Page 115 of The Ninth Element

He finally turns to me. There is a pause where I’m certain he is waiting for me, but I do nothing but sit there, my gaze still downcast.

“The fact that you can’t even look at me… it tells me she revealed something about me. But regardless of what she told you, I owe you the whole truth, from my own lips.” He pauses again, then, with a quiet, almost defeated resignation, he says, “My name is Darian Dartheon. The last surviving man of the Dartheon line, besides my father, High Lord Demar Dartheon.”

His voice is flat, devoid of any hint of pride or entitlement. It’s as if his lineage is a poisonous shackle he can’t escape.

“I didn’t hide my identity to protect our mission because I knew Martysh must know who I was. I just wanted to shed the burden of my heritage,even for a little while. To be just… Darian. Not Dartheon.” A bitter edge creeps into his tone. “I despise my family, Arien. There are few men I hate more than my own father. Dartheons are a curse upon Izadeon. I’ve spent my entire life suffocating under the shame of their legacy, being judged by association.” He takes a shaky breath. “That’s why I’m here. I can’t change my blood, but I can damn well choose a different path. I refuse to be like them. We came here to learn how to unlock the power of the earth fragment, to take control of our own destiny, and stop relying on Martysh, or anyone else, to save us.”

I still can’t look at him. My gaze is now fixed on my clenched hands, but I can feel the intensity of his stare burning into me. He knows that Lirael has revealed his secrets. My lack of surprise is a confession in itself.

He draws another deep, shuddering breath. “When the soldiers returned with Bernold and Faelas’s father’s bodies, we were shattered. But even in our grief, we knew something was wrong. Bernold’s assistants were acting strangely secretive. They retreated to his crypt, refusing to let us near his writings. They collected all of his belongings and shipped them off to Firelands before we could even understand what was happening. We never found out how he’d found the earth fragment or what he was doing in that cursed place where he died. All I found was a small pouch hidden in my room. A piece of rock was inside, along with a note that claimed the rock held the power to move mountains if unlocked. It warned me, in no uncertain terms, to keep it hidden and guard it from my father and his fellow Ahiras. To protect it with my life.

“It was a few days before I turned sixteen. I didn’t know who to trust except for Bahador, his father, and Faelas. For thirteen years, we’ve been trying to piece together the puzzle. We knew Firelands and sorcerous Daevas had hidden bases in our land, searching for something, but we assumed it was the stone Bernold left behind in my room. We were blind, Arien. We didn’t know about the Star or its fragments. We only learned the truth here when I accidentally saw you breaking into Martyshyar’s wing and joined. I saw the place where Bernold was murdered marked on that map. And many places that seemed like Martysh was looking forsomething. And then, when Faelas impulsively asked you to eavesdrop on the Martysh folks in the tavern. None of that was planned. I swear it.”

His voice hardens. “Learning about the Star and its fragments in that tavern changed everything. It raised a thousand questions. What was it? How many fragments were there? Who could wield their power? At that point, we knew that we needed your help to unravel the mystery. But it was all for nothing. Martysh knew why we were here. They let us run around, searching, because it didn’t matter. We weren’t a threat. We used the invisibility potion to infiltrate the Martyshyar wing. That’s where Kamran caught us and told us that they’d known all these years that we had the earth fragment.”

He falls silent. I can feel his eyes on me. I find myself wondering what shade of blue his eyes are at this moment. I have seen them in every light and every mood. A lighter, almost playful blue in the chaos of the arena. A serene blue like the endless sky, when we walked in the mountains. A deep, comforting blue during the times we sat by the fire, sharing stories and laughter. And a middle hue, like the vast expanse of the sea, as we navigated the streets of Shemiran.

The realization that I know the nuances of his eye color so well sends a wave of bittersweet longing through me. What shade of blue do they hold now? I can no longer bear the suspense.

Slowly, I lift my gaze, meeting his eyes. They are stormy and cloudy blue, filled with a raw emotion that I can’t even name. As I look at them, the world seems to fall away, leaving only the two of us suspended in a moment of tangled feelings.

