Page 87 of By the Flames of Her Fury

Arcadia clapped his hands once. “Now, I think it’s best that we go somewhere private. I’m sure the last few hours have been troublesome for you,” he said, inclining his head to all of us. “We can retire to our inner chambers to speak.”

“Before we do, do you mind healing someone else?” She glanced at me. “Your arm, Everett.”

I held up a hand. “It’s fine. I don’t⁠—”

“Everett,” she said in her no-nonsense voice. I sighed and stepped forward, gingerly shrugging off the jacket Starke had given me. Aramanth held my injured arm with gentle fingers and whispered a spell. The injury instantly healed, the skin sewing itself back together seamlessly, and my shoulders fell in relief. “Thank you.”

She dipped her head low. “Anything for a friend of the Lightbringer.”

Squaring her shoulders, Vera turned to Arcadia. “Alright, let’s go talk.”

“Make yourselves comfortable,” Maeve said, gesturing to the plethora of crimson couches in the large study. As usual, my gaze was drawn to ancient scrolls tucked into bookshelves against the wall. More marble columns were spaced throughout the expanse, and at the back wall was a fireplace inlaid in a giant phoenix statue. A crown rested on its feathered head.

“Shall I call for some tea?” Arcadia asked.

“I don’t want tea, I want answers,” Vera said. I hid a smirk. She had never been one for pleasantries. I was honestly surprised she’d gone this long without shoving someone off a balcony.

“We fought a kraken, a siren, and an army of skeletons to get here, then my blood opened some portal that sucked us into a whirlpool. I want to know where we are,” she continued, ticking off each word on her fingers, “who you are, and how we can get back home.”

“I understand you have many questions.” Arcadia steepled his hands in front of his beard. “We have longed for this day our entire existence. We are blessed by your presence, daughter, and⁠—”

“Oh, for the love of the Fates,” Tessa said with an exasperated sigh, plopping onto one of the couches. “Just kiss her feet already and give us a straight answer.”

Julius looked down his nose at Tessa, not bothering to hide his reproachful expression. Arcadia’s jaw ticked slightly. “Of course,” he said. “I assume you know the legends of our kingdom, given you were able to locate us?”

Odessa cleared her throat. “Yes, Your Grace. I grew up hearing stories of this kingdom, how the Fates created it and had children with the humans. But…” She glanced between the Elders with hesitation. “But in the legend, your ancestors became prideful and power-hungry. They lost favor with the Fates and were banished from the rest of the world.”

At the mention of the Fates, the countenance of all three Elders darkened. “That is one version of the story, yes,” Julius said with a scowl. “Pyraeth was nearly erased from history. Our entire existence was twisted by the Fates to fit the narrative that better served them.”

“Then tell us your version,” Vera said, crossing her arms.

“Very well.” Arcadia’s gaze stayed trained on hers. It was eerie, seeing the same golden eyes in every Pyraethi we came across. Before them, I had only seen it in Vera.

“You are right,” Arcadia started. “Pyraeth was the first kingdom created by the Fates. They formed the land and the sea, then breathed their essence into it—a shadow spirit, it was called. These shadow spirits became the first beings to inhabit Pyraeth. The Fates took human form and came to the earth, procreating with the shadow beings and giving birth to creatures in their likeness: the first humans.

“But these were no ordinary humans. They were part Fate. They called themselves demithes, and they possessed great power—the very magic of the Fates themselves, manifesting in six potent forms. Darkness and light,” Arcadia began, holding out his palm. A swirling ball of shadows formed, then burst into light.

“Power over both mind and nature,” he went on, and his light blanketed the ceiling, morphing into an illusion of a starry night’s sky. When I looked back at the High Elder, he whispered into his hand. Vines sprung to life along all the potted plants decorating the room, dancing and twisting up the walls.

“The ability to change.” As Arcadia spoke, Julius jumped into the air at his side. His body contorted grotesquely into a thin figure, and brown, speckled scales erupted from his skin. He landed on the floor as a thick cobra, his body coiling in on itself as he lifted his rounded head. Odessa jumped back with a screech and planted herself firmly behind Kieran.

Arcadia snapped his fingers and suddenly disappeared, only to reappear on the other side of the room. “And the ability to move forward.”

More uneasiness writhed to the surface. I recognized every single power he just single-handedly displayed. It was our magic. Shadow wielding, lightbending, illusions, Alchemy, shifting, striding.

It was disconcerting, hearing the inception of our same magic, but told from a vastly different history. We’d been taught Veridians were the only beings to have magic. Our history recorded that over three hundred years ago, the Fates granted the Veridian Empire their power, but separated it by bloodline—each province in the empire received one kind of magic. But here was this hidden kingdom, far older than our empire, that possessed this power long before us. They were descended directly from the Fates themselves. Were Veridians simply an experiment to the Fates? A second chance after their failed creation?

These demithes—the half human, half Fates—had the exact same magic we did. But instead of being confined to one type, as I was, they had all of them. All six.

Just like Vera.

Her magic had been a source of pain all her life. Mortep and Scarven desired it, and their infatuation devoured her. They took and took and took until there was nothing left. Vera’s connection with these new people was impossible to deny—they thought she was a Lightbringer, whatever that meant. Some long-lost answer that had finally been found. And while they raised her up as a savior, I couldn’t help but wonder…how long would it be until they wanted to use her, too?

Vera and I exchanged a look. I expected to see my own doubt mirrored in her eyes, but instead, I saw intrigue. She slowly turned back to Arcadia and lifted her hand, letting her shadows stretch across the room until they wrapped around him. He released his own magic, and they intertwined in the air like old friends. Vera watched in a daze as their magic fed off each other. When she let out a breath, her whole chest moved with it, like a weight being dragged from her lungs.

“This is amazing,” she murmured. “I’ve never met anyone who can do what I do.”

Arcadia crossed the room in swift strides. “You’re with us now, daughter. You are not alone.” He patted her hand, both of their shadow magics sinking back into themselves. “You are home, Vera of Pyraeth.”