ARTIZEA
"I AM READY FOR MY QUESTION…"
Artizea stood with her back to him, the memories they had shared here flooded her mind, and when she finally found her voice, it was bitter and raw.
Rhyssand stayed a few feet from her, his eyes meeting hers with a mix of pain. "Artizea, go back to the palace…" he began."Please…"
Her voice cracked. "Why? Why are you avoiding me? You did this before—you said it was because you were being watched, yet you acted carelessly to save me, so why are you now afraid of me? Is it because you saw who I truly am, the monster that I am..?"
"For the love of my sanity—" he burst out roughly, "There is nothing…about you I have not seen, have not touched, worhsipped…There is no part of me that does not desires to cross that line to lose myself with you—" he whinced upon the glow of his veins "…but I cannot do so without being the end of you."
"Why not!" she demanded, her breath trembling.
"—Because we are incompatible!" he breathed, the words tearing out of him. "If the balance was broken before, then it is unraveling every second we spend together. With your awakened strength… and my duty…" His jaw tightened as the veins beneath his skin, now flaring violently, threatening to erupt under the pressure he fought to contain."Just wait for the all clear…I swear I will tell you everything then, right now you need to please go—" His chest heaved, his control slipping with every heartbeat. Yet she did not budge, "GO— Artizea!" he groaned out.
"No—no more excuses," she demanded, "I will go, but first I seek the answers to a question only you can give me."
For a moment, he said nothing, the silence between them stretching. "You are not going to like what I have to say…" he said quietly and reluctantly.
"I do not have to like it," she snapped. "You owe me the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."
Rhyssand took a deep breath, "The truth is not something I can just say," he admitted. "It is something you need to feel, to understand."
"Show me, Rhys. Please—"
He shook his head, his resolve trembling.
"Please—"
"Artizea…" His voice broke on her name.
She whispered again, firmer, cutting through every single one of his defenses of his mind."Rhyssan'dsnezhniyah Rimat!"
In the next moment, He closed the distance between them, cupping her face with both hands, then crashed his lips into hers in a kiss that was both desperate and tender. A spark ignited between them as divine energy coursed through her body. A torrent of memories, his memories, poured into her mind.
She saw Rhyssand as a child playing with another boy; then she heard a scream, Rhyssand's. He was grown now, kneeling on the steps of the city gates, bent over a headstone, Jacques Ophelio, beloved son and brother, or rather, his cousin. He was the son of Ishtar's sister, Ereshkigal, and had been the closest thing Rhyssand had to a brother. To family. She saw the moment when his grief turned to wrath.
A sparrow landed on her windowsill, watching her quietly as she painted or paced, unaware that he was merely a portable Rhyssand; he indeed saw what the bird did. He saw everything. "Keep close to her," he instructed. "I want to know her movements, her routines, everything she hides. But do not get caught."
The memory shifted to the first time Rhyssand laid eyes on her, not as a person, but as a pawn in their plan. She felt his doubt upon watching her spar with her brother, her determination and strength lighting something foreign within him. She saw him standing beside Ishtar after nominating him to be ambassador. Then, the night he crossed the line, falling for her despite the plot he was a part of.
"Humanity's Crown Princess is not responsible for Jacques's death, nor the rebellion," Rhyssand objected quietly, though his words were careful. "Even so, what if she is not the darkness you claim? We would be killing an innocent."
Ishtar's gaze narrowed, her suspicion sharp. "Do not be a fool, Son. The prophecy is real, and it is coming for all of us. We must do what others will not. For the greater good." He shook his head. "Still, killing her outright will lead to more war, and by war, I mean everyone will die by her father's hand."
Ishtar scoffed; her son was right. "What would you do differently, my son?" She purred.
Then an idea. A fake idea that could be an idea…
"Why erase one life when we can burn down the entire dynasty? The mortal realm will turn on itself, causing imbalance. It would then be our right to step in, and then, only then, will we strike."
Ishtar's lips curled into a proud, wicked smile. "You think like a future king. Very well. But you will not fail me in this or else—we do it my way…"
Rhyssand bowed, hiding the flicker of doubt behind his eyes. He knew what her way was. That is why He needed to be right in this.
"For what I must do, I cannot be bound by an engagement."
"Very well… I have the perfect man for her," she chuckled.
Rhyssand's role was crucial in this stage.
To ensure that Gilgamesh would have no allies strong enough to intervene. He purposefully left his confrontation with Artizea at a draw. He needed her weakened, her confidence shaken, but still alive to witness her family's fall. Arthuria, a warrior in her own right, had long ago made a vow never to wield Excalibur. Bound by her oath, she would never break. Elaine, the youngest Pendragon, mysteriously disappeared. Though she was later found unharmed. It was the bait. Eugene, the brilliant but often misunderstood son, became a target of manipulation. Doubt was planted in his mind. The cracks in his relationship with his father widened, eventually leading to the Prince fleeing the castle walls in frustration. Fueling his insecurities, driving him to open up to Rhyssand's teachings, and what could be better than weakening their defenses during the process with guidance.
