Page 3 of Return of the Darkness (The Lost Kingdom Saga #3)
“She will do far greater than a prince in this kingdom. She will achieve far more than marriage and children.” Sitara touched the onyx talisman at her neck—the same one now burrowing into Elisara’s bones—but something was different.
It was not solid onyx. A shimmering substance glistened within.
Sitara turned it over, summoning shadows in one palm until it faded and left a small dagger behind.
“She will bring war, change, and peace. Eventually, she will restore everything. This time, it will work.” Sitara thrust the dagger into the back of the talisman, and a small fragment flew free, freezing mid-air amongst the shadows.
“We have all the timings correct this time, all the right players, all the pieces in place.”
“I do not understand—” As Sitara waved her hand, Vespera stopped talking. Sitara handed her dagger to the shadows, where they held it midair. She glanced at the small black fragment floating above Elisara.
“Eventually, you will understand your role in triggering the prophecy,” Sitara murmured to the queen, fixing her eyes on the black fragment.
Furrowing her brow, she closed her eyes and splayed her palm across her chest, murmuring words in another language until she tilted her head back.
Slowly, she withdrew her hand, and a thin trail of light followed with it, pulsing like a living heartbeat.
Her essence. Sitara flourished her fingers, and the thread of her essence wrapped around the black fragment, cradling it.
Sitara reached down and picked up the sleeping baby, yet the movement stirred Elisara from sleep.
Vespera frowned as she tried to move but found she could not.
Her chest rapidly rose and fell, and her eyes widened, looking manically between the goddess and her daughter.
“Shhh,” Sitara hummed, reaching for the dagger held by the shadows.
“You will be my greatest child, Elisara.” Sitara poised the dagger against the baby’s arm.
“With you, I get him back.” The baby shrieked as the dagger pierced her skin, drawing one short line down her forearm.
Vespera’s eyes widened with panic, unable to move while watching her child bleed.
With a wave of her hand, the floating, essence-encased fragment drifted towards Sitara and the baby, hovering above the blood.
“This won’t mean anything until we meet again, child.
But make the most of life until we do,” Sitara whispered, pushing both her essence and the fragment into the open wound.
Infant Elisara stopped crying, and her eyes flickered to black momentarily before closing.
As Sitara wiped her thumb over the wound, it slowly knitted itself together.
Padding across the moonlit floor, Sitara approached Vespera and handed Elisara back.
Hugging her daughter close, Vespera hurried to the far side of the room, away from Sitara.
She raised her hand to create a barrier of fire against the goddess, but Sitara was before her in seconds, clutching the queen’s wrist.
“You won’t remember any of this.” Sitara’s voice softened, like she genuinely regretted the pain yet to come.
“I am sorry this will end your life, Vespera, but Elisara is the best chance we have.” Sitara glanced back at the baby and gently traced her forehead.
“You are his star, Elisara, and together, you will rule the skies.”
The vision washed away, tearing Elisara’s mind apart as she opened her eyes to meet Sitara’s glistening ones.
“Please understand,” Sitara murmured. Elisara tried to shift her focus elsewhere in the throne room, fighting against the final vision forced upon her.
She blinked as someone struck a hammer against a black sword, similar to the material of the talisman and fragment within Elisara, before they encased it in a muted silver.
Women in dark-hooded cloaks circled the blade, chanting under their breaths as diadems on their foreheads glinted under the moonlight.
They positioned their blood-coated palms skyward as wisps of black shadows circled the space, bodies, things, and creatures—Elisara could not discern it all.
One moment they were there, and the next, the chanting stopped.
The shadows clinging to the sword faded.
Looking at the figures, Elisara noted a pendant around each of their necks, the symbols matching the front of Sadira’s Wiccan book.
There was something different about it, though, with the lines curving in different directions.
A man handed a black stone to another man, whose expression was grim as he held out his palm and furrowed his dark eyebrows above even darker eyes.
“That was all that was left of the material,” he grunted, pocketing the onyx stone now embedded in Elisara’s chest. The vision flickered, and Elisara’s head drooped forward.
“No!” Sitara shouted. “No, we aren’t finished.
” The many images had vanished until Elisara could only focus on the black onyx stone in her chest. Blood still bubbled around it.
Sitara grunted, yanking it free. Elisara had no strength left to scream as it clattered against her chest. Instead, a final image of Sitara remained, planting the dull grey sword, hiding its true material on the Unsanctioned Isle.
The piercing cold of the stone sent Elisara crashing into reality, and she blinked the water from her eyes and raised her head to face Sitara. She met fury.
“That wasn’t nearly enough! You must know more to understand everything fully!
” Sitara screamed, backing away from Elisara to pace the stardust-covered floor.
Elisara collapsed against the marble throne, inhaling deeply as she processed what had happened.
She tugged the talisman aside to rub her chest. Only a small circular scar remained, yet it was perfectly concealed by the large onyx stone—the only trace of the lives and visions that had bombarded her mind.
Elisara’s skin crawled, and something moved within her as a wave of anger overcame her.
She glared up at Sitara through her lashes.
“I’m really sick of gods withholding information from us.”
Sitara whirled to face her. “If I could simply tell you, do you not think I would?” Sitara spat.
“It would be far easier, but instead, we must use riddles to show you what we can in any way we can.” Elisara frowned.
What could possibly stop a goddess—the first goddess—from acting freely?
Sitara scoffed. “Please tell me you understood enough from that.” Sitara’s eyes pierced Elisara as she impatiently tapped her crossed arms. Sighing, Elisara leaned forward to rub her temples.
“The Sword of Sonos is laced in poison, which kills the creatures.” Sitara simply nodded.
“It is not imbued with power by the Wiccans?” Elisara asked, and Sitara shook her head.
Frowning, she added, “Then what did Sadira imbue?” Sitara opened her mouth to answer but closed it with a frustrated sigh.
Instead, Sitara tapped her chest, prompting Elisara to reach for the talisman around her neck.
She recalled the onyx stone encased by the dull sword left on the Unsanctioned Isle, and the piece planted in her as an infant.
“But what does it do? What does it mean?” Elisara asked.
Sitara looked up at the sky, clenching her hands. She truly cannot tell me.
“The Sword of Souls.” The goddess’s voice rang through her mind before she crippled over with a groan. Elisara took a cautious step forward, but Sitara raised her hand before straightening.
“Remember, I cannot predict the future.” Sitara stepped towards Elisara until they stood toe to toe.
“I can only see different threads.” Sitara clutched Elisara’s head until their foreheads touched.
Different images of the Ashun Desert flicked through her mind, but one stood out.
Elisara stood before Caligh, wielding all four elements, while the rulers stood behind her.
She widened her eyes as she watched herself pull the sword from her back and pierce the ground. Darkness exploded from her.
Elisara stumbled but Sitara caught her, resting a hand on Elisara’ s chest.
“Do you understand?” Sitara asked, and slowly, Elisara nodded.
“Will it defeat him? Is the power enough?”
“It is one of the threads.”
“How do I access it?” Elisara asked, and Sitara smiled gently.
“It has always been within you. Caligh will believe he unlocked it when he killed Kazaar, that your pain would bring it to the surface. But that is not true, child. I may have awoken it, but you control it, not your emotions. You .” Sitara cupped Elisara’s cheek.
“I will be with you, though only briefly.”
“I…”
“You can do this without him, Elisara. Kazaar would believe in you,” Sitara murmured. “Avenge them for us.”