Emperor Astraeon of Miria. My father.
The words echoed in Theo's head, meaning nothing at all – or rather, he didn't want to face their meaning. The true implications.
His head spun as he stared at the seraphim. Emperor Astraeon. There could be no mistaking it – he was the source of the Levia, that midnight sky far vaster and more terrifying than Darian's.
And he was also the source of the darkness that had threatened to consume Theo alive. Really, it was just a darker and deeper version of the midnight sky, stripped of every last trace of light.
But that was impossible, because the darkness didn't belong to a seraphim; it belonged to the strongest demon of all. Didn't it?
"This...this...what the hell are you saying?" Mirage's voice pierced through his racing thoughts, high and hysterical. "That Levia – that was definitely the Infernal Lord. Where, where is he?"
The seraphim's – Emperor Astraeon's – Levia shuddered, then intensified. It drove the breath from Theo's lungs, and judging by Mirage's sudden silence, he wasn't the only one who had felt it.
With a great flap of his wings, Astraeon drifted lower. He didn't land, but now he was close enough for Theo to make out his face. A coldly handsome face, with a strong patrician nose – but there were echoes of Darian in the firm set of his mouth, the arch of his eyebrows. To say nothing of his eyes, just as dark as his Levia and shining with stars.
"I," Astraeon said, "do not need to answer any of your questions."
His voice was nowhere near as deep as the Infernal Lord's, but the ice-cold tone and bored disdain were identical. It made nausea wrench through Theo's stomach.
Slow and deliberate, Astraeon lifted his arm. His Levia deepened, forcing Theo to fight back with all his might to avoid getting sucked in – and then light erupted beneath him. Harsh and blue, drowning out the glow from Theo's wings and the faint, defiant shine of the Star of Miriel lying on the floor.
This light – it was just like Darian's. But a hundred times more intense.
Squinting against it, Theo made out the diagram spreading below Astraeon's feet. It was easily the most intricate one he had ever seen, its lines so densely intertwined he couldn't discern any recognizable shapes within them.
But he more than felt Astraeon's Levia pulsing through the air, shoving down on his shoulders as if trying to make him bow. Theo fought against it with all his might, curving his wings in front of him to act as some kind of shield.
Just as the power reached a crescendo, Astraeon flicked his wrist. A spear appeared out of thin air, sliding neatly into his hand. Twice as long as he was tall, it seemed to be fashioned from a slice of the midnight sky itself, trails of stars painting its featureless dark form. Even from this distance, Theo sensed the power thrumming within its depths.
Astraeon drew his arm back, pointing the spear at Theo. When he spoke, it was one simple word:
"Disappear."
"Theo!" A voice yelled from behind him – Victor? No time to think. Theo dove forward, wanting to grab the Star of Miriel.
But it was too late. With a snap of his wrist, Astraeon sent the spear flying.
More screams, but Theo barely heard them beneath his heartbeat. It pounded through his entire body like a chorus of drums.
Then the white-hot light erupted within him. Once again it drowned out his vision, rushing from his body in great waves. Strangely enough, he didn't feel an ounce of fear.
The light began to die down, but didn't fade entirely. Instead, it gathered and coalesced in front of Theo, forming a column so bright that looking upon it sent dark dots dancing in his eyes. Yet he forced himself to stare, because to his amazement the column began to change shape, outlines sharpening out of the glowing mass.
Six wings unfurled first, shedding scraps of light like feathers. And they were attached to a person just as insubstantial, because she too was formed entirely of light. Even so, Theo made out a slender build and shoulder-length hair billowing with every flap of her wings.
She lifted her hand, and Astraeon's spear froze in midair. All the power had drained from it, leaving it little more than an oddly-shaped painting of the night sky. Then the figure of light swept her arm to the side, and the spear dissolved into blue sparks.
Astraeon stared at her in silent disbelief, echoing the sensation hollowing out Theo's own body.
The figure's voice bloomed in the air, filling every empty space in the chamber.
"That's enough, Astraeon. I won't let you lay a finger on my son."
