Page 84 of Legacy of the Heirs (The Lost Kingdom Saga #2)

Nyzaia

When Nyzaia was six, her three brothers had played their favourite game, hide and seek.

Yet when Nyzaia hid in a servant’s storage room, they locked her in her spot and never sought her out.

She cried for three hours until Kazaar finally found her, and it had taken him a mere three minutes to find her brothers and set their clothes alight.

When Nyzaia was fifteen, Kazaar started training her with swords. Although he knocked her down time and time again, he would help her up with a nugget of advice. Until one day—the day before her sixteenth birthday—she beat him. That was the day she left for the Red Stones.

Every day during her training, Kazaar would sneak a gift into the Red Stones den: a chocolate, a note, or new information. Kazaar Elharar had been her brother. Until today. Until he was taken from her, and she could do nothing.

Nyzaia replayed it in her mind on repeat, reliving the helplessness coursing through her as she tried to claw through the darkness to reach him.

Yet fear had locked her in place once the darkness fell away.

Elisara ran to him, but Nyzaia had not—instead, she was frozen with shock, heartbreak, and the grief of her fallen brother.

It was the most pain Nyzaia had ever endured, and she had been tortured, used for trials, found the bodies of her family, and lost the love of her life to betrayal, but nothing— nothing compared to losing the flame of her real brother.

She felt the mark in her hand, a reminder of her tie to Farid.

Losing him might be the only thing that could one day hurt Nyzaia more.

Warm hands rested on her shoulders and squeezed gently.

She reached for Farid’s hand, tears trailing down her cheeks.

Caellum arrived and left for Elisara, though Nyzaia did not think anyone could help her now, but it was worth a try. Nyzaia had not been able to.

As the shadows receded from the Novisian soldiers, Nyzaia commanded the armies to retreat.

Soldiers had run, and in between it all, Elisara remained, kneeling in the blackened ashes of Kazaar.

Elisara sobbed and frantically waved her hands to pull back the pieces of him floating away in the wind.

She rocked back and forth on her knees and clutched his talisman to her chest. Nyzaia watched and knew she could do nothing, yet she tried.

Bending down to Elisara, Nyzaia calmly spoke to her despite her own grief tearing through all reason.

“No,” Elisara whispered, repeating that one word. She shook Nyzaia’s hands from her shoulders before stumbling up the dune for the tent she shared with Kazaar.

The tent flap rustled, and Caellum re-emerged, leaning down to kiss Sadira before taking the seat beside her. He let out a heavy sigh.

“Well?” asked Alvan, wrapping a blanket around Larelle’s damp shoulders.

Nyzaia waved her hand to dry the fabric instead, and Larelle smiled in thanks.

It calmed Nyzaia to use her powers again after the wall of darkness had dimmed the flames within her to nothing. She never wanted to feel that again.

“She told me what he said to her.”

“How is she first?” asked Larelle, and Caellum rubbed his forehead.

“Not good. She cried—a lot—but there was something off with her when I left. A stillness, as though she was completely numb.”

“That is as one would expect,” said Larelle, and Caellum murmured his agreement but frowned all the same. Nyzaia channelled her feelings to Farid, unable to speak just yet.

“What did she say about the armies and Caligh?” asked Farid, who moved from his spot behind Nyzaia as Sir Cain entered with a piece of paper. Death roll. Farid began moving the pieces on the battle map as Caellum spoke, removing the pieces of the soldiers they had lost.

“He told her to meet on the sands in two hours.”

“That was twenty minutes ago,” said Alvan.

“He said he wanted her and the kingdom,” Caellum continued.

“That makes little sense.” Larelle frowned. “Why ask for Kazaar but then kill him and demand Elisara?”

“Initially, he did not wish for civilian loss, yet now he wants all the kingdom?” Alvan added. The rulers frowned. Why would he want civilians? Nyzaia tried to think, ignoring the images of Kazaar that broke the surface of her thoughts.

“Elisara thinks he killed Kazaar because he was a threat to his power, and if Elisara has the essence of Sonos, she, too, would be a threat. That is why he wants her.”

“Well, he cannot have her,” Larelle scoffed, and they all murmured their agreement. Farid removed the final piece from the battle map and placed spare circles as markers for the copper army. They were outnumbered by the arrival of the extra troops.

“At least we have far fewer creatures to consider,” Sadira said with some optimism.

“Did you notice how some differed?” asked Larelle. “Some are eyeless, yet others transformed, like Osiris did.”

Some of the group nodded. It was odd.

“They are made,” Nyzaia said finally, and all eyes turned to her. “He made the creatures from humans. Remember what we were told? How children went missing from Ithyion? What if the ones who transform are successful attempts while those who do not are failed?” Larelle’s eyes widened.

“He wants the citizens to build his army,” Larelle said, but for what? It dawned on them all, then, that they were merely a chess piece in a wider game. Novisia was merely another land to conquer, just like Ithyion. All for someone else, all for something bigger .

“He still may not be the one in charge. Perhaps he is a general following orders,” said Sadira.

“If he has that much power as a general, can you imagine who else we may be up against?” Nyzaia mumbled, and silence ensued as they thought of the possibilities.

They had spent their time as monarchs believing the prophecy was about them and was their greatest problem to defeat.

Now, they faced the reality, more uncertainty, and the threat that the legacy they left behind would be one of darkness.

“What now? Larelle asked. She looked at Nyzaia, who gave a slight shake of her head.

She could not lead. She could not focus or act rationally with Kazaar gone.

Farid returned to his position behind her, and Nyzaia noted how the rulers watched him differently.

They had all seen. Nyzaia cleared her throat and showed them her palm, and hesitantly, Farid followed suit.

“We are tied,” she said plainly.

“Not romantically, like Elisara and…” Farid trailed off, and if Nyzaia was not grieving, she would have laughed at his bluntness to affirm such a thing.

“Do you have…” Caellum gestured to Farid’s back, and Nyzaia shook her head. Perhaps if she had wings, she could have saved him. “Are you… related to them somehow?” Caellum asked, and Nyzaia’s gaze shot to him.

“Does he fucking look anything like them?” she snapped.

“Should we be suspicious merely because he has wings?” Caellum closed his mouth.

“He looks nothing like them and is nothing like them.” Farid placed a hand on her shoulder, and a wave of calm rushed through her.

“We can factor Farid into our plans; he is an asset, particularly against the creatures.” Nyzaia tuned out the sound of their voices, leaving them to determine battle tactics as she stared at the map before her.

So many lost, and so many more they could lose.

Nyzaia always had fight within her, but for the first time in her life, she felt like giving up and sending a note to Lord Israar to offer him the throne.

She could return to life in the Red Stones, isolated with only her pain for company.

She liked fighting and would even love wings like Farid’s were she ever to turn into one of those creatures.

You could not live under someone else’s command, Kazaar would say to her now.

He would be right, of course, but the alternative was death, and unless she was to be reunited with Kazaar, that would be just as lonely an existence.

“Queen Larelle.” A guard entered the tent. “We have the bodies, as requested.” Larelle nodded and rose.

“Bodies?” asked Nyzaia. Alvan held the tent flap open for them.

“There is something I want to check, to learn more about them. When I was taken, Osiris said he owed a debt. I do not believe these creatures had a choice in the destruction they caused today.”