Page 72 of Return of the Darkness (The Lost Kingdom Saga #3)

Elisara

“ T hat was a rather long absence.” Elisara whirled at Sallos’s voice, realising it had worked.

She had summoned only him. Her army of shadows had waited at the edge of the Neutral City as she left, commanded by Sallos in the two months she was absent.

Her ability to manage her darkness had reinstated her control over all the soldiers, even those who had previously wreaked havoc throughout the realms. When Elisara crossed back into Vala, alongside Vlad, Vigor, and Helena, she had channelled them back into the sword after informing Sallos of her intentions.

The ability to reclaim and wield her power on the Isle of Gods had renewed her confidence, along with Vala’s reminder that Elisara was more than her heartbreak.

She doubted the lords of Vala would appreciate her returning with an army of shadows, particularly after abandoning them for two months.

She was right. Her return was not well-received.

It had taken many conversations to convince the lords she was fit to rule.

Eventually, she’d given up on civilities and willed her shadows to swarm her body like a dress, forming a crown of darkened wisps as she reminded them, she was their queen.

Patience was not a virtue that came naturally to Elisara now—neither was being told what to do.

The gods had used her to break the link between Novisia and the Isle of Gods, putting all of their citizens' lives at risk.

Fury had festered in Elisara ever since.

Fury at the gods, at Sitara. Fury at Caligh and her loss of Kazaar.

“Is that your way of saying you missed me?” Elisara asked coldly, padding barefoot over the cold stone floor of her chambers. She paused at the archway of the balcony, where Sallos rested his forearms on the snowy wall, overlooking the city beneath the stars.

“You are my queen. Is it not natural to worry when we are parted?”

Elisara glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He wore the same clothes, with moisture seeping into his tanned jacket sleeves and his white linen shirt offering little reprieve from the realm.

“Aren’t you cold?”

“I no longer feel the cold,” he said. “I don’t really feel anything.”

“What a sad existence,” Elisara scoffed, resting her hands on the wall as snow fell over Azuria’s rooftops.

“Well, I am dead inside a sword. How joyful can I be?” Elisara pursed her lips.

Dead. Caellum was dead. Kazaar was dead.

Sighing, Elisara made a mental note to check the Avery in the morning.

Ever since departing, Elisara and Sadira had exchanged daily letters, bound together in their grief.

It was nice, having someone to write to who understood the front she had to put on as queen when all she wished to do was wallow in bed.

“How is the Queen of Garridon?” Sallos asked. Elisara looked at him.

“Don’t do that.”

“What?” he asked, shifting to lean against the wall and watch Elisara.

“Don’t sense my thoughts or emotions or whatever you are doing.

” Only Kazaar was allowed in her mind. Sallos nodded, understanding her true meaning.

“She is as one would expect when newly crowned and grieving. If we have no news from Larelle in the next day or so, I intend to aid with Vojta’s evacuation before visiting her in Garridon.

” Elisara peered across the city to the settlements closest to the Neutral City.

After another seven days of tremors, the destruction could extend past the realms’ borders.

Luckily, none of the settlements were close to the Neutral City’s entrance, allowing time for evacuations.

Vala’s citizens were currently being evacuated to Azuria and Alvera, the most coastal locations away from the tremors.

“So, what happens if the Princess of Nerida does not succeed?”

“She will,” said Elisara. “She has to.”

“Why is everyone so certain?”

“The princess seems to have a certain… intuition,” Elisara said. Larelle had explained as much. When Zarya last spoke with Osiris in her dreams, she awoke with glowing eyes, a sign of her power.

“Ahh,” said Sallos. “She is a seer.” Elisara whipped her head towards him, frowning. “If you’d summoned me sooner, I would have told you.” He raised a hand to his chest, feigning offence.

“What exactly is a seer? The same as the Wiccan with their prophecies?” Elisara asked, both intrigued and frustrated by what else Sallos knew yet kept to himself.

“Wiccan are gifted with prophecies and occasional visions, which are still open to interpretation, analysis, and deduction. A seer, on the other hand, sees the exact future and knows of events that will definitely happen.”

“So, was Zarya’s dream about Osiris true? And Larelle must get a message to him?”

“Yes, that was true, but that was not her gift of being a seer. She did not foresee the event; Osiris told her.” Elisara frowned, struggling to make sense of it.

“So, how exactly did Osiris speak with her?” Elisara asked. Sallos overlooked the city, as if unsure how much to divulge.

“Because Osiris is a child of two great lineages and possesses gifts from two lands.” Sallos held out his palms. “On one hand, the Hypheria, and on the other, the Staxions.”

“They are lands?” Elisara asked, rubbing her temples for focus.

“They are races, like the Wiccans and seers, but the people of Carvyre and Xyliar like to give everything a fancy name. The Hypheria are dreamwalkers. The Staxions, mind controllers.” Sallos turned from Elisara and strode back into her chambers, collapsing into an armchair before the fire and reaching for a book on the table.

