The Ascended — Chapter no 61

Chapter 61

Farewells and New

Beginnings

SEL DRAVIRA EN TI. NIV VALEN, NIV ASRA, NIV LOYETH. EL ATANEN EN TI. VAH serané.

The words echoed in my mind, fragments of Xül's chanting lingering in the space between sleep and wakefulness. He'd repeated the phrase three times while his hands had traced patterns across my back, his touch reverent and purposeful. Words I didn't understand but that seemed to burn themselves into my skin and memory alike.

They'd felt like a prayer. And his mouth had definitely been worshiping me hours before.

I stretched beneath silk sheets that felt cool against my skin, memories of the night before washing over me. The desperate way we'd clung to each other after deciding that this is what we wanted. The whispered confessions in the darkness. The way his eyes had held mine as he'd said those three

words that had changed everything.

I love you.

A dull thump pulled me from my reverie. I blinked away sleep to find Xül with his back to me, shoulders rigid, attention focused on something on the floor. When I moved to sit up, I froze at the sight of a small puddle of

blood near his feet.

"Xül?"

He turned at my voice, his face softening at the sight of me. I noticed his hand had been hastily bandaged with what looked like a strip torn from one of his shirts.

"Good morning, starling," he said, moving toward me. "I didn't mean to wake you."

I shifted to the edge of the bed and reached for his hand, which he gave without hesitation.

"That's a lot of blood," I murmured, examining the wrapping.

"I was careless, just a knick," he said dismissively.

The bandage was already soaking through with crimson, far too much blood for a simple accident.

"Since when does the Prince of Death get careless?" I challenged, raising an eyebrow.

A hint of that familiar arrogance returned to his features. "Perhaps I was distracted thinking about last night," he countered, voice dropping to that dangerous velvet tone that made my skin tingle. "You have that effect on me, Morvaren."

"A papercut did that?" I pressed, unwilling to be diverted by his charm.

His eyes flicked away for just a moment before meeting mine again, his expression shifting to the imperious mask I knew so well. "We have more important things to worry about today than a small cut, starling. The Forging awaits. Your ascension awaits." He leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear. "And I await the pleasure of calling you a goddess."

The deflection was obvious, but the intensity in his eyes made it clear the subject was closed—for now.

"Lyralei and the rest of your team will be here shortly," he said, his voice soft. "They'll prepare you for the ceremony."

I stepped into a robe, tying it loosely at my waist. Xül's eyes tracked the movement.

"If you keep looking at me like that, Lyralei and her team will be waiting a very long time," I warned, though I couldn't keep the smile from my voice.

"They can wait," he growled, stalking toward me. "I'm still the Prince of this domain."

I pressed a hand against his chest, stopping him just inches away. "And what about your lover? Does she bend to your will too?"

A dangerous smile spread across his face. "You've never bent to anyone's will in your life, Thais Morvaren. I’d hardly expect you to start now. It is, perhaps, one of your finer qualities."

"Is that so?" I teased, my heart fluttering at the words still so new between us.

"I could list the others," he murmured, leaning down until his lips nearly brushed mine. "But even immortality isn't long enough for that particular recitation."

He studied my face for a moment, then relaxed. "You know," I said, remembering something. "Lyralei mentioned to me once about how there are some in the realm who don't agree with the old ways." I watched him carefully. "And the Dreamweavers follow Syrena—"

"Thais," Xül cut me off. "You can't talk about what you know with anyone."

His voice dropped to a whisper, breath warm against my ear. "It's only spoken of in certain places, with specific company. We shouldn't even be discussing it now."

His hand gripped my upper arm, just tight enough to emphasize his point. "There's a reason it's remained a secret for this long. We're careful."

His eyes locked with mine, intense and unwavering. "Besides, even if you're on the right track about whose loyalties lie with us, no one knows that you're aware the resistance even exists. We're going to keep it that way, for now."

I nodded, understanding the weight of his warning. This was the most dangerous secret in the divine realm—one that could get us both destroyed if the wrong ears heard even a whisper of it.

"I just want to be prepared," I said quietly. "For what comes after."

"After," he repeated. "It won’t be easy. But we’ll get through it."

"When have I ever wanted easy?" I challenged.

His eyes gleamed with approval. "You make a valid point. You did, after all, make the conscious decision to try and take down the King of Gods.

Reckless, and moronic. But your decision-making is something we can certainly work on."

"Don't forget falling in love with the most insufferable immortal in all the domains," I added dryly.

"Insufferable?" He raised an eyebrow, his lip quirking. "I believe the word you're looking for is irresistible."

