RHYSSAND
RHYSSAND'S FISTS WERE CLENCHING AT HIS SIDES. He stood stunned by the brutal reality of what had unfolded, struggling to find the words to explain himself. He had not known this part of Ishtar's plan. He had believed they were finally safe. He had thought that by drawing the battle with Artizea to a close, he had done enough to stop Ishtar's wrath. But Ishtar had anticipated his every move. She had used his feelings for Artizea as the ultimate distraction, and now, the family that had once been whole had been shattered beyond repair.
As Artizea's words echoed in his ears, Rhyssand felt a pang of guilt that struck at his very core. He had tried to protect her, but in doing so, he had betrayed everything they could have been. The monster Artizea spoke of was no longer a figure of myth or legend—it was him. He had helped Ishtar, and in doing so, he had let his affection for Artizea blind him to the consequences of his actions.
"Fin, talk to me about what's going on," he commanded.
But there was nothing but silence. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong…Until the bell had been rung, the realms were at war… no. He spread his celestial wings and launched into a summoned portal, heading straight for the Celestial realm. The gleaming palace materialized instantly, but as he approached the gates, an unsettling stillness met him.
The guards at the gates were missing. The council chambers were eerily silent. Besides from a. Few whispers when he walked by. The usual hum of beating wings was replaced by a foreboding void.
"Something's not right," Rhyssand muttered to himself.
His awakened golden eyes scan every shadow, every corner. For fin. His search took him to Ishtar's chambers—a place he had long avoided. The heavy doors creaked open, revealing an opulent room filled with relics of power and a palpable air of danger.
And there, in the center of the room, was Fin.
The small bird was trapped within a glowing cage, the bars pulsating with divine energy. He fluttered weakly, his usually sharp gaze dimmed with exhaustion.
"Fin!" Rhyssand exclaimed, rushing forward. The sparrow's eyes brightened at the sight of him. "Lord Rhyssand! Took you long enough."
"What happened?" Rhyssand asked as he examined the cage, his hands glowing faintly with celestial energy as he worked to dispel the runes binding Fin.
"The Queen—what do you think!" Fin exclaimed, his voice laced with urgency. "She's orchestrated everything—the challenge, the distractions. It is all a setup. She's planning to attack Babyloniya, and you were never supposed to know."
Rhyssand's hands faltered briefly, his breath hitching. "She knew I'd be here—knew I'd be distracted. That's why she invoked the Rite of Challenge."
Fin fluffed his feathers, his usual sarcasm dimmed by the weight of the moment. "Yeah, she played us both. Now get me out of here !"
With a surge of power, Rhyssand shattered the cage, catching Fin in his hands as the sparrow regained his strength."What's the plan, Rhys?" Fin asked, landing on his shoulder.
Rhyssand's gaze hardened as he stepped toward the armory hidden within the palace walls. He pulled open the ornate doors, revealing a gleaming set of celestial armor. Each piece radiated with divine energy, and the sight of it filled him with both dread and determination.
"The plan," he said, his voice steady as he began to don the armor, "—Is to put an end to this madness. Once and for all." adjusting another piece. " If my mother wants a war, she'll get one."
Fin tilted his head, his sharp eyes watching Rhyssand closely. "You know this won't end well for you, right?"
Rhyssand secured the breastplate, the celestial runes etched into the metal glowing faintly.
"I won't let her destroy the mortal realm or the woman I love." With his armor in place and his celestial spear in hand.
Fin sighed, shaking his head. "Well, at least you have gotten your priorities straight. Let's just hope we are not too late."
As he attempted to leave the threshold of the celestial palace, his eyes were fixed on the guards blocking his path. Their celestial spears glimmered with divine light, and their faces were impassive, though their tension was palpable.
"Stand down," Rhyssand commanded, his voice steady but laced with authority. The guards did not budge.
The leader of the guard stepped forward, Azeraphel's expression stoic but tinged with unease. "Rhyssand Rimat, by order of Her Majesty the Queen, you are forbidden to leave the threshold."
Rhyssand's grip on his spear tightened, "And what if I defy that order?"
Azeraphel shifted uncomfortably, the weight of the prince's gaze making him falter. "It is not my place to question Her Majesty's will, my prince."
Rhyssand's wings flared with frustration as he attempted to leave the celestial palace. He could feel the tension crackling in the air as the guards closed ranks in front of the massive gates, their celestial spears pointed directly at him, but just as he was about to commit unspeakable atrocities. "Do you have any idea what's happening?" he snapped, "Lives are at stake—mortals and divine alike!"
A low, familiar voice echoed from behind the guards, cutting through the tension like a blade. "And what would you do, Rhyssand? Fight a battle that is not yours? Risk everything for a mortal woman?"
The guards parted to reveal Demeter, Rhyssand's father, his imposing figure radiating calm power. His expression was unreadable as he stepped forward, his hands clasped behind his back.
Rhyssand's fists clenched. "Step aside, Father."
Demeter's expression darkened, his hand resting on the hilt of his celestial blade. "If you assist, there will be consequences, Rhyssand."
Rhyssand took a step forward, "Then is my plan."
The tension in the air thickened as father and son stared each other down, the celestial guards frozen in uncertainty. The quiet hum of divine energy filled the hall, a warning of the power that could be unleashed at any moment.
Instead, he exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable.
"Very well," Demeter said at last, his voice low and filled with quiet warning."Go, then. But know this: once you cross that threshold, you are no longer my responsibility. You will be on your own."
Rhyssand hesitated for a brief moment, his father's words cutting deeper than he expected. But then he squared his shoulders, his resolve unshaken. "I've been on my own for a long time."
Demeter watched as his son spread his wings and took to the skies, his figure disappearing into the horizon. The guards shifted uneasily, glancing at their commander for guidance.
One of them finally spoke, his voice hesitant. "Your grace—"
"Let him go. He won't get far." Demeter interrupted, his tone clipped.
As the silence of the celestial palace returned, Demeter turned and walked away, his steps heavy with a weight only he could feel.
It had been hours—or it felt like hours—of nothing but trying to escape threw any means.
Rhyssand's jaw clenched tight. "No teleportation. No rifts. No passageways. Nothing," he snarled. "FUCK!"
"She knew what she was doing," Fin muttered. "She trapped us in our own realm."
Rhyssand shot him a look—tired, frustrated, protective. "This is why I told you to stay with Eugene. Where you're safe."
Fin puffed up, offended. "I don't take orders from you anymore, Lord Rhyssand."
Rhyssand arched a brow.
Fin sighed, quieter this time. "But… at the end of the day… you're still my master. Whether I want to admit it or not."
Rhyssand blinked, startled by the sincerity.
Fin looked forward again, voice small but fierce. "Seeds aren't my payment. I want to see your plan through." A beat. "For the princess."
Rhyssand's throat tightened. He looked ahead at the endless sky—no exit, no hope, no mercy—and then down at the little spirit clinging to him. "I have an idea," he gritted out.
Fin stiffened. "…What kind of idea?"
"A bad one," Rhyssand smirked.
Fin slowly sank into realization, "Oh no…Oh nononono—Why do I feel like only one of us will be flying by the end of this?"
"Whatever happens to trusting in your master?"
"I fully take back my statements," Fin groaned.