Elisara clenched her fists and followed.

She did not know why she was shocked to learn about different races.

Wiccans were different, after all, but they descended from Garridon.

These races came from lands she had never been to or seen.

Larelle had spoken of Xyliar and Carvyre on the maps she had found, and if Osiris was truly the prince of Xyliar, and hailed from the legacy of two kingdoms, surely he would have enough ships to save them?

Elisara sat down in the armchair opposite Sallos, resting her hands on her knees.

He failed to hide his smirk as he skimmed through the pages.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Withholding information until I practically beg you for it?”

“Please, your Majesty. You don’t seem the begging type.”

Elisara cleared her throat and looked away, thinking of Kazaar.

“How did these lands come to be? These races and people?” she asked. Sallos held up a finger.

“Not people.”

“If they are not people, what are they?”

“They are the gods’ first attempt at humans, the first beings from which all others descend, as far back as your ancestors go.

Yet they weren’t quite as the two gods wanted; they were too powerful and cunning, with too much raw power flowing through their veins, with their ears deformed into points.

We call them Fae.” Elisara blinked. “Come now, you didn’t believe humans originated the same across all lands?

Or what Caligh told your ancestors before their memories were hidden was the truth?

” Elisara narrowed her eyes, watching the glee morph Sallos’s face as he held the power.

They had grown up believing the four gods had created humans to populate their lands, as that was what Caligh taught them.

He failed to mention they were, in fact, descendants of the first attempt at humans—fae.

“I trust nothing Caligh has ever said.”

“Good, you shouldn’t. Forget everything you have been told and pay attention.”

“I’m beginning not to trust anything you tell me, Sallos.”

“Gods, you sound so bitter when you say my name. Lighten up, your Majesty. New stories are the most fun.” Sallos grinned.

She saw no malice in his dark eyes, only entertainment.

“It’s why I abandoned my home and dedicated my life to sailing the seas to live a life of adventure, so I could one day sit in an armchair before a fireplace and tell all my wonderful stories.

” Elisara recalled Nyzaia’s story of the cult worshipping Farid like he was a god and wondered if the creators of these fae were similar.

She winced, remembering Farid was trapped on the Isle of Gods, perhaps even dead.

It served as a reminder of all they still had to face.

“So, these gods attempted to create humans, yet expended too much power and created fae instead, who possessed gifts like dream walking and mind control?”

“She’s piecing it together.” Sallos clapped his hands.

“Yes, on Xyliar, you have fae, who possess… special gifts, and then you have the Staxions. On Carvyre, again, there are some fae with certain abilities, as well as Hypheria, who are dreamwalkers. Each one has another race of sorts, too, but that’s not significant right now.

But remember, there are three races on each land. ” Sallos held up three fingers.

“And Osiris can access Zarya’s mind because he can dream walk?” Elisara frowned. “But he can also control dreams, so how do we know he isn’t controlling her?”

“He won’t be. He’s too prideful of his heritage.

He wouldn’t misuse it like his grandfather, nor is his power as strong.

He can simply fabricate ideas rather than control an actual person.

” Elisara stilled as a shiver ran up her spine.

A gust of wind blew through the chambers, recalling Osiris’s admission of his relationship with the man who killed Kazaar.

“His grandfather is Caligh.” Slowly, Sallos nodded, waiting for her to piece it together.

“Caligh is fae. His dark shadows are the special abilities you speak of, but he can control minds too. He is a Staxion of Xyliar.” When Elisara finished her conclusion, Sallos smiled.

“You’re quick when you want to be. His mind control allows him to hide his ears the same way he hid his entire true form—well, his body.

I do not know if he kept it after Larelle spoke his name, breaking his control over Osiris and the army.

” Elisara flinched, sensing her shadows crawl beneath her skin, even while asleep.

“But the gods said my power was akin to Caligh’s, which is how I broke the link.”

“Yes.” Sallos leaned forward on his knees, clasping his hands together.

“But if our power is similar because he is fae…”

“Which gods do you think were messing around trying to create humans first?” Sallos asked, his eyes intent. Elisara looked up and met them.

“Sitara and Sonos.” She collapsed back in her seat. There truly were other lands out there. Xyliar and Carvyre, home to races created by Sitara and Sonos. She could only assume the particular gifts of the fae on Carvyre were linked to Sonos’s own gifts.

“Which is why my people worship the kind of power you have—the same power that started our lineage.” Elisara quickly looked back at Sallos.

“Your lineage?”

Sallos snapped his fingers with a grin. Elisara pushed back into her armchair as she watched his canines sharpen and the tips of his ears develop into points.

“Sallos Abexu, disgraced Prince of Xyliar at your service.” Sallos bowed in his chair and looked up at Elisara from beneath his lashes. “I believe you’ve met my brother.”