Page 70 of Legacy of the Heirs (The Lost Kingdom Saga #2)

Elisara

T hree days until war reached their kingdom, and Elisara was no closer to accessing Kazaar’s power or any light within her than she was nine days ago.

She wondered if she would ever be able to.

Farid and Nyzaia could not read each other's minds, so perhaps the tie was simply different for each pair, or the wisps of shadow and light were not a power but simply a recognition of their bond.

Elisara was cursed to feel like a disappointment, though she was not the only one.

Sadira was no closer to imbuing weapons, and Larelle was no closer to uncovering new information.

Nyzaia and Caellum were the only ones getting anywhere; they had coordinated all armies at the edge of Tabheri along a large map, highlighting the multiple options for defence and attack.

“Again,” Kazaar commanded from where he sat cross-legged from Elisara on the hot gravel.

Whenever Elisara returned to their chambers after training, she would find thousands of tiny stone indents across her body, usually from collapsing in frustration and lying on the floor to recover.

Today, it was from their new approach: silent meditation.

Elisara laughed the first time Kazaar suggested the technique, unable to imagine Kazaar ever sitting peacefully and reflecting on his own peace of mind, but then again, he was full of surprises.

Despite their rigorous training, Kazaar had still found time to court her in the last nine days. It was odd, being courted, mostly because they had already slept together—frequently—but also because Caellum never formally courted her, seeing as they were betrothed as children .

Kazaar woke her with breakfast each morning to ensure she was fuelled for the day and brought her his favourite warm drink in bed each evening.

Their cool-down from training was a light stroll arm in arm around the palace gardens, and every night, Kazaar worshipped her as though she were a goddess.

All those things made the training worth it.

Elisara focused on her breathing to centre herself, as Kazaar had explained.

“Find the source of your power,” he breathed.

“What do you mean?” She opened one eye to peek at him.

“Close your eyes,” he said without even opening his own to check she did. “I started this when I first used a power that was not my flame. It helped to understand and differentiate them.

“Vines, right? When you were seventeen?” she asked. He hummed in agreement. “How old were you when you finally had all four?” she asked. Kazaar sighed heavily.

“Are you using this as a distraction?”

“No!” Elisara exclaimed, closing her eyes again. “If I understand how you came to have four, maybe there is a commonality between them all, which can help us find this source of power within.”

“Well, you know about the vines when I was seventeen. At eighteen, I accidentally sunk the ship.”

“Air is the only one you have not told me about.” She sensed his eyes open and opened her own. Kazaar’s sleeves were already rolled up, revealing the marks on his arms. None suggested a tie to air. He unbuttoned several more on the shirt and pulled it aside.

“These swirls.”

“Huh. I thought those were decorative.”

Kazaar shook his head. “Nineteen. It is not a riveting story. Razik had come to watch training drills. Afterward, he came to my room and told me how disappointing I seemed before storming out. In a teenage fury, I thought about slamming the door behind him, and a gust of air did it for me. That’s when I realised I controlled it.

” Kazaar leaned back on his arms, focusing on her face. “So, any deductions?”

Elisara roamed his other inked scars, hovering over the flaming knife again, the one he was reluctant to talk about.

“I will tell you when you can wield all four.”

“Bribing is unfair,” Elisara responded, running through the different origin stories in her mind and watching his fingers flex in the gravel.

After arguing with Razik, Kazaar discovered his power for air.

It made sense anger could trigger his powers, given his fiery nature, yet his earth power emerged when he stole from his father.

That made less sense to Elisara, who struggled to connect the two.

After failing his father’s plans for a ship, his water power appeared.

Elisara’s eyes snapped up to Kazaar’s face.

“Your father,” she said. “Each time your power emerged was on occasions relating to King Razik.” Kazaar frowned. “Stealing the bottle with vines from his office, sinking the ship upon his commands, slamming the door after his disappointment.”

Elisara leaned forward, tracing patterns in the gravel as she waited for Kazaar’s reply. She watched him, staring off into the distance towards the palace.

“Anger,” he finally said. “There was a common emotion of anger towards him on each occasion.”

Elisara nodded slowly, allowing him time to elaborate if he wished. There was seemingly far more to his relationship with his adoptive father than she realised.

“Should I try focusing on anger?” she asked.

“I do not think you have enough hatred or anger in your bones, angel.” He turned back to her.

“Focus on any powerful emotion that comes to you and the memories associated with it.” Kazaar reached for her hands and shuffled closer, his knees brushing hers.

Elisara watched as he inhaled and exhaled before mimicking him and closing her eyes.

One strong emotion. Grief? An image of Elisara’s father’s eyes flashed, and her fingers trembled, revisiting the fake mirage of him at the Vellius Sea.

Betrayal? She thought of Caellum kissing her lady and searched for the emptiness she had felt, but it was difficult to imagine when Kazaar filled her entire being.

How could she envision emptiness when all she saw was him?

