Page 68 of The Ascended
"I don't believe you."
I pressed my lips together, refusing to say another word.
"You know," he mused, "there are other alchemical methods to reveal such truths. They require considerably more blood, of course." He leaned closer, voice turning to a coaxing tone. "If you truly don'tknow, aren't youdyingto discover which Aesymar took your mother as a lover? Which one left her to die?"
The words sank under my skin. The weight of my options pressed down on me, robbing me of breath. I could see in Xül's eyes that he wouldn't give up until he got the answers he was looking for.
Finally, speaking so quietly I almost couldn't hear myself, I told him what he wanted to know. That one single name that had plagued me my entire life. The one I rarely spoke aloud. "Olinthar."
Xül froze. His face went utterly still.
I’d never seen the Warden lost for words.
"Surely you jest," he finally managed to say.
"It's him," I admitted. Speaking the truth felt like shedding armor. "It was Olinthar."
I let my head fall back against the bench, staring at the stars scattered above.
Xül rose without warning, his movement so sudden I flinched. He walked to the drinks table, each step controlled. The silence stretched as he selected a glass and poured. He grabbed a second glass, filled it and stalked towards me, pushing it into my numb fingers. I could barely feel it—the cold from the ice, the ridges of the glass. When he finally sat, he pressed his hands to his mouth, but laughter leaked through his fingers anyway—shocked, vengeful, almost drunk with whatever implications were now drifting through his mind.
The sound broke me out of my stupor.
"The King of Order himself," he said, shaking his head in apparent delight. "What a twist indeed."
He took a long sip of his drink, savoring both the alcohol and the moment, before asking with obvious relish, "Did you get yourself dragged into these Trials in order to reunite with your long-lost father?"
The question stole my breath. How dare he make light of this—of everything I'd endured, everything I'd lost? A fracture of rage split through the numbness.
"Olinthar doesn't know we exist," I spat, my voice brittle with anger.
Xül raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Are you certain about that? Olinthar isn't exactly known for his... forgetfulness."
"Why would he remember?" The words exploded out of me. "Do you think he keeps careful records of every mortal woman he?—"
I couldn't finish the sentence. The words died in my throat.
"Surely he remembers getting a mortal pregnant," Xül pressed, leaning forward, unblinking, waiting—the persistence of a hunter who'd caught the scent of blood. "Even for a god, that's not exactly a forgettable occurrence."
My hands clenched into fists in my lap. "She was back in Elaren before she even knew she was expecting." The words came out hard, thrashing, each one a stone thrown with violent force. "The encounter was not consensual."
Xül froze, his glass halfway to his lips. Neither of us breathed. The laughter that had been dancing in his eyes died as completely as if I'd snuffed out a candle.
He set his drink down, the crystal making a soft clink against the table. When he finally spoke, his voice had dropped to a low growl that seemed to rumble up from deep in his chest.
"I’m sorry."
The word lingered in the air. I turned away, unable to look at him, unable to process the storm of emotions churning inside me. Shame, rage, relief—they all crashed together until I felt like I might drown in them.
The only sound was the soft clink of ice shifting in Xül's abandoned glass. I counted my heartbeats—thirty, forty, fifty.When I finally found the courage to speak, my voice came out small and weak and infuriating.
"What do you plan to do with this information?"
Xül was quiet for a long moment, staring at the wall. "Well," he said eventually, "obviously we can't tell anyone about this discovery. Not yet."
I flashed him a sharp look, my heart stuttering. "Yet?"
"No, no, no. That would be far too boring."
