Page 50 of The Ascended
—a force that could bend matter to its will with mere thought. Mountains of flesh became fluid, plants became dust.
Mountains of flesh became fluid.
I stopped breathing.
Drakor's body, caving in on itself. The wet, horrible sound of a god being unmade in an instant. Thatcher's scream of rage and pain, and then... nothing. Drakor had simply been erased from existence.
Just like this. Just like what Vivros could do.
The book slipped in my suddenly sweating hands. I forced myself to keep reading, looking for more marked passages with growing dread.
After Moros was defeated, Vivros was forever changed. No defense existed against the last Primordial’s power, and in the end, it took the combined might of all twelve founding Aesymar to bring about Vivros's end. A great power yes, but one too dangerous to be left unchecked.
Twelve gods. It had taken twelve gods working together to stop this kind of power.
I sank into a nearby chair, trying to process what I was reading. Was this why Xül had really wanted Thatcher? Gods, did the other Legends have the same thought? Did the Twelve?
I slammed the book closed and replaced it on the shelf. I didn't know what to do with this information. I tucked it away, even as it burned through me. Thatcher possessed Primordial power. And Xül knew. And I had no idea what he planned to do with that knowledge, or what it would mean for us.
By the time I made my way back to the living areas, the strange light filtering through the windows had shifted to deeper shades of red. Evening.
Voices echoed through the main hall as I approached—low, masculine laughter and the clink of glass. I followed the sound and found myself staring at a room that perfectly embodied scholarly luxury. Dark wood paneling stretched from floor to ceiling. Leather chairs were arranged around a massive fireplace, while tall windows offered views of the black sea beyond. The air held the rich scent of old parchment and dark liquor.
Xül was there, lounging in one of the leather chairs with a crystal glass in his hand, and I could see him properly for the first time without formal attire.
He wore a simple black shirt that clung to his lean frame, sleeves rolled up to reveal toned forearms. His dark braids were pulled back, beads and rings gleaming in the firelight. In his hair, on his fingers, and piercing his nose. He practically dripped in gold.
I recognized the other man immediately from the Choosing—Aelix, one of the Legends who'd been seated further down the table. He was striking in his own way, with sharp features and pale skin marked by intricate scars that looked deliberately placed. His dark hair was cropped short, and when he laughed at something Xül said, his teeth flashed a brilliant white.
I stepped back from the doorway, unnoticed, and listened. But I couldn’t help but peek inside. Their chairs were turned just enough.
"Well, obviously it would have been extraordinary to secure the god-killer," Aelix was saying, swirling amber liquid in his glass. "He certainly belongs here."
"And now he's with Chavore," Xül replied, his voice carrying thatsame aristocratic boredom I was beginning to recognize as his default tone. "Which means he'll be currying favor with Olinthar before the month is out."
"Naturally. But surely there were other blessed more suited for Draknavor? Why choose a star-wielder of all things?"
Xül's smile could cut. "You know how I enjoy complicating matters for Sundralis."
Sundralis. Olinthar’s domain.
Aelix laughed. "So I take it you don't plan on shepherding her toward ascension?"
"And provide them with another ally? Hardly. I’d rather rob them of it."
My blood turned to ice in my veins, then began to boil. So that was it. I was nothing more than a political pawn, chosen specifically to deny someone else the advantage of my abilities. Xül had no intention of actually training me, no interest in my survival beyond the satisfaction of thwarting his rivals.
Well. That was about to change.
I prowled into the parlor like I owned it, snatching the crystal decanter from between them, and pouring myself a generous measure of the amber liquid within.
Neither god seemed remotely surprised by my arrival.
"I see someone decided to put clothing on today," Xül purred.
I didn't grant him the satisfaction of my gaze, though I could feel his eyes on me. Just as I'd felt them last night, tracking every inch of exposed flesh. "Yes, well, no show for you today, I'm afraid." My teeth clicked together.
"I was wondering when you'd grace us with your presence," Xül drawled.
