Page 169 of The Ascended
I traced the edge of his desk. "Why are they so determined to keep all of this a secret?”
His eyes flashed with silent warning, reminding me that for all our sudden alignment, Xül remained the Prince of Draknavor, heir to Death itself.
"The Aesymar fear what all rulers fear—the realization that their power is neither absolute nor eternal. That they too ascended and thus could theoretically be replaced." He paused, watching me. "Think of what would happen if mortals truly understood that divinity isn't an inherent state, but one that can be achieved. Or stolen."
I met his gaze, recognition burning between us. "The Trials are containment," I said simply, not bothering to phrase it as a question. "They always have been."
"Most contestants cling to the delusion of divine benevolence," he said, his voice dropping to match mine.
A bitter sigh escaped me before I could contain it. "I've known it for a long time. That they don't elevate mortals out of generosity," I continued, the words falling from my lips like a dark secret. "They do it because the alternative is worse. Divine power bleeds into Elaren whether they will it or not. Better to gather up those who manifest it and control them than allow potential rivals to develop unchecked.”
Especially," Xül added quietly, "when so few of the Aesymar possess true gifts themselves. Imagine their terror—immortal but essentially powerless beyond their extraordinary senses and strength, watching mortals manifest abilities they themselves lack.
“And those that cannot be controlled are eliminated before they become true threats. Every contestant who dies in the Trials is just another loose end tied off. Another potential usurper neutralized."
The brutal economy of it had always been clear to me. I had grown up in the shadow of this understanding, had breathed it in with my father's fear and exhaled it with my own cautious restraint.
What struck me now was not the revelation. It was the audacity of its scale. The systematic way the divine realm had maintained its dominance over eons.
"And mortals never see it," I said, a new thread of anger weaving through my words. "Generation after generation, we worship the very beings who cull us. They present the Trials as divine blessing while they're really just... pest control."
Xül's eyes gleamed. "The greatest triumph of the Aesymar was convincing mortals to revere the very system designed to keep them in their place."
Understanding wove itself between us. To hear such thoughts acknowledged by one of their own, to have confirmation of what had always been shadow and suspicion, kindled a dangerous fire in my blood.
He turned away first, breaking the moment. "The sun rises. The Bone Spire will soon awaken."
Indeed, the quality of light had changed, dawn's silver giving way to the scarlet hue of early morning.
"I should go," I said, already walking from his desk. "Before someone notices I picked your lock."
A look of mild amusement crossed his face. "So that's how you got out. I should have known."
"You shouldn't have locked me in," I countered.
"I was trying to ensure you rested." There was no apology in his voice.
"A wise decision." I mimicked his usual tone with a small smile.
"Thais."
“Yes?”
"What you've learned here—it cannot leave this room." His expression was deadly serious. "There are ears everywhere in Voldaris. And it seems you’ve already painted a rather large target on your back."
I nodded, understanding the warning beneath his words.
Chapter 40
Dancing with Death
The risingsun painted the dining hall in bloody hues, light spilling through the tall windows. I picked at the assortment of exotic fruits on my plate, not truly tasting any of it. Xül sat beside me.
I wasn't sure when he'd started sitting next to me rather than across the table. Perhaps it was after Kavik's attack—his silent way of keeping me within arm's reach. My hand unconsciously rose to my throat, where the bruises had finally faded. The memory was still fresh.
If Xül hadn't arrived when he did… I shuddered. Someone had controlled a Legend—made him try to kill me. And that someone was still out there, perhaps planning their next attempt.
"You should try the blue one," he said, nodding toward a cerulean fruit on my plate. "It's sweeter than it looks."