Then came the memory that would break her. Madeline. She saw the goddess cloaking herself in the form of her loyal servant, whom she once called a friend, who had always been so careful, so dutiful, and had once believed to harbor feelings for Eric, but in truth, there was nothing but love and loyalty to her Princess. Ishtar had exploited that, weaving her web of lies and seduction. Eric had resisted at first, his love for Artizea stronger than even a goddess's charm, but Ishtar was relentless, and when her mission was complete, she discarded Madeline entirely, shipping her off onto a farmer's wagon. The real Madeline, frightened and confused, had no idea why her life had been ripped apart.
Then the cherry on the mountain.
Rhyssand stepped forward, his expression calm but resolute. "Killing her will not save us, Az, there is another way…one that benefits us."
Azeraphel scoffed. "That is a myth, and you know it."
"It is not. Her father is living proof that it can be done. And because of the degree…She will die after—her body will not withstand the incompatibility—but before that, we will have what we need. A bridge, a permanent opening within a sky that always belonged to us."
"Then you should know there is a price for you too."
"I will pay it." Rhyssand just stopped there, motionless, "Human women are said to be very fertile; it should not take long."
When the final memory faded, they tore apart from a burst of light that seared between them. They stared, wide-eyed, as the truth sank in. They were Equal now. But at what cost?
Artizea stumbled away from him, her chest heaving, "You knew." Her voice cracked, "You knew all of it." She stared at him, her mind a whirlwind of emotions—anger, hurt, love, and confusion. "You lied to me… You were using me," she whispered, tears streaming down her face.
"At first, you were part of a plan. Yes, But—"
Crack
Artizea's palm connected with his cheek, the sharp crack echoing in the quiet of the lake. "Don't you dare–" she shouted, "You invaded my life. My privacy."
Rhyssand did not move at all. He simply stood there, letting the fire of her slap burn on his skin, literally. "I deserved that," he said softly.
"—You deserve worse—" she growled, her hand trembling when she lowered it. "But then what? Everything changed?" she demanded, her voice breaking. "That you saw me for me? Did I make you question everything?" She let out a bitter laugh, "I have heard it all before."
"I did not expect you to be the most perfect human being ever to grace this plane; I did not even think it was possible." Rhyssand admitted."—Because somewhere along the words of 'I hate you' became more than just an understanding…"
Artizea's hands clenched at her sides. "You used me. You put my family in danger - like they were pawns. Eugene, my baby brother, who does not so much as take his eyes off a book, looks up to you! While everything you have ever told me was a lie! Everything I thought was real was a lie…"
"It was not a lie— none— of it ever could be," Rhyssand said, stepping closer. His voice softened, but there was an urgency in it. "I wanted to tell you the truth a thousand times—"
"But you did not—" she cut him off. "Because the truth did not serve your purpose."
He flinched at that, his jaw tightening. "You're right," he said after a moment. "At first, I did not tell you because I was afraid of losing control of the plan," he paused. "Later, I did not tell you because I was afraid of losing you."
Artizea's breath hitched at his words, but she forced herself to stand tall, to keep her walls up. "You already did," she said, her voice trembling with the weight of her pain.
Rhyssand's expression softened, "I was stalling your execution, that's all I ever meant to do," he reached out as if to touch her cheek, but stopped himself. "Everything I did before you, I thought it was for the greater good. I thought I was doing what needed to be done."
Artizea turned away from him, her arms wrapping around herself as fresh tears she'd been holding back finally fell. "Am I…?"
"I did not will it—even if there was an anomaly of a chance, it would be too soon to tell…"
"You know all truth!" she snapped, whipping around.
His jaw clenched. "There is always…a small chance."
Artizea's eyes fluttered shut, her hand flying to her stomach as hot tears streamed down her face. "Did you know…"
"—I swear on your mother roses, Artizea…
"Don't you bring my mother's people into this—" Artizea snarled.
Rhyssand's wings twitched as he attempted to continue, "I had… and have no intention of carrying out that plan— you have to believe me…please, believe me," he pleaded.
"Did you know!" Her voice deepened with an echo that made him step back.
Rhyssand then took a deep breath, "By the time I understood what could still happen, I panicked. That's why I left. Why I pulled away. I cannot be near you… without endangering you. I cannot trust myself around you… For I cannot even trustmyself—" he rasped.
"Itrusted you…" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "And I hate that I still want to…"
"Artizea…" Rhyssand whispered. "Please… go home."
Her breath hitched. "I lied… one more question." Her voice trembled. "Did Eric love me?"
Tears spilled freely down her cheeks.
"As much as any human could…" he said softly.
