“What about us?” Quylla asked. “Are you really willing to abandon us forever?”
On the one hand, Orion wanted to stop Jirni as much as his daughters. On the other hand, he couldn’t forgive himself for not having thought about becoming a Demon first.
“She would forgive herself and I wouldn’t abandon you.” Jirni shook her head. “I would just become like Trion and we could still see and talk to each other.”
“It’s not that simple.” Trion would have liked to stay out of it, but Jirni had brought him up and he didn’t want to see another family suffer. “You would be bound to Lith in Lutia. You wouldn’t experience taste, sounds, and even light like you do now.
“Your skin would become cold and you’d never get tired or hungry. You would spend most of your time in a Void Sigil, regretting all the mistakes you’ve made and missing all the things you love.
“Like spending time with your husband. Talking to your children and being there for them when they need you instead of just when Lith happens to visit them. Are you willing to forfeit all this?”
Jirni gritted her teeth, torn between her feelings for Phloria and those for the rest of her family. For the first time in her life, there was no clear answer or devious plan to get what she wanted.
No matter what Jirni chose, she had to sacrifice something that would haunt her for the rest of her life.
“No, I’m not.” Jirni turned pale as she spoke. “I can’t give up on my life without the certainty of saving Phloria. If we fail, I’d lose everything and my family would grieve twice as much.”
Everyone considered the possibility of losing Phloria terrifying, but they managed to keep it in a dark corner of their minds where they never looked. Hearing someone as strong-willed as Jirni say it out loud was the stuff of their worst nightmares.
She would never stop thinking and scheming until she found a way to make the impossible possible yet this time her despair was sincere. It wasn’t just a part of her deception or a small step in a bigger scheme, Jirni really was helpless.
“Mom, Dad, the Royal Fortress armor could still help us big time. What do Quylla and I have to do in order to wear them?” Friya asked.
“I’m sorry, pumpkin, but you can’t.” Orion sighed. “Just like only Valeron’s descendants can become rulers of the Kingdom, only those who carry the blood of the four finding pillars can wear the Royal Fortress armor of our households.”
“Are you telling me that just because we are adopted, we are not real members of the family?” Quylla’s eyes teared up.
First Tessa and now Tyris’ artifacts judged her lacking because of her humble origins.
“It’s more complicated than that, dear.” Jirni hugged, Quylla, trying to calm her down. “Tyris gave those artifacts to Valeron’s companions to ensure that their bloodline would survive.
“Without such a safeguard, someone might have forced their way into the family and taken them away. The First Queen designed them so that if one of our households disappears for whatever reason, her gift would disappear along with our bond with Valeron.”
“What about the Queen? She’s no descendant of Valeron or the four founding pillars yet she can use the Saefel set.” Quylla asked.
“That’s because she’s married to Meron. The King imprinted the set first and that allowed Sylpha to share his imprint. If Meron were to die, Sylpha’s imprint would fade away as well.” Jirni said.
“I understand.” Friya’s words and tone didn’t match.
She was livid, her body stiff from outrage.
“Faluel, if I were to become your Harbinger, wouldn’t that make me a member of the four finding pillars?” She asked, making everyone go even paler.
“Yes, but you’d become a member of the Nyxdra family. Not the Ernas nor the Myrok. You could wear our Royal Fortress armor, but my mother is currently using it and I doubt she’s going to return it any soon.” The Hydra replied.
“It’s amazing. The fairy tales were right all along.” Friya smashed the table with her fist and then kicked a chair, sending it to crash against the wall and turning it into splinters. “Only the chosen ones can do something.
“Everyone who doesn’t carries the blood of a hero or whose coming isn’t hailed by a prophecy can’t do shit!” She punched the wall, opening a deep hole that the enchantments of the house started to repair.
“That’s not true, pumpkin.” Orion held her tight. “The Royals are as helpless as you and I’m no better. What kind of a hero can’t save the person he loves even with the help of an artifact crafted by Guardian?”
Friya struggled to get free, kicking and punching at Orion in a way that reminded both of them of their encounter after the second exam of the White Griffon. Back then, Friya had killed her first human being.
After Duchess Solivar had betrayed the Kingdom and the Ernas had forced Friya into adoption, her mind was already a mess. Committing cold blood murder just because she thought it would please her step-parents had nearly broken her for good.
“That’s it, little one. Beat me, yell at me, do whatever you want. Dad is here for you.” He said while caressing her head.
Hearing those familiar words made Friya freeze and stop her tantrum.
“I’m so sorry, Dad. It’s just that being so helpless hurts. Knowing that I could help Phloria if only I was your real daughter hurts. Discovering that even if I give up on my life to become a Harbinger is pointless hurts.” She returned his embrace, falling apart simply because there was no point fighting anymore.
“Don’t you dare say that.” Orion replied. “No matter your blood, you and Quylla are my daughters no less than Phloria, and today, you have taught me a lesson.”
Listening to his wife considering trading her own life for power and to her daughter being willing to forfeit her free will to rescue Phloria had been a slap in Orion’s face.
They were ready to do anything to bring back his Little Flower whereas he still had a card that until that moment he had been too scared to play.
Not anymore.
***
Blood Desert, Heavenly Plume Palace, an hour later.
After leaving Lith’s house, it had taken Orion a while to make a few calls and ensure that every member of his family had plausible deniability for what he was about to perpetrate.
After that, it had only been a matter of waiting.
“You are the last person I expected to hear from, especially now.” Balkor, the god of death, had reached Orion at the borders with the Desert, using a Spirit Warping array to bring the god of the forge in without passing through official channels.
“Desperate times require desperate measures, Ilyum. You should know that better than anyone.” Orion grunted.
“I do and I’m sorry for your daughter. I wish there was something I could do for you, but my duty bounds me.” Balkor replied, making Orion think of the irony of life.
