Page 45 of The Stolen Throne
Eidolon’s ghost continues. “These writings describe how the world was formed out of chaos by the mother goddess. In the beginning, Nova uttered her name, and the world came to be. An infinite expanse of deep, beautiful waters.”
My frown deepens. “You left out the monsters.”
I’ve been taught this history since my birth. The waters Nova made were teeming with the Devourers, according to our most sacred knowledge. Now there are only a handful left.
The king’s eyes fill not with agreement but with a stark bitterness that almost has me drawing away from him. “The monsters in my story come later.”
The monsters come later? What is that supposed to mean?
“From these waters, Nova brought forth the dominions as one land. But the mother goddess was lonely. One day, she surrounded herself in darkness and shed from herself five shadows.”
Shadows. Shed her shadows. Oh my goddess, is this specter telling me Eidolon’s power—and Reven’s power—is the same as the mother goddess herself?
I have to take a long breath to deal with that new bit of information.
I glance around the clear night sky, practically expecting a lightning bolt to appear out of nothing and fry him where he sits for his daring to make such a bold claim. But none comes. The goddesses have been silent in their Allusian heavens for a long time now. I shouldn’t be surprised.
Eidolon’s mouth twitches before he continues. “Each shadow of Nova’s grew in loveliness until she formed into a solid being, a goddess in her own right—Nova’s daughters: Aryd, Mariana, Wildernyss, Tropikis, and the twins who split the fifth shadow in two, Tyndra and Savanah. And each took a piece of their mother with her, a piece of her powers. When her daughters were fully formed, Nova split the lands and granted her daughters each a portion to shape and create and rule as she wished.”
“The dominions,” I whisper. I can’t help myself.
This doesn’t sound familiar. Maybe this is why Grandmother always used to say that history isn’t always truth. That it can change with the perspective of the person telling it. Is this what the king believes?
Eidolon nods. “And all six of the goddesses brought forth life—plants and animals and landscapes matching her individual likes, dislikes, and imaginations. Each dominion as harshly and beautifully different as each goddess for which they are named: Savanah’s wide-open grasslands and plains. Tyndra’s frozen ice sheets. Mariana’s balmy beaches. Wildernyss’s forested mountains. Tropikis’s jungles and rainforests. And my home, the scorching deserts ruled by the Goddess Aryd.”
I already know this.
“But,” Eidolon continues, “Nova’s daughters, too, were lonely. So, the mother goddess formed of the elements a new kind of creature—humans. None with powers, though.”
Vexillium, or Vex as we call them.
“She bade her daughters to find their consorts, their heartmates, among the beings that sprang up, and rule their lands together in contentment and peace. Unfortunately, the human creatures Nova had gifted her daughters were too frail and powerless and mortal. So, in a final act of love, Nova gave to her daughters her heart, which she took from her own breast.”
Wait, what? I’m frowning so hard I’m giving myself a headache, because this is not the history I know, but it sounds so…true. Is this some ploy? What if Eidolon is projecting himself to lure me out? Or trying to confuse me with false information?
“Each goddess gave her consort a single piece of Nova’s heart to eat, and with that, those six frail humans gained supernatural powers. They weren’t quite gods, as the goddesses were more powerful, and they weren’t Imperium like some humans are now, either, because the goddesses’ consorts also gained immortality. They could now rule at their lovers’ sides forever.”
I swallow.
“Through the direct descendants of the goddesses and their consorts, the Imperium were born. Humans with powers but no immortality.”
Says the ghost of a man who has sat on his throne for ages. But I know how he does that, so I say nothing.
“As you know, these powers have been passed as inherited traits from generation to generation. Over time, Imperium split into two factions. The Hylorae, like you, and the Enfernae, like me.” He lifts his chin a proud fraction. “Only soon the humans, growing in number and greed, rose up against their goddesses and their consorts.”
I’m rapt at this point. If this is true… But how can it be?
“In order to put down the uprisings, the consorts needed more power. In a desperate bid, they ate more of Nova’s heart. Only something in the magic went wrong, and, to the goddesses’ eternal despair, their mates became monsters.”
Monsters. Not dead? Not…
I gasp. “The Devourers?”
“Well done,” he says. Like I’m a good little girl for figuring that out. Holy hells. Why am I letting myself believe any of this? Eidolon—no matter the incarnation—is a liar.
It takes one to know one.
What about Reven? He’s not a liar. Not all the pieces of Eidolon were bad, he said. And if this is really one of the first versions of the king…
