Page 51 of Eluvonia (Rift of Ages #1)
AERIS
T ura motions for us to sit as she pulls out a chair at the small, weathered kitchen table.
The room smells faintly of salt and ash, and the heavy air settles in my chest as if the weight of the town’s destruction has seeped into every corner of her home.
Kaida sits across from me, his dark shadows curling faintly around his feet, rippling like restless waves under the table.
Declan takes the seat closest to the door, his wings twitching uncomfortably in the tight space.
Tura moves to each window, shutting them with deliberate care, her hands trembling faintly as if they’re betraying the calm she’s trying to project.
Finally, she sits down with a sigh, placing her ruined hat on the table in front of her. The brim is bent, and scorch marks mar the once-pristine weave. She stares at it for a moment, then says softly, “The Ymirals have been losing their power… slowly, over the centuries.”
The silence that follows feels heavy, pressing down on my chest. Declan is the first to react, leaning forward sharply, his claws raking lightly against the edge of the wooden table. “What?” His voice is sharper than usual, disbelieving.
Tura’s lips press into a thin line, her gaze fixed on her destroyed hat as though it holds all the answers. “I don’t know how or why,” she murmurs, “but we’ve felt it here. The ward that covered this town—it’s been weakening for decades.”
Declan’s wings twitch, the leather edges brushing the back of his chair. “How is that even possible? From what I’ve learned, the Ymirals draw their power directly from Eluvonia itself. That shouldn’t be happening.”
Tura glances at him, a flicker of frustration crossing her features. “Exactly,” she says simply, leaning back in her chair.
Declan exhales sharply, leaning back as well, his eyes wide. The chair creaks under his weight as his wings adjust again.
I glance between the two of them, the growing tension crackling in the room like a storm waiting to break. “What does that mean?” I ask, my voice hesitant, trying to piece together the fragments of their conversation.
Declan’s golden eyes flick to me, his usual humor absent, replaced by something much darker. “It means Eluvonia is dying.”
My breath catches, the words settling in my chest like stones. My hand tightens around the armrest of my chair, nails pressing into the worn wood. “How?” I manage to breathe out, my voice barely above a whisper.
Kaida’s arms cross over his chest, his shoulders stiff as his gaze drops to the table. His shadows curl tighter, their movement jagged, betraying the calm mask he’s trying to maintain .
I look back to Tura, desperate for an answer, but she only shakes her head, her expression as grim as her words.
Kaida’s voice cuts through the heavy silence like a blade. “Is it the crystals?”
Tura’s eyes lift to him, her brow furrowing.
“From what I know of the crystals,” she starts, her voice steady but weighted with uncertainty, “they sit on the Nexxus points and absorb the power flowing through the ley lines. The energy doesn’t go anywhere—it’s just stored in the crystals, like a reservoir.
Eluvonia can still feed off of it when needed, but…
” She trails off, her fingers tracing the burnt edges of her hat.
Kaida nods slowly, his expression hardening. “Yes. The crystals are meant to store Nexxus without draining it completely. They draw from the flow but leave enough for the system to function.”
“Nexxus?” I echo, the unfamiliar word sticking in my throat.
Kaida’s gaze flicks to me, his sharp features softening slightly as if he’s preparing to explain something intricate. “We haven’t covered this in history yet,” he says, leaning forward slightly, “but Nexxus is essentially the lifeblood of Eluvonia.”
I tilt my head, still not quite grasping it. “Lifeblood?”
Declan lets out a short, humorless laugh. “You’re overthinking it, Aeris. Eluvonia is alive—or, at least, it functions like a living thing. The ley lines are like rivers, carrying energy through the land, and the Nexxus points are where that energy pools. Think of them as reservoirs.”
I frown, the analogy helping but not fully settling the unease creeping through me. “But… if the crystals are absorbing Nexxus, wouldn’t that drain the ley lines dry? Wouldn’t El uvonia… die?”
Kaida’s shadows ripple faintly, their movement sharp and restless beneath the table.
His voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it.
“Not quite. The crystals act like dams in a river—they’re designed to siphon some of the flow without completely stopping it.
The energy is stored near the Nexxus points, so it can still circulate through the ley lines and keep Eluvonia alive. ”
I narrow my eyes, leaning forward slightly. “But then… Why did the Fae lose access to the ley lines? If Nexxus is still flowing, even at a reduced level, why can’t they use it?”
Kaida’s shadows curl tighter, dark tendrils rising briefly before sinking back down.
