Page 35 of His Darkest Devotion

I swallow. “Then we can’t just hide. We must find a way to stop them or… handle it. The prophecy—” My voice falters, memories of the Matriarch’s vision crashing into me.I might be the only one capable of sealing them again.Or unleashing them, if I’m not careful.

She squeezes my arm gently. “The Matriarch wants to keep you safe, but some of the elders fear you’ll unintentionally free them with your chaotic power. All these rumors about your contact with a Dark Elf aren’t helping. People panic, suspecting you might be manipulated into unleashing the gargoyles.”

The stew sours in my stomach. “I’d never do that. Gods, Olyssia, you know me.”

She must see the anguish in my eyes because she nods quickly. “I do. But fear twists people’s minds.”

My gaze drops to the half-empty bowl.Gargoyles, the Red Purnas, the Overlord… all converging on me.My hand trembles on the spoon. “I can’t let the gargoyles roam free to slaughter innocents,” I say quietly, “nor can I allow the Red Purnas or the Overlord to use me as a weapon.”

She brushes a stray curl from her brow. “So what do we do?”

My throat constricts. “If the gargoyles truly wake, we must be ready to seal them again. That means I have to learn more about the spell that trapped them in the first place—how the Purna did it long ago. Maybe we can replicate or strengthen it.” My lips press together. “The Matriarch has records, I’m sure, but she’s always been reluctant to share the full details. The cost was high. Many purnas died casting that magic. Still, it might be our only chance.”

Olyssia nods, though apprehension lines her face. “I’ll help you. But you’ll have to convince the Matriarch and elders to trust you enough for that knowledge.”

I grimace. They already question my loyalty. “I’ll do whatever it takes.” I set the bowl aside and reach for her hand, holding it tight. “Thank you,” I whisper.

She squeezes back, offering a small smile. “Rest a bit more. Then we’ll approach the Matriarch together. We might have to wait until morning. The elders are convening about new wards as we speak.”

I nod, leaning back against the pillow. Anxiety hums in my veins, but I’m too weary to argue. “Yes… morning,” I repeat, letting the word settle. My eyelids grow heavy once more. Olyssia strokes my hand reassuringly, a silent gesture of support.

Sleep claims me in fitful waves, but in the dark corners of my dreams, I see flickers of gargoyles shattering their stone prisons, wings scraping across cavern ceilings. I hear roars that rattle my bones, sense chaos swallowing the land. And behind it all, Vaelin’s voice calls my name—a plea or a warning, I’m not certain.

When morning finally creeps into my chamber, the anxiety remains, sharper now. I rouse to find Olyssia dozing in a nearby chair, arms folded. I shift, wincing at my sore muscles. My mind instantly recalls the day’s urgency: gargoyles stirring, Red Purnas on the warpath, the Overlord’s relentless pursuit.I can’t let fear paralyze me.

Easing off the bed, I stretch my stiff limbs, rotate my injured shoulder. It still hurts, but at least I can move. My clothes are wrinkled, dusty from travel and conflict. I rummage in an old chest, pulling out a fresh tunic and leggings, then lace up my boots. Olyssia stirs at the noise, blinking blearily.

“You’re up early,” she mumbles, yawning. “Did you sleep at all?”

“Some,” I answer, tugging the tunic over my head. My hair is a tangled mess, so I quickly braid it, ignoring stray wisps. “We have work to do.”

Her gaze sharpens with resolve. “Right. Let’s see the Matriarch.”

We exit my chamber, the corridor more active than last night. I sense the tension thrumming in the air—purnas whispering in worried clusters, novices darting around with armfuls of supplies for wards. They eye me warily, some with open suspicion. My gut twists.They wonder if I’m still on their side.

At the Grand Hall, we find the Matriarch surrounded by elders and a few senior purnas. They appear deep in discussion about ward placements, lines of protective runes, and the possibility of Red Purna infiltration. The sight of me hushes their chatter.

Lumeria inclines her head, expression guarded. “Elira, you’re awake. Feeling stronger?”

I nod. “Yes, Matriarch. I need to ask you something crucial.” My voice wavers, but I press on. “The gargoyles are stirring, and we have limited time before they might break free. I want access to the old records detailing how they were sealed before. I need to understand the spell.”

A ripple of uneasy murmurs passes among the elders. One of them, Elder Falene—whose presence I failed to notice earlier—steps forward, tall and austere. “Those records are restricted. The rituals used then were dangerous beyond measure. We nearly lost our entire coven in that conflict.”

My heart clenches. “I know the risks, but if the gargoyles awaken fully, countless lives will be lost. We must prepare. The prophecy… it points to me, doesn’t it?” I glance at Lumeria, hating the tremor in my voice. “If I’m meant to seal them or free them, I’d rather choose sealing. But I need knowledge to ensure I don’t trigger the opposite.”

Lumeria’s brow knits. She trades a somber look with the elders, then sighs. “You speak sense, child. Yet many here fear giving you such power, worried about your… experiences beyond the coven. They’re unsure where your loyalty lies.”

I stiffen. “My loyalty is here. I’m not colluding with the Overlord or the Red Purnas. I returned to protect our people, not betray them.”

Falene’s sharp gaze probes me. “We can’t ignore the possibility you’ve been swayed by outside influence, intentionally or not. The cost of misusing that ritual is catastrophic.”

Frustration surges. Olyssia steps forward, an edge in her voice. “She’s risked her life to warn us. Shouldn’t that count for something? The gargoyles won’t wait while we bicker. And the Red Purnas certainly won’t.”

Yvara nods in cautious agreement. “We can’t remain paralyzed by doubt. Time is slipping away.”

Sarene steeples her fingers, expression grave. “Perhaps a compromise. We allow Elira partial access. We guide her carefully, ensuring she doesn’t attempt the ritual alone.”

A tense pause follows, then Lumeria lifts her hand, signaling for quiet. “We will do this in measured steps,” she pronounces. “Elira, gather your strength. You may access certain relevant documents under direct supervision of the elders. Falene and Yvara will oversee. If you truly mean to seal the gargoyles again, let us ensure you have the knowledge to do so responsibly.”

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