"Arrogant," I corrected.

"Confident," he countered, his hand sliding around my waist.

"Domineering."

"Strategic."

I laughed despite myself. "This is why no one can stand you, you know."

"And yet here you are," he murmured, his expression smug. "Standing me quite well, from what I recall of last night."

The certainty in his voice should have been comforting, but a cold knot of fear formed in my stomach. "That's if I survive the Forging."

His arms tightened around me. "You will."

"You don't know that," I said. "Contestants have died. What if we've made all these plans and I don't even make it through the day?"

"You will not die today," he said, and his conviction was eerie. His hand moved to my back, tracing the same pattern from this morning, right where he'd chanted those strange words.

"How can you be so sure?" I asked, searching his face.

For a brief moment, curiosity flickered across his eyes before he masked it. "Because I know you, Thais Morvaren. And you're too stubborn to die now, when you've finally gotten everything you wanted."

He kissed me then, fierce and possessive, as if trying to brand himself onto me before we were separated. When he finally pulled away, we were

both breathless.

"I should go," I said reluctantly.

"I'll see you before the ceremony," he promised, stealing one last quick kiss before stepping back. "I'll be the one looking like I'm about to commit several acts of treason for a woman."

I laughed despite the tension. "Very specific look."

Then he ushered me toward the door. His hand lingered on mine for one last moment before letting go.

I stepped into my chambers and I was engulfed in a whirlwind of activity. Lyralei and her team had taken over the space completely, transforming it from Draknavor's usual austere darkness into a riot of color and light. Fabrics in every shade imaginable draped across furniture, and countless jars and bottles lined hastily assembled tables.

I could only wear one gown, but they'd brought over twenty, each more breathtaking than the last.

"There she is!" Novalie exclaimed, rushing forward with a brush already in hand. "We were beginning to think you'd forgotten your own forging day."

"As if anyone could forget becoming a god," Vesper drawled, critically examining a bolt of fabric. "Though I suppose stranger things have happened. Once, a contestant nearly missed his own ceremony—passed out drunk in Chronos. He didn't survive the Forging."

Lyralei shot him a warning look. "That's hardly appropriate conversation for today."

"What? It's true." Vesper held the fabric against my frame, head tilted in consideration. "Besides, our Thais appreciates honesty. Don't you, darling?"

"More than you know," I replied, allowing myself to be guided to a chair where Novalie immediately began working on my hair.

For the next hour, I surrendered to their hands, letting them transform me piece by piece. The familiar ritual was almost comforting—one last remnant of normalcy before everything changed forever.

"You seem different today," Lyralei commented as she fastened a delicate silver chain around my neck. "Lighter somehow."

"Do I?" I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral.

Her eyes studied me. "Yes. What have you done?"

I remained silent, but I could feel the flush climbing up my cheeks.

"Is that a blush, I spy?" Novalie crowed. "Our little contestant has secrets."

"Everyone has secrets," Vesper said with a smirk. "Some are just more delicious than others."

I forced my face into one of neutrality. This relationship between Xül and I needed to remain unknown for now, and I couldn’t have my own godsdamned face betraying me.

"Oh, we didn’t mean to offend you, dear," Novalie chided, tapping my shoulder. "You're at the finish line. Save the brooding for your first century."

"She's right," Vesper agreed, finally settling on a fabric. "Everyone needs at least a few decades of bad decisions and regrets before they find their footing. It's practically a divine tradition."

His words made me smile, thinking of the future that might await me— await us. A century with Xül. A thousand years. Forever. A world where I got to live and Olinthar got to die.

The gown they finally selected was neither dark like Draknavor nor blindingly bright like Sundralis—instead, it captured the in-between moment of dusk, when the first stars appear but daylight hasn't fully faded.

"Perfect," Lyralei declared, stepping back to admire their work. "A goddess in truth, even before the ceremony."

Novalie clapped her hands in delight.

Eventually, they began packing away their supplies, giving me their final goodbyes. Novalie hugged me tightly, making me promise to visit the Asteria often. Vesper kissed both my cheeks.

Soon, only Lyralei remained, studying me with that ancient, knowing gaze that seemed to see straight through to my soul.

"You warned me," I said quietly once we were alone. "About the drink at the Cascades. Thank you."

Lyralei came closer, keeping her voice low. "Before I was a stylist, I worked in the dreamweep distillery." Her expression darkened. "I'm very familiar with it and its properties, but mostly the smell." Her nose wrinkled in disgust. "I hate that smell. It clings to everything—clothes, hair, skin. I would recognize it anywhere."

