Chapter 178

Chapter 178
Freya‘s pov.

The moment my foot crossed the veil into the valley, I felt it.
Obsidian Valley.
It was more than beautiful. It was alive.
My breath caught in my throat as I took it all in. The grass shimmered with dew despite the midday sun. Flowers bloomed in impossible colors, their petals dancing to a breeze that sang through the trees like a lullaby. Shades of lavender, blue, and gold carpeted the land like paint spilled from the heavens. The trees were tall and majestic, their leaves a silver-green hue that glistened under the sun.
Birdsong filled the air, melodic and sweet. The sky overhead was painted in a soft sapphire hue, with clouds that drifted lazily like dreams not yet formed. The valley was untouched by war, sorrow, or darkness. It pulsed with peace.
I could feel my heartbeat slowing.
I turned slowly in place, letting my fingers brush over tall grass and blooming flowers, breathing in deeply the scent of jasmine and something older—something wild. My eyes watered, not with sadness but with awe.
"This is it," I whispered to myself. "This is what peace feels like."
I was, standing in the one place that seemed to offer release. It didn't promise happiness; it simply was happiness. As if all the burden I'd carried, all the memories, all the losses, no longer mattered here.
It called to me.
The valley wanted me to stay.
I wandered further in, barefoot, the grass cool against my skin. My eyes landed on a pool of water so clear it looked like polished glass. The surface sparkled like the stars themselves had taken refuge within.
I sat down at its edge, dipped my toes in. The water was perfect. Not too cold. Not too warm. It welcomed me, just like everything else here.
I laid back on the soft grass and stared at the sky.
I could hear my own breath, slow and steady.
Peace. For the first time in what felt like years.
I wanted nothing. I remembered nothing...
And that was the problem.
Somewhere deep inside, a thread pulled taut. A whisper that this wasn’t right. That I was forgetting something vital.
But the valley lulled me back, soft and warm. Rest, it seemed to say. You’ve done enough.
And maybe I had.
From Arius' Point of View
The valley was wrong.
The air was thick with magic, so old and potent it made my skin itch. Yet it wasn't the type of magic that welcomed. It felt heavy, oppressive. Each step deeper into the valley felt like wading through honey—and not golden and sweet, but grey and cloying. The valley looked dull, almost colorless in places, cloaked in shades of ash and fog. The soil was damp beneath our feet, the trees twisted and hunched as if bearing a weight no one could see. What was supposed to be paradise felt… wrong. Broken. Uninviting.
Selene walked beside me, her eyes scanning the terrain with suspicion. I glanced at her face and saw it there—disappointment.
"Not what you expected?" I asked.
She shook her head slowly, her eyes narrowing. "It’s not just quiet. It’s lifeless. The calm isn’t peace—it’s a warning. Something’s wrong here."
I looked ahead.
Freya.
She was walking several paces ahead of us, smiling. She didn’t seem to hear us. Didn’t react. Didn't even look back. Her hands touched every flower, every leaf. She moved like a child in a dream.
"Freya!" I called.
No answer.
"Hey! Sunshine, stop!"
Still nothing.
I moved faster, cutting in front of her. She walked through me, as if I wasn’t even there.
Selene's voice was flat. "Has she gone completely mad?"
"No," I said. "She’s not mad. The valley’s affecting her."
"Why not us?"
I frowned. "She shared her visions. Gave the valley what it wanted. It accepted her. Maybe too well."
Selene crossed her arms. "So what now?"
I turned my gaze back to Freya. She had sat down by the pool now, her hands trailing over the surface of the water, eyes half-lidded in bliss.
"Now we get her back."
Because something about this place was wrong. The valley was built for balance, for trade. Yet the moment we stepped in, it started taking from her. Her memories. Her purpose. Her fight. It gave her pleasure, yes, but only so it could erase the pain. And with the pain went everything that made her her.
It was a thief in silk robes.
Selene narrowed her eyes. "So how do we wake her up?"
I stepped forward. My heart was pounding for reasons I refused to name.
I knelt beside Freya and whispered, "You came to bring them back. Reyna. Hera. You made a sacrifice. This place is a lie. Wake up, Freya."
No response.
I leaned closer.
"You once told me you were willing to feel everything, even if it broke you. That’s who you are. Not this empty smile. Not this silence. Come back. Fight back."
Still, she didn’t stir.
Selene crouched next to me. "We need to give her something. A memory. Something strong."
I reached into my own chest, metaphorically speaking.
"Freya," I whispered. "When I was cursed, I didn’t care. I didn’t feel. For centuries I let the world pass me by. But then you came. Loud. Clumsy. Too bright. Too bold. And you made me feel. That terrified me. It still does. But it also gave me hope. So if you want to stay here and forget everything then fine. But know this: You mattered. To me."
Her fingers twitched.
Selene glanced at me and raised an eyebrow.
I ignored her. Gods, the storm inside me—chaotic and wild—had no name, no direction. I clenched my fists and muttered, "I need your help. You promised. You said you'd help me feel, understand these damned emotions."
Freya didn’t move. She was still lost in the fae dream.
Selene added with biting sarcasm, "What’s it like? Pouring your heart out and getting absolutely nothing in return? Welcome to rejection."
I snarled softly, stepping away from Freya and baring my teeth in frustration. "Don’t test me, Selene."
She scoffed, folding her arms. "You really want to feel, huh? Gods, I’d give anything to forget. Rejection, loneliness, being less than enough—always second, always shadowed. Even when she was nothing more than a servant girl, she still got more attention. So tell me, Arius—how does it feel knowing that your voice, your feelings, mean nothing to her? That only Dorian or Tiberius could pull her out?"
I didn’t flinch. I knelt beside Freya again.
"Freya," I said, softer now. "I believe in you. Dorian and Tiberius are waiting. Your future is waiting."
Freya stirred slightly, her glassy eyes flickering. But she didn’t speak.
Selene leaned in, her voice sharp and commanding. "Reyna. Hera. Dorian. Tiberius."
She repeated the names like a spell. Over and over. Until Freya flinched, her breath hitching. Her fingers clenched into the grass.
I joined in.
"Reyna. Hera. Dorian. Tiberius."
Again. And again.
Freya blinked, her hands reaching up to rub at her eyes. Her lips moved.
"Dorian… Tiberius?"