“The Fae didn’t lose access,” he says quietly.
“They can still tap into the ley lines, but there isn’t enough Nexxus flowing through them for the Fae to manipulate into magic.
It’s like trying to draw water from a river that’s been reduced to a trickle.
The energy’s there, but it’s too weak to do anything substantial. ”
Declan huffs, his arms crossing as his wings twitch in irritation.
“The Fae need a steady, strong flow of Nexxus to sustain their magic. With the crystals diverting so much of it, the ley lines are essentially useless to them now. The connection’s still there, but it’s been drained to the point of being… impotent.”
My fingers drum against the table, my unease growing. “But what happens if too much is taken? Or if something goes wrong?”
Kaida’s gaze sharpens, his shadows flaring outward briefly before receding.
“If too much Nexxus is drained, the ley lines collapse. The flow stops entirely. It would be like… a heart that stops pumping blood. Without Nexxus, Eluvonia loses it s ability to sustain itself. The balance would shatter, and the realm would die.”
Declan’s jaw tightens, his usual sarcasm nowhere to be found. “It’s not just energy. It’s the force holding everything together. Disrupting it doesn’t just weaken the realm—it unravels it. One imbalance could send the whole system into chaos.”
I stare at him, the weight of his words settling over me like a thick fog. My gaze drops to the table, but all I see is the image of a crumbling world, fractured and bleeding out its lifeblood into the void.
“So you think it’s the crystals?” I ask Kaida.
Kaida eyes me for a long moment, his eyes narrow slightly, and then he nods. “It’s a possibility,” he says, his tone as flat as ever, though there’s a flicker of something deeper hidden there.
I push my chair back with a scrape that echoes in the room, standing up and leaning forward with both hands planted on the table. “So let’s go destroy them then.”
Declan’s hand comes down on my shoulder, pushing me back into the chair with surprising force. I blink, glaring at him for a moment as if daring him to do it again, but he’s unfazed. “We can’t,” he says, looking at me like I’m the one who’s lost my mind. “The Sentinels.”
Shit, I forgot about them.
I stare at him, my mouth opening and closing, but no words come out at first. “Why not?” I ask, the irritation seeping into my voice now. “You’re Dragons, don’t you have access to them?”
Kaida sighs, an almost imperceptible sag in his shoulders.
“Only one person can access the Sentinels after we took over control of the Nexxus points. My father,” he says, like that’s the end of the conversation.
His words hang in the air, heavy and thick.
I stare at him for a moment, but there’s no flicker of hope in his face. Just resignation.
“Shit,” I mutter, my fingers drumming against the table as the weight of the situation sinks in. “Shit.”
We sit there, the air thick with frustration, but nobody has the answer. I can feel the tension coiling in my gut, tight and unforgiving. The silence drags on, but it feels like it’s choking me, each passing second heavier than the last.
“So now what?” I ask, the edge of frustration cracking in my voice.
Declan shakes his head slowly, the movement deliberate and almost sad. Kaida, as usual, just shrugs, his posture making it clear he’s not going to give any more than he already has.
I let out a sigh, my breath forming a puff in the suddenly cold air. I freeze. Wait, cold air? I sit up straight, my eyes darting around the room. “Did it just get cold?”
Everyone sits up too, confusion painting their faces. Declan, looks uncertain for once. The temperature seems to drop in an instant, the warmth of the room replaced by a biting chill. My breath comes out in visible puffs as if the air itself is mocking us.
Tura stands and heads straight for the door without saying a word, and the rest of us follow her. As we step outside, the world freezes. Literally.
I’m hit with the sight of snow. In Summer.
It’s snowing, light flakes drifting lazily from the sky, the air thick with the chill.
The sky above is tinged with a strange blue, the clouds light gray.
I can’t help but lift my palm toward the sky, watching as a snowflake lands on my hand, only to dissolve instantly.
“What is happening?” I ask, my voice quiet. “It’s summer, why is it snowing?”
Tura steps next to me and looks up. “Eluvonia is dying,” she says softly, her words like a weight pressing down on my chest. She doesn’t look at me, her gaze fixed on the horizon. “I think the realm… it’s withering away.”
I glance at her, the harsh reality of the situation settling deeper into my bones. Eluvonia is dying. The land, our home, is slowly decaying, and none of us can stop it.
“I think we should talk to the Ymirals,” Declan says, looking up at the sky, his voice serious.