Beneath his throbbing heart, Theo made out a hushed voice rising from behind him. "Mom...?"
The shock – and the hurt – in Victor's voice lanced through Theo's chest. But he couldn't do anything about it, not when every atom of his being was compelled by the scene in front of him.
Astraeon's throat convulsed. When he spoke, his voice held an unreadable edge. "Sarieva. It has been a while."
"What have you done?" Mom said, rising higher so she was level with Astraeon. "Pretending to be a demon? Leading the Infernal Legion? I never thought you would sink so low."
"Me?" To Theo's numb surprise, Astraeon let out a bitter laugh. "You ought to speak for yourself. You're the one who gave up your pride as a seraphim, cavalierly spreading around the power that belongs to us alone."
His gaze shifted beyond Mom's form, landing directly on Theo. Theo jolted, his heart rocketing into his throat.
"And you call this boy...this human...your son? You are a disgrace to all seraphim. As the Emperor of Miria, I will render you the judgment you sorely deserve."
"It's too late for that," Mom said, almost pleasant. "I have already died. What you are speaking to is the power that I left within Theo. His inheritance."
Inheritance. Mom had said it before, hadn't she? That time in the Liminal....
But before he could think more about it, Astraeon's Levia surged again – this time with enough force to drive Theo flat to the floor. He cried out, or tried to, but his voice wouldn't escape his throat.
All he could see was the harsh glow from the diagram, casting ghoulish blue highlights across the entire chamber. Yet Mom remained calmly in place, her light as unwavering as that of the sun.
Six spears surrounded Astraeon, revolving in a deadly circle until every single one was pointed at Mom. Once more, she lifted her hand.
At last, Theo's voice crawled free. A dry, cracked whisper. "Mom...!"
Mom didn't look at him. Instead, he felt her power swell within his soul, so hot and blinding he almost cried out in pain. Amazement stole his breath when a diagram spread beneath her, its brilliance drowning out every last trace of Astraeon's Levia.
And – and the same diagram was glowing under his hands and knees. Some stupid, mindless part of Theo scanned it with his eyes, trying to study its details, but he couldn't discern a single line before a dozen beams of light blasted from the diagram, shooting toward the ceiling and drowning the entire chamber in pink-tinged white.
The same light engulfed Mom until he could barely make out her outline. As Astraeon flung all six spears, Mom sent a wave of light rushing directly at him.
The spears shattered into sparks beneath the onslaught, one after another. He flapped his wings, but couldn't escape in time before the wave of light struck him head-on. The impact sent him hurtling backward until he crashed through the window with a din of shattering glass.
And he kept flying into the sky beyond, leaving behind a searingly bright streak like a shooting star. Theo stared in numb disbelief as the streak grew fainter and fainter, until it vanished altogether.
The diagram was gone too. Despite the sunny blue sky, without its glow the chamber suddenly felt dim as twilight. Theo sagged on the floor, his heart thumping a mad, erratic rhythm in his chest.
Yet he couldn't tear his gaze away from Mom. Now that the light had died down, he could see her better. Her alert stance, her wings spread wide and proud.
Then she turned around, facing him for the first time. Now there could be no doubt. Even though her features were fashioned from light, not flesh and blood, Theo recognized them in an instant. Her calm smile was the exact same as in the one photo he owned, as were her slightly upturned nose and gentle eyes.
"Theo," she said, soft with an affection that made Theo's heart ache. "Victor."
Theo started, and he heard Victor's sharp intake of breath. It was the first time Mom had acknowledged him.
Say something, he had to say something. But all words had fled his mind, and before he could dredge any up, Mom's smile widened – and she scattered into motes of light, drifting across the chamber like glowing snow.
Theo could still feel her power pulsing within him, but it was becoming fainter, draining away. When his wings vanished as well, he didn't feel particularly surprised.
A mote of light landed in front of his face. He reached a trembling hand for it, but it faded into nothing before his eyes.
The chamber was silent and still, with no trace of either seraphim. Theo wondered if he had dreamed the entire scene.