Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 437: Beacon I

Chapter 437: Beacon I

"More than enough." Queen Lavinia firmly nodded.

She took the blood that Zephyr had provided, mixing it with a variety of herbs that could be found in the infirmary. Sirona recognized some of them― horsetail, grapeseed, green tea leaves, and yarrow. Everything was mixed into a smooth paste before she juiced it and passed the mixture through a filter to extract its liquid. At the end of it all, Queen Lavinia added one drop of griffin’s blood.

Red seeped into the brownish mixture of herbs, instantly transforming the color of the potion from a deep brown to a clear liquid.

Sirona could barely keep up with Queen Lavinia’s movements. She had never seen anyone work so proficiently and on the spot when it came to healing magic and alchemy other than maybe Prince Nathaniel. She could only clench her fists and chew on her bottom lip as she watched helplessly from one side― compared to these royalties, she truly had much more to learn.

"It’s done," Queen Lavinia said. "Come."

Bringing the mixture over to where Daphne was, Queen Lavinia cast Nereus a glance. The kelpie nodded, slowly bringing the water bubble down. Mist gathered in the room as the bubble dispersed, laying Daphne gently down on the bed. Even the liquid that clung to her clothes had evaporated, leaving her dry.

Quickly, Queen Lavinia raised Daphne’s head and fed her the concoction.

Then, they waited.

Thankfully, the results were nearly immediate. Daphne coughed, spraying a bit of the liquid past her lips but thankfully not in anyone’s faces. Slowly, her eyes began to blink open.

The world was blurry when Daphne first opened her eyes. She felt as though she was a newborn who had just left her mother’s womb, seeing the world for the first time. While she remembered some pain, she couldn’t exactly feel anything but numbness. If anything, her body felt strangely empty.

Instinctively, she placed her hand on her stomach. Her small, nearly unnoticeable bump was still there― her body had yet to return to its original state. However, when she ran her hand across her stomach, Daphne’s heart felt cold.

Her baby was gone. She knew it deep in her heart, the same way birds instinctively knew to fly south to avoid the cold winter.

Wasn’t that what she wanted? This baby wasn’t something she had wanted in the first place. She wasn’t happy hearing about its abrupt arrival in her life. So was it now that it was finally gone, Daphne felt so empty inside?

"How are you feeling?" Queen Lavinia asked.

Daphne stared blankly at her, her eyes devoid of life. Strangely, they felt a little warm and prickly, and Daphne soon realized that it was because of the tears that had gathered there.

"It’s gone, isn’t it?" she croaked, her voice broken and hoarse.

Nereus came over with a glass of water, to which she took gratefully with shaky hands. She needed Nereus’s help to even drink properly from the cup without spilling it all over the bed.

Sirona and Queen Lavinia shared a look. They pursed their lips tightly together, wearing matching expressions of regret.

"It was more important to keep you safe," Sirona quietly said. Queen Lavinia merely nodded in agreement, and Daphne knew that it was a fact set in stone.

She nodded once, her face pale. "Where is Atticus?"

"We’ve already sent word," Queen Lavinia replied. "For now, just rest."

Rest.

Daphne’s eyelids felt heavy. She relaxed back against the pillow of the bed, allowing her eyes to fall shut.

Yes. She needed some rest. In fact, part of her wanted to rest forever.

***

The winds of Xahan’s deserts were ruthless. It was no wonder that the caravans and merchants were warned never to cross the deserts alone and without magic practitioners to guide their way.

While only royalty and nobility could use magic, there would always be people who slipped through the cracks from births out of wedlock. Those people were highly sought after in the black market as mercenaries and guides to hire in such cases.

However, little good magic would do for them here. There were no elements that they could manipulate, no object that could be controlled but the sand and wind. Even Atticus, with all his might and power, found himself bordering insanity as he waited out in a cave that he found.

He looked at the piece of sodalite by his feet. The small navy-gray stone had been crushed when the sandstorm first hit. Most if not all the men had been sent flying off their feet, crashing into each other or thrown into a distance.

Atticus thankfully hadn’t knocked his head against anything that would have proved fatal. However, in this freak weather, it was difficult for him to confirm Jonah’s safety as well. With his sodalite crushed, there was no way he could contact him.

He took a step closer to the edge of the cave, squinting at the wind. Visibility was low― it would be difficult for Atticus to get a good grip on which direction he was headed. He also wasn’t sure how high he would need to fly in order to get out of the sandstorm, so that option was a bust.

Just as Atticus was debating waiting out the storm, a bright flare of light shot up through the haze of sand and into the skies. He frowned, watching the light pulse brightly and consistently like a beacon that was beckoning him over.

A clear quartz flare? Was Jonah even carrying one with him when they left?

Atticus wasn’t sure how close to the mines they were; if they were too close, breaking clear quartz like that could be disastrous. However, he could spot no explosions whatsoever from the source of light, so it should be safe.

Whether or not it was actually Jonah sending the signal was something Atticus would just have to find out for himself.

He clenched his fist, gathering magic to create a sphere around himself so that no sand could hit his face and obstruct his sight and breathing. Then, he headed straight for the light.