Page 62 of Legacy of the Heirs (The Lost Kingdom Saga #2)
Elisara
Numbness permeated Elisara’s body as she stared at the empty spot on the cracked table before her.
She heard none of the discussions, recalling only memories of her sisters’ behaviour before leaving the castle that day.
They had known. She did not feel Kazaar squeeze her shoulders while the image of her mother with another man invaded her mind, nor did she notice the tears sliding down Caellum’s cheeks.
Instead, Elisara realised her father knew about all of it, even her mother’s affair.
Yet, through it all, he maintained a happy front for his daughters.
It was not enough that Elisara must carry the pain of finding her family’s dead bodies, but now her nightmares were filled with the vision of their deaths.
“How did that help?” Elisara murmured. Nobody turned to her as they continued speaking, the ringing in her ears muddling their words.
“How?” she asked again, but louder this time.
Kazaar rubbed her shoulder as raw anger crawled through her.
Looking up, more tears fell as her eyes met Vala’s, who stood across from her.
The goddess showed no love or sympathy for one of her many children. Vala smirked.
“How did that help ANY OF US?” Elisara screamed.
Ice crept up the walls, and the only sound was the breathing of those who lived, their breaths rising like smoke.
They all looked at her, the gods included.
“All you have done is confirm what we already knew.” She rose, resting her hands against the table.
Ice spread from her fingers. Vala’s smirk remained, and her hair floated around her while she hovered midair.
“The prophecy states you could help us, so tell me: how on earth did that help?” The ice on the table cracked as Elisara smashed her fists against it.
“Control your whore, Night Child,” Vala hissed, her eyes hovering above Elisara’s crown to where Kazaar stood. Nerida watched her sibling, her lips pursed. Elisara felt flames at her back.
“What did you call her?” Kazaar kept his voice low, yet fire danced behind Elisara like a blanket before reaching across the table.
“You have sullied my bloodline,” Vala hissed. “Is it not his scent I smell on your skin and his darkness I taste in the air surrounding you?”
In a blink, Vala froze Kazaar’s flames.
“Vala, calm yourself,” Keres scolded.
“Calm myself?” She stalked around the room, her image flickering.
“You know the rules,” warned Nerida, her voice cracking.
“Rules mean nothing if she has been tainted.” Vala crossed the table and knelt before Elisara. Her image flickered again.
“You are saying too much,” Garridon said, his accent rough.
“They will lose us if you continue,” Keres finished. Vala leaned forward, meeting Elisara’s eyes.
“It is not he who has tainted us; it is you,” Elisara sneered and tugged her dress aside, revealing the mark of the crescent moon on her collarbone—a celestial tie gifted by the gods themselves.
Vala stumbled back, her eyes wide as Elisara quickly covered the mark.
Vala looked at each of her siblings, their faces mirroring her shock.
The goddess closed her mouth and retreated.
“Queen Elisara means no disrespect,” Larelle said.
“I definitely do,” Elisara mumbled, the anger still burning in her veins.
The goddess had called her a whore and Kazaar a night child, confirming his fears that he had tainted Elisara with his darkness.
Yet they were missing something. The gods’ reaction was not what Elisara expected.
It was as if they knew nothing of the tie.
“But she is right,” Larelle said. “This does not help us. We already knew much of this.” The other rulers mumbled their agreement .
“We need to know what to expect and how to defeat the creatures should they return in hoards,” Nyzaia addressed her god. It was a smart move, addressing the god known for war.
“Creatures of darkness—”
“Wings of night—”
“Not what it seems—”
“Not the only fight.”
Elisara clenched her jaw, glaring at Vala as the gods resumed their riddles.
She caught Caellum’s eye, his gaze still red-rimmed after watching his siblings’ demise.
His tense stance matched hers, though she expected for another reason as he glanced at the hands on her shoulders.
Vala had announced Elisara’s relationship with Kazaar to them all, though insinuated far more had happened between them.
Elisara wondered if the gods truly sensed their odd sharing of power—the tendrils of shadow invading Elisara and the twists of light infiltrating Kazaar.
The gods had offered nothing to explain what that power was or why they had it.
“More riddles.” Nyzaia leaned back in her chair and furrowed her brow. “Answer us plainly: what should we do? ”
“Prepare for war—”
“More swords—”
“Blood of the tied—”
“Watch for the lies.”
Elisara rubbed her forehead. Until this point, everything in the prophecy that made sense had unfolded, but as they sat together and listened to the gods, it was the first time she felt doubtful.
The group possessed all from Ithyion and had called upon the gods, but this did little to help them like the prophecy proclaimed it would.
War had driven their families from Ithyion all those years ago; it felt inevitable that history should repeat itself in some form.
While Elisara knew their blood paralysed the creatures, how could the Sword of Sonos be replicated?
“What more can you tell us of the Sword of Sonos?” Kazaar asked. Elisara ignored Vala’s glare as Kazaar spoke yet noticed Keres failing to contain his chuckle.
“A sword—”
“Can be many things—”
“A weapon—”
“A trap.”
Soren sighed and banged her head against the wall, and for the first time since knowing her, Elisara could finally relate.
“The sword can kill—”
“The sword can take—”
“The sword can wield—”
“A flash of light; a twist of shadows.”
Elisara angled her head to glance at the Sword of Sonos by Kazaar’s side, remembering the way both light and darkness twisted around his hands when he wielded it—something only she could see.
“The sword can slumber—”
“The sword can awaken—”
“The wielder can take them—”
“The wielder can make them.”
Elisara turned the words over in her mind, offering only ambiguity and more questions they would be left to find the answers to.