CHAPTER 119

  FROM THE ASHES

  The serene lake’s surface broke in a shattering gasp.

  Water exploded around, droplets catching the pale Reina’s face like fragments of glass. Theodred surged from the lake, lungs seizing, eyes wild, his scream swallowed by the ragged intake of his first breath, his first real breath in what felt like eternity.

  He coughed violently, chest heaving as he flailed towards the ground. Something squelched beneath his fingers. He clawed forward, choking on lake water.

  This should not have happened, Reina came running.

  She reached him just as he collapsed onto the roots, curled sideways, drenched and shivering.

  “Breathe,” she said, kneeling beside him, pressing a firm hand to his shoulder. “Just breathe. You’re alright.”

  His body obeyed before his mind could catch up. Inhale. Exhale. Shuddering, frantic. Each breath tore at him, as though his lungs had forgotten how to exist without pressure, without silence, without the crushing stillness of the other place.

  But it wasn’t something that gnawed at him. He was out of the spirit world without getting one.

  His eyes locked onto hers—Reina’s face was pale, drawn tight with worry, but real. Solid. The light glinted off her earring, a simple jade disc. It hammered to him that he was really out.

  He quickly jolted out from her grasp.

  “What?” He looked here and there. “Where am I?” He couldn’t remember but finding himself in his enemy’s grasp was terrifying.

  A doubt etched in Reina’s face. “You okay, Theodred?

  “Yes—Theodred—yes—I’m okay. Teacher.” He recalled in an instant.

  For a second he had forgotten everything. The thing he saw in the spirit world was vague—but he understood what fear was for the first time. Even Aadya’s glare was nothing compared to what he saw. Its shriek still echoed in his ears.

  He covered them hard.

  “What happened to you? Why do you look so—scared?” She asked.

  “I—” he started, voice raw and barely audible. “I was...”

  Reina’s expression didn’t change, but her hand moved from his shoulder to his face, brushing wet hair away from his eyes.

  “I know,” she said. “The Spirit contracting isn’t kind. Especially not to the outsiders.”

  “No, I—” His voice cracked. “I died. I was there, I saw it—saw something—an owl—an owl covering the whole sky. It incinerated everything—everything turned to ash.”

  Her silence confirmed what he was afraid to say aloud.

  “A god. Or something like one.” He remembered the presence, until— Nothing.

  Only the lake. And now… this.

  “Solunox,” she named, shivering, “you are the second who witnessed it.”

  “That thing blasted me off. You never told me about any of this.” He rose, pushing her hand away.

  “I got killed there.” He pressed the weight.

  “It even scared off the spirit I wanted.”

  Reina let him whine all he wanted.

  “What about my spirit contract?” He asked, realising he never defeated any.

  “I don’t know—as I said, you were the second—”

  “Then ask the first one. I can’t be without a spirit? The world will laugh at me—”

  She rose silently, offering him a hand, but he was swift to stand.

  “Who is the first one?” He asked.

  “The former queen, my mother.”

  Of course. His shoulders slumped. “That cranky old lady! Man, I don’t like the odds.”

  He cursed under his breath. Thinking what she would ask in return for helping him, if she helps him. Or if Reina would ever bend a little for him. Given their relationship, it was not a cherry one.

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  “What now?” He asked, hesitating.

  “Let’s go, you said, to ask the first one, right?” She offered him a hand, and this time Hans took it.

  With a snap, they were out of the Holy Lands, and the owners conveniently were waiting outside.

  “It spared me of trouble finding you, mother.” Reina said nonchalantly.

  “You—looking for me?” The former queen doubted her ears.

  “The boy saw Solunox—”

  “Then he is deep in bad luck.” The former queen interrupted, “have you ever seen my spirit?”. She asked with a declaration.

  “As far as I know, you never had the chance to show it off. You lived in peaceful times, mother—”

  “I didn’t live in peaceful times, you foolish wench. I made it peaceful— but I couldn’t hold it for long. Whoever saw Solunox doesn’t just have bad luck in anything they do. It also strips them of a right to ever wield a spirit—ever.”

  That sounded like a judgement to Hans. Apart from being a knight, the second most thing he wanted was a spirit contract, and now this old lady who didn’t look aged was stating his destiny.

  He didn’t accept—no, he couldn’t accept it.

  He proposed. “There must be a way. I can just go there once more—”

  “No, you can’t. Didn’t this wench ever tell you? You only get one chance to have a spirit contract. If it was possible, she had —no, we both had done it.”

