Total pages in book: 248
Estimated words: 236909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1185(@200wpm)___ 948(@250wpm)___ 790(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1185(@200wpm)___ 948(@250wpm)___ 790(@300wpm)
“The name is vaguely familiar.” I frowned, searching my memories. “Wasn’t it an old kingdom once favored by Phanos until one of the King’s sons did something to one of Phanos’s daughters or something?”
“That’s what has been written. But the only truth in that was that Phythe was once a favorite of Phanos’s—until they fell out of favor.”
I clutched the glass. “I have a terrible suspicion I know where this is going.”
“Yeah, you probably do.” His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “There was an oil spill off the coast of Lasania, wasn’t there? About a decade ago?”
“I saw it. Phanos came out of the water and destroyed all the ships in the port. Hundreds died,” I said. “What really happened then?”
Saion shook his head. “They used to hold these games in honor of Phanos every year, but they were dangerous. People often died during them, including the King’s only son. After that, the King ended the games, believing Phanos to be a benevolent Primal god who wouldn’t want to see his most faithful harming themselves.”
“They were wrong?”
“Fatally wrong,” he confirmed. “Phanos was insulted. Saw the ending of the games as a lack of faith. It enraged him, and he flooded the kingdom.”
“My gods,” I whispered, horrified.
“Yeah.” He let out a heavy breath. “We visited Phythe often. The people there were—they were good. Not all of them were perfect, you know? But none of them deserved that. Phanos just wiped away a kingdom. There was no warning. No one had a chance to escape the waves taller than the Rise that came from the sea and traveled miles inland. Everything and everyone within Phythe were taken into the sea.” He rubbed at his chin, shaking his head. “When Rhahar and I learned what he’d done, we were shocked. Couldn’t believe it. He did that over games that we knew damn well he hadn’t even paid that much attention to. And even if the King’s son had done something to one of his daughters, that doesn’t justify taking the lives of an entire kingdom. We couldn’t serve him after that. We weren’t the only ones who left, but”—he exhaled heavily—“that was why we left.”
“Gods, I don’t know what to say. That’s terrible.” I shuddered, imagining the fear the people of Phythe must’ve felt when they saw the wave coming toward them, knowing there was no way they could escape it.
“It is.”
I swallowed, glancing down at the peacefully unaware Reaver. “Were the Primals ever truly benevolent?”
“I don’t think anyone is truly benevolent through the entirety of their life. Not even mortals,” he said, and I looked up at him. “But we didn’t expect that from Phanos, so it has to mean that he wasn’t always like that.”
“You think it’s simply because he lived too long?”
“I don’t think it’s that—or at least it’s not the sole reason. The Primals are old. Soon, they too will become Ancients. But Eythos, along with Kolis, was older than them all. And he never descended into that kind of heartless existence. A few other Primals haven’t,” he told me, and I thought of Attes. “If you ask Ector and other gods who were alive when Eythos was the true Primal of Life, they will tell you that there was a marked change in many of the Primals when Kolis stole his brother’s essence.”
I set the glass aside. “You think that act impacted their behavior? Caused them to become less benevolent?”
“That’s what Ector thinks.” Saion shrugged. “There’s no way to know for sure, but I think he’s onto something.”
If that were the case, could it mean that we could be successful at swaying at least a few Primals? “So, you ended up here, where there are no lakes or rivers beyond the Black Bay and Red River?”
A wry smile appeared. “Not at first. It was quite some time before we found our way to the Shadowlands or even came face-to-face with Nyktos.”
“How did that happen?”
He was quiet for several moments. “Gods cannot leave the Court they are born into without the permission of the Primal who oversees it. It’s not often that permission is granted. And if a god abandons their Court anyway, it’s considered an act of open rebellion, which is punishable by death—the final kind.”
I stiffened. “It doesn’t sound like you and Rhahar got permission.”
“We didn’t.” The half-grin returned. “Phanos sent others after those who left his Court following the incident with Phythe. Shortly after Eythos was killed, they eventually found us and brought us to the Court of Dalos, where gods are sentenced and punished. As we were being held there, waiting for Phanos’s arrival, Nyktos visited us. Asked why we’d left. We told him the truth, and then he left.”
My brows shot up. “He just left?”
“Yeah. At the time, we thought that was an asshole thing to do.” Saion chuckled. “We didn’t know much about him, only that he was young for a Primal—really young. But he had already become known as one of the last Primals anyone wanted to cross. Anyway…” He continued before I could ask exactly how Nyktos had gained that reputation. “Nyktos came to Court the next day when Phanos arrived, and just before we were sentenced, Nyktos intervened. Said that Phanos didn’t have the right to sentence us as we no longer served him but served the Primal of Death instead. I doubt anyone was more shocked than Rhahar and me at the announcement, but Nyktos, man, he is a tricky son of a bitch when he wants to be. You see, when he visited us the day before, he touched us both when he left. Reached through the bars and patted our shoulders. We didn’t think anything of it. The only thing we both thought afterwards was that the cell was colder—that we were colder. That was it. But when he touched us, he took our souls.”