Two Worlds

Chapter 26 - Aelin

Aelin's mind whirled, a storm of anger, shock, and confusion. Next to her, Lysandra's pale face mirrored her emotions. Lysandra grabbed Aelin's hand and squeezed, and she could feel it ever so slightly shaking. She squeezed back. Behind them, the others tensed, readying for a fight.

Arobynn tilted his head. "Hello, Celaena."

"You and I both know that's not my name," Aelin shot back.

Arobynn shrugged. "Perhaps not anymore. But we also both know that it was for a good eight years."

Lysandra clenched her jaw. "How is this possible? I killed you."

Arobynn's gaze shifted to her. "That you did," he said coldly. "I suppose you want an explanation, then. Well, you know me," he said, a terrifying grin on his face, "I am all too happy to explain.

"You see, when I died, one of the ancient gods of this world—Maeve; you know her, right?—trapped my soul between two worlds: that of the Valg and Prythian. In my slumber, I detected two different things. They were both powerful on their own, but together... together they were unstoppable. So I combined them. I'll admit, I couldn't do it alone. Maeve, in her weakened state, used the last of her power to help me."

So Maeve was gone. Aelin would have felt relief, had Arobynn not been standing right in front of her.

"It was after that I learned their names—the Cauldron, from Prythian, and Wyrdstone, from the world of the Valg. Merging the stones from the two worlds made me something that is not quite human, but not quite Valg. I assume that in doing so, it opened a portal or two between the three realms—Erilea, Prythian, and what was Orcus's realm."

"What was?" Aelin repeated, curiosity getting the better of her.

He sighed. "Yes. I drained the Wyrdstone and destroyed it, so the power source for that realm is now gone. Before everything was destroyed, of course, I got what Valg I could out of that world and into this one." He grinned again. "As you can tell, they're right behind me."

Aelin snarled. "So Orcus and Mantyx are helping you, then?"

Arobynn smirked. "They're dead. Gone." He examined his hands, pale with long black fingernails. A monster. "Not only did I drain the Wyrdstone's power, but theirs, too."

Aelin felt the breath getting knocked out of her. If Arobynn was powerful enough to drain not one but two Valg kings, how could they possibly defeat him? Sure, she had her magic back, but—

Wait. Arobynn didn't know she had her magic back. He expected her to be able to fight only with the skills that he taught her. But he didn't teach her anything. She trained with the Silent Assassins after crossing the Red Desert by herself. She survived in the Salt Mines of Endovier for a year and beat Cain soon after that. She trained with Rowan, a centuries old Fae warrior who was more skilled in fighting than she would ever be. She fought Maeve, a literal goddess, and won. She lifted her head.

I am Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius, and I will not be afraid.

"Why do you need this world?" Rhys demanded quietly, his voice one of the deadliest things Aelin had heard.

Arobynn looked at him, his face void of any emotion other than boredom. "Revenge on these two, I suppose," he said with a glance back at Aelin and Lysandra. His gaze hardened. "And revenge on the world. On the universe. It's time that I finally take what I deserve."

With those words, figures formed behind him in the cave. No, not figures. Valg. Rows of them. Aelin took up a defensive stance, grabbing Goldryn's hilt. She looked around at the others, and her mouth dried. Neither Manon nor Amren was there anymore. Where had they gone?

Feyre matched her confusion.

Do you know where Amren or Manon is?

Aelin, not having expected Feyre's voice in her head, looked over at her. She shrugged. Feyre's eyes narrowed, but it wasn't Aelin she was suspicious of. As one, they both turned on Arobynn, who had a victorious expression on his face.

"I'll be taking over this world now," he said. "And once I've conquered this one, I'm moving on to Erilea next, then perhaps more. Orcus and his brothers may have taken over one world, but I'm taking over them all."

"No you're not," Aedion snarled. Both he and Lorcan moved, but the barrier held them back. Arobynn laughed.

"Coward," Lysandra spat. "Come out and fight."

He laughed again. "No, no, I don't think so. See, I've done all this work so far." He smirked. "And it's about to pay off."

He raised his arms above his head, and Aelin felt the barrier fall. Valg streamed out of the cave, moving for each of them. Arobynn had disappeared for a few moments, but Aelin soon saw him in the shadow of the mountain, watching. Calculating. The clearing was soon too crowded to move—her heels were at the edge of the ledge. She swung Goldryn again and again, cutting into Valg and spraying blood all over herself.

"Rhys!" she heard Cassian bellow. "We have to move this fight elsewhere."

Rhys clenched his jaw, and soon a large wave of darkness overflowed the clearing. There were still Valg to be fought, though, and so Aelin kept swinging. She didn't dare use her magic, not when she hadn't used it for six months before now and her allies were all around her on a pitch-black ledge.

When the light finally returned, they were at the bottom of the mountain. The land was still uneven, but at least they didn't have to worry about getting shoved off a cliff at any moment. In Aelin's mind, that was a plus.

Laughter echoed around them, and despite it being from her formerly dead mentor-slash-betrayer, she felt a bit annoyed. How many times would he laugh? She understood he found this entire situation slightly amusing—he didn't need to reinforce her knowledge of that.

Arobynn appeared in front of them, looking furious and irritated. It was Aelin's turn to smirk.

"Did you think you could run?" he asked. "I am a god to the Valg. Where I go, they follow."

And Valg were forming behind him, popping into existence. Feyre's eyes widened. "You never said they could winnow," she said.

"Last time I checked, they couldn't," Aelin replied. She turned back to Arobynn, but he was already gone. She didn't have any time to look for him before the Valg started attacking again. Aelin sighed, feeling somewhat annoyed, but soon all she felt was fear.

This time there were more Valg to fight, to kill. There were only twelve of them in total, but both Amren and Manon were gone. There was no way they'd be able to win this—there must have been hundreds of Valg with more to come. Even with all of their power combined, it wouldn't be enough.

Fenrys gasped, and Aelin turned to find Amren and Manon rushing toward them. It took her a moment to register that Manon was riding Abraxos—Abraxos.

A figure was behind her, and Aelin let out a laugh of relief when she recognized Dorian. Above them, a hawk soared, screeching. Amren led five other High Lords and a whole troop of Illyrian soldiers into battle.

She returned to the fight with renewed vigor, determination behind every swing.