RHYSSAND
"YOU HAVE BEEN DIGGING INTO THE RUINS, AGAIN…" Rhyssand said, "Care to tell me why?"
Artizea stiffened, her heart pounding. "I would not."
Rhyssand studied her as they walked in silence. The memory of their first encounter hovered like a storm cloud; no doubt it is where she stored her wrath. Waiting for the right time to strike.
Without warning, she stopped and spun to face him, "How dare you act all high and righteous now when we both know what happened that day was anything but."
He met her glare without flinching. "You kept it a secret."
"Of course I did," she snapped. "What do you imagine my father would do if he knew you had paralyzed his men. My brother. You crushed the only lead I had to—"
He groaned. "You wish to know the answers only a god can grant you. Am I correct?"
Artizea faltered, swallowing back the ache. "The last thing my people need is a war."
"I agree. What if I assisted you?" he offered. "Not help—assist."
"How so?" she asked.
"Though we are not allies in your eyes, I am bound to assist your realm in benefit to mine. So, if I guided you toward the answers you seek, and you assist me in finding the broken seals, we would not have to be stuck together, alone, for much longer. That is what you want, yes?" he teased.
She stared at him, caught between rage and restraint. Then finally: "Why did you seek me out in the first place just to assist me?"
"I was following orders," he replied flatly.
She scoffed. Her gaze flicked to Eugene, who was crouched nearby, drawing magic circles in the snow, entirely unaware, or pretending to be. "I should have known it was you," she said, her voice soft but edged with frustration.
"You did," he replied, stepping closer. "Somewhere, deep down, you knew. Admit it."
She did not respond. She stared at him, torn between distrust and curiosity. "You are very bold to think I would entertain such a notion of having you, of all people, in. my. thoughts."
"I know you do," he said with a small smile. "You practically shout them out."
"Ha!" she spat, "Then you would hear the answer is no, and even if you did know all truth, which you clearly do not, then why do you not tell me what I wanted to know the first time I asked?" She said a bit too loudly, glancing to see if her brother heard, but Eugene looked to be admiring the foreign substances.
Rhyssand leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Listen to me very closely, Artizea. You are standing in the middle of something far bigger than you realize. And if you do not accept my help without complaint, you will lose more than a sibling and a few sleepless nights."
"I am curious," she murmured, "You help where you are not needed. Save those who do not need saving. You dance with the unwilling—what are you about, Rhyssand Rimat?"
"I was not hiding at your ball," he said matter-of-factly. "I was curious," he said mockingly, "It bewilders me how your people saw you at your worst, yet treated you no differently. Most of all, it fascinates me how you humans carry on, like nothing is Amidst."
"My father once told me that nothing good comes from dwelling on the footsteps of man; the elements will surely sweep them away. We do not just carry on, we mourn the past and then we leave it in the past, because we have to."
A long silence stretched between them.
Then he smiled, just slightly. "How about this, I shall make you an offer you will not refuse."
"Will refuse," she muttered under her breath.
"One question, within my ability to answer."
"In exchange?" she asked, crossing her arms.
"We resume your etiquette lessons. And judging by today's performance…" He looked her over pointedly. "We may need to start from the beginning, once more."
"NO, we do not—" she said quickly, casting a furtive glance at an unsuspecting Eugene nearby, then back to Rhyssand, with a satisfied smile on his face.
She exhaled sharply, tone more subdued. "Thank you… for saving my brother." It came out like a splinter being pulled from her throat.
"You are most welcome." Rhyssand arched a brow. "None for you?"
Artizea shot him. Glare, "Technically, I saved you from my father's wrath, so did Arthur, you know, the one you made me believe was dead."
"Ah—The name caller." He replied.
"Yes—" she said, folding her arms once more. "But on behalf of my brother and me. I am willing to make it water under the bridge. Do you accept, Rhyssand Rimat?"
Rhyssand's smile deepened. "I accept."
Artizea let a beat pass, then regained her composure. "Now, can I please ask my question?"
Rhyssand clicked his tongue. "I'm afraid you already have, Your Grace. You shall have to wait a full moon cycle for another."
Artizea's eyes flared. "What the hell, Rhyssand?" But he only chuckled and leaned in, voice dropping low.
"Patience," he whispered. "Fin isn't the only eye in the sky, and you are not the only one lying to their parents."
Artizea scoffed.
He followed her gaze and sighed softly. "I will tell you one thing, whatever you are after is dangerous—for you, for your family, and for the realms. No amount of truth is worth the sacrifice." She looked up at him, "However, I will do my best to assist you in finding it on your own accord."
In that moment, their uneasy truce, forged in necessity, had brought them closer than one needs to be to one's enemies.But could she still call him that after recent events? She asked herself. Her thoughts derailed when he glanced at her, his golden eyes glowing like dawn had broken early, right into her face. It was as if the moon had given him the sky just so his gaze could burn through the night.