The tension at their proximity, their laughter on the Unsanctioned Isle, the first time he called her queen, their dance in Nerida, and the first time she wished to kiss him.

Every part of her was filled with Kazaar.

Her frustration at his secrets, his presence in her mind.

His flirtatious words, his teasing words, their first kiss.

His hands, his mouth. His understanding and desire.

Him. Every part of her was filled with him.

Passion was the only emotion she could fixate on as she focused on every memory with him, darkness engulfing her mind as she embraced the feeling of him, and then a flicker.

Elisara gasped as it flickered again, deep in the corners of her mind.

“Anything?” Kazaar asked.

“A flame,” she breathed.

“A flame? Or pure light?” Kazaar asked. Elisara kept her eyes closed to focus and explain the feeling and image in her mind. A white glow appeared, but it moved like a flame.

“A flame,” she said confidently and opened her eyes. Kazaar’s eyes remained their usual deep brown, crinkling with his grin. Elisara glanced down at the flame dancing in their palms.

“I am honoured that the first you should find creates flames in your eyes,” he breathed, staring deep into hers and Elisara gasped. The flame disappeared. “You did it!”

“Did my eyes really glow?” she asked, shocked to finally conjure something after all their hard work.

He nodded. “A flicker of amber, like mine or Nyzaia’s.”

Elisara covered her mouth with her hands.

“But yours do not glow a different colour depending on the element.” She frowned, and Kazaar shook his head.

“They used to, but they stopped changing not long after I mastered the powers.”

Elisara nodded slowly, and a small smile crept onto her lips. They finally had something that might lead to more .

“I did it. I really did it,” she said, focusing on that feeling again and her connection to him.

She held out her palm, but no flame appeared.

Frowning, she tried again. “Urgh!” Using her sword as a crutch, she pushed herself from the ground.

The sword glinted in the sun as she swung it, distracting herself.

“Do you remember why you took that sword?” asked Kazaar with a daring look and mischievous smile. His own sword, the Sword of Sonos, screeched when it met hers. Elisara rolled her eyes as they went through their usual training motions.

“I wanted a reminder,” she breathed. “That I had done something for my kingdom.” Kazaar grunted and pushed back, a flourish of movements sending them round and round in circles.

Elisara’s sword hit his again, and she could have sworn light sparks burst from the connection.

Kazaar dropped his elbows, and Elisara stumbled, their swords crossed between them.

“And you will do so again, with or without the power of all four.” Elisara tried to look away from him but could not.

“You will do so again, with or without whatever light and dark exists within us. Our blood is enough. It will take longer, but as long as all fighters have a weapon that mimics the Sword of Sonos, we will win.”

“You do not know that, Kazaar,” Elisara’s voice broke, and her finger twitched on the hilt of her sword. She glanced down. The tendrils she so often saw wrapping around Kazaar’s hand reached out to caress her skin.

“I know it, Elisara.” She looked back up at the certainty in his voice.

“There is no world that exists where I am not with you, which means we must win.” They lowered their swords, magnetised by the tie within them, as Elisara leaned her head against his shoulder.

Comfort enveloped her as Kazaar wrapped his arms around her, reaching for the back of her neck.

I can do this.

The comfort of the moment was disrupted when someone dramatically cleared their throat. Elisara refused to turn her head, unwilling to leave the safety of Kazaar’s arms.

“ He has perfect timing ,” Elisara said to Kazaar in her mind, who scoffed.

“ He always does.”

The owner of the cough shuffled in the gravel, waiting. Elisara sighed and pulled back from Kazaar, greeting Caellum with an awkward wave.

“Sadira is ready for you both,” he said plainly, glancing between the pair like he had every day since coming to collect them.

Elisara recognised the downturn of his features.

Something was upsetting him, though she did not believe it was her.

Every day, he came at the same time. Elisara did not know why he bothered; they knew when to visit her.

Kazaar plastered on a fake grin and intertwined his hand with Elisara’s, who refrained from rolling her eyes.

Kazaar did this every day, too. Caellum nodded and turned for the palace.

The cool air in the palace was a relief as Elisara kicked off her shoes and followed barefoot.

Every day at noon, they gave their blood to Sadira, and every day Elisara hoped it would be the last. Sadira was yet to find success with the imbuement.

Elisara smiled politely when she entered the small room that had become Sadira’s workplace.

Every surface was hidden by pots and jars and bunches of fresh and dried plants.

Elisara did not know how Sadira managed working here each day; a few minutes gave Elisara a headache, overcome by the concoction of scents.

Caellum assumed his usual spot in the corner beside the door.

Sun streamed in through the glass windows to Elisara’s right, who sat on one of the two chairs in the room opposite Sadira’s main desk.

Sadira returned Elisara’s smile. She was unsure at what point the two had become civil, but their working relationship was far better than Elisara and Caellum’s, or Sadira and Caellum’s, for that matter.

Something had happened between them, given how quickly their behaviour around one another had changed. They did not touch or look at one another, and Elisara curiously wondered why.