Page 87 of Darkness Births the Stars #1

Ranon, Enlial’s spouse, greeted us. In his preferred form of a tall, dark-haired Aerieth with wings that echoed the soft purple shades of dusk, he stepped out of the wooden building nestled in the trees’ embrace and gave us a swift bow.

The smile on his tan face was genuine. I had always liked the efficient yet warm-hearted Anima.

The rock that anchors me through every storm , as Enlial often said, our fellow Aurea well aware that it was Ranon who ran the everyday duties of their domain when they lost themself in the calling of their magic.

“They knew you would come tonight,” Ranon said, amusement in his voice as he led us to the large room on the eastern side of the hall.

The room was breathtaking, with no walls or balustrades to impede the view.

The wooden floor seemed to plunge into nothingness, hinting at the winged beings who lived here.

Comfortable nests of blue and white cushions were scattered around.

To my surprise, Enlial was not in Aerieth form tonight, and they were alone.

Resting on a few cushions, they had chosen a body resembling a Human girl: young and fresh-faced, long golden locks tumbling over slim shoulders.

Their distinctive blue eyes were focused on a large silver bowl in front of them, one pale finger lazily drawing circles in the water within.

Ranon excused himself with a polite nod, his footsteps fading. Enlial waited until the last creak of the wooden floorboards had died away before addressing us. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

Aramaz wasted no time. The foreboding expression on his face was back as he answered, “She needs to know.”

Enlial’s eyes snapped to me, piercing in their intensity. “Are you sure? Knowledge is not always a blessing.” A bitter laugh fell from soft rosebud lips. “I should know.”

“At this point,” I replied sarcastically, “imagining the worst is likely more tormenting than the most terrible prophecy.”

Aramaz had decided to share the truth with me. There was no turning back now.

Enlial offered me a compassionate smile.

“Indeed.” They twirled the water in the silver bowl, strands of Air magic dancing on the surface.

The image of Lyrheim’s green hills appeared in the water.

“As I always say,” they continued, “what the winds whisper is uncertain. It might not come to pass. Or we might interpret it in a way that is as fallible as our hearts.”

“Tell her,” Aramaz commanded impatiently. The king was clearly eager to get this over with. He didn’t join me as I stepped closer to Enlial; instead, he moved to the edge of the platform, his back to us, staring into the night, a visible tension in his broad shoulders.

“I have long sensed a darkness in this world,” Enlial began, their melodious voice a haunting melody.

The water in the bowl mirrored their words, shifting from verdant green to scorched, lifeless black.

“A shadow threatening to destroy everything we have created. A shadow born of resentment, hate, and desperation, fueled by the power of Chaos.”

Icy dread trickled down my spine. “And who will wield that power?” I whispered, my voice trembling. I feared I knew the answer, but hoped I was wrong.

Another spark of Air magic danced across the surface of the water. Despite my fears, I couldn’t look away as the images in the bowl shifted, shadows raging through, sparkling with an emerald-and-amethyst glow. I recognized that magic all too well—Darkness, intertwined inextricably with Chaos.

“No,” I gasped, an anguished sound escaping my lips. My legs felt weak, as if they suddenly lacked all the strength to carry me.

The images in the bowl changed faster and faster, each one a dagger to my heart.

Monstrous faces howling in battle glee; hulking dark shapes tearing into a line of Elvish warriors; a burning city, smoke obscuring the sun.

Death—so much death I couldn’t hold back the tears streaming down my face.

Each scene was a new, vivid nightmare. The cries of the fallen echoed in my ears. The scent of blood filled my senses.

“If Belekoroz ever breaks with us completely,” Enlial whispered, “ there will be war. A dark and terrible war that brings nothing but destruction and misery. A war that will rage for centuries.” The words hung in the air, chilling me to the bone.

“Do you understand now?” Aramaz returned to my side and took my hand. His tone was urgent, harsh with anguish. “Why I needed to try everything in my power—in our power—to prevent this future?”

“Can it be prevented?” I stared at Enlial, frantic for a hint of hope, no matter how fragile.

The Aurea of Air hesitated and dispelled their magic, the water in the bowl deceptively calm and clear once more.

“As I said, not everything that will come to pass is set in stone. There are different paths that might be taken, depending on our decisions.” They sighed, a sound heavy with the weight of their gift.

“Some futures are more probable than others, though.”

I didn’t need to ask which future was most probable. My eyes closed as a renewed wave of despair washed over me. There was another question that needed answering, even if I dreaded that answer. Wiping the tears from my cheeks, I tried to summon my strength.

“If that war cannot be prevented,” I whispered, my voice so faint that surely only Enlial’s magic carried it to their ears, “will there ever be peace again in Aron-Lyr?”

Aramaz’s hand fell away from me, his entire body freezing as we waited for Enlial’s answer.

So the king had not asked that question yet.

I couldn’t blame him; even thinking of the possibility of this future becoming reality made me sick to my stomach.

We had been sent to Aron-Lyr to be its guardians, not to destroy it in an endless war.

“If war is inevitable, then a lasting peace can only be achieved…”

Enlial’s eyes were filled with such sorrow that I could barely breathe.

