Page 12 of Legacy of the Heirs
“We need to look for something to help Kazaar wake Elisara,” she said. Farid finally moved then and turned to scan the bookshelf. He reached and gathered the volumes on the highest shelves while Nyzaia scanned for the book stuck in her mind—Myths and Lies of Ithyion.It was the only book she expected had answers and might reference the essence of one’s power. Farid dropped a heavy pile onto the table between the two armchairs, the wine glasses vibrating from the impact. She cocked her head, glancing between him and the books.
“These are all the books not covered in dust,” he said in his matter-of-fact way. “I assumed we wanted anything read frequently.” He held his hands behind his back, standing tall and rigid.
“That’s an odd assumption.” Tajana narrowed her eyes.
“Is it?” he asked. “You referenced a prophecy concerning the King of Keres; it seems a fair assumption that we are here to find any secretshecould have hidden.” He faced Nyzaia then. “Though I am uncertain how that relates to the Queen of Vala and her commander.”
The queen scanned her guard. While he was a quiet man—mysterious, some would say—he had done nothing but prove his dedication to Nyzaia and his position. From his pristine uniform to his immaculately trimmed beard and hair, he struck her as someone who did not break from order and procedure.
“Trust only the other heirs.”Nyzaia was reminded of Isha’s final words before taking her own life, so dedicated to keeping whatever secrets she had been privy to within Keres or those from Doltas Island as Soren had suggested. At her side, Tajana shook her head, but Nyzaia followed her gut.
“The prophecy states many things, but one line struck me when I was in the room with Kazaar: ‘When light meets dark in the rarest of times.’”Clasping her hands, she glanced at the patterns painted on the back of them. “Last night, there was a raised mark of a moon on Elisara’s collarbone.” Both members of her Queen’s Guard furrowed their brows. “Kazaar said something happened between them, so I’m working on the assumption there is a sun marked on him.”
“Light and dark, sun and moon,” Tajana summarised. Farid crouched before the stacks before him and pulled out a large black leather tome. When he turned the cover, Nyzaia faltered, ensuring her eyes did not deceive her.Myths and Lies of Ithyion.Below the title was a silver marking of an overlapping sun and moon. She reached Farid in seconds and snatched the book from his hands before sinking into one of the armchairs. She trailed her rough fingers along the embossed author’s name at the bottom.
Caligh Servusian.
Nyzaia did not recognise the name, but given how old the book appeared, that did not surprise her. Many people had passed long before her ancestors fled the siege in Ithyion. She opened the book and coughed at the dust floating into her vision. The crinkling stiff parchment confirmed her suspicions. The book was far too old to have been written by someone in this Kingdom. Tajana pulled a book from the remaining pile and took it to the desk, glancing between Nyzaia and Farid as she did.
Farid listed the other titles on the pile, yet Nyzaia remained too transfixed on the book to pay any notice. The first few pages had faded with age, and the cursive font was difficult to decipher, nearly illegible. She turned each page with care, conscious she possibly held one of the few items from Ithyion, aside from the talismans and Sword of Sonos.
Nyzaia had never been one for books. When her father sent her to spy on Elisara all those years ago, she had sat restlessly on the balcony, waiting until Elisara finally finished reading. She hadnever understood how Elisara was so immersed. Yet as Nyzaia sat with centuries of potential history before her, she wondered if she was not one for fiction or tales of love and romance but the mysteries of those who lived real lives. If only she could sit in her chambers and do nothing but read over the coming days. Instead, she scanned the pages for key information and analysed the words and drawings. She continued flipping the pages, searching for a picture of a moon, sun, or both, but found only passing drawings of creatures she did not recognise. She paused on an illustration of a giant winged beast in water; scales covered every inch of its body, from its head and an unusually long neck all the way to its four-taloned feet. Could it somehow be related to the creatures that had taken Ithyion, the beasts Elisara and Kazaar had killed? Nyzaia just about construed the smudged cursive below the sketch, marked ‘River Drake.’ On the opposite page was a similar creature poised atop a mountain. Flames erupted from its nostrils, yet no matter how much Nyzaia squinted, she could not read the name scrawled below it. Other than the titles of the creatures, none of the paragraphs were comprehensible, all written in a language that was not her own. She flicked the page again and paused. A plain page with a simple title stared back at her.
Celestial Ties,it read, and below was a sketch of the sun and moon, followed by four markings, all curved in some manner or another: some with multiple curls and flicks, others barer. Nyzaia frowned.Four. She glanced at the door of the hidden room. Similar markings etched the mirror frame but were less detailed, as though drawn from memory. Nyzaia turned the page, her eyes mesmerised by the drawing. Etched in charcoal, two hands reached for one another with twisting threads surrounding them. Despite the flat page, Nyzaia imagined they sparkled.
