They sat like that for what felt like hours, Kaiden cradling her close. But the time came when she was eventually able to pull back and wipe her now dry eyes, carefully, so very carefully folding Niyx’s letter and pocketing it in her coat.
“Thank you for being here,” Alex told Kaiden softly, her voice still raw but not dead-sounding anymore.
He brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, cupping his hand to her face as he just as quietly replied, “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
She leaned into him again, this time with her head resting against his shoulder, accepting his warmth and strength, letting it seep life back into her, bit by bit.
And then, before she realised what she was doing, she began whispering to him. Whispering memories and stories about Niyx, things she hadn’t shared with anyone since it hadn’t been safe for others to know about him.
Word after word poured from her mouth as she told Kaiden about the bravest person she’d ever known. As she told him about the fiercest friend she’d ever had. As she told him about the most loyal protector the world would ever see.
He listened patiently, trailing a soothing hand through her hair and along her back, asking a few questions but mostly just letting her talk.
It was cathartic. Like detoxing a poison from her body. In sharing Niyx with Kaiden, she was making the memories they’d experienced together all the more real.
And she didn’t stop at Niyx. She told Kaiden everything—all about her time in the past, all about her vaeliana bond with Xiraxus and her fears of what might have happened to him, all about how it was her fault Aven had turned into a monster. But while she reminisced quietly in the shadows of the cavern, Niyx remained in the forefront of her mind as she shared how he’d been there for her throughout everything she’d faced, both in the past and present. And when she trailed off into silence, it was with a saddened heart but a smile on her lips.
“I wish I could have known him better,” Kaiden said quietly.
“He liked you,” Alex told him. She wasn’t willing to share about Niyx supporting Kaiden in his quest to tear down her walls, but she did admit, “He told me to trust you.”
Kaiden let out a soft huff of laughter. “I’ve been telling you that for ages.”
Since that was true, Alex didn’t have a response. But she also didn’t have the chance to offer one, because Soraya let out a warning rumble—something she mysteriously hadn’t done at Kaiden’s arrival—and a new voice broke into their quiet, gentle moment.
“If you two are done with this touching scene, it’s time for you to get to work.”
Alex lifted her head from Kaiden’s shoulder and placed a calming hand on Soraya’s neck as the three of them looked up at Athora.
“You have a prophecy to fulfil, Alexandra. And you won’t manage to do so while sitting here and bawling your eyes out.”
Used to his caustic attitude by now and beyond the point of additional pain, Alex wasn’t surprised that once again Athora knew more than he should.
“The prophecy is a load of rubbish,” she replied. “Everything it spoke of occurred today, and nothing happened.”
“Tell me,” Athora ordered. “Tell me what occurred today.”
Indulging him, Alex recited, “When Day and Night combine and fight against one Enemy, then Dark and Light shall meet mid-strike and set the Captives free.” She wearily gathered her thoughts and explained, “‘Day and Night’—that was the Dayriders and the Shadow Walkers who fought together against Aven, their ‘one Enemy’. The ‘Dark and Light shall meet mid-strike’—that was Aven and me crossing blades. Me with A’enara, the Bringer of Light, and him with his new weapon, Vae’varka, which is made from traesos—pure darkness.”
Kaiden jerked at that, and Alex remembered that it was he who had first mentioned the name ‘Vae’varka’ to her, having seen it written in ancient texts while he’d researched A’enara. She’d presumed it was a name of a person, but it wasn’t—it was a weapon.
A’enara and Vae’varka. Two weapons of power, one light, one dark.
Moving back to her point, Alex continued, “All of that happened, all except for the last part—the freeing of the captives. Not one damn thing changed, Athora. Not magically from some prophecy, nor from me having any idea how to use my gift to help them.”
Athora waved a hand in the air. “Your gift wouldn’t have helped anyone. Free will is something everyone is born with. Much as you might wish it so, you will never be able to share with them what they already have.”
There was a ringing sound in Alex’s ears. A ringing so loud that, for a moment, she couldn’t do anything but repeat Athora’s words over and over in her mind.
When she spoke again, it was in a voice she’d never heard come from her before. A voice filled with such fury that Soraya’s hackles rose and Kaiden rested a calming hand on Alex’s leg. But it did little good.
“You told me I would be able to share my gift with others.”
Athora sniffed. “I did no such thing. I merely said I could teach you what you needed to know. You’re the one who misinterpreted my statement.”
Blackness dotted Alex’s vision, so encompassing was her rage. “You told me you wouldn’t waste your time on a lost cause!” she all but screamed at him. “You told me that!”
“And I did not lie,” he responded, frustratingly calm in the face of her anger. “But I was not referring to the impossibility of you sharing a gift that cannot be shared.”
Jumping to her feet, Alex yelled, “Then what the hell—”
A voice rumbled around the cavern then, interrupting her before she could finish her shouted demand. It was the voice of Athora, words he’d said to her after her first official task as his student.
‘You needed to fail, Alexandra, because you needed to understand that sometimes failure is unavoidable… You needed to accept that. You needed to embrace that. And you needed to take a step forward while knowing your actions were unlikely to result in victory.’
His voice continued to echo around the rocky cave.
‘On the path ahead of you, with the challenges you are yet to face, you will see your share of failure. It is inevitable. And when it comes, you need to have the strength of character to continue on, to rise again after you fall. Because you will fall, Alexandra. Of that much, you can be sure.’
“Your first lesson with me was to prepare you for everything that would come,” the real Athora said, his monotonous voice uncaring as to her raw, emotional state.
“But—” Alex swallowed against the lump in her throat. “But everyone has been counting on me and the idea that my gift will free those who are Claimed. Why would you—” She swallowed again, this time to hold back fresh tears. “Why would you let me think it was possible if it wasn’t? What were you training me for, if not for that?”
“The prophecy,” Athora said, holding a hand up when Alex opened her mouth to demand he stay on topic. “You were wrong in your assumption that nothing happened.”