Lost in a chapter

Seven

Solis obeyed his brother Sylvain’s command, gathering Sylvarune’s army despite the resentment simmering beneath his obedience. That fleeting moment had changed everything. In Solis’s heart, there was no doubt, he was Theanna’s true mate. He felt her pull, a magnetic force drawing him in. The thought of her belonging to Sylvain twisted like a knife, a pain that threatened to consume him entirely. She must be mine. This feeling can’t be the Fayb’s magic, it just can’t. It feels… real. But what if it’s not?

Yet his loyalty to Sylvain, the High King, kept him rooted. Solis was determined to find the Fayb, not only for Theanna but to uncover the truth shrouding their lives. The weight of loyalty pressed down on him, suffocating, as doubts clawed at his resolve. First, he claims Marthos, now Theanna. Only the Fayb’s undoing will tell if this bond is real. I need to know, because this constant pull to protect her, it’s making me question everything, even my loyalty to him.

Sylvain’s voice sliced through his turmoil. “Stand the soldiers down,” he commanded, his figure an imposing silhouette framed by Jevarune’s misty veil, an imposing shadow against the rising tension in the air. Solis frowned, his confusion cutting through the fog of emotion. “Why?”

“Change of plans,” Sylvain replied, his tone sharp and measured, his expression unreadable. “She’s left Aurathen. You and I will need to find the Fayb before she does. Who knows what she seeks from it? Then, we’ll wait for her to come to us.”

Sylvain kept his words steady, but beneath his icy demeanour, his thoughts churned. Theanna. What are you doing? Now that I know you are my true mate, I won't let you break this bond, and If you think I’ll let you risk everything with another deal, you’re mistaken. A deal for a deal only leads to ruin.



Solis studied his brother’s expression, searching for cracks in his usual stoic mask, and for the briefest moment, he thought he saw something, hesitation, even worry, but it vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. The flicker of weakness in Sylvain’s gaze both startled and intrigued him. Does he fear her? hate her? Or is he planning her demise once again? I won’t let him harm her. Never again.

“I just want her safe, what do you want? Will you try to kill her again?” His voice was sharp, his fury barely contained. Sylvain turned towards him, his icy gaze piercing through the mist. “No,” he said, his words carrying the weight of unspoken truths. “I want the Fayb’s deal broken, the deal her parents made has unknowingly plagued us long enough. It needs to end.”

Sylvain’s icy tone masked the storm brewing inside him. The memories of Marthos clawed at the edge of his thoughts, years of constant yearning and being bound to someone who wanted nothing but his death. Theanna’s parents thought they could cheat fate by making a deal with the Fayb. Did they know it would ripple through the centuries, binding her to me at last? This has punished me long enough, trapping me in love for centuries to Marthos, a cruel mate that was never mine. I’ll prove to Theanna that I’m not the cold, calculating ruler everyone believes I am.

Solis narrowed his eyes. “I want the same thing, but what if she’s mine?”

Sylvain took a deliberate step closer, his piercing gaze locking onto his brothers with unyielding intensity. “Look,” he began, his tone softening ever so slightly, yet heavy with the weight of centuries. “We’ve ruled together for centuries, Solis. We’ve survived enemies, rebellions, and treachery. Don’t let this change what we’ve built.”

Sylvain’s plea lingered in the air, a delicate balance of loyalty, authority, and unspoken power. For a fleeting moment, Solis hesitated the pull of duty tightening around him like the searing heat of the Thoradian deserts. I’ve followed him through war, through bloodshed, through rebellion. But for her… for Theanna… I would walk away from it all. I need to find the Fayb as badly as he does, but for my reasons, not his.

“You’re known in Aetheris as the Prince of Death,” Sylvain reminded him, his voice cutting through the mist with the sharpness of memory. “Don’t let the Fayb’s magic soften you.” Solis straightened his tunic, moving slowly as though piecing himself back together after a fracture. He reminded himself of his title, the Prince of Death. Yet the name weighed heavy, burdened with the destruction of Thoradian. The echoes of their screams now audible in his mind. Will she ever forgive us, forgive me? I was the one who ended her parents, their pleads to save their daughters and my order to slaughter them, I can never let her know this, it would destroy her.

Sylvain tapped his shoulder, his gesture commanding. “Come on. We need to move quickly. The sooner this Thoradian deal is undone, the better,” Sylvain said, leaving his brother to grapple with his thoughts. He’ll see soon. He feels for Theanna the way I once felt for Marthos, an obsessive love born of chains, not choice. But Theanna freed me from that cage, and now she is mine, a bond forged by fate, not manipulation.

Solis lingered for a moment, his thoughts heavy. If the Fayb’s magic is broken, and Sylvain is the true mate, will this bond I feel vanish like mist in the morning? Or will this need to protect her stay, haunting me forever?

Sylvarune’s spies whispered across Aetheris, their networks sprawling into the unclaimed lands, barren, inhospitable regions untouched by Sylvarune or Aurathen. These desolate terrains were ripe with mystery, and their intelligence pointed toward Emberfell, a realm of volcanic heat and searing landscapes. Most Aerithals avoided its fiery creatures, yet the Fayb had been spotted there, slithering unseen amidst molten rivers and bubbling springs.