Page 204 of The Myths of Ophelia
The sphinx nodded.
“So,” I began, fingers curling around the shard of Angelborn at my neck, “my combination of Angelblood and Godsblood and these emblems are the key to unleashing this Warrior God upon Ambrisk?” Another silent nod. “And if I don’t, this Angelcurse will transfer to the next Alabath? To Jezebel and all who come after us?”
“Yes,” the sphinx said, and there was no echo of the melodic tone in her voice. Nothing persuasive or malicious. If anything, she sounded a bit remorseful. “You must do it, Ophelia Alabath. Complete the Angelcurse, unleash the god so that my mistress and all the Angels may roam freely again.”
That struck me. “The Angels…” Damien’s stilted presence, his inability to return recently. “They’re locked away with the god, aren’t they?”
Melancholy dimmed her stare. “Ascension Day was more than the Angels assuming their full scope of power and leaving this plane. It was an immediate removal of it all and fragments left behind, though that part is left out of the stories thanks to the known gods. The day you all celebrate and honor your Angels—the one to renew your promises as warriors—was the darkest day in our history.”
My gut churned.
“The Warrior God had already been imprisoned, but he was becoming restless, so the known gods reinforced their locks. They tricked the Angels into that prison with him, as well as many creatures under their domain or with tethers to the god, using their residual magic to seal the doors. The sphinxes, the pegasus, the khrysaor, and all the others—we were all gone shortly after.”
“The khrysaor?” Jezebel gasped, anger flaming in her eyes.
The sphinx turned to her. “There were once so many more of them than the two you now know. They carry the blood of the Warrior God himself, as does the pegasus.”
“Is that how she emerged?”
“What do you mean?” Jez asked.
“Zanoxbledwhen he crashed through Ricordan’s manner. It sprayed everywhere, triggered Sapphire’s transformation.” The searing pain that had radiated through my body echoed now.
And gradually, every piece was sliding into place, like a veil was lifted across my mind now that I had them.
“That was the last step in Kakias’s ritual. My active Angelblood was why she neededmespecifically to become immortal, but that ingredient we forgot…” I racked my memory, and finally, as if the Spirits were waiting until I’d understand to allow me to remember. “The power of the fallen,” I gasped.
The Fallen God.
“He has been referred to as such, yes. The queen obtained and used his power in ways I do not understand,” the sphinx confirmed. “And when your khrysaor bled, it sealed the reversal.”
“How did Kakias find out about the Godsblood and the Warrior God?” I asked. “How did Annellius if all of the stories were rewritten?”
“As I have said, all magics have loopholes to balance them. You were able to wake me for the full story, but Annellius sought it out. He dug into myths and found tales that did not align. Rearranged the inconsistencies as if they were a puzzle to be solved.” The sphinx’s chest inflated. “Confirmed it with your Angel himself, though he could not speak of it.”
I swallowed over a dry throat.
“And Kakias?”
“Bant shed his spirit into her. It transferred unspeakable knowledge, though the queen was so singularly focused, she did not wish to use it.”
It should have soothed a piece of the uncertainty gnawing at my mind to finally have this one answer. But there were too many others to focus on for relief.
“The rest of the khrysaor and pegasus,” Jez said, returning back to that question, “they live?”
“They wait, sleeping in the stone. Lesser, now forgotten gods and beasts born of them all lurk. Slowly, so very slowly, things are unraveling. The ether seeping through the world is budging at the growing hands of the Warrior God.” She leveled us with a stare. “He is growing stronger for the reckoning.”
“The dying land,” I said, voice hollow, “the unusual Rites of Dusk, the fires, and tainted creatures. It’s all because of this isn’t it?”
“It is.” She bowed her head, seeming to appreciate our understanding of the severity.
Ambrisk itself was rebelling against this god being locked up. The known gods had each given a kernel of magic to trap the Warrior God, but magic was a force impossible to control. It was unraveling.
We’d noticed it so many months back; how long had this truly been going on? Had it been mounting since I was born?Since those first drops of Angelblood mingled with Godsblood in the Alabath line?
I tightened my grip around Damien’s emblem, seeking some sort of stability.
“What does all of this have to do with thefel strella mythos?”
