Page 117 of Jeweler to the Blessed
“Still, the firstborn worshipped Themis, right? Wouldn’t it have been an honor?”
“Isn’t it an honor for those in Kavios to become Blessed? Think of how you feel about the mandate Rodric is forcing on you. I know it’s not the same, but … much can lose its luster when required to do it,” Hart said.
“So we’re back to the point—what the Cursed King is known for—Themis’s Champion had no choice in his summoning, which he rejected. What did he do?”
Hart was silent for a beat. “He searched for any way to change his fate. One such path included discovering how to harness magic with the adamas.”
“You’re saying the Cursed King, the firstborn, is responsible for trapping the captive we’re trying to free? And for … creating the Blessed?”
This didn’t make sense. The Cursed King worked with the Feared now, literally on the opposite side of the Blessed. But Hart nodded slowly in answer to my question.
“How did they source the gems? Was there a jeweler before Alaric?”
Something like disgust crossed Hart’s features. “The firstborn could feel the difference in the stone, much like you. He wasn’t a jeweler, but could work with one to ensure the integrity of the gem.” Hart shook his head. “At one point, he thought if others could wield Themis’s magic, maybe they could be her champion. Maybe it would mean he didn’t have to be.”
It felt like an animal was burrowing into my gut. I was nauseous thinking about the Cursed King’s choices and what they had led to. Some part of me understood wanting to escape the mandated fate … but at what cost? I wanted to ask if there was more to that part of the story, but Hart was already continuing.
“The Kingdom of Linia had already seen Chaos’s Champion challenge Order’s. When the other ideas failed, the firstborn knew the only way out of the summoning was to let Chaos’s Champion take the throne or die. He didn’t want to die, and he didn’t want to wait.”
What hubris of this man to challenge the timing of a goddess? He shouldn’t have survived. Even as I thought it, I knew there was more to the story. The Cursed King wasn’t destroyed. Chaos cursed him, but no one knew how.
“He sought Chaos,” Hart said. “An altar that shouldn’t have existed. A place he was not supposed to be, the firstborn raged against Eris. He wanted to face her or her champion right away. That was his choice.”
I wasn’t sure I was breathing. This was the part of the story I’d never heard.
“Chaos was not forgiving of his actions. He almost died then and there on the altar.”
He really should have died. It didn’t make sense that he was only cursed. “Why didn’t she kill him?” I asked.
“The queen intervened.”
The words held a sadness to them that the rest of the story had not. I waited through the silence until Hart continued.
“The queen was a loyal follower of Eris, though she’d married into the Glanmore family. She was the one who had made the altar upon which the firstborn stood. The queen begged for his life even as she offered her own. Eris wasn’t so cold to dismiss the request of her devoted. She would allow theintercession for the firstborn, but there would have to be a cost.”
The Cursed King was responsible for a lot of things I hated. For the fate of magicless citizens in this city, for the captive’s fate … Whether he intended so or not, whether he now worked against those offenses or not, those sins lay at his feet. Still, my heart clenched in my chest as I understood the cost of this action.
I knew the weight of a loved one bearing the burden of my calling. It was what my mother had done for me, after all.
“The queen gave her life,” he said. “The firstborn was cursed.”
“What was his curse?”
“I told you the champions don’t need adamas to wield. They wield magic based on their own emotions. Since the firstborn was responsible for discovering adamas, for creating the Blessed, Chaos wanted his fate to match what he’d brought upon others, but with a twist only she could appreciate.”
My heart pounded in my chest as I waited for his next words.
“The firstborn can only use his magic by taking from Chaos’s?—”
I turned to ask why he stopped. Hart was already racing toward me. But a rustle in the trees behind me told me he would be too late.
35
He’s a force to be reckoned with. If he chooses her, she’ll be safe.
— FROM CHAMPIONS OF KAVIOS
Iknew a blade would strike with my step, but I couldn’t stop it. The noise of shifting feet alerted me too late that someone lurked in the shadows, waiting for our passage. I may have been unprepared, but Hart wasn’t. Swift movements allowed him to slide between me and the blade.
