When The Last Petal Falls

24. Chains of Fate

Bellona awoke to a dimly lit room deep under the mountain, her head throbbing with the residue of unconsciousness. As she blinked and tried to clear her vision, she realized she was shackled to a cold, stone wall. Panic surged through her veins like fire, but she fought to keep it at bay, her thoughts immediately shifting to Nyx.

Nyx was slumped against the wall beside her, unconscious. She strained against her chains, calling out to him desperately. "Nyx, wake up!" Her voice was a harsh whisper, a futile attempt to avoid alerting their captor.

Nyx stirred, groaning as his eyes fluttered open. His gaze met Bellona's, and she saw the confusion and concern mirrored in his eyes. "Bellona? What happened?" His voice was weak, laced with pain.
"We've been captured," she replied, urgency tinging her words. "We need to get out of here, Nyx. Can you stand?"

Nyx winced as he struggled to sit upright, his limbs heavy and unresponsive. Bellona strained against her own restraints, her muscles aching from the strain. With a surge of determination, she used all her strength to break free, the chains rattling loudly.

"Nyx, you have to try, they're laced with faebane we need to get them off", she urged, her eyes never leaving the door. She knew time was running out.
Nyx's eyes narrowed in concentration, and he fought against his own restraints, summoning the last remnants of his energy. With a powerful heave, the chains broke free, clattering to the floor.

Just as they steadied themselves, footsteps echoed in the corridor outside, growing louder as they approached the room. Panic surged through them once again, but they knew they had to be ready.
The door creaked open, revealing a sinister figure standing in the doorway. A cruel smile danced on their lips, shrouded in darkness, making it difficult to discern their features.

"Well, well, it seems our guests have awakened," the figure sneered, their voice dripping with malice. Bellona stilled as their words reached her ears.
She knew that voice. Trusted that voice. Had considered that voice a friend.

Bellona's grip tightened on her weapon on the end of the chain that she dragged behind  her, ignoring the burning of the poison on her hand, knuckles white with determination. Nyx, despite his weakened state, stood tall beside her.
The figure stepped into the room, revealing their face - a twisted, malevolent grin that sent shivers down Bellona's spine.

Nithar.

"Nithar?" Bellona breathed, disbelief etched across her features as she grappled with the horrifying revelation. Her mind spun with a whirlwind of emotions, struggling to accept the depth of the betrayal they now faced.
Nithar's cold laughter pierced the air, cutting through the tense silence that hung in the room. "Nithar was a mask, a name to aid my disguise," he sneered, his eyes glinting with malice. "My true name is Arioch.  Arioch, son of High Queen Aramantha and High
Lord Rhysand."

The revelation hit her like a physical blow. Arioch. A name intertwined with darkness and the thirst for revenge. Aramantha, the infamous tyrant, and Rhysand, the High Lord of the Night Court, were his parents. "You lie!" Nyx yelled as he started for the male in front of him. A grunt of pain forced him back to Bellona's side.

"But why?" Bellona managed to choke out, her voice a mix of confusion and anguish. She couldn't fathom how someone she had trusted had concealed such a malevolent secret. "You're Aramantha's son?" Bellona whispered, her voice almost drowned in the tumult of emotions swirling within her. The name of the tyrant that had brought misery to the land echoed in her mind, mingling with the shocking truth.

Arioch's expression hardened as he recounted his twisted motivation, the mocking satisfaction dancing in his eyes. "Yes, Bellona. Aramantha was my mother, and Rhysand, the High Lord of the Night Court, my father."

Her mind reeled at the implications of his words. Aramantha, the name synonymous with tyranny and oppression, was his mother, and Rhysand, a name revered by some, was his father. It was an inconceivable twist of fate. "My mother, Aramantha, was unjustly killed by Bellona's father. He was a puppet for the Spring Court, an instrument of their hatred for the Night Court. I grew up knowing this truth and vowed to avenge her death."

Nyx's features contorted with anger and sorrow. "So you infiltrated my court, pretended to be Bellona's  friend, all to further your vendetta?"
Arioch's eyes glinted with a ferocity that sent shivers down their spines. "Yes. I had to be patient, to gain your trust, to understand your weaknesses and the workings of the Night and Spring Courts. All for the day when my revenge would be exacted."
Bellona's heart ached with the weight of the betrayal. The friend she thought she knew was nothing more than a cunning deceiver. The man she had shared her dreams and fears with had hidden a heart consumed by darkness.

Arioch smirked, his eyes fixed on them with an unsettling intensity. "You can try, but you won't succeed. Revenge is a potent force, and it will drive me until the bitter end."

Bellona's mind was a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief. She struggled to comprehend the twisted revelation that Abrin had just unveiled. It felt like a dark fantasy, a cruel joke played on her reality.
"The allure of revenge is powerful, Bellona," Nithar responded, his voice dripping with bitterness. "It drove me to do whatever it took to avenge my mother's death, even if it meant feigning friendship and loyalty."

Bellona's mind raced, grappling with the truth she had just learned. The past seemed like a mosaic of lies and half-truths. She could feel the weight of the choices that lay ahead, decisions that would shape the course of their destiny.
Nyx stepped forward, his jaw clenched. "You won't succeed. We will stop you."
Abrin's cruel smile remained unchanged. "We shall see, Nyx. The night is long, and the shadows hold many secrets."

As the pieces fell into place, memories flashed through Bellona's mind like lightning. She recalled the countless conversations with Nithar, the probing questions that seemed innocent at the time but now took on a sinister hue. He had been gathering information, weaving a web of deceit and manipulation to further his vengeful agenda.
The memory of a particular evening gnawed at her, the night she had argued with Nyx, the night her emotions had been a tempest. Nithar had been the one to find her then, to offer a comforting shoulder and lend a sympathetic ear. But now, she saw the twisted truth: he was the puppeteer, orchestrating the downfall of their courts from within. Like Feyre had done all those years ago.

The son of the tyrant whose reign had plagued their land had, at times, been her only friends these past months. How could she have been so blind to the darkness that festered within him? The realization was a cruel awakening, a dagger to the heart.
"I trusted you," Bellona whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of betrayal and disbelief.
Nithar smirked, the satisfaction in his eyes slicing through her like a blade. "Oh, Bellona, trust is such a fragile thing, easily shattered," he taunted. "Your trust was my greatest weapon."
She felt a surge of anger and hurt, but she knew she needed to stay focused. Nyx was beside her, his eyes locked on Nithar , his face a mix of disappointment and resolve.

"Why?" Nyx demanded, his voice echoing with betrayal. "Bellona considered you family."
Nithar's expression twisted with malevolence. "Family? Your courts took everything from me. My mother was a cruel tyrant, but she was still my mother."
Bellona could feel the weight of the revelation bearing down on them. Nithar had meticulously planned this, manipulated events to lead to this moment. The pieces of the puzzle fit together with a sickening clarity.
As the truth settled in, Bellona steeled herself, drawing strength from the knowledge that she couldn't afford to be weakened by betrayal. This was a battle, not just for survival, but for the beliefs and bonds they held dear.

"I won't let you destroy my family," Bellona declared, her voice firm, her eyes never leaving Arioch's twisted visage.