His gaze drifted back to mine. “He was the first dragon given mortal form.”
I nearly choked on my breath. “You mean…?”
That smile of his returned, a little broader and warmer, and even more startling in its impact. “My father befriended him when he was a dragon. Nektas was the first to become a draken. He was the draken who gave his fire to the flesh my father lent to create the first mortal.”
“Good gods, he would have to be…” I couldn’t even do the math in my head, especially when all I could think about was that I’d been in the presence of the draken who’d helped to create the mortal race. “How long can draken live?”
“As long as a Primal if they are not killed.”
I sucked in a shallow breath. “So, they are immortal?”
“Not even a Primal is immortal, Sera. Nothing that can be killed truly is, no matter how long we live.”
“Is anything immortal?”
“The Arae. And before you ask, I don’t know how old your Holland is,” he said. And Ihadbeen about to ask that. “Theviktorsare also immortal, but in a different way.”
It made sense since theviktorsdied but didn’t stay dead, instead returning to Mount Lotho to await being born again. Sort of like Sotoria—
Clearing my thoughts ofher, I refocused. “Does anyone other than Nektas know about this plan?”
“Only a few I spoke to this morning,” he said.
“And who are those few?” I asked. Nyktos rattled off names of those who either watched over me or were seen with him often. The usual suspects. “And how much do they know about what is inside me?”
“They know you have more than one ember and that you’re in the Culling—something they didn’t need to be told since they know what those embers mean, and they’ve already seen you experience the symptoms. They know what those embers will do if they remain inside you. They support the plan.”
I doubted the desire to see me live was the reason they supported it. “All of it? Including you Ascending me?”
“They don’t have a say in that.” He studied me. “But none voiced any concerns.”
I also doubted that, even with his speech. “And what about Sotoria’s soul?”
“No one here but Nektas knows that,” he said. “Having that knowledge could endanger them—and you—if they were to be captured and questioned.”
My smile of relief was part grimace. I didn’t think any of his trusted guards would betray Nyktos. His unwillingness to share that little piece of knowledge was likely due to the fact that it could change the way his trusted guards viewed how things should be handled. But I let that go, switching to other questions. “If this plan of yours works, and you become the true Primal of Life, could you Ascend the Chosen?”
Nyktos nodded.
“Would you continue with the Rite?” I asked, curious.
“You know, I’m not entirely sure.” His brows pinched. “I think I would prefer for it to be more of a choice. Not a requirement.”
I liked the sound of that. “But couldn’t you just do away with the Rite altogether?”
“That could be done, but the Rite was started for a reason. The Chosen once had a real purpose. They were needed to replenish Iliseeum by bringing younger, newer gods into the fold—gods who knew what it was like to be mortal. It’s a balance in a way, one designed to offset those who would live such long lives they’d forget just how fragile and precious mortal life is.” Nyktos watched me. “You seem…conflicted about that.”
I was. Which was why I wasn’t all that irritated about him clearly reading my emotions. None of the Chosen given over to the Rite had Ascended incenturies. Most were killed within days of entering Dalos. Others became something else entirely. But my distaste for the tradition had started before I learned of their true fates. “I understand their purpose. It makes sense. But the Chosen…while they may have everything provided for them in the mortal realm, they don’t really live, you know? Their faces can’t be looked upon. They cannot be touched or spoken to by anyone other than another Chosen or the Priests.”
“None of that is necessary.” Nyktos frowned. “We didn’t start that. The mortals did.”
“Then why hasn’t it been changed?”
“I would if I were in a position to demand such things, but…”
“Only the Primal of Life can.” I sighed, understanding. “God, what if…what if all those Chosen who haven’t been killed are being turned into Craven like Andreia?”
“It’s hard to even comprehend,” he replied. “Though it seems like the Revenants are not the same as the Craven.”