Page 28 of Legacy of the Heirs (The Lost Kingdom Saga #2)

Nyzaia

H atred burned bright within Nyzaia without Tajana by her side, who so often kept it from consuming her.

Nyzaia’s eyes burned into her lover, who stared at the entrance, her eyes devoid of guilt as she stood by Soren’s side, her true queen.

She did not spare Nyzaia a glance. When Soren smirked, flames flickered at Nyzaia’s fingertips and burned Elisara’s hand.

Still, Elisara did not flinch; she allowed Nyzaia to burn her instead of the fallen queen, who was to blame for her lover’s betrayal.

That was an easier pill to swallow than the truth of Tajana leading Nyzaia on for all these years and twisting the knife into her back.

“What do you mean, spy ?” Kazaar asked from where he stood behind Elisara.

Nyzaia recognised his tone; he spoke like the old commander of Keres, the man responsible for detecting spies like Isha and torturing people like Soren who dared to move against his realm.

A part of Nyzaia warmed, knowing that despite his loyalties to Elisara, he had not forgotten where he came from.

“Isha,” Nyzaia hissed. The others around the table exchanged glances.

Feet shifted behind her at the mention of Isha’s name.

“When we last met in Garridon, Soren said she knew an Isha in Keres.” Nyzaia tore her gaze from Soren’s deep green eyes and peered at each person around the table in turn.

“An Isha who was in secret communication with the king of Keres, whose last communication before he died said, ‘ Ready to burn.’ I do not believe it is a coincidence that shortly after, he and our parents died in an explosion. Isha told us to only trust the heirs.” Soren smirked at the tension unfolding as the group looked at her.

The Historian leaned away and watched too.

She swung on the back legs of her chair with her arms crossed.

Although Tajana and Talia’s eyes remained on the hall’s entrance, Nyzaia noticed their hands shift as they touched the weapons at their sides.

“Well, do you see Sadira and I as true heirs? Or Caellum as an heir to a tainted throne? Because that will significantly change who you trust,” said Soren, smirking.

Nyzaia glanced between Caellum and the two sisters.

Who were they meant to trust? “Are you also accusing me of having set the explosion, Nyzaia? And using Isha to do it?” When Nyzaia glanced at Elisara and Kazaar, Soren added, “No, you are not.” She leaned forward, the front leg of her chair slamming against the stone, and pointed at Nyzaia.

“Because you know who really set the explosion.”

Nyzaia wanted to cut the smug look from her face and provide a matching scar to the one forming on her cheek.

“What does she mean?” asked Sadira.

“Do not act innocent, as though you are not on her side,” spat Nyzaia. Sadira recoiled while Caellum leaned forward on the table, mirroring Soren’s stance.

“She is innocent,” he said sharply. “Trust me, Sadira has nothing to do with any information or plans Soren has.”

“Trust you?” Kazaar scoffed, and Caellum clenched his hands against the table’s edge.

“I do not know all her previous or present plans,” said Sadira, bowing her head. “But I know she had spies across the realm.”

“Can we cut the petty fighting?” snapped Alvan.

“We need to be on the same page so we can plan to get Larelle back.” Nyzaia flinched as she realised the pain Alvan was in, pain that stemmed from loss rather than betrayal.

“Nyzaia, you looked as though you were going to say something when I mentioned the four portraits.” Before Nyzaia could answer, Soren cut in.

“Are we simply ignoring that she knows who set the explosion? After you have all suspected me?” Soren raised her voice.

“Isha had drawings all around her rooms at the Red Stone Den. Each wall was covered in sigils of all four realms, drawn in her blood.” Nyzaia wavered at Soren’s frown, which was the only indication of her confusion.

“All four?” Alvan asked, and Nyzaia nodded. Elisara took a deep breath. Nyzaia suspected she and Kazaar were mentally discussing how much to reveal to the others.

“On the Unsanctioned Isle, there was a room with all four statues of the gods, including Sonos and Sitara,” Elisara began.

The group fell silent until no other sound in the room remained.

The soldiers had taken the remaining victims to the infirmary.

“When we were at the Palace in Tabheri, we found a hidden room attached to King Razik’s study.

” Alvan leaned forward at Elisara’s words.

“It had replicas of their statues, the full prophecy on a mirror, and—” Elisara paused and swallowed.