“Is that why you got close to me?” I whisper.

His face twists and a spasm of pain crosses his features. He steps toward me and drops to his knees before me in a sudden, unexpected movement. His hands reach out to enclose mine, forcing me to meet his gaze. The contact sends a wave of emotions through me.

“No,” he says, his voice firm, his eyes burning into mine. “I swear to you, Arien, on Bahador’s life, on Faelas’s, oneverythingI hold dear—my intentions were never that calculated. You intrigued me after the first trial.You were interesting. But you kept your distance, and I…” He hesitates, searching for the right words. “During the second trial, seeing those Ahiras’s contempt… it sparked something in me. Maybe protectiveness. And then we were allies. We became friends. I never expected that, Arien. I never expected to connect with an Ahira, to care about one.” He pauses, his grip on my hands tightening slightly.

“It was only after what we heard in the tavern when we were struggling to find information about the Star that Faelas suggested asking for your help. I was reluctant, but I thought… I thought we could help you win, and you could help us access the information we need. A mutually beneficial arrangement. It seemed… clean. Logical. Safe. I was wrong. So terribly wrong.” He closes his eyes for a moment, and pain contorts his features.

“It was in the wilderness that changed everything. Seeing you risk everything to keep me safe while I was lying to you, deceiving you about who I really was… it made me sick with shame. And then, in that cottage, seeing you so desperate to win… it broke something inside me. I realized I was no better than my family. I was just like the people I despised. I was about to ask for your help, risking your chances in the trials while lying to you.” He opens his eyes, his gaze locking onto mine, pleading for understanding. “I couldn’t go with that plan anymore. I couldn’t bear to keep deceiving you. That’s why I excluded you from our mission. I didn’t deserve your friendship or your trust. I was ashamed.”

His sincerity is disarming, and his plea sounds genuine. But I can’t allow myself to be swayed again. And I don’t even crave it. After all, it doesn’t matter if I believe him or not. The trial looms ahead, and regardless of my choice, that will be the end of our connection. This is likely our very last conversation.

“Arien, please believe me. I know I don’t deserve your trust, but I’m not lying to you now.”

“Why does it matter?” I counter with a hollow voice. “You’re not joining Martysh. Soon, we will be strangers. Why do you care if I believe you?”

“Because I want you to come with us to Izadeon,” he says with fierce determination.

I search his eyes for any hint of deception or mockery but find only earnestness. Then, a chilling thought takes root in my heart. Does he know about the sorceresses and their ability to wield the power of the fragments? But how could he? Even Lirael had to test it first to be sure.

“Why?” I ask with a frown.

“Because you will be miserable here. And we need you in Izadeon. Arien, all three of us care for you deeply. We can have adventures. We can unravel the mystery of the Star’s fragment together. I know I have no right to ask for your help, but are you truly certain this is the life you want? The Martysh life? Bound by an oath forever?”

His words mirror the doubts that have plagued me since I locked myself in this room. For a moment, I envision a life with them—sharing meals, laughter, and adventures with Darian, Bahador, and Faelas. The thought sparks a pang of excitement somewhere deep in my core. Somewhere that I thought was hollow and numb…

No!

I quickly banish the dream. It is just another illusion. Another deception.

“Darian,” I say, my voice wavering slightly, trying to inject a note of practicality into this increasingly surreal conversation, “if I lose this trial, I have to return to Firelands. I can’t just wander around the continent.”

He meets my gaze with a fierce sincerity in his eyes. “When we wake up in the valley, I’ll come with you to Firelands. Then I’ll take you back with us to Izadeon.”

My head is throbbing with a dull ache behind my eyes. “Darian. Firelands would not send an Ahira to Izadeon. Especially not a fourth-ringed sorceress.”

His expression hardens, and a flicker of that aristocratic steel returns. “They will. I have something Emmengar needs. I know how to negotiate with him.”

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