Page 148 of The Ascended
"It's beautiful," I said, the lie sliding easily from my lips. In truth, I found it sterile, cold in its perfection. Nothing here felt real or earned—just conjured into existence by divine whim. "Unlike anything I've ever seen."
Olinthar nodded, seeming pleased. "I've been considering what comes after the Trials. After your ascension." He said it with such certainty. "Have you given thought to where you might belong?"
After we kill you?
Another lie, then. "Honestly, it’s difficult to see past the Trials."
"I imagine that must be difficult, yes." Olinthar stopped beside a perfect rose bush, its blooms so red they appeared to bleed. "Although I did wonder if you might find your place here, in Sundralis."
My stomach twisted at the thought.
"Here, my lord?" I kept my voice level, interested but not overeager. "I'm... surprised."
His eyes fixed on mine. "I don't wish to pressure you. It's merely a thought, an option to consider. In the end, the choice is yours alone."
"I appreciate that, my lord." The words tasted like ash in my mouth.
Olinthar grew thoughtful, his gaze drifting beyond me toward the distant crystal spires. "Thatcher, I'm going to confide in you. I wouldn't normally do this—I'm usually more tight-lipped about the inner workings of the pantheon and the things that came before."
My skin prickled at those words.The things that came before.
"But I feel this situation deserves clarity," he continued. "You deserve to know what exactly you are."
Gods. He knew.
"You might have heard whispers about the Primordials," Olinthar said, his voice dropping. "Our creators."
I nodded carefully. "Only a little. Just fragments of informationthat circulate in Elaren. That they were the precursors, but not much more."
A smile ghosted across his perfect features. "Sharp. Yes, those from whom we all descended. Beings of unimaginable power who shaped reality itself." He began walking again, slower now. "We assumed their power died with them."
"My lord?" I infused my voice with respectful confusion. "I'm not sure I understand your meaning."
Olinthar turned abruptly to face me fully. The sun behind him created a halo effect.
"I believe the heavens have blessed you with a drop of Primordial power, Thatcher Morvaren. Your abilities—they mirror those of Vivros." His eyes glittered as he spoke. "But with that kind of power comes great responsibility."
Responsibility to fucking end you, I thought, the hatred I'd been suppressing flaring white-hot beneath my facade.
Outwardly, I widened my eyes in surprise. "Really? Is that even possible?"
"I would never have believed it could happen," Olinthar admitted. "But now that it has, we can only move forward and make the best of it."
We passed beneath an archway of intertwined silver and gold, its metallic leaves chiming softly in a breeze that seemed to exist only for that purpose.
"It's a blessing of the greatest magnitude," he continued. “A gift that makes you truly exceptional."
We had circled back toward the palace, the massive structure gleaming in the eternal daylight.
"I tell you this, Thatcher, because power like that is also a vulnerability." His hand settled on my shoulder, and I fought not to flinch away. "You must be careful not to be influenced by the wrong people."
Like you?
I nodded.
"Just food for thought," Olinthar said, his tone lightening as he removed his hand. "I'm afraid I have matters to attend to. But I did so enjoy our conversation, and I hope to have another soon. Do not be a stranger—you are always welcome in Sundralis."
I bowed deeply, partly to hide the hatred that might have shown on my face. "Thank you for your wisdom, my lord. I'm honored by your trust."
