Total pages in book: 362
Estimated words: 347293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1736(@200wpm)___ 1389(@250wpm)___ 1158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 347293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1736(@200wpm)___ 1389(@250wpm)___ 1158(@300wpm)
“All of that sounds good,” he replied. “Though I have no interest in speaking for the draken.”
My lips pursed. Who would be better? “But you really do think it’s a good idea?”
“It’s a change.” He scratched his chin. “But change is good, especially when it’s needed.”
Exhaling slowly, I nodded. “There’s something else. Something I realized after speaking with you.”
He picked up an untouched strawberry. “What is that?”
“The riders. Do you know what they are?”
He finished off the sugar-dusted fruit. “What do you think?”
“I…I think you know more than you’ve shared with Ash,” I said after a moment.
Picking up another berry, he went quiet for a moment. “I was still of only one form when the riders came into existence, created to bring about the end.”
“Gods, you are so old,” I mumbled. He shot me a narrowed-eye look, and I flashed him a quick, bright smile. But he was old, and I knew what that meant.
“Why do you ask?” he questioned.
“It wasn’t until I was having dinner with Ash that I remembered all the stuff I’d seen during my Ascension,” I explained. “You know who the Fates are, don’t you?”
He nodded, looking out over the courtyard. “I remember the Ancients more clearly than the eldest of the Primals. I know what some became.”
“And you never said anything to Ash?”
Nektas shook his head as he wiped his fingers on the napkin he’d picked up.
“I didn’t either. I almost did, but I had a feeling I shouldn’t. That there would be consequences if I did,” I told him. “But I don’t know why. I was wondering if you did.”
“Power. Ancestry,” he stated. “Some gods and mortals would seek to follow them instead of the Primals—those who would always align themselves with those they believed were the strongest—who they descended from in one way or another. We are lucky the Arae know the truth.”
“What truth?”
“That beings who wield control over life and death, the lands and the elements, those who hold within them such unyielding power, can never be in a position to rule,” he said, eather flashing in his pupils. “For they are blood and bone.”
“The ruin and wrath of a once-great beginning,” I whispered. A fine shiver curled its way down my spine at the same moment cold fingers of dread pressed into the skin behind my left ear. I thought about what Kolis had sought to become.
A Primal of Blood and Bone.
Of Life and Death.
“The Ancients,” I said. “They held power over all, right? Before they split their powers and went into Arcadia or became the Fates.”
“Before then, a single Ancient could influence gods and mortals to go to war or make peace. They could inspire invention and love, or slothfulness and envy, and ensure that the lands were as fruitful as a union between the two,” he said. “One could turn an entire village propitious or curse every inhabitant with misfortune.” His gaze met mine. “It is because they wielded control over all forms of life and death.”
A chill went down my spine as I crossed the chamber, stopping at the balcony doors. “The part about them being able to create new realms wasn’t hyperbole.”
“I never saw them do it, but it was said they could,” he said as I pulled a curtain aside. “But they could also undo the realms. They could topple the mountains and flood the lands. That is what some wanted to do. Not complete destruction, not a complete undoing of the realm, but they had done it before. In different lands.”
“Lands to the east and west, separated by unending seas and mist,” I murmured, thinking about the mountains I’d seen erupting into flames, and the steel buildings that had fallen. Had they already done what I’d seen? Was that why we couldn’t pass beyond the veil of eather?
Or was that what was to come?
“But you know what the Ancients were capable of and what the ones who went to ground still are,” he said.
“I know. I was just thinking about why there has never been a Primal of Life and Death.” My fingers tightened on the curtain. “It’s because they would be…”
“Not just mightier than any Primal,” he finished, “but a Primal of Life and Death. Therefore, as powerful as an Ancient once their essence reached maturity.”
I stared at the dark skies beyond the glass. “If Kolis drained his brother and took the embers that way, he…” I rubbed the nape of my neck. “He would’ve taken all of them.” The prophecy whispered through my thoughts. “For finally, the Primal rises…” It spoke of the Primal of Blood and Ash. Blood and Ash stood for Life and Death. Blood and Bone. “He would’ve become the Primal of Blood and Bone.” I forced in a slow, even breath. “He could still become that.”
“Will you allow it?”
My gaze flew to him. “Fuck, no.”