Page 294 of The Ascended
“There is something the two of you are failing to understand here.” My father stood slowly, his expression darker than I'd everseen it. "You struck the killing blow, Thais. Olinthar's domain, his responsibilities, his very essence—it will all flow to you."
She looked down at where the divine power was seeping into her. "No."
"Want has nothing to do with it," Morthus said quietly. "It's already beginning. Can't you feel it?"
She could. I saw it in the way she swayed, the way her breathing changed. Divine power beginning its inexorable flow from the cooling corpse to its killer.
"I need to find Thatcher," she said, as if she hadn't heard him. As if nothing else existed. "I need to get him back."
"Thais, listen to me?—"
"He's gone," she repeated, staring through me. "I let go. I let him fall."
"You didn't let him go," I said fiercely, cupping her face in my hands. "You fought a Primordial. You survived. You?—"
"I let go." Her voice broke on the words, the first real emotion I'd heard since she'd said Thatcher's name. Then the numbness settled back over her like a shroud. "I need to find him."
She kept repeating it, a broken mantra, even as tears ran down her face. She didn't seem to notice them, didn't sob or shake—just stood there leaking grief while her mind stayed locked on that single, impossible goal.
I'd never seen her like this. Never imagined she could look like this. My Thais—who burned with starlight and fury, who'd faced down gods with her chin raised—reduced to this empty shell. I couldn't reconcile the woman who'd driven a blade through Olinthar's heart minutes ago with this hollow-eyed stranger in my arms.
She’d been so strong. Unbreakable. Even in her darkest moments, there'd been that core of fire, that refusal to yield. But losing Thatcher had done what no god could—it had extinguished her light. And I had no idea how to reignite it.
"We need to move quickly," my father said, but even his voiceheld a note of uncertainty as he watched Thais's vacant stare. "The others will have felt Olinthar's death. They'll come to investigate."
"Let them come," I growled, death magic sparking around my free hand. "Anyone who steps foot in here?—”
"Will see opportunity.” Morthus cut me off with a look that could kill. "Think, Xül. She's newly ascended, grief-stricken, inexperienced. To the Twelve, she's not Olinthar's killer—she's Olinthar's crown, waiting to be claimed."
The implications slammed through me. Every member of the Twelve would see Thais as the key to ultimate power. Not a person, not even a rival—just a stepping stone to the throne that had been denied to them for millennia.
"We protect her," I said, the words coming out more plea than statement. "The reformists?—"
"Are outnumbered." My father's expression softened fractionally. "Syrena would stand with us, but Vorinar? He’s an unknown now. Axora? Terralith? Pyralia? They've hungered for power. They'll tear the pantheon apart for a chance at it."
Thais had gone quiet in my arms, that terrible emptiness returning. She stared at nothing, tears still flowing. “Vorinar is not himself.”
“What?” Morthus asked.
“Moros. He corrupted him during the trial.” Thais’ voice was almost inaudible.
“So we have even less support then.” Morthus turned, running a hand through his hair.
“What do we do?”
"There is... another option," Morthus said carefully.
I cut my gaze up. "What option?"
"I claim credit for the kill."
The words hung in the air between us, heavy with implication. Thais didn't react—I wasn't even sure she'd heard. But I understood immediately what my father was suggesting, and anger flaredhot in my chest.
"Of course." My voice bit through the air. "Olinthar's body isn't even cold and you're already calculating how to use this. Everything's an opportunity with you, isn't it?"
"Would you prefer I let his actual killer take the blame?" Morthus's voice remained maddeningly calm. "A grief-stricken girl who can barely stand, let alone defend herself against the entire pantheon?"
"Don't pretend this is altruism," I snarled. "You've wanted Olinthar's throne for centuries. And now it's conveniently empty, and you just happen to be here to claim responsibility."
