Chapter 19: Chapter 19

AVERY

The morning sun painted the mansion in golden hues as we gathered outside, the air thick with unspoken tension. Iris stood beside me, her fingers brushing against mine—subtle, seeking reassurance.

I could feel the weight in her silence, the way her shoulders tensed ever so slightly, betraying the storm beneath her calm exterior. I couldn’t read her thoughts, but the emotions I sensed from her were tense.

She was afraid of meeting Devas.

Aidan had joined us, though I knew the island’s duties demanded his attention. But when it came to Iris, none of us hesitated.

She was one of us now, whether she fully realized it or not. Ava, stubborn as ever, had refused to stay behind, her presence a quiet defiance against the unknown we were walking into.

As we mounted our Amicuses, Father’s voice carried over to us, steady but laced with caution.

“Devas rarely comes to the community. He’s not evil… just isolated,” he told Iris.

His words were meant to soothe, but Iris’s grip on my arm tightened. She didn’t need to say it... I felt her unease like a second pulse.

Aidan’s mighty griffin, Rapax, surged forward—his golden-brown feathers gleaming in the sunlight as his massive wings sliced through the air. Each powerful beat of his wings flexed the muscles beneath his thick plumage as he followed close behind the king.

The sharp eagle eyes impatiently fixed on the target, while the lion’s paws seemed to grip the air with razor-sharp claws. A wild, proud animal, completely submissive to the will of its rider.

Iris’s gaze was fixed on Aidan, and I could feel the proud spark that flared in her as she watched her brother. Eyon seemed to sense it too—his ears pricked up, he snorted briefly and trotted alongside Father with quicker, springier steps.

The village unfolded beneath us, alive with laughter and light. Children darted through the streets, some with their wings shimmering as they took flight, their joy a stark contrast to the heaviness in Iris’s heart.

We stopped for a moment and the residents bowed to us, expressing their respect for the king. Father knew the names of the children who laughingly held out flowers to him, listened to the worries of the elders as if they were his ~own~, and his laughter was as unaffected as if he were not their king but a brother who protected them all under his wings.

He did not reign from a throne of gold, but in their midst. The people loved him, not from duty, but because he truly saw them.

One day, I would take his path, and I could only pray to carry even a shadow of his wisdom and grace. They loved him... because he had loved them first.

Then the trees rose before us... ancient, towering sentinels whose gnarled branches seemed to warn against entry. The moment we crossed into its shadowy embrace, the air shifted.

The vibrant hum of life dulled into an eerie silence, the kind that prickled the back of my neck. Iris stiffened in my arms, her breath hitching.

“Something’s watching us,” she whispered.

I felt it too, an unseen presence, neither hostile nor welcoming, simply there. Not evil, not menacing, but inescapable.

As if invisible eyes were following us, curious and motionless, as we pushed slowly through the undergrowth. The others seemed unbothered, but Iris’s instincts were sharp, honed by a lifetime of survival in a world that had never been kind to her.

When we dismounted, her hand found mine instantly, her fingers lacing through mine like she was afraid the forest might swallow her whole. I squeezed back, a silent promise. I was here.

We followed Father through the impenetrable forest, whose path seemed to meander into infinity. Until suddenly, as if by magic, the dense veil of shadows in front of us shattered.

Behind it, as if it had fallen out of time, was a house. It was old and yet timeless, as if it had always been there, hidden behind flowering vines and a garden in which every flower seemed to breathe.

My throat tightened. How long had I not been here?

“I don’t remember expecting visitors today,” I heard a hoarse voice say.

“Devas! I hope you let us in, even if we are unexpected,” Father said.

Not a breath of wind, not a rustling of leaves, not even the buzzing of an insect. It was as if time had stopped.

Then, without warning, a black fog rose up from the ground. Not threatening, but almost gentle, like smoke from a long-forgotten fire.

It swirled around us in gentle wisps before slowly dissipating into the sky. And then Devas stepped forward.

Dark-haired, sharp-eyed, and radiating an energy so potent it was almost suffocating. He looked young, perhaps my age, but he wasn’t.

His slightly curly hair was dark as a starless night. But the color of his eyes… they were not simply black.

It was like two gates into an immeasurable past, as if he had seen things no man could ever understand. His gaze met Father’s first, and there was a worry in his features that looked older than the trees around us.

It was not his appearance that fascinated me. It was something different, an aura that hit me almost like a physical blow.

His voice was rough, laced with a bitterness that felt out of place in Antaris. No gentle words, no measured politeness, just blunt, unfiltered disdain.

“What the fuck do you want?” he asked.

The way he spoke was so rude, something I had never heard from anyone in Antaris. Come to think of it, I had never heard anyone here swear aloud before.

Everyone spoke very gently, carefully, and lovingly. In contrast, Devas’s rude swearing was completely different.

He behaved almost… like a human being. Iris flinched beside me, her pulse jumping under my touch.

Devas’s gaze locked onto her, and for a heartbeat, the air between them crackled with something I couldn’t name. Recognition? Dread?

“Is that the Prodigy?” his voice dripped with venom.

“This is Iris… Baldur’s daughter. We need your help,” Father replied.

Father’s response was calm, but I felt the shift in the air, the subtle ripple of power beneath his words. This wasn’t just a request.

It was a command, woven into the very fabric of the world around us. Devas laughed, but it was hollow, mocking.

“She’s a danger to all of us! She should get the fuck out of here! Last night I felt her presence all the way here,” Devas said.

“We’re here to ask you to help her,” Ava said as she took a step forward, fearless as always.

“To help her? Are you nuts?” Devas replied, laughing mockingly.

But it was Father who silenced him with a single look.

His violet eyes darkened, his aura thickening like a storm gathering at the edge of the sky.

His usually warm, violet eyes were now dark as a stormy sky, and the aura around him, otherwise a soft purple, thickened to a deep midnight amethyst, as if reflecting the unspoken power within him.

There was no room to argue. Every word he spoke sounded not like a plea, but like a reminder of something that had long since been decided.

His voice no longer had any of the serene warmth I had known. It carried something ancient, something that seemed not to be of this world.

Even the air around him seemed to tremble, as if it were submitting to his will. We could sense this was no ordinary king speaking… but something much greater.

“I am here to remind you of your promise.” He raised his voice.

The words landed like a hammer stroke.

Iris’s breath hitched, her emotions screaming into the silence between us. Devas was afraid of her.

And worse, she believed he was right to be.

I tightened my grip on her hand, pulling her closer. “No,” I murmured, low enough for only her to hear. “He doesn’t know you. But I do.”

Her eyes met mine, wide with fear and something else, something fragile, like hope.

And in that moment, I made my own promise. Not just to her, but to myself.

Whatever Devas saw in her, whatever danger he thought she posed. I wouldn’t let her face it alone.