The illuminated, p.1
The Illuminated, page 1
The Illuminated
Maggie Sunseri
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The Illuminated
Maggie Sunseri
https://maggiesunseri.com
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Copyright © 2022 Maggie Sunseri
eBook Edition
This work is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review or article.
Also by Maggie Sunseri
THE LOST WITCHES OF ARADIA
The Discovered
The Coveted
The Illuminated
The Hunted
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THE AWAKEN SERIES (Young Adult Series)
Awaken
Arisen
For those who have faith that there is more to this life than just meaningless chaos.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Note from Maggie
Also by Maggie Sunseri
About Maggie Sunseri
Chapter 1
“Her heartbeat is very weak. But it’s there.” Lucius’s voice barely registered.
“Lay her down here.” Was that Abraham?
A woman cried out.
“I know, I know,” someone soothed. “You’re going to be okay,” Daelon—my Daelon—whispered close to my ear.
I slipped in and out of consciousness, trying to keep track of the voices floating all around me and the confusing meaning of their words.
“Placement was lucky.”
Placement of what? I wondered.
Someone cleared their throat.
“Nathaniel was so damn convinced. Convinced enough to do this. To risk everything. Why was he that sure?” Lucius’s shadowy aura only compounded the pain in my core.
“He wanted me gone,” Daelon said. “He would’ve concocted any lie to bring me down, and this was just the perfect opportunity. He’s been plotting to take my place for years—you know that.”
Oh, Daelon. He tried to sound strong, but I could hear the breaking in his voice, the deep well of panic and worry simmering below the surface.
A woman groaned as if in pain.
“I’m sorry, my King, but I’m going to need a calm environment to work. It’s not good for her healing.” I thought that might’ve been Abraham speaking again, but it was getting harder and harder to focus on anything at all.
The woman cried out again.
Was that me? Was I the one who was crying? Soothing energy reached toward me, covering me in an energetic blanket of warmth.
I love you, Áine. I love you, I love you, I love—
Open your eyes.
I was drowning in darkness. Voices weaved through my perception like loose threads of a tapestry, tangling themselves together as they drifted in the breeze. There in the nothingness was a glimmer of light, and I swam toward it.
Open your eyes, little witch.
But the light moved farther away, eluding me. Then there was a pain so great it drove me deeper into the endless void, and I thought I might never return. But one voice unraveled from the tangle of sound, lifting me to the surface, pulling me piece by piece.
Please, look at me.
“There she is,” a different voice spoke, one that made me want to crawl back into the darkness. “See? Her heretic magick might have her weak enough to be subdued by a mere blade, but there’s strength. Resilience that will serve her well as Queen.”
Everything was blurry, and it took me a moment to realize it was from my own tears. My arms were numb and limp; I could just barely wiggle a finger.
“Would’ve killed anyone else, I’ll tell you that much. Except for you, of course, my King. She lost a lot of blood,” someone else said, his voice low and gruff. His energy was warm, tuned into the frequency of healing. He leaned over me, and I recognized him as Abraham, with his kind eyes, deep brown skin, and perfectly manicured black beard. He offered me a smile.
My body felt like it had been pumped full of cement, completely immobile, but I managed to turn my head toward the sound of Lucius’s voice, and I nearly broke into a sob when I saw Daelon standing next to him. He had pulled me back from that endless void, and all I wanted now was him—his comfort, stability, and devotion. And as I met his eyes, I could tell he was trying desperately not to give all of that to me. I had never seen him so relieved, his features tight and his eyes searching mine desperately. A fireplace crackled faintly just behind him, casting shadows across the red carpeted floor. The high ceiling was painted white with gold edges, lavish and intricate like the rest of this castle.
“Áine? How are you feeling?” Abraham asked, and it took everything within me to move my eyes away from Daelon’s. I could feel the fierceness of the longing spread out in the air between us, so palpable I feared Lucius might sense it too.
“I’m feeling… alive,” I croaked.
Abraham chuckled, and Lucius made a noise that sounded like mmm. “That you are. By our Lord and King’s divine grace. You are so blessed.”
I fought hard against the urge to roll my eyes. I tried to sit up, but Abraham was quick to stop me, placing his hand on my shoulder.
“Not yet. I’ve closed you up, but the wound is still healing more like a human’s would. The blade used was spelled against your, um, power.” Abraham faltered, considering me like he was looking at me for the first time.
“I guess the cat’s out of the bag on that, then,” I muttered, glancing at Lucius. Who knew how many witches had seen me battling astral wolves in the gardens? Not to mention I’d sent Nathaniel flying into the dirt in front of Sebastian. Now I wished I’d done worse. Maybe if I had, he wouldn’t have plunged a cursed knife into my gut in a scheme to test Daelon’s allegiance to Lucius.
