Page 94 of Emylia

He drew in a slow breath, shoulders rising with the weight of the memory.

“Especially since the Western Warriors and our people had become divided again, each claiming their own God, their own laws.”

He stilled now, folding his arms, voice heavier.

“The Western Warriors believe Noctharis to be the true ruler of the Gods. While Agertheria worships Elessandria, the one true Goddess. But a formidable army could never rise while we warred amongst ourselves.”

The quiet held. Even the breeze seemed to falter.

“Seventeen long years after the King and Queen’s fall, a new warrior emerged. Born of the West, but fueled by something far deeper.”

He stepped forward again, brow furrowed in shadow.

“His name was Oryx. And his only purpose… was to destroy Crixus. He trained for years. Waited. And when the moment came, he struck.”

“Revenge… for what?” a boy with shaggy curls blurted, his voice cracking the stillness.

Olag turned to him slowly, eyes gleaming with something darker, and took a haunting step closer.

“Crixus took the life of the woman Oryx loved,” he said. “And from that day on, Oryx swore that he would be the one to end him. To liberate Agertheria.”

The boy’s mouth parted, but no more words came.

“Did he win?” he asked finally, barely above a whisper. “Did Oryx defeat Crixus?”

A roguish smile curved Olag’s lips—half truth, half legend.

“No one knows the details,” he said. “Only that Oryx emerged victorious. The only rumor that remains is that he breached the fortress without a single casualty. That he stormed the castle before Crixus even realized he’d been attacked.”

A hush deeper than before rippled through the circle.

“Does that mean Oryx is King now?”

A whimsical laugh—lighter than it should’ve been—escaped Olag’s throat.

“Agertheria has not had a ruler since Crixus fell. Oryx disappeared—vanished like smoke. Some say he died. Others believe he walks among us still, biding his time.”

“What about the princess?” a girl with golden ringlets asked, her voice small and filled with awe.

Olag turned toward her, crouching low, knees creaking slightly as he met her gaze. The morning light caught the worn lines of his face, sharpening the gravity of his expression.

“She’s never been found,” he said gently. “But they say she’s out there. And that one day, when the time is right, she’ll return to the throne—and peace will come again.”

He stood slowly, breath clouding in the cool air.

“Others whisper that the Goddess Elessandria hid her away in Elinthia, behind gates no man can breach. Waiting for the day the prophecy comes true.”

I was so immersed in the story that I didn’t hear someone come to a halt behind me until a finger gently tapped on my shoulder, a familiar voice accompanying it.

“Hey.” Maalikai’s piercing eyes sent my stomach roiling viciously.

“Hey.” I could almost feel Sebastian roll his eyes next to me.

I cleared my throat and stepped away from Olag as he started to tell his next story about an ancient set of twins, a boy and girl, who rewrote the history of Agertheria some eons ago and used magik to save the realm–another favorite of mine.

“Soo…” Sebastian dragged out the word for effect, following after us as we broke away from the crowd. “What’s up?”

He was trying—Gods, he wastrying—to sound casual. Like he wasn’t unraveling slowly behind his easy tone.

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