“… if the Adept of Chaos is banished from Aron-Lyr. Forever. ”

No.

There was a time when I had thought that was what I wanted, when I’d believed I despised him. But that was before I knew, before I touched the Darkness and looked into its heart.

The enormity of Enlial’s statement left us in stunned silence.

Aramaz was the first to break. A rough curse escaped him as he stormed out, the faint rumble of thunder in the air.

I was tempted to follow him, but I knew this wasn’t Enlial’s fault.

They deserved better than our scorn for being the bearer of dark tidings.

As I grasped their hands to say my goodbyes, Enlial’s entire body suddenly tensed, their eyes turning an eerie white.

“Sister.” Every soft word burned itself into my mind. “There is one thing you should never forget. If the Light fails, the world will burn. But if your heart fails… all hope will be lost.”

Enlial came back to themself with a gasp. I had never witnessed the Aurea of Air gripped by the stirrings of fate, and part of me wished that hadn’t changed. Enlial themself seemed as shaken as me, sorrow in their eyes as they embraced me.

“I wish I could tell you more,” they said. “Give you guidance in the storms to come. But instead I have to warn you. Sometimes when we try to prevent one future, we only hasten along another.”

I did not rejoin Aramaz immediately after leaving the Hall of Air, instead lingering on the wooden balcony high above Lyrheim, breathing in the cold winter air, my stars shining above me.

They were a beacon to others. Oh, how I wished they could also steer me on the right path.

This last prophecy had sounded hauntingly like an ominous warning meant only for me.

Was this what the Allfather had meant when he had warned me of failure before sending me to Aron-Lyr?

Had he known how much I would struggle to fulfill my duty ?

My mind was still racing as I joined Aramaz beneath the trees where he waited for me.

“I never wished this burden upon you, Baradaz,” he said as he caught sight of me. The light of my stars wasn’t bright enough to reveal any tears on his face, but I heard them in his voice, hoarse with pain and regret.

I realized then that I did cherish him—for his kindness, the brightness of his spirit, and his steadfast belief. Why wasn’t it enough? Why was my cursed heart so weak? Why did it long for something more when I had everything I could ever ask for?

“Did the Allfather order you to keep Belekoroz under control?” I asked, the words heavy in the darkness.

Aramaz sucked in a breath, clearly surprised I had come to this conclusion. He didn’t answer immediately, instead turning toward the Temple of Order, the small lights of its blazing torches barely keeping the darkness at bay.

“I know the Allfather only has our best interests at heart,” he said hesitantly. “But sometimes even I question his wisdom.” A self-deprecating laugh escaped him, a bitter sound that echoed in the still night. “Perhaps Belekoroz is right. I can’t make the hard decisions.”

I went to him then, placing my hand on his arm.

He startled; it had been a long time since I had initiated any touch between us.

I felt his warmth through the fabric of his tunic, a stark contrast to the cold winter air.

“You are a good king,” I told him softly.

“And a good man. It’s not your fault that fate demands the impossible from you. ”

As terrible as the truth was, I was grateful for his trust. His calculating behavior regarding Belekoroz and me had unsettled me, sometimes even made me resent him.

But knowing he was only trying to avoid the dark fate we had seen changed things.

It pained me to admit, but I had to agree with him.

Even the slightest hope was worth contemplating the unthinkable.

I had to prove myself worthy of the trust he and the Allfather put in me.

“I am afraid, Baradaz.” Aramaz’s voice broke as he covered my hand with his larger one. “Afraid I won’t be able to save my brother and still protect this world.”

“I am afraid as well,” I murmured, my heart aching for him.

I had been so blind, selfishly assuming I was the only one tormented by the choices fate and duty had put before me.

When he pulled me into his arms, I went willingly, sensing he needed the comfort as much as I did.

“Perhaps we can be afraid together,” I said, nestling into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against my cheek.

“And find new hope beyond the shadows of our doubts.”

“Thank you, Baradaz. For being there.” Aramaz’s breath stirred my hair, his embrace tightening, as if he feared letting go. “I feel as if I do not deserve you.”

For a while we stood in the dark night together, silent and full of sorrow, but somehow less alone. My stars above shimmered with a distant, cold light, calling to me.

“Go to the north,” I said, my voice full of newfound resolve. Despite Enlial’s ominous words, I was not willing to give up. “He is not yet lost to us. Not completely.”

Of that I was certain. Despite everything, Belekoroz had not reached for his power as Aramaz had lashed out at him, nor had he betrayed our secret in an attempt to wound his brother. There remained a part of him that still yearned for belonging.

When Aramaz tried to interrupt me, I touched his cheek. “Ending his exile is a decision only the king can make. It has to be you who extends a hand to him.”

I knew Belekoroz. Whatever the truth about his involvement in Chaos poisoning the Humans, he had felt betrayed by Aramaz and me.

So much so that even my attempts to reach out to him had come too late.

If we wanted to bridge the rift between us, we would first have to heal that hurt.

And I had an idea of how to achieve that.

I pressed Aramaz’s hand in reassurance and smiled. “Though I will grant you my help.”