Chapter 80 The Trigger
The metallic tang of her own sweat clung to Klishei’s skin.
“Her essence remains human, a fragile vessel for such immense power.”
Fragile. The word echoed in her mind, a mournful lament. She felt fragile, indeed, like a glass figurine poised to shatter. The memories, fragmented and disorienting, clawed at the edges of her consciousness. Faces, ancient and weary, flickered behind her eyes—vessels before her, their pleas a silent chorus.
Time is short. Embrace it. Become.
A cool hand pressed against her forehead, startling her. The doctor. His touch, though gentle, felt like ice against her inflamed skin. He hummed, a low, thoughtful sound.
“Her temperature is spiking. The unchanneled energies within her, are warring with her human physiology.”
A sharp, almost acrid scent filled the air, followed by a cool, liquid sensation against her lips. Klishei swallowed, the bitter taste spreading across her tongue. The coolness, at first a shock, began to seep into her veins, a blessed reprieve from the inferno. The relentless throbbing in her head receded, replaced by a dull ache. The crimson and gold dissipated, allowing the soft, ambient glow of her opulent chambers to reassert itself.
“A cooling agent,” the doctor explained, his voice now clearer, closer. “A temporary measure to quell the immediate symptoms.” He withdrew his hand, his gaze thoughtful as he observed her. “This is no ordinary fever, Jaden. This is a cosmic fever.”
Jaden’s shadow loomed over her, a dark silhouette against the elaborate ceiling. “Cosmic fever? We’ve never encountered such a thing in a Phoenix vessel before.” His voice, usually so composed, held a tremor of unease.
“Because no Phoenix vessel has ever remained so… human, for so long,” the doctor countered, his tone firm. He gestured to a nearby chair, a cushioned throne, and settled into it, his posture precise. “Her human heart, her human mind, clings to its former life. The goddess within struggles to emerge, and this conflict manifests as a physical ailment.”
Klishei blinked, the lingering bitterness of the medicine a reminder of her predicament.
“What could have accelerated this?” Jaden’s question hung in the air, thick with unspoken worry. “Her transformation was progressing, albeit slowly. This sudden surge…”
The doctor’s gaze sharpened, piercing, as if seeing beyond her physical form. “The cosmic laws are immutable, Jaden. The Phoenix Bride and the Dragon King. Their destinies are intertwined. Even a short distance, an unconscious recognition, can trigger the shift.” He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Has Klishei… encountered Zarakhi?”
“Impossible,” Jaden said. “The king is not even here in this palace.”
Klishei’s breath hitched.
“What…does the king look like?” Klishei’s sudden speaking made the gentlemen turn toward her.
“Klishei, why are you curious?”
With ragged breaths, Klishei told them what she witnessed earlier.
The garden. The pool. The figure, sculpted from shadow and light, rising from the water, droplets clinging to skin that shimmered like polished obsidian. The power emanating from him, a raw, untamed force that had both repelled and fascinated her.
“She saw him,” Jaden confirmed, his voice hushed.
A wave of heat, not from the fever but from a sudden flush of embarrassment, crept up Klishei’s neck. She thought he was just a companion of Jaden. How utterly mortifying. And he, the king of the cosmos, did not even bother introducing himself.
“That explains it,” the doctor murmured, a faint nod of satisfaction. “The moment their energies touched, however briefly, however unconsciously, the cosmic currents shifted.”
The doctor turned to her. “The universe demands balance, Klishei. Your human form cannot long contain the power now awakened within you.” He rose, pacing the opulent rug. “The solution is clear. We must hasten the wedding.”
The words struck Klishei like a physical blow, stealing the air from her lungs.
“Hasten it?” Jaden’s voice held a note of desperation.
“Every moment she remains in this state, her human essence battles the divine. The fever will return, stronger each time, until it consumes her. The longer she resists, the greater the risk to her, and to the Phoenix itself.”
Klishei pushed herself up, the world tilting precariously for a moment before settling. Her voice, when it came, was a raspy whisper. “What will happen to me?”
The doctor turned to her, his expression softening, though his eyes remained resolute. “You will burn and merely dissipate. And I don’t think anyone will accept that. Klishei, the world has waited 2000 years for you.”
The silence after was not helpful.
”Zarakhi awaits. Your union will stabilize the energies, allowing your full power to manifest without harming your vessel.”
Her vision blurred, not from fever, but from an unwelcome sting behind her eyes. One memory, sharp and vivid, pierced through the haze. A woman, her eyes filled with a profound sorrow, holding a small, wooden bird. “They tell you it’s destiny,” her voice, a gentle sigh, whispered in Klishei’s mind. “They tell you it’s for balance. But the heart… the heart remembers a different kind of balance.”
“There is one problem,” Jaden interjected, his gaze falling upon Klishei with a profound sadness. “Her heart… it is still anchored. On Yeseus.”
The name, spoken aloud, resonated through the chamber, shattering the calm. Klishei felt a jolt, a sudden, searing pain that eclipsed the lingering fever. Yeseus. His scent, the rough rasp of his voice, the fierce protectiveness in his eyes. The memory of his hand in hers, strong and unwavering, through danger and uncertainty. The quiet moments in the hideout, the revelations about his past, the reluctant understanding that had blossomed between them. He was not a cosmic king, not a deity. He was a rogue, a hunter, a cursed alpha. He was profoundly, terribly, wonderfully human.
The doctor sighed, a sound of exasperation. “This is what we feared. The human attachment. It is a powerful tether, even for a Phoenix.” He rubbed his temples, his brow furrowed in concentration. “We must sever it. Gently, if possible. But sever it we must.”
Sever it. Like a root from the earth, a limb from a body. The thought alone sent a shiver of dread through Klishei. How could they sever something that felt so intrinsically woven into her very being?
“How?” Klishei managed, her voice barely a breath. The word was a challenge, a desperate plea.
The doctor looked at her, his expression unreadable. “The Phoenix’s power is tied to emotion, Klishei. To love, to desire, to heartbreak. A broken heart can be a catalyst, forcing the human essence to recede, allowing the divine to take its rightful place.”