Then gave her that infuriating smile as if he could read her mind and see that everyone was indeed about him.
She flushed and looked away. "Do you not have brightness settings on those things?"
He chuckled, a low sound that curled down her spine. "Apologies," he said, dimming their unnatural glow with a blink. "I had no intention of hypnotizing you, Princess." He paused, letting the silence stretch just long enough before adding, "Not in that way, at least ."
"In your dreams," She sang, but the reaction she expected was not what she imagined it would be. He just stood there silently. It was very irritating. She scoffed with disdain, "Unbelievable," and picked up her pace, just enough to walk ahead of him. Just enough to make sure he could not see the color rising to her cheeks.
Little did she know, it was a bit too late for that.
Eugene stood at the head of the group, a map of ley lines sprawled across the table, glowing faintly under the light of enchanted orbs.
The trio stood before a massive stone door. The ruins loomed before them, ancient and imposing, carved into the side of a jagged mountain.
The faint glow of celestial runes etched into the stone walls shimmered faintly, casting an eerie light across the narrow passage.
Eugene lingered close behind her, his spell book clutched tightly in his hands. He crouched down, darting his gaze over the intricate carvings, "This place is ancient," he muttered, his green eyes wide with awe. "These runes… they are older than anything I have ever seen in the Babylonian archives."
"It would not be, it is far more than ancient," Rhyssand said, his voice calm but commanding. He moved past them, examining the runes. "A ward, meant to keep out anyone who is not… worthy."
Artizea stepped forward cautiously, scanning the inscriptions, then raised an eyebrow, "Worthy? What does that mean?"
"It means," Rhyssand replied, running his fingers lightly over the glowing symbols, "only someone with a direct link can pass through."
"This is fascinating," Eugene said, half to himself. "The symbols… They resemble per-dynastic celestial markings, but there's a distinct divergence here. If I compare this to the glyphs in the Codex, there might be—wait, no, that doesn't fit. Maybe—"
"Eugene—" Artizea called.
"What?" he snapped, not looking up. "Do you have any idea how complex this is? There's a one-in-a-thousand chance of even finding the right sequence to—"
Rhyssand, who had been leaning casually against the shrine, pushed off and walked over. With an air of boredom, he raised his hand, his golden eyes beaming once more, narrowing in concentration. A faint glow radiated from his palm, the runes reacting immediately as if answering his call. The ancient stones began to shift, grinding against each other as the passage slowly opened, revealing a dimly lit corridor beyond.
Eugene froze, his mouth slightly open. "What… just happened?"
Rhyssand grimaced, brushing dust and cob webs off his hands. "I opened it."
Before Artizea could retort, Eugene gasped, his excitement barely contained. "But, how do you know the correct sequence?"
Rhyssand stepped through the newly opened passage, his wings faintly brushing the sides of the corridor. "I am a ninth-generation descendant, directly from the first King of the Gods. Màrdûk Rimat, also known as Mār'dus'kihiyah. The very blood in my veins is the sequence."
So that's how you pronounce it, Artizea thought.
Eugene froze mid-step, his book slipping slightly from his grip. "Wait, Marduk? As in The Marduk? The First King of the Gods? Reshaper of the Heavens? That Marduk?"
"The very same…" Rhyssand said, his tone casual as though he were discussing the weather.
Eugene's face lit up like a child hearing his favorite story come to life. "That is incredible! How does sovereignty work up there? Wait, that means—"
"That I am very powerful." Rhyssand finished, smirking. "Yes, I am well aware."
Artizea rolled her eyes, following him into the corridor. "You are only feeding his enormous ego."
Rhyssand chuckled, clearly amused. "Is the princess jealous?"
"Does annoyed by your presence count?" she grunted.
Eugene, on the other hand, is still marveling at the magic particles that surround them, mostly following the celestial above. His eyes widened in awe. "Tizea, it is not your turn with he walking library, don't be stingy—" he turned and stepped in front of a startled Rhyssand, "do you know binding spells? Or ethereal translocation? What about temporal anchoring? You have to know temporal anchoring— Can you teach me?"
"Whoa, whoa," Rhyssand said, raising a hand to cut him off, then slowly slid him aside. "One question at a time, kid," he countered, while walking.
"Oh, so he gets to ask questions," Artizea muttered.
Eugene ignored his sister's grumbling, practically bouncing with excitement. "What about celestial summoning matrices? Or personal realm stabilization? Actually, can you just—can you adopt me? I could be a great apprentice! They will not miss me at the palace."
"Not worth a realm war, Kid," Rhyssand replied with a grin.
Eugene refused to back down. "Okay, but can you at least teach me, maybe a few basic spells? Or—"
Artizea groaned.