Now, it was just the three of us left in the room: , Vexa, and Aron. This felt like the right mont to clear up whatever had happened earlier that morning, back when I'd dropped Raven off on the outskirts of Solstice.
"So, are we going to discuss sothing, or are we just supposed to stare at each other?" I asked, sending Smokeball a quick look. He hopped down, stretching his tiny form.
"I'll guard the place," he murmured in that familiar tone before disappearing into the shadows.
Vexa, on the other hand, leaned back slightly in her chair, putting a bit more distance between us. Her gaze was intense and unreadable, as always. She had a habit of pausing before speaking, creating a strange tension that I'd almost grown accustod to over ti. There was no rush; with Vexa, patience was a requirent.
"You're under no god," she finally said, her eyes holding a gleam that was hard to decipher.
"I'm not," I replied casually. I didn't mind sharing that much—it was an admission that felt harmless enough. Still, I was a bit surprised by Aron's silence; usually, he'd have jumped into any conversation by now, impatient as he was.
"And yet you know I am, and that I'm not under Ellora. So, you're aware of the Nine Gods." She wasn't asking; she was simply stating a fact, her deduction solid. Not surprising, given the conversations we'd had, but still sharp of her.
Another short silence settled over us. This ti, it wasn't awkward. Vexa's gaze shifted to Aron, who was...shaking? He looked nervous—tapping his foot and scratching his thumb. He seed like he was on the verge of so kind of ntal break.
"It doesn't seem you knew about being involved in this," she stated, still in that tone of quiet certainty.
Aron, absorbed in his thoughts, didn't even realize she was talking to him until he looked up. For a fleeting mont, his eyes flashed red, then dimd back to normal.
"What?" he snapped, back to his usual, self-assured tone.
"Have you mastered your Archon Form?" Vexa asked.
"No," he replied curtly, an uncharacteristic straightforwardness in his answer.
I raised a brow. He hadn't? I knew wielding the power of a god wasn't easy, but I'd thought he'd at least be close. Of course, my experience with the ga's version of Adam didn't exactly mirror reality.
"That's odd," Vexa murmured. She must have her Archon Form already. I couldn't help but wonder what it looked like—each form varied depending on the god. So, which deity did she serve?
The silence stretched, and I decided it was ti to cut to the chase. Tapping the armrest of my chair, I drew their attention. "So, who exactly is Mrs. Vexa to you, Aron?" I aid the question at him, suspecting Vexa wouldn't give a straight answer.
Vexa Velcrow. That's the na registered at the academy, but I doubted it was her real na. From the mont she showed up outside my dorm six months ago, her whole existence had seed shrouded in mystery. Not a soul seed to know her past. Even Devon, who had similar connections through Alia, had at least so plausible history here. Vexa, however, was an enigma.
"I don't know," Aron admitted. "I only t her a while back, introduced by my father. He told she's from our lineage, but when I tried looking up her na in the royal records and family journals, she wasn't there."
I turned to Vexa, watching carefully for any hint of a reaction. Her face was as unreadable as ever, a perfect mask. But I pushed further.
"Do you feel betrayed?"
For the first ti, I caught sothing—a slight twitch in her expression, a subtle frown.
"You hate being lied to?"
This ti, her face softened a bit, a somber glint flickering in her eyes. She rose from her chair with a quiet grace, as if signaling that the conversation was over for her. "I'll take my leave for now; I have a few things to think about…" she murmured.
But as she turned to go, she added, "Don't think the conversation is over." Her tone was firm, commanding, yet her movents were gentle and polite—a strange combination that seed uniquely hers.
I considered pressing her with the questions swarming in my mind, but sohow, I knew she wouldn't answer. Still, the unknowns lood large: her true motives, her origin, her ties to the King of Hestia and the Royal Family.
Instead, I asked the question that might get sowhere. "What god do you serve?"
Vexa paused, a small smirk playing at her lips. "It's easy to figure out," she replied. "You know who Hera, Ellora, and Azra have chosen—you just have to guess from the rest." With that, she turned and walked out, not sparing a glance back. The only sign of emotion was her hand, balled into a tight fist, clutching the fabric of her dress.
Once she'd left, I turned to Aron. "So, who is it?"
"Neptune," he replied in a single word.
Of course. The god of seas. It explained her command over water and ice.
"Still," I said, standing as well, "I didn't expect you to be so cooperative."
I turned to leave, but before I could take a step, Aron grabbed my hand. His grip was tight, and his silence even tighter.
I glanced down, noticing blood sared around his thumbs—small, raw wounds from where he'd been scratching. It was out of character, even for him.
"What?" I asked, not pulling my hand away, just waiting for him to speak.
Aron stared straight ahead, not eting my gaze. "I… need your help with sothing." His voice was lower, barely more than a murmur, but there was sothing heavy in it, sothing raw.
For once, even his porcelain mask couldn't hide the unease in his eyes, a flicker of sothing I'd never thought I'd see—fear.
The realization hit harder than I expected. This was Aron, of all people, standing there with a touch of vulnerability, his posture strained, his hand still gripping mine like he needed that small anchor to stay steady.
"What do you need?" I asked, keeping my tone steady.
He hesitated, as though weighing the words, his jaw set in that characteristic way of his. But I could tell—whatever he was about to say, it mattered.
Reviews
All reviews (0)