“I’ve found you worthy of a great blessing of natural abilities. There is nothing to hide. It has been a delight seeing you grow into them, and it will be even better watching them… develop,” Lucius said, obscuring the truth as usual. As if it wasn’t his own orders that had forbade me from telling anyone the truth or showing my magickal capabilities.
My heart skipped a beat as I contemplated the meaning of his last words, knowing full well he was plotting to corrupt my power with his own unnatural magick marred by all the murder and torture he was responsible for. He wanted to send a message to the dissenters, the survivors, and descendants of the lands his family had burned to the ground—people he called heretics—that no hope remained, and that he would destroy every last bit of the world’s natural power until there was nothing left but him. Lucius wanted to be a god, and it was ripping literal holes in the fabric of reality. I was certain the creatures who’d descended upon us belonged in a different dimension—the astral realm—revealed by the silvery blue glow that had outlined their forms. And if they’d managed to escape into the witch realm, then who knew how much longer we had until we faced a full-blown, cosmic disaster?
“What happened to Nathaniel?” I finally asked, since I knew Lucius didn’t want to hear a single word about his magick and what it was doing to the realms. He wanted to believe in his own lies so badly that I wasn’t sure if he even knew the difference between them and the truth any longer.
Lucius’s face lit up as if I’d just given him the most splendid of gifts. “Oh, so many horrible, terrible things. He’s in the dungeons now. When you’re done being all wounded and dramatic, perhaps we can go have some fun with him. I’ll let you take the lead,” he offered, again as if we were talking about his favorite game rather than literal torture.
I stole a glance at Daelon, sharing the tiniest moment of intimacy possible in front of this audience. All we could do was look at each other, and too soon, the moment was up. I turned my head back to the ceiling, sick with dread at what Lucius had in store for me. I didn’t know how Daelon had survived all these years by his side, forced to do and say horrible things to stay in his good graces. I doubted I’d last the month.
Despite what Abraham had said about the blade, I still healed much quicker than expected, and I suspected it had everything to do with my mysterious new connection to allies in the castle. My power was no longer just mine. It had dug its roots into Taryn and the witches who saved me while ill with Lucius’s magick. I wasn’t sure how it all worked yet, but I knew that this connection made us all stronger. I’d been called a gift from the Goddess, Bringer of Hope, and Keeper of the Old Ways, among many other strange names and titles. This power and knowledge I kept safe within me yearned to be set free. It called for community, for strength in the many. It didn’t covet or demand solitude like Lucius’s power. It was one last beacon of hope, crafted with care by massacred covens, to make right the imbalance and oppression the King had unleashed.
Before I was brought to the infirmary, I’d been called to the Queen’s cherry blossom tree, where Lucius’s mother Katherine gave me the latest key for the Akashic Records. She’d told me that Amos now knew how to get there, but she was adamant that only I could hear the way. Especially not your lover, she’d emphasized. It didn’t feel right to exclude Daelon, but there had to be an important reason. There always was. I needed to see Amos as soon as possible to figure it all out, as well as to ask him why Lucius had visited him so often in recent days. It had to be because of his plans for me and the witch he’d resurrected on the dark altar, who Lucius had kept carefully out of sight.
Despite the chaos of Lucius’s evil workings, everyone’s cryptic messages, and the strange nature of my existence, the one thing I couldn’t get out of my head was Katherine’s insistence of a different Lucius underneath his power and his cruelty, who once loved his mother more than anything in the world. I couldn’t understand why she would believe her son was capable of anything good after all that he had done, nor why she felt the need to plead her case to me. Lucius was far beyond the point of the sympathetic villain.
Genocide and mass torture tended to have that effect.
I shook my head, turning over in the small but cozy bed that everyone insisted I stay in for one more night. My mind raced with all of the loose threads that hung in the balance. An otherworldly kind of weight rested upon my shoulders. I would never admit it, not to a single soul, but sometimes I wished someone else could take this responsibility. That someone else could hold a magnifying glass to the trail of crumbs and shattered pieces left by people I had never met and would never meet. That they would be the one who couldn’t touch their boyfriend in public to avoid a certain death, get stabbed by asshole witch guards, and had to live a life of never-ending conflict and pain.
But at least I had help. At least I wasn’t alone like the cruel Witch King. I tried to shrug off that sinking feeling, to remember my strength, but in the shadows of a room so far away from my true home, I felt a tear escape my eyes. And then another.