  She paused and burst into laughter.

  “Reina taught you our skills. But without a Swan to back it up, you’d always be burning your reserves. You can’t compete in a knight duel—knight convention is entirely another story.”

  Hans cursed and cursed and cursed.

  And it was etched in his face.

  But he wasn’t the only one. It looked like Reina’s whole world had shattered.

  For reasons not known to Hans, she was furious at fate for robbing Theodred of this chance.

  “I’ll find you a way— I’ll find you—don’t worry.” She said, assuring him and herself.

  Seeing her angrier than himself, some senses came back into him. “Just what is that thing?” He asked, and the audience wasn’t just Reina.

  “It is the harbinger of bad luck.” The former queen spoke, recalling her own encounter. “A cosmic Owl spirit, forged in the first clash of dawn and darkness, it erases form, memory, and fate itself.”

  She paused.

  “Leave these lands, do not spread any of your bad luck here.”

  “Enough, mother— didn’t you also see the Solunox? Don’t contradict yourself. I still reign as the queen—”

  “Fo how long, dear sister? Or are you thinking of opting for a war with me?” Martys chimed in, provocatively.

  Unlike before, when she acted like sh had deserved their taunts, the real her emerged.

  She ignored them completely. And activating her authority, she summoned the shadow family transportation circle.

  “You dare—” the former queen interrupted, but by that time, Reina and Theodred were out of her hair.

  They emerged at the palace’s edge. Theodred swayed, unsteady. But he didn’t speak. He was so out of it that he didn’t even ask how they could use magic from there but not here.

  Reina gripped his shoulders, hard.

  “Listen to me.” She jolted him, “Never let anyone tell you what you can or cannot do. What’s written can be broken. There is no fate, only the history we forge.”

  He nodded—but barely.

  “As I said, before the abdication—I’ll find some way for you—that’s the least I can do for you. It’s a promise from me.”

  That oddly gave Hans some comfort.

  Since they had come back, the castle, which should be bustling, was silent.

  The training ground waited for Theodred to return, kept waiting.

  Reina had engrossed herself in myths and legends while Hans was just sulking in his room; various thoughts were running in his mind—he counted gains since coming here, trying to justify that having the spirit contract was not the only thing in this world; he had improved his timeless strikes to a new level. He could turn knight for around an hour for surprise attacks or when he ran out of sun; this short burst of power could help him. There were many things; he kept justifying it again and again.

  I am a mage—my father made me a mage—this was supposed to be the side project.

  He refused any visitors; Allynna kept coming every day, but he never opened. Even the silent Riftal came, but there was no reaction, only silence.

  And Reina—Reina was worse.

  She barely slept. Her presence in the court vanished. The library lights burned deep into the night.

  Bernard and Eleanor came, quietly, trying not to sound like they were pleading.

  “You need rest, Reina.”

  “I need answers,” she said.

  “Reina,” Eleanor tried again. They had never seen her this broken. Even when she was imprisoned in Parv for almost a year. When she came back, there was no change in her behaviour—only rationality.

  But now, she was too fragile to be called her former self.

  “If you have time to disturb me, then you have time to help me. Scour this library and find anything remotely relatable about Solunox. It feels like my mother did a very good job hiding it.”

  “Then it might not be here, Reina. But why are you searching for the myth—”

  “The boy is without a spirit, husband. He failed— the same thing that happened to my mother. She too doesn’t have a spirit— me— and now him. Is this curse passed down with royal skills? I don’t know—”

  “You are talking nonsense— where is the rational woman who always stood against the overwhelming odds?”

  “I don’t know. I just need to find a way—”

  Bernard, the titled analytical knight. Suggested, “Why spirit?”

  “To make up the difference in aura reserve, Bernard. You know my skills, why are you asking the stupid question?” She infuriated.

  “Yeah, riddle me. Your skills eat up— I mean keep eating your aura with astonishing speed, right?”

  The couple paused.

  Bernard continued, “How did you manage it—how did your mother manages it— you both don’t have the spirit.”

  Rein thought hard. “My mother— she had overwhelming supporters, so she never had to set foot in battles— I—” she looked at the sword, dangling by the doors of the library. “My sword is an old artefact— it keeps eating my aura and storing it— when it’s full—I can take it as I deplete.”

  “There is your answer,” Bernard declared. “Find the boy a similar sword.”