Page 66 of Return of the Darkness (The Lost Kingdom Saga #3)

Soren

P ain thundered through Soren’s mind, battling between the flailing darkness in her skull and her soul's hands hammering against the metal bars, keeping her at bay.

Screaming rang in her ears. Whenever Soren blinked, flashes of her younger self appeared, battling to push through the bars while darkness ate away at the vines twisting around the ruined castle in her head.

Every time the darkness incinerated a vine, her head twitched; every time a flower grew in its place, her breathing calmed.

Every time a young Soren screamed, her heart cracked.

It had taken Garridon only a moment. With his hands on either side of her head, he said a jumble of unrecognisable words and the darkness recoiled, as though it were ablaze.

When she opened her eyes, he was gone, and she was left stumbling through the woods, trying to reach an open field to escape the suffocation she felt within the trees.

Shadows from the treetops tricked her mind into thinking Garridon had failed.

Branches scraping her arms felt like hands trying to claw her back.

Things Caligh had said—memories of things he had Soren do—swam through her mind as she stumbled into the sun.

It had all faded when she saw Sadira. Don’t take Sadira, take me.

Seeing her sister triggered the memory to the forefront of her mind and calmed Soren, though only for a moment.

Now, the shadows were back, and she hated Sadira—hated her sister for picking the man Soren must kill.

Soren did not recall her words to Sadira, but then she heard a name from her lips.

Nyzaia. I see you. Having tethered herself to that memory, she repeated those three words in her mind during the entire walk to the Neutral City to stay focused.

Soren stared at the back of Nyzaia’s head now; still, her head twitched, and she clenched and unclenched her fists, listening to those around her. I see you.

“Why me?” asked Elisara.

“Your power, while different, stems from the same place as Caligh’s, which—”

Nyzaia interrupted Vala’s explanation. “Caligh’s power stems from Sitara?” A chill ran through the room when Vala ignored her, and Soren flinched at the mention of his name.

“— which means you offer a balance to the curse. There must always be a balance, and thus a curse must always have a solution.” Vala trained her eyes on her descendant. “What better solution than that which is the same but different, challenging even Caligh’s power?”

“I don’t…”

Weak, they’re all weak . Soren twitched again yet bit her tongue, struggling to hold herself together. Farid sent her a warning look.

“All you need to do is channel your power into the ground; it should recognise your similarities,” Vala said.

“You don’t have to,” Vlad murmured from behind his queen. “We can find another way.”

“There is no other way,” said Keres bluntly.

“I—” Elisara’s hands trembled as she stood.

Separate Elisara and Kazaar. Soren clenched her eyes shut but forced them open again, unable to face the image of herself screaming, wrapping vines around the iron bars, desperately trying to pull them free.

Soren felt Farid’s stare, but she looked only at Garridon.

She could have sworn a smirk marked his lips.

“Before Elisara attempts this,” Caellum began. Soren whipped her head in his direction and found him behind her sister. “We need to know more. How do we find Sonos, and if we reunite him with Sitara, can they end Caligh?”

“Finding Sonos will bring balance again, which will help you end Caligh,” said Garridon, watching Caellum, the man who wore a crown he did not deserve. My crown.

“You keep speaking about balance, but other than lost memories and the silence of other lands, I see no imbalance,” said Larelle.

“How can you know of other imbalances while trapped here?” Nerida asked, and Larelle narrowed her eyes.

“So, the imbalances are on the other lands then, like Thassena, Xyliar, Carvyre?”

Soren wanted to reach up and grasp her head at all this talking. “I assume Eresydon, Asynthos, and Q’Ohar are other kingdoms, too, all suffering from some imbalance?” Larelle continued, her words clipped. Nyzaia cocked her head, as though remembering something.

“If you leave this land, you will learn more and can search for Sonos,” said Keres.

“This is getting really repetitive,” said Nyzaia.

“Then shut up and do as you’re asked!” Keres snapped.

Farid’s hands twitched near the pommel of his sword.

“Do you think our lives have been easy? We have also been used and sacrificed for the greater good. I have lived for thousands of years. Yet one simple request to find one god is a ‘ repetitive’ ask? Perhaps we keep asking because it is the one thing that will save us, restore the balance, and allow us to finally rest. Then you’re all welcome to live your insignificant lives. ” Keres stood, his eyes burning.

“Keres,” Garridon murmured, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “They do not know the weight of it all.”

“Don’t patronise us,” Nyzaia snapped. “We did not ask for this.”

“No, you did not,” Vala said, peering down at Elisara with saddened eyes as she wrapped both arms around herself and kept her eyes on the floor.

“I’ll do it,” Elisara whispered. No one dared object as the gods rose. Vala waved a hand to lift the stone table to the corner of the room, clearing the space. When she blinked, the rulers slid back in their chairs. Soren looked down at Nyzaia. She now sat directly beside her rather than in front.