I turn to him, raising an eyebrow. “Where do we find them?”
“I am here.”
The voice is soft, like the sound of rushing water, and it comes from nowhere and everywhere at once. I whip around, my senses on high alert, and see her.
A female stands before us, her skin a pale, translucent blue that almost seems to shimmer faintly in the dim light.
Her hair is long, thin, and silver-gray, floating gently around her face like the ripples of water.
It lacks the vibrancy you’d expect from an elemental; instead, it hangs limply, like it’s drained of energy.
Dark circles ring her eyes, sunken into her face, giving her a haggard appearance. Her eyes are dull, the blue faded and lifeless. Her lips are thin and pale, almost blending into her skin, which looks too tight against her sharp, drawn features.
She wears a faded gown of pale blue, the fabric dull and frayed. The edges of the gown are loose, the intricate rippling patterns worn away with time. Despite her frailty, there is a quiet dignity in her presence. The water Ymiral.
She turns towards Tura, and there’s an apology in her eyes. “I am sorry I failed you,” she says, her voice soft and weary.
Tura inhales sharply, her chest rising and falling with the effort of holding back tears. “I do not blame you,” she says, her voice steady, but her eyes betray her. “I thank you for everything you’ve done for us over the centuries. Now it’s our turn to help you.”
The water Ymiral gives a knowing smile, though it’s tinged with sadness. She turns towards me, Declan, and Kaida, her eyes searching each of us in turn.
“The earth Ymiral is requesting your presence, Blessed Ones,” she says, her voice reverberating with power.
I glance at Kaida, his face unreadable, then at Declan, whose smile flickers.
“Well, we were just saying we should visit you, so that works,” Declan says, his usual charm slipping into place.
We take a step forward, but the water Ymiral raises a hand to stop us.
“To meet with an Ymiral, it comes with a cost,” she says, her voice grave.
I tilt my head, confusion knotting my brow. “But she is requesting to see us,” I say, the confusion evident in my tone.
The water Ymiral sighs, her expression heavy with regret. “It is the way of the realm,” she says softly. “You must pay a price to meet an Ymiral.”
Kaida steps forward, his usual air of arrogance settling over him. “But we are meeting you,” he says, quirking an eyebrow. “Does that not count?”
The water Ymiral gives a small, sad smile. “I am no longer an Ymiral,” she says, her voice low. “I am diminished, unable to access the Nexxus of this realm.”
Tura inhales sharply, and the water Ymiral looks at her with a nod. Declan’s voice breaks the silence. “What is the cost of meeting the Ymiral?”
She shakes her head slowly, as if she too wishes she had answers. “We do not know,” she admits. “That is up to the realm to decide when the time is right.”
“That’s… not comforting at all,” I mutter, frustration boiling in my chest. I glance at both the Dragons, their stoic faces unreadable.
Kaida shrugs, and Declan’s smile is wide, almost too wide for the situation. “Guess we’re doing this,” he says with a lightness that doesn’t match the gravity of the moment.
“Alright, we agree,” I say, though my voice feels hollow.
The water Ymiral nods once, before making a sound—a serene noise that seems to vibrate through the very air around us. Then, from nowhere, a green cloud materializes next to her, shimmering with an ethereal glow.
“What’s that?” I ask, pointing at the cloud, my voice a mix of wonder and confusion.
“This is a portal to the earth Ymiral,” she explains, her tone serene. “If you please.”
I glance at Tura, who smiles softly, but there’s sadness in her eyes. “Go,” she says. “I need to bury my kin.”
“We’ll come back for you after,” I promise, my voice a little unsteady.
The water Ymiral places a hand on Tura’s, looking at her with quiet understanding. “I will help her,” she says, her voice gentle. “And when we are done, I think it’s best we leave Eluvonia.”
“I can guide her to her kind in Midgard,” she adds, patting Tura’s hand softly.
Tura gives me a watery smile. “It’s okay,” she says. “It’s time to move on. I’ll be okay. You have a different path than me.”
I walk over and hug her, and for a moment, she freezes. But then, just as quickly, she hugs me back.
“I’ll be fine, child,” she whispers, pulling back and looking at me with a sadness that cuts deep. “Go with your Dragons.”
I sniff, nodding, and take a few steps back. Declan grabs my arm, his grip steady and sure. I look up at him, offering him a smile, though it feels strained.
The three of us step toward the green cloud, and with one last glance at Tura, we walk through it, into whatever comes next.