Soon a hand that didn’t belong to me was wiping at them, and I relaxed into the touch. The sturdy, impenetrable shield that hid away Daelon’s energy was easy to recognize. The one person I couldn’t read. It used to bother me, but I’d come to appreciate having a relationship I couldn’t cheat or manipulate by understanding his every emotion or personality trait. I had to trust that his words and actions matched what was underneath.
“I’m here,” he said.
“But you haven’t been,” I snapped before I could filter. I felt vulnerable and alone, virtually left here to heal on my own for days now. Abraham had been my only intermittent company, mending me with his healing gift and his warm presence.
Daelon paused then kissed my forehead. I made room for him, slowly sitting up against the pillows. “I’m so sorry. Lucius had me working the minute we knew you’d survived and hasn’t let up. I fear he’s also still suspicious, considering the lengths Nathaniel went to in order to prove our affair.”
“But you chose him,” I said. I’d been too busy dragging myself toward the Queen’s tree and its magickal forcefield to actually see if Daelon had chosen to help Lucius after Nathaniel tried to murder me. Because we were both alive, I knew he’d made the right choice.
He held both of my hands in his. “And it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” His voice broke, the rawness of his pain racking through his usually perfectly controlled features. His brows drew together as he lowered his eyes. His jaw trembled.
These moments of pure vulnerability were so few and far between in this place, where we were both forced to suppress our feelings and take on a position of strength.
Neither of us felt strong tonight, and that should’ve been okay. Lucius’s tyrannical need for unwavering fortitude, rationality, and control erased what it meant to be human, to be witch, to be alive. We were meant for another way of being, of loving, and of practicing magick. That life was stolen from us.
I pressed his hand to my heart, resting my forehead against his. “One day we will be together, and we won’t have to hide anything. Not from the world or each other. We will love like our parents loved. And we will revive their stories, rituals, traditions, and art. Their worship and spells. All of it. And we’ll rebuild our home and live there together, with others like us.” I wanted to paint this picture further, but the lump in my throat grew until I finally let out the sob I’d been holding back for so long.
Daelon kissed the tears from my cheeks, and then he moved to my lips where I felt him answer me in a wave of energy. It flowed from him past the defenses of his shield, and I saw a vision of us in our little seaside village, in a home of our own, and then on the beach, where we looked happier than we’d ever been allowed to be in this realm. I saw myself through his eyes, radiant and beautiful and so full of life, my long hair the color of the falling sun and my eyes a soft green. His love for me was so strong; he believed it was the most powerful thing he’d ever felt. I was his home, and he was mine, and for now, that was all we had.
I pulled back, overwhelmed. “You’ve thought about it too. A future,” I whispered.
“Of course, I have. How do you think I’ve stayed sane these past few days? Or ever.” He smiled slightly, his dark brown eyes wide and hesitant. I could’ve sworn a little bit of pink had flushed out on his sharp cheeks, and the sight of it all but made me forget why I was crying in the first place.
“You’re cute,” I laughed.
He wrinkled his nose. “Cute?”
I nodded. “Adorable.”
He rolled his eyes, then crawled up beside me and pulled me into his lap. He kissed the top of my head, his hold on me looser than usual. “Is this okay? Tell me if I’m hurting you.”
“You’re not,” I said, and it was mostly the truth. Aside from the occasional dull ache, my near-lethal wound had almost faded to a scar. I cringed at the agony I’d felt for hours on end, most of the time all alone. “What has Lucius been making you do?” I asked tentatively, knowing full well the last time I’d asked such a question we’d had a major fight that had yet to be fully resolved.
“Same as usual. I can’t remember. Nor do I want to,” he said. “I left the castle for a couple of days, and then when I returned, he—” I looked up at him, only to see a strange emptiness in his eyes. “I don’t know. I was helping him with something.”
“Why does he keep so much from you if he supposedly trusts you more than anyone?”
He shrugged. “The only person Lucius truly trusts is himself. He keeps all of us in the dark, where he thinks we’ll be the most content. It’s all a mirage.”
I sighed, refusing to give this another thought, at least for the night. I just wanted to be here, pressed to Daelon’s chest with his arms wrapped around me like he was terrified to ever let go.
“I can’t bear to see you get hurt. Ever again,” he sighed into my hair. “I was so close to failing that test. To just killing Nathaniel and running off with you, and saying ‘fuck it’ to this hell we’re living in.”
“I know.”
“You don’t,” he said, his tone bitter. “Sometimes it feels like I have to destroy parts of myself in this place, just to survive. Like only the darkest, worst parts are being nurtured and grown. I’m scared I’ll wake up one day and I won’t even recognize the man I am, and even worse, that you won’t either.”
