Page 41 of Catastrophe

“My family was prominent but not at the top.”

“Your parents weren’t seers like you?” Baelen asked.

His jaw stiffened, but his voice was calm as he replied, “My mother was a green faei and had a bond with the forests. My father was a manipulator faei. He couldn’t lie, but he could talk you in circles and use transformative powers to trick people.”

“So, you get your hair from her and your magic from him. How did they feel about your seer power?”

“They loved it. They were thrilled I would elevate the status of the family and bring in more money.”

“That didn’t bother you?” I asked.

“Visions ruined my life. They gave me hope I could change the outcome and then made me the cause. It’s a curse. The only thing my visions ever gave me to be thankful for is Savida.” He looked at his soul mate, love clear in his eyes.

Daithi was a prick a lot of the time, but no one could say he wasn’t obsessed with Savida in the “I’d watch the world burn to save you” kind of way. Savida’s returning smile was equally sickening, and I poked him with the tent pole to get him to focus on the task at hand.

I was getting more tired by the second, and there was a weird buzzing under my skin that felt like an adrenaline rush … but outside of me? I couldn’t describe it. It was weird.

“Can you feel that?” I asked Dralie as I threaded the last pole.

“Yes.”

“Do you know what it is? It feels strange.”

“I’m sorry, Charlie. I’m uncertain. Perhaps a sleep will help.”

“It’s not, like, a hoard thing? I won’t start collecting tents?”

“This flimsy material is not worthy of being hoarded. Drakorians would laugh at us if we were to show them. Our mate would reject us.”

“I don’t know. I think Clawdicat would enjoy a tent.”

“My mother’s visions are the reason my fathers no longer speak of her. They stopped believing her. Drove her away. Even now, they hate her despite being her soul mates. They are a curse,” Baelen said gravely, and Daithi nodded his appreciation. He probably didn’t get many people agreeing with his point of view about visions, but someone with a pros and cons list might have a different opinion to someone living the experience.

“Have you been to Alfheimr?” Daithi asked Baelen as I sent the tent down near the fire with the trees behind it, blocking the wind.

“Only once or twice. When my fathers kicked me out of Tartarus, I went on a mini quest to look for all the things I thought would help me in my journey to become the savior of the titans.”

I knew there were three gods, and I knew Baelen called them all father, but I had to wonder who his actual birth father was. Or did being gods mean they could make a test-tube baby for all of them without the test tube?

Probably not the right time to ask.

“Savior of the titans? Isn’t that what they’ve …” I began.

Baelen answered my unsaid question with a dry smile. “Yes. They’ve never believed my mother’s vision of me as the savior, and so they appointed Zaide and Clawdia as such.”

“Ouch. That must have stung.”

He tilted his head, agreeing but not showing any emotion. “Titans wouldn’t accept the akari bastard as a savior when there was a titan who was scarred with the power of his bloodline and wears the hair of a king. But I’ve been the one risking life and limb to rescue them from slave markets, so yes, it was a kick in the teeth.”

“We all do foolish things to impress our parents,” Daithi remarked. Maybe Baelen’s sympathies made him return the favor, because he rarely offered words of comfort.

“I don’t have parents,” Savida chirped as he stomped on a hook.

“I definitely didn’t impress my foster parents,” I muttered, also pressing a hook into the ground.

“My parents are long dead, but I was keen to prove myself to them, to my detriment,” Sigurd added. He’d been quiet this entire time. I wasn’t sure if it was because he couldn’t get a word in edgewise or if he was being a suspicious fuck and planning to kill me in my sleep like some kind of sleeper agent.

Maybe I should watch my words.

---