Queen of Chaos (Legacy of the Nine Realms, #5)(65)
“I hate knowing that Scylla gave her life for mine and that you sacrificed being a father for me.” It was the truth. I wasn’t worth the sacrifices they’d made. What if I fucked up? Then they’d have done it for nothing.
“I am of the Aesir, Aria. You hold a piece of me within you. As you hold a piece of Scylla, as well. We bless you with both of our tribes from our sacrifices, which forged you into life. They forced part of our blood into the Fate’s cauldron, which was then threaded into the fabric of your soul. It’s one of the reasons you’re war-like, but still delicate and graceful. Griffon may have created you, but he did so because Scylla ensured the child, his sire would hold the mana she and I removed from ourselves. The thread you feel? It’s because you house a part of me within you—the part that gives you the ability to love that dragon of yours so faithfully. Scylla gifted you with the power to remake the land.”
“That’s why I feel you within me?” I whispered as my mind whirled with the overload of information.
I was relieved that it wasn’t something more profound, such as a mating connection, but it also made sadness swell inside me until my heart ached with it. He’d given up his chance to become a father in order to save the Nine Realms. All he’d gotten in return for that sacrifice was me.
“I don’t want your pity, princess.” A soft glow filled the room as he stepped back and turned away.
As the light grew, it revealed a large room decorated in shades of onyx and ice-blue. In the center of the room was a massive arrangement of pillows placed like a bed, which flowed along the wall. A small table sat beside it, and a tapestry of knights mounted on warhorses with their blades held high covered the entire left wall. Across from it, nude women were sewn in various stages of undress, all of them sunbathing beside a massive waterfall. Narrowing my eyes on the imagery, I smothered a snort.
“Don’t like my tapestry?” Zyion asked as he reentered the room, holding a silk gown. At least, I assumed that was what he held.
“Inside the Tenth Realm, men have similar posters of women inside their rooms. I was merely comparing the men of the Nine Realms to the one I derive from.” His eyes skimmed over the naked women before slowly settling back on me.
“You don’t derive from the Tenth Realm, Aria. We forged you in this very cavern, which is also where she asked me to take her life. The only difference is that it was in our realm when it went down. Get dressed so that we may continue this conversation without you causing a stir, because your creamy thighs are on display.” He tossed the clothes to me before exiting the room through the door we’d come through. “Fucking Vanir blood.”
I sighed. At least now it made sense for him not to like me. If I’d sacrificed my chance of love and children to procure his prophecy of unraveling, I’d hate him, too. Absorbing a lot in a short time was necessary. I needed to get back and seal Hecate in her actual body before she healed from what I’d done. If I waited too long, we’d be back to searching for a way to weaken her enough to be able to force her into her original form again. She wouldn’t be stupid enough to face me again without taking precautions. If I fucked up the next time I faced off against her, I’d be dead and those who’d sacrificed so much to ensure I existed would have done so for nothing. I couldn’t allow that to happen.
Chapter Twenty-One
Aria
Dressed in the soft, ice-blue colored gown Zyion provided, I sat on the bevy of pillows loitering on the floor of the chamber. I hadn’t realized Scylla had single-handedly created my existence and destiny. Hell, I hadn’t even known it was possible for anyone to create another’s destiny. Undoubtedly, no one spoke of those who had once flourished with power in the Nine Realms. Hecate had changed the history of the realms to center on her, and only her. If you spoke of those who’d ruled the kingdoms within the realms before her time within it, she considered it a slight against her. Punishable by torture, or even death.
Both Zyion and Scylla had sacrificed parts of themselves for my existence. It left me baffled as to how to absorb what I’d just learned because it was so different from what I’d been taught. The ones who’d sacrificed for me merely allowed the Fates to see to my rearing, or whatever. It meant everything I’d learned since coming here was basically useless.
I could comprehend that they’d changed everything pertaining to the prophecy. At least they didn’t expect us to wait for a child to grow into the savior. They’d claimed to have protected me by altering the stories, which had ended in repercussions. Hecate hadn’t stopped seeking to ensure the prophecy never came to fruition. Hell, she’d forced her own daughters to lose their sons to prevent one from being born. The information was overwhelming, and was hard to decipher how much of it was real, or more lies by those fed promises by false gods.
The sound of footfalls outside the chamber had me folding my legs beneath my bottom and sitting up straight. Then the curtain back, revealing Esme. Her violet eyes scoured the chamber, then settled on me. Eva strolled in behind her, slowly scanning the room.
“Fucking hell,” she spat out, wide eyes filled with wonder as she walked over and plopped down beside me. “This place is insane. Could you imagine if we created something like this for the orphaned witches?” Exhaling past the heaviness I felt at learning the cost for my existence, I grinned to ease the tension it would create if Esme felt my sadness.