Page 38 of Legacy of the Heirs
“Where do you suggest we find more bodies?” asked Kazaar, and the Historian sighed.
“We are but one kingdom; Ithyion was another. Who is to say there are no other lands out there—other beings able to send aid?” The Historian rose unsteadily from his seat. “I will leave; I will search for help,” he concluded, though his trembling hands did little to reassure Nyzaia he was capable of such a thing, and it was a fool's hope to believe they would find other lands after all these years. Elisara said as much while Nyzaia grew distracted, watching Tajana whisper with Talia and noting their smiles and the family tie between them. How had she never realised?
“Ithyion was my home—thisis my home.” The Historian raised his voice. “I cannot fight here, but I can try to find others. I cannot stand by and lose another home.” He choked, fighting his emotions.
“How can you be certain there are others?” Nyzaia asked.
“The creatures had to originate somewhere. When the beasts invaded Ithyion, where had they come from? It makes me suspectmore lands exist,” the Historian answered. “This land that is now Novisia was the first your ancestors found. Had they sailed further or in a different direction, they may have landed elsewhere.” Nyzaia turned over his words. He was right. There could be much beyond the borders of their kingdom that had not yet been explored.
“You cannot do this alone,” Elisara said softly. “You will need aid.”
“My brother is a fine sailor. He is of station to have a ship.” Alvan said and then clenched his jaw. “If I am to rule in Larelle’s place, as she stated…” He glanced at his hands. “Then I can provide you with a ship and a crew.” He nodded to the Historian, who gave him a pitiful smile. Tajana and Talia moved closer to where Alvan and Soren stood.
“You will need fighters,” Kazaar added. “In case the lands you come across are hostile to visitors.”
“Tajana will go,” Nyzaia said bluntly. The room fell silent as Tajana looked at her, unspoken words flickering behind her eyes before facing Soren for approval. Flames ignited in Nyzaia’s fingertips and licked up her arms. A hand brushed her shoulder, and Nyzaia angled her head up at Farid, attempting to calm her.
Soren nodded.
“I will go,” Tajana said.
“Talia will join you,” Elisara said, her coldness clear.
“Talia will join her,” Soren agreed, smirking. Sadira’s confusion was apparent as she watched their exchange beside Caellum, who squeezed her shoulder from where he stood.
“We shall all meet back in the Neutral City,” Nyzaia said, eager to leave Tajana’s presence. “It makes the most sense to try to connect with the gods from each realm.”
“And Larelle?” Alvan asked, fighting back tears. “Where does saving Larelle fall into all these plans?”
“If we can speak to the gods, we can ask where we may find her.” Nyzaia reassured him, but Alvan laughed without humour.
“How do you intend to speak to the gods when Larelle has halfher talisman still around her neck?” He shouted.
“Shit,” Kazaar swore. In the excitement of forming a plan, they had all selfishly forgotten their fellow ruler. Shame barraged Nyzaia’s mind.
“It likely will not have travelled far,” said the Historian. “They arrived as a pack; after such a battle, it is unlikely it could travel far carrying Larelle.”
“The Trosso shores,” Elisara said. “The first return of the creature was found on the shores of Trosso in a cavern. Perhaps that is where they kept hidden before their attack. What if that is where it has taken her in the meantime?”
Alvan nodded tightly, though his face was devoid of hope.
“I will send ships to patrol the Novisian border and with your permission, the shores across all four realms.” He looked at Nyzaia, Caellum, and Elisara, who nodded in unison. “I will head to Trosso at first light.” He said no more and left the room, his head lowered. Sadira hurried after him, with Caellum in quick pursuit.
“Vlad, could you escort the Historian to his Chambers?” Elisara called to her captain, having returned from aiding the Neridian princess. He did as asked until only Nyzaia, her syndicate, Soren, Tajana, and Talia remained. Soren rose from the table and clapped the backs of the two women standing to attention on either side of her.
“Talia, could you escort me to the infirmary?” Soren asked, gesturing at the wound on her face. Talia nodded, and they walked past Nyzaia, though not before a final taunt from Soren. “Tajana!” Soren barked. “Say your goodbyes,” and then she left the room.
Nyzaia felt the presence of her syndicate behind her: Rafik, Issam, and Jabir. Farid moved to her side, drawing his sickle blade from his back. The clang of metal as the men withdrew their swords and daggers sounded next, and Nyzaia finally met Tajana’s eyes. Every happy memory flashed through her mind then—every mission, kiss, and night together, the plans they made, and the life they dreamed of. It was all a lie.
“I loved you,” Nyzaia choked, struggling to hold back the emotions she exposed to onlyher.Tajana said nothing, her face devoid of feeling. Nyzaia did not discern the emotions swimming in her green eyes: was it pity? Disappointment? Regret? Tajana opened her mouth to speak.
“Ny—”
“Do.Not. Speak. Her. Name.” Farid stepped forward, and Tajana reached for the pommel of her sword. “You once said that to become captain of my Queen’s Guard, I must best you.” He took slow steps across the stone, but Tajana did not draw her weapon. The red of his traditional uniform was stark compared to her black leathers that once symbolised her dedication to the Red Stones. Tajana’s eyes narrowed as she looked from Nyzaia to Farid. “I do not need to best you in swordplay when I have beaten you without ever needing to try.”
Nyzaia stepped closer to Farid.
“What are you talking about?” Tajana sneered.