The celestial tie is thought to be bestowed upon two individuals who share a destiny. It is a bond presented by the Celestial Gods and anointed when two beings finally acknowledge their connection and allow their essences to merge.Some claim that, upon doing so, thepair are marked by the Gods. Such a mark grants them access to one another’s powers, memories, and minds. Few known cases of such a bond exist. For many years, the bond was frowned upon as stories emerged, suggesting those bestowed with such a mark could become too powerful. It is, therefore, unclear if more celestial ties exist yet are hidden for fear the individuals may be forced to separate and kept from one another.
Nyzaia slammed the book shut. Overcome by thoughts, she rose from her chair and decided to finish the rest later. Farid moved with her as she handed the book to Tajana.
“Take this to my chambers,” she commanded. Tajana began to speak but halted at Nyzaia’s raised hand. “Farid, you are with me.” Ignoring Tajana’s scowl, Nyzaia picked up the skirts of her lehenga to free her feet. She exited the office and ran through the hallways while one sentence repeated in her mind: ‘Granting them access to one another’s powers, memories, andminds.’
Kazaar was the only one who could wake Elisara.
Chapter Eight
Kazaar
Kazaar continued watching Elisara, hoping the image of the throne room had not been a fluke and that, somehow, he could reach her. A bombardment of emotions hammered at his mind, trying to break through the walls compartmentalising the different parts of his life: fear, betrayal, longing. The emotions were not his own, yet he recognised their invasion in his body. He always knew when they were hers.
When he averted his gaze from Elisara’s face, magic swarmed them. He froze, his hand still gripping hers as the magic twisted around them. It began at their conjoined hands. Kazaar’s burning white flame sparked, sending beautiful pearls of light to land on his brown skin. He jumped at its coolness, expecting it to burn.
Dark wisps lingered in their wake—small at first until the sparks and wisps bounced off one another, growing more curious. The lingering wisps lengthened and twisted around Elisara and Kazaar’s hands. The sparks responded like a kindred spirit, growing until silver threads of light intertwined with the darkness that appeared to tie Kazaar to Elisara. The threads coiled and danced, trailing up their arms until caressing the newly graced marks on their collarbones. Kazaar did not move, uncertain about what this power might do to her. He could not cause any further pain.
He closed his eyes as dark and light threads licked his skin, and behind his eyelids, a flash of the throne room appeared again. He opened his eyes, and Elisara’s eyelids fluttered. His mind was trying to tell him something, but what? He closed them again and trusted his intuition. The image held for longer, long enough to envisageElisara yelling at him from across the ice tomb, where the Sword of Sonos had been encased.
A memory, he realized, yet something was different about it. The walls were missing; instead, the night sky surrounded the pair. He had seen the memory depicted this way when he last tried reaching out to Elisara.
“Is this what you are thinking about?” Kazaar murmured. He stroked her forehead with his free hand, careful not to disrupt the encircling threads of magic. They ebbed and flowed until shadow and light encased the pair. While he had no idea how he must look to an outsider, Elisara was easy to describe. The gathering of shadows resembled a dress scattered with specks of light as if she was made of the night sky itself. Tendrils flooded behind her like wings, wishing to carry her away on the night breeze. Kazaar squeezed Elisara’s hand, and her eyelids fluttered until the glowing white threads formed above her head, reminding him of a drawing he had seen as a child.
An angel.She reminded him of an angel. He smiled despite his worry. It was apt that she should resemble such a serene and calm myth, given how she made him feel when he lowered his walls. If she looked like an angel, he only wondered what dark creature he resembled should anyone walk in. He sensed the shadows’ caress, enveloping him like they did her, yet he was too blinded by the brightness that was Elisara to see if it touched him.
A door slammed shut behind him, and the power between them dissipated. An uncomfortable absence remained.
“What wasthat?” Nyzaia exclaimed. It seemed the unearthly power had not dispersed quickly enough. Kazaar turned his head, and Nyzaia stepped back, colliding with the door. He frowned.
“Your eyes,” she whispered, taking slow steps towards Kazaar. He looked for a mirror before glancing at his hand intertwined with Elisara’s, unwilling to part from her. He heard the soft padding of Nyzaia’s feet as she approached and held a mirror out to him. His reaction resembled Nyzaia’s. Kazaar jerked his head backand gaped. He had only ever seen eyes like this once before when he had stared into Elisara’s in the moments of her rising power before she fell unconscious. Where Elisara’s had glowed white with wisps of shadow, his own were now ebbed with darkness, dispersed with specks of white that changed each time he blinked. He blinked and dropped his hand from Elisara’s, his eyes returning to their usual glow of amber before fading to brown.
He looked up at Nyzaia, whose eyes scanned his. Uncertainty crossed her features.