“We would have just moved,” Nyzaia mumbled. I like Nyzaia , sang the voice in her mind, a young, light, and playful voice—a happy voice before Caligh had entered her mind and tainted it.

“Just take it slow, Eli,” said Caellum. Soren’s focus slipped from Nyzaia to the King of Garridon.

He stood next to her sister. Kill the king.

That is all I ask of you, Soren. The light in the room darkened as Elisara crossed to the room’s centre.

Soren shook her head, hoping to rid the darkness.

A knee nudged Soren’s, and she looked down at Nyzaia, who met her eyes with a furrowed brow and inclined her head in question.

The image of her burning eyes outside the tavern entered Soren’s mind, allowing her to focus. I see you. Soren nodded.

Elisara trembled as she stood in the middle of the room and turned her palms outward.

“I haven’t used it since I called it back in,” she whispered. The gods shared a look before Vala reached her descendant and clasped her hands in hers. Elisara hesitated, meeting Vala’s gaze.

“When you called it back in, what were you thinking of?” Vala asked. Elisara’s eyes watered, and she blinked back tears.

“Kazaar,” she breathed. Nyzaia shifted. Soren knew if she looked down, pain would mar Nyzaia’s expression. Separate Elisara and Kazaar. Vala’s hand moved to rest over the moon on Elisara’s collarbone.

“It is because he is still a part of you. Kazaar may be gone, but you shared a tie. When he left, a piece of him remained here.” Vala‘s hand lowered to Elisara’s heart.

“He is your tether. He helps you, even in death.” Elisara sniffed and nodded before rolling back her shoulders.

Vala bowed her head and returned to stand by her siblings, a note of pride in her eyes.

As Nyzaia turned to look up at Farid, sudden envy surged within Soren at their tie.

She clenched her jaw and looked ahead at Elisara.

Slowly, the Queen of Vala breathed in and out for several minutes, keeping her eyes closed as though searching for something within herself.

Soren stopped fidgeting as wisps of shadows radiated from Elisara’s body.

Dark strands flowed from her and twisted, slow and steady, under their queen’s command.

Soren tilted her head. A silver string appeared to drift through them beneath the light, but when Soren blinked, she saw only darkness.

In her mind, the shadows stirred, hissing at the recognition of those before them.

Her eyes snapped shut. She was on the cell floor, reaching through the vine-coated bars, which had been spread wide enough for a thirteen-year-old girl to escape through, if not for the remaining darkness forming a wall to stop her.

Soren tensed as she opened her eyes again.

Darkness swelled around Elisara. She flourished her hands as strands of shadow spiralled around her, forming a rapidly spinning cocoon around her body as its pace quickened.

The wall of darkness grew so thick Elisara was barely visible.

The dark walls Caligh had conjured on the battlefield sprung to Soren’s mind, matching the one keeping her sanity at bay.

Do not fail me, Soren, he had warned on so many occasions.

Soren frowned. What was his request? Separate Elisara and Kazaar .

Kazaar was gone, but Vala said a piece of him remained in Elisara’s heart.

Should she kill the Queen of Vala? Soren reached for the sword at her side but grasped air.

The shadows moved so fast a wind picked up in the room.

Soren glanced at the dagger strapped to Nyzaia’s thigh.

No, whispered the delicate voice in her mind—cracked but present, pushing the darkness.

Soren shook her head as the screaming started.

Her soul tried to break free, rising onto her knees to grasp the bars.

“Now what?” Elisara shouted over the wind. Soren gripped her head as the wind whipped at her braids.

“Release it!” Garridon grinned, his eyes on Soren.

Elisara’s hands shot out, and the sphere of darkness shot up in a plume towards the temple’s glass point.

The darkness in Soren’s mind watched, awe-struck, trying to reach Elisara’s power while moving further away from the girl in the cell.

The remnants of Caligh’s power laughed with glee, ricocheting around Soren’s head.

When Elisara yanked her hands down, the tower of dark magic crumbled—falling, falling, falling, until colliding with the stone ground.

A crack resounded throughout the room, and the darkness in Soren’s mind screamed as Elisara’s power sunk deep into the Isle of Gods.

Kill the king, said Caligh. With his original and most stern command echoing around Soren’s mind, she swiped the dagger from Nyzaia’s thigh and spun in one fluid motion.

As Elisara’s darkness sank deep into the Isle of Gods and the ground began to shake, Soren plunged a dagger into Caellum’s chest. He stumbled, wide-eyed, reaching for Sadira.

The wind seemed to slow as Sadira turned to look at her husband.

No signs of worry, pain, or heartbreak marred her sister’s eyes as she looked at Soren, and then Caellum, who held her shoulder.

Her brow furrowed when she noticed his trembling hand before her eyes travelled to the handle in Soren’s grip.

And when the ground trembled, Soren’s soul pushed through the shadows and tore apart the remaining shreds of darkness.

But it was too late.

As Sadira screamed, Soren let go of the dagger in the king’s chest and stumbled back.

“I told you it would get worse before it got better,” Garridon said from behind.