Page 68 of Forgotten Arcane

Chapter Nineteen

Neith

“Hey Van,” I say with a slight smirk, since my body is molded to his, and his face is only a few inches away from mine.

“Yeah, Nene?”

“Do you think you could pull your magic back. I’m rather wet and not in the good way,” I tell him, my smile widening as he realizes that we’re pretty much completely soaked as the water swirls and dances around us both.

The guys all start laughing at his expression, and Van looks slightly sheepish as he pulls the magic back.

I’m mildly surprised to find that I’m completely dry again and that he’s pulled all of the moisture from my clothes as well.

“Thank you,” I tell him with a smile.

There’s silence for a moment, and we both turn to look at everyone else. The guys are all smiling at us, and Van’s parents are looking at us in shock.

Eamon recovers first as he says, “I promise you that if we could have told you what we knew, then we would have.”

Van nods, “I get that. It just shocked me, that’s all.”

“That’s understandable,” Calia replies, offering a smile which Van returns as we both take our seats again.

“You’re a lot stronger than you were,” Eamon comments, looking at Van.

“A lot has happened,” Van replies vaguely.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust his parents enough to tell them about the fact that all of their magic has been playing up, and everything else that’s been going on. It’s just that it is always smart to keep that sort of knowledge in a small circle. Also, anything that has to do with the Choosing result we can’t actually tell them about anyway.

Calia looks at me, “We had no idea that you would be gone for that long. If we had, then we would have looked for you the minute that you had gone.”

I nod. I don’t really know what to say to that, if I’m honest. I do know that if I ever get the chance to speak to one of these Gods that seem to have dictated all of this shit, then I’m going to find it pretty fucking difficult to stay polite, God or not.

I figure the best thing that I can do for everyone right now is to get us back on track, and back to talking about what we were talking about before all of this kicked off, “What were you saying about the kelpies?”

“Oh yes,” Calia grins, seeming relieved that the subject has been changed. I think we all are. It got pretty fucking heavy for a moment then. Calia continues, “Your mother was able to call the entire herd, and they held loyalty to her. That’s why the majority of them stayed behind. We did think that we would be able to call them to us, but the closing of the realm is so complete that even the kelpies can’t get through.”

“She could call them like I can?” I ask.

“Yes, and once she was bonded to a kelpie, the whole herd began to change color as well,” Eamon replies. “I’m assuming that your kelpie is their leader?”

I nod, “Yeah, he is. That’s so cool, and it’s really nice to actually get an answer to a question that we’ve had for a while now.”

“I can only imagine how frustrating it has been for you all to get half answers all of the time,” Eamon agrees, his eyebrows drawing down.

“Honestly, it’s not been easy, but we’re finally starting to get some answers now that Neith knows who her parents are,” Ransom replies, looking as relieved as I feel that we’re finally getting answers.

“It’s not a gift that is specific to angels. It’s actually because you’re royalty that you can do it, and specifically your mother's royal bloodline.”

“That’s really interesting,” Raiden replies. “I’ve heard of gifts being passed down through royal bloodlines, despite what kind of supernatural you are.”

“Wait, I thought she was the first fallen angel in hundreds of years?” I ask, feeling confused and wondering if I’m remembering that right.

Calia shakes her head, “That’s not strictly true. She was the last surviving angel, and no one is really sure where she came from. The Gods did an origin spell and found out that she was descended from the royal bloodline. She was the true ruler of Trieneliea, but even they couldn’t work out who her parents were, or recover her memories from before she was sixteen.”

“Like me, but she had a lot more of her memory taken,” I mutter, shocked at the parallels.

Eamon nods, “You weren’t supposed to have your memories taken. You were only supposed to have a silencing spell on you. If your mother had realized that the Gods had forced your father to do to you what she had done to her, no one would escape her wrath,” he pauses and frowns. “Looking back, it’s almost like it was the plan all along.”

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