just gone from the mortal realm.”
“No, not dead.” Solatis reached a hand over the water. A drop of light fell from it, turning the entire lake to a pale shade of gold. “Nor am I. Dead is not the right word when it comes to beings like us. His power is, however, sealed away from the realm you call home. He no longer has a Point—Antaeum or otherwise—that will allow him back into that world.”
“So he’s gone…but so are you…” Cas studied the goddess’s reflection, the way her golden eyes and the shimmering designs upon her skin melded with the newly-transformed lake. “Or are you? Because I thought you were gone before, but I felt you alongside me several times over the past weeks. Did I imagine that?”
The goddess shook her head, her smile turning a bit somber. “I was with you in the River Drow, and I was with you in the final moments when you stabbed your sword into our enemy. All I had left—the thin bit of power I managed to keep in your realm—I saved it for the moments when you most needed it. But now it’s truly used up, I’m afraid. And so we’ve reached the place where we must part ways for good.”
Cas looked away from their reflections and gazed upon the goddess’s true face, trying to imagine never seeing it again. She couldn’t.
“Your world will need a mortal queen more than it needs any goddess,” said Solatis. “And a king alongside her.”
Her heart skipped several beats at the mention of Elander, and the goddess’s smile brightened once more.
“A king who has proven worthy of standing by your side, I think,” Solatis continued. “For even as a god, he retained a mortal-like heart. He thought it a weakness in the beginning, much like you—but he’s grown as you have. All the more reason I believe the two of you were destined for each other, and for the rule of a throne that will carry such an important role in your world’s history.”
“And our magic…”
“Will fade eventually, along with the magic throughout the so-called Marrland Empires. Another few generations, and the true age of pure humans will begin. Until then, I trust you’ll continue to use your magic for good. My court has granted you the last of what they can give to this mortal world—enough to help you rule with power and light.”
“So don’t say I never gave you anything,” came a familiar, candid voice.
Cas turned and saw the Goddess of Storms striding toward them, followed by her sister. They were both beyond radiant in this realm, their skin and hair shining brightly and sparks of lightning and wisps of clouds following in their wakes.
She met Nephele’s eyes as she approached. They were an even more arresting shade of purple than usual, glittering like polished amethysts. Cas was too overcome to speak right away. Their history—the good, the bad, the complicated—played through her mind in rapid succession. The goddess started to speak several times, only to stop each time, as though she was sorting through that history and struggling to put it into words as well.
Nephele found her voice first. “You still have the mark I granted you in Stormhaven, don’t you?”
Cas nodded.
“I told you to bear the mark and its magic well when I gave it to you—the charge still stands, Queen. Along with one more.”
“One more?”
Nephele’s smile had a touch of her usual smugness in it. “Keep that idiot out of trouble for me.”
Cas smiled back. “I’ll try.”
Nephele’s expression became more genuine. She regarded Cas with a long look that came very close to tender before she gave a nod of her head and turned away.
Her sister started to follow, but paused long enough to meet Cas’s gaze a final time as she said, “I underestimated you, it seems. Keep proving me wrong, won’t you?”
Cas agreed, and thanked her, and then both of the Marr were gone as quickly as they’d arrived, their divine forms melting into the air in a way that Cas could only describe as graceful.
Cas lifted her right hand. The mark the Storm Goddess had placed on her wrist was in fact still there, jagged and bold against her skin. On her opposite wrist she now carried two more marks, side-by-side. One was the Sky Goddess’s, but the other was unexpected—a star.
