Page 252 of The Ascended
Then Vorinar appeared.
But something was wrong. The ancient Aesymar who spoke in riddles and moved with the weight of eons now stood stiffly, mechanically. His robes still showed their constellation patterns, but they no longer moved. His eyes looked flat and empty.
"The trial has ended," he announced, his voice devoid of its earlier resonance. No riddles, no cryptic wisdom. Just bare words. "An error occurred. All who survived will proceed to tomorrow's Forging."
"An error?" Chavore stepped forward. "Vorinar, what?—"
But the Aesymar of Fate was already gone, vanished. No portal, no gradual fade—just there one moment and gone the next.
The silence that followed was deafening.
"This has never happened before," Aelix said quietly, his usual calm rattled.
Xül moved through the crowd toward us, his expression carefully neutral. But I could see the calculation in his eyes. He knew something.
“The blood oath,” he murmured, low enough that only I could hear it. “Now, while everyone's distracted and the domains instability means no viewing portals.”
I glanced at Thatcher.It’s time.
He nodded slightly.
"Miria is handling Chavore," Xül whispered as he passed, barely moving his lips. "But we need to move quickly."
We slipped away from the main group, Xül leading us to a shadowed alcove where the fractures in reality created visual distortions. Anyone looking our way would see only broken reflections.
"Your hand," Xül said to Thatcher, producing a blade from thin air.
Thatcher hesitated. “Before I do this, I have a demand.”
Xül looked around, eyes narrowing. “We don’t exactly have a lot of time, so make it quick.”
“I agree to everything Thais told me. But I want Chavore kept out of it.”
I looked at Thatcher.What?
He’s not involved any of Olinthar’s schemes. I can tell. Just trust me.
“That’s a high price, Thatcher,” Xül murmured, his voice nearly a growl.
“I won’t negotiate that.” Thatcher stood tall, crossing his arms.
Xül dared a glance over at me, eyes still narrowed. I shrugged. “You don’t want him anyway. You want Olinthar.”
Xül’s irritation was palpable, but he conceded, reaching for Thatcher’s hand. “Fine. I’ll figure it out.”
Thatcher nodded and extended his hand, palm up.
"Speak your oath," Xül instructed. "But choose your words carefully. They will bind you."
Thatcher met his eyes. "I swear by my blood that I stand againstOlinthar. I will never truly serve him. When the opportunity arises, I will act to bring about his downfall."
“You must swear loyalty to my father,” Xül added.
“I swear loyalty to the forces that move against Olinthar.”
Xül’s jaw ticked, but he nodded. “You’re a difficult one, just like your sister.”
“I know.” Thatcher shrugged.