"Dreamweep?" I asked, the word unfamiliar on my tongue.

"That's what was in the drink," she explained, her eyes never leaving mine. "What was in all of the contestants' drinks. A mild sedative but with hallucinogenic properties. It allows dreams to live out before your eyes."

Her lips pressed into a thin line. "But the cup given to you just so happened to have a dose that would have completely impaired you."

"I would have burned to death." This was yet another attempt on my life —more subtle, but no less deadly.

I thought back to when Kavik tried to kill me in the forest, his hands around my throat, his words echoing through my ears.

"Someone has it out for you, Thais," Lyralei said, her eyes serious.

"Someone who doesn't want you to reach ascension."

"Do you know who?" I asked, though I already had my suspicions.

"It would have had to have been someone in the Cascades that day. And the list of people there was limited." She shook her head, silver hair catching the light. "But no, I don't know who did it."

Lyralei pulled me into a hug, surprisingly strong for her ethereal frame.

"Be careful," she whispered against my hair. "The closer you get to ascension, the more dangerous things become. Not everyone wants to see new gods rise."

As she pulled away, she pressed something cool into my palm—a small vial filled with silvery, translucent liquid.

"For dreamless sleep, if you need it after," she explained, closing my fingers around it. "Ascension changes you. Sometimes the dreams that follow are… difficult."

I tucked the vial into a hidden pocket in my gown, grateful for her foresight. "Thank you. For everything."

Lyralei smiled, backing away. "Soon. I will see you soon."

With a final, gentle touch to my cheek, she swept from the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my reflection—a stranger dressed as a goddess, preparing to become something other.

HOURS LATER, I emerged onto one of the castle's upper terraces, where Xül stood waiting. The sight of him stole my breath. He was dressed in rich fabrics of deep crimson and gold, with the crest of his domain stitched into the upper left corner of his coat. His braids were pulled back, emphasizing the perfect angles of his face, and a golden crown sat upon his head. It was the first time I'd ever seen him wear one.

Marx shot me a knowing look before turning to Aelix, engaging him in

conversation.

"Nervous?" Xül asked, his voice low.

"Terrified," I admitted. With anyone else, I might have maintained the facade of strength I'd worn like armor these past months. But not with him.

Never with him, not anymore.

"Good," he said, surprising me. "Fear keeps you sharp. Keeps you alive."

"Is that official princely advice?" I asked, my voice lightly mocking.

"Fear is good?"

"Its necessary," he corrected, his eyes scanning the horizon. "But don't

let it control you. Channel it."

"Into what?"

His gaze returned to mine, burning with an intensity that made me shiver. "Into power. Into survival." His fingers brushed against mine, the touch sending electricity up my arm. "I have plans for you, Thais Morvaren, that require you to be very much alive for a very long time."

"Plans?" I echoed, raising an eyebrow. "You know how I feel about being told what to do."

The smile that spread across his face was blinding. "Oh, I'm counting on it, starling. Your defiance is half the fun." His eyes darkened as they raked over me, lingering on my lips. "The other half isn't suitable for public discussion."

Tension sparked and settled low in my core. Before I could respond, the air began to shimmer, a portal beginning to form.

"Saved by divine intervention," I murmured, earning a low chuckle from him.

"Merely delayed," he corrected, his voice a silken threat of the most delicious kind. "We have eternity, after all."

"Sundralis," Aelix murmured.

The portal stabilized, revealing a glimpse of what lay beyond—blinding brightness, soaring architecture, a domain of pure daylight. Sundralis, the heart of the divine realm, Olinthar's dominion.

My father's kingdom.

Xül stepped forward, his posture rigid with barely contained tension. He held out his hand to me, palm up. An offering, not a command.

"Ready?" he asked.

I looked around one last time at the domain that had been my prison, my training ground, and eventually, something like home. The black sand beaches visible in the distance. The crimson sky. The castle of nightmares that had witnessed so much of my transformation.

I placed my hand in Xül's, his skin warm against mine. "Together," I said, the word a promise.

His fingers closed around mine with fierce possessiveness. "Always."

Together, we stepped toward the portal, Marx and Aelix close behind.

The golden light of Sundralis reached out to engulf us, pulling us into blinding day.

My last thought before the transition took me was of Thatcher, waiting somewhere in that kingdom of light.

I'm coming, I sent through our bond, hoping he could feel me approaching.

And with Xül's hand still firmly clasping mine, the golden light swallowed us whole.