“So you knowingly set me up for a lifetime of traumatic events? I mean, I went through hell at the hands of both Freya and Aurora. You didn’t think I should have any kindness in my life? I get the whole ‘need of a savior’ crap, but they tortured me.”
“But you survived it, all the same. It molded you into what you needed to be in order to rule the kingdom.” Scylla released a heavy exhale. “If I came to you and told you that everyone you’ve ever loved or cared about would die if you do nothing, what would you do to stop it from happening? What would you give to stop that from happening?”
“Anything,” I answered without hesitation. Esme, Knox, Lore, Greer, Soraya, Avyanna, and so many other faces flashed through my mind as the words slipped from my lips. “I’d do whatever I could do to stop it from happening.”
“When the son of the first people finds life through a Hecate witch’s womb, the world will turn to chaos and the goddess will be in ruins. When the son rises and reaches for his birthright, the battle will settle upon us, and the world shall rattle with might. For when the beast is unleashed, and the son discovers his truth, he will aim his fire at the goddess and send her back to her tomb.” Scylla tilted her head, intently watching for my reaction.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t have testicles.” Her mirroring, blue eyes grew rounded before she released a clap of laughter. “It says a son. Sons have certain parts, which I lack.”
“I’m very aware of what you lack. Did you think I wanted you found before you were strong enough to stand and fight? Please, I wouldn’t have allowed you to be killed before you were born, let alone directly after. I merely changed a few things to ensure you wouldn’t be discovered before you were old enough to defend yourself.”
Scylla paused as we came to a large portal. Power hummed through it, drifting over my flesh until it pebbled with the sheer amount it offered. “Age before beauty,” Scylla stated with a genuine smile pulling at the corners of her full, heart-shaped lips.
The moment she stepped through the portal, everything around me altered once more. Not waiting around to see what happened, I followed her into the unknown. Was I really going to allow the spirit of my dead grandmother to lead me through portals? Apparently, but this shit hadn’t been on my bingo card, either.
I stepped out on the other side and found myself in what looked to be a large bathing chamber. Several women stood ready to assist us as Scylla ambled toward an altar placed at the head of the room. The women within the chamber didn’t make me pause, and the air around me pulsed with an unsettling amount of power. Thick energy saturated the air and began slithering into my soul.
“Don’t worry, darling. They don’t bite, at least, not often.” Scylla snorted when I refused to find the humor in her sentiment. “Light the torches, Adair, please. They’re not servants if that is what you assume.”
“I assumed nothing, actually.” Scanning the chamber, I felt the skin on my arms pebbling. The women offered encouragement with gentle nods, even as they moved to do as they’d been bid to.
“Good.” She came to a stop at the altar, where she picked up one incense and gently blew on it, sending eddies of smoke out in a wave. The glass statue of Freyja sucked in the opaque essence, which sent glowing, blue veins down the altar, stretching out and branching in various directions along the marble flooring.
“It’s an antechamber?” My question was answered as the room began to hum and then expanded as the hallway had done. It expanded into a slow-moving waterway, with a pool of water leading into a large, white mosaic building. They had cut wide doors into the face of the temple, and above each side sat a fiery, blue phoenix. “Wow,” I whispered over the sound of rushing water, which fell within the temple.
Above the temple, there was a soaring statue with what looked to be billowing smoke encased inside it. The statue was of a woman, who I assumed was Freyja, all things considered. Her hands were open, palms facing the sky, and unlike the smaller version, this one was painted. Silverish curls brushed her narrow hips and lower back. A pewter, circular necklace held up the white goddess gown she wore. Chrome armlets adorned both biceps and there were several more bracelets at her wrists. The sheer dress she wore hugged her full breasts, slid to the center of her abdomen and swept out at her hips. It exposed both legs at the thigh, as if to allow easier movement. Its beauty took my breath away, revealing the origin of Scylla’s hair and turquoise eyes.
“Where was I?” Scylla asked as we drifted toward the temple.
“You didn’t feed me to the wolf, and altered facts?”
She awarded me a pointed look.
“So, you were listening? I’m impressed. Few would heed the word of a deceased grandmother. Most would assume they’d gone insane.”
“I never claimed to be sane, did I? Honestly, on a scale from one to ten? This isn’t a five for me in the what-the-fuck-chuck basket I’m crafting. I mean, did you notice the Foxtyre and Catteris? I’d consider that a little higher in the bucket. Well, all things considered.”
“I’m going to hold you to that in a few moments.” Pausing in front of the large temple, I swallowed past the fear tightening in my throat. I could feel the thrumming of the land inside the structure. “You’ll be going through the center of this door. It’s the first step of you reaching for your birthright.” When I didn’t immediately step forward, worry etched into the lines around her eyes. “I’ll explain more once you’ve entered Freyja’s Temple, Aria.”
Straightening my spine, I inhaled a calming breath before walking beneath the waterfall of mana. The sheer force of it as it hit me, seemed to rip me apart as it passed through my flesh, dissecting me and discovering all my secrets. In return, it offered knowledge and taught me things no amount of studying could ever teach me. By the time I felt a tug on my hand, I was struggling for air.
“Welcome to the heart of the Nine Realms, Aria Primrose Prometheus, Heir to the Kingdom of Fire. Since you didn’t die, I’m guessing the land approves of you. Of course, why wouldn’t it? You’re my granddaughter.” Scylla blinked with feigned innocence, as if she hadn’t just had me walk through hellfire.
“That fucking hurt,” I snapped.
“Did you think rebirth would be painless? Or maybe you thought I’d give you a massage?” Her face twitched, as if she were suppressing laughter.
My lips parted, then closed as I considered my reply. “I don’t know what I expected, actually. There’re no books or classes to prepare you for a day out with your dead grandmother.” It was direct and truthful. My attention diverted to the pool before me, which had steam rolling up from the water.
“I guess there wouldn’t be,” Scylla agreed, then pointed toward the pool. “They filled this pool with the water from my mother’s homeland. The spring for the fjords is the purest within any land. It also holds the very essence of the Vanir people. Those wishing to be claimed by the land, or blessed to ascend to the throne, must bathe here first. We can save time by performing a single blessing for both undertakings.”