“Letters between the King and my mother.” Elisara looked at Kazaar, who nodded reassuringly, and Nyzaia squeezed her hand.

“My mother and the king set the explosion.”

Nyzaia expected chaos to erupt, yet Elisara’s revelation was met with stoic looks, as though the news bore little impact compared to the death and destruction of the evening. It seemed no one was surprised by their parents’ secrets.

“What if it was not just them?” Alvan asked, breaking the silence.

Nyzaia frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, the commonality in all of this is the four gods. There are four statues in your father’s office and on the Isle, four sigils in Isha’s room, and four portraits in King Adrianus’.

” Alvan looked at each ruler, notably ignoring Soren.

“Larelle said the explosion was to trigger the prophecy, so what if all the rulers tried to trigger it? Could it relate to the gods?”

Nyzaia looked at the Historian to gauge his impression, but he sat silently with his hands in his lap, frowning.

“Why would they all want to trigger it, and why use references to the gods to do so?” Caellum asked, raising questions Nyzaia had no answer to.

“The prophecy,” Sadira said suddenly, her eyes widening. “There is a line in the prophecy, ‘ only together can they defeat and restore; only together can they gain so much more. The Gods may whisper and help them on, only if all possess that from Ithyion.’”

“They were trying to speak with the Gods,” Elisara surmised. “In her letters to King Razik, my mother said they could not change the prophecy’s course, so what if they tried to speak to the gods to stop the prophecy and prevent the return of d-darkness?” Nyzaia frowned as Elisara faltered.

“But then why would they set the explosion to trigger the prophecy? Why would they not leave it be in the hope it did not play out in our lifetime?” asked Caellum. The Historian cleared his throat.

“I believe there is likely more to this than we will ever learn, seeing as no one who set the explosion is present.” Elisara flinched at Nyzaia’s side.

She and Caellum were the only ones among them who still grieved the loss of their families.

“While this is the first I have heard of a prophecy, I recognise the last two lines of what Sadira recited in a history book from Ithyion.” He coughed again, and Nyzaia noticed Alvan’s stare as though waiting for him to elaborate.

“The line about the gods was scrawled at the back of it.” Nyzaia thought of the book hidden in her guest chambers.

She wondered if she would discover more about the prophecy if she continued reading.

“If your parents were looking to commune with the gods, which is what this prophecy states, then I can only surmise that should be your next steps,” said the Historian.

Elisara shifted in her seat and adjusted the strap of her dress.

Soren’s eyes narrowed on the mark on Elisara’s collarbone, the scar no longer pale but outlined in the same glittering silver where Kazaar’s blood had been.

“Only if all possess that from Ithyion,” Sadira repeated.

“We do not have anything from Ithyion,” said Elisara. Nyzaia looked at Elisara’s mark again, resting inches above her talisman. She grabbed her own.

“The talismans!” Nyzaia exclaimed. “The talismans were created from parts of Ithyion.”

“ All ,” Sadira emphasised. “You need the other halves, too.”

Nyzaia sighed, though she was relieved they were finally getting somewhere.

“You will all need to discover where in your realms the other halves are hidden,” the Historian agreed. “Only with those can you then consider how to use them and connect to the gods.”

“And ask them how to defeat these creatures and their darkness,” Caellum replied. Everyone nodded, seemingly on the same page.

“You will need more than the talismans and a sword,” said the Historian, dampening the mood. “If there is an entire horde on Ithyion like there was when your families fled, you will need more soldiers than your armies possess.”

“Where do you suggest we find more bodies?” asked Kazaar, and the Historian sighed.

“We are but one kingdom; Ithyion was another. Who is to say there are no other lands out there—other beings able to send aid?” The Historian rose unsteadily from his seat.

“I will leave; I will search for help,” he concluded, though his trembling hands did little to reassure Nyzaia he was capable of such a thing, and it was a fool's hope to believe they would find other lands after all these years.

Elisara said as much while Nyzaia grew distracted, watching Tajana whisper with Talia and noting their smiles and the family tie between them. How had she never realised?

“Ithyion was my home— this is my home.” The Historian raised his voice. “I cannot fight here, but I can try to find others. I cannot stand by and lose another home.” He choked, fighting his emotions.

“How can you be certain there are others?” Nyzaia asked.