Artizea bobbed her head. Her eyes lingered on her one last time before stepping back. Staying true to her word—this time— she would leave.
For good.
ARTHUR
Droplets of rain started to pound relentlessly against the palace grounds' gravel, as thunder rolled in the distance. Arthur stood at the main gate, his arms crossed, his posture rigid, while he waited. His instincts told him Artizea would return here, eventually. For better or for worse, that was his sister. She needed Him.
Through the downpour, he spotted her figure approaching. Her steps were slow and unsteady, her hair clung to her face, her clothes were soaked through and muddied at the hem from the journey back.
"Artizea," Arthur called out, cutting through the sound of the rain.
At the sound of his voice, her body trembled, stopping dead in her tracks. For a moment, she stood there, her chest rising and falling as though battling an invisible force within herself. Then quickly collapsed to her knees, her hands clutching the soaked ground beneath her.
He was at her side in an instant, forsaking the newly stitched wound and healers' warnings.
"Tiz," he murmured. He knelt in the dirt and pulled her into his arms. She did not resist. "I'm sorry—" he said.
"Arthur," she choked out, her voice breaking, "You were right…You're always right…"
"I did not wish to be, this time."
"I am tired, Little brother…" she cried out. "I'm so tired…"
Arthur's grip tightened around her, shielding her as best he could from the rain. Her sobs muffled against his chest, above his heart and core, that clenched painfully at the sight of her like this.
Sir James approached them hesitantly, his concern evident. "Your Highness, is there anything I can do—"
Arthur snapped his head up; his awakened blue eyes beamed so brightly that they rivaled the moon. "Don't!" he barked, immediately feeling.
Sir James quickly stepped back, bowing his head before retreating to his post.
They stayed there for hours, the rain drenching them both. To anyone else, Artizea was the Crown Princess. But to Arthur, she was his big sister, the one he had sworn in blood to protect no matter what.
It was a sacred, unknown place that Eugene had found.
Arthur, just fourteen, knelt before the altar with a determined expression. Though the second-born, he carried himself with the steady resolve of an older brother. In his hand, her dagger glinted under the moonlight.
Artizea, who was fifteen, watched him silently, "Arthur, you do not have to do this," she said softly, stepping closer. "I am the eldest—"
"This is not about age, Tiz—" Arthur interrupted firmly, his voice steady despite the faint quiver in his hand. He looked up at her, his eyes fierce with determination. "Let me do what needs to be done."
Artizea opened her mouth to argue, but stopped when she saw the resolve in his gaze. Behind her, Elaine tugged on Eugene's sleeve.
"What is he doing?" she whispered.
Eugene sighed, "He's being Arthur," he muttered, though his eyes held a flicker of admiration. As Arthur raised the blade to his palm, Eugene moved quickly, covering Elaine's eyes. "You do not need to see this," he said firmly.
"But—" Elaine began to protest, but He cut her off with a glare.
"No—" they protested in union.
Arthur drew in a slow, steady breath before pressing the blade to his palm. A sharp sting followed as steel parted flesh, and blood welled against the edge. The dagger shuddered in his grip, its veins glowing as the black crystal bled into a deep, burning ruby. He closed his eyes, the pain grounding him, and spoke the ancient words;
"By the blood of the great kings in my veins, may the gods bear witness as I swear this sacred vow, upon my brother's garden of roses. Upon every fallen petal, upon every fallen child, man and knight"
"I stand as a shield and sword "
"To protect my sister, not for glory, not for riches, but to guard their life with my own."
"No matter the cost, no matter the pain."
"This promise shall only be undone when one stronger than I rises to bear it."
And if such a day should come, may they love her as fiercely as I do. He thought.
" Utai le'frey, calan com'sarë."
Upon reciting those final words, the air seemed to hum with an invisible energy, a sign of the vow's acceptance.
Eugene lowered his hand from Elaine's eyes, who immediately pouted.
"I missed it!"
Artizea stepped forward, her expression conflicted. She placed a gentle hand on her brother's now uninjured hand, as though it never happened. "Why?" she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Because I know that whatever comes," Arthur said, meeting her gaze. "You will need me. We will all need each other. And I will not let anything happen to you. To any of us."
Artizea hesitated for a moment before pulling him into a hug. "Thank you…" she whispered against his shoulder. "But I am not going anywhere, Brother, not before you, that is."
Arthur chuckled while holding on to her.
From behind, Eugene yawned dramatically. "We are all unfortunately stuck with you regardless. If you finished biology, you would know what DNA is…" he said, folding his arms.
Elaine, still confused but feeling left out, tugged on Arthur's sleeve. "Does this mean you are our knight now? Like in mother's stories?"
Arthur knelt to her level, ruffling her hair. "It means I am your big brother. And no matter what, I will always protect you," glancing at Eugene with a smirk, "Whether I want to or not."
Ending Playlist
TO BE CONTINUED