Page 56 of Legacy of the Heirs
“They are simply to stop you from using your power against us while we talk.” He hummed and turned back, leaning sideways against the damp wall. Larelle reached for the ocean, but nothing happened. She reached for the water pooling in rocks, but again—nothing. She reached for the tears threatening to spill in her eyes at the emptiness blooming within her. Nothing.
“Now that you have confirmed you indeed have lost access to your power, let us discuss what you know.” Osiris examined his fingernails. “I would hate to do this the hard way when we have only just met.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Elisara
“What about this one?” Elisara asked.
“When I was seventeen, I tried to steal liquor from Razik’s personal stash. I summoned vines for the first time to lift it from the shelves.” Kazaar lazily traced circles on Elisara’s shoulder while she examined the vines inked on the inside of his left bicep.
“This one?” she asked, pointing to a sail in the crook of his elbow, hidden among small symbols. She frowned.
“Razik wanted me to commandeer a ship he believed was stealing gold from him. I accidentally sunk it instead of setting it on fire,” he murmured, turning his head to face her. She smiled.
“And they just appeared?” He nodded while she grazed her finger over them, wishing she had all the time in the world to count them and inspect every inch of him. She could not begin to guess how many markings there were, which left her wondering about his many stories. The corner of her lips tugged upward as her finger trailed back to his collarbone. There was no inking yet on her favourite mark—their mark—but the feeling of it under her thumb felt the same as the other inkings and scars.
“Each time I used a new power or used it differently, the scarred marks would appear. I felt nothing when they appeared, but I inked over them so they would appear superficial.” Elisara frowned as her pinkie grazed a familiar small symbol, a memory tugging in the back of her mind.
“Are these small ones the same as those on the floor of the throne room on the Unsanctioned Isle?”
“I was so worried you’d notice when we were there,” Kazaar murmured.
“Did you ever figure out why they appeared?”
“I have no answer to that except for the celestial tie keeping your freezing body glued to mine.” She smacked his chest, and he chuckled. Elisara had awakened to Kazaar, gently stroking her back to gently wake her. That had been an hour ago, but they would need to rise soon. Instead, she spent the hour examining the many inkings across his upper body as he held her close in the bed designed for one. The inkings were a welcome distraction from her insistent thoughts that coaxed her into a spiral of overthinking about everything that transpired the evening before. She wondered if he meant his words before she kissed her, or when he promised there would be a ‘next time.’ Elisara focused on each mark on his skin to distract from the feeling in her heart that was so intent on carving itself into her permanently.
“What about this one?” Elisara pointed to a flaming dagger hidden beneath the vines on his forearm. Kazaar pulled his arm out from under her and rose from the bed, inviting the breeze of the early morning air to rush under the blanket, which she pulled close to her body as she sat up, spilling her dark waves over her shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” she asked as Kazaar hastily pulled on his leathers. She was very conscious then of her naked body underneath the blanket.
“We need to get moving. That talisman won’t collect itself.” His lip lifted, though it lacked the sincerity she expected. Elisara tried to push into his mind, but dark walls shot from the ground within and blocked her instantly. She narrowed her eyes.
“Do not,” he said, his voice clipped. She wrapped the blanket around her and shifted to the edge of the bed, where he had undressed and done so much more to her last night. The memory must have flashed in his mind, too, exposed by the look in his eye.
“You are keeping something from me.” She frowned, trying to keep the accusatory tone from her lips. Kazaar avoided her gazeas he buckled the straps on his leathers and adjusted the fit of the Sword of Sonos on his back. “You said I could trust you, Kazaar.”
Sighing, he closed his eyes and crossed over to her, gently tilting her chin.
“You can trust me, angel, but there are some things I am not ready to face myself yet, let alone share with someone who has only just begun to look at me with such endearment.” Elisara’s heart softened, though the wish to know the meaning behind the inking remained. He traced his thumb over her lip, reminding her of where those hands had been.
“At least bathe before we leave.” She rolled her eyes and made to stand, but he pushed her shoulder gently, forcing her to sit. Leaning down, Kazaar kissed her cheek before whispering, “I think I would rather have the reminder on my skin that you aremine.”
***
“That’s not eerie at all,” Kazaar muttered to Vlad as Elisara approached the shore. A soft fog drifted in the frigid morning air as the sunrise peeked over the tree line, highlighting the distant watchtowers on both Vala and Nerida’s borders. The black of Kazaar’s leathers was stark against the frost, while the pale Vala blue of Vlad’s uniform seemed at home amongst the frozen colours. Elisara smiled at her commander and her captain, appearing to share a friendly moment.
“Try it,” Vlad said. Elisara’s feet crunched on the frost before she jostled the pebbles that lined the shore. Kazaar’s head tilted at the sound before he offered Vlad his hand. Vlad’s pale, gloveless hands dropped a smooth, flat stone into his palm. “You need to get a low angle on it.”
“I have skipped stones before,” Kazaar grunted as he twisted his body. “Water does exist in Keres.” As Kazaar turned, Elisara caught the glint in his eye as the sunrise bathed him: playful, relaxed, andcomfortable.
“Yes, but Vlad has always been thebeststone skipper,” Elisara emphasised, laughing at their childish behaviour. Kazaar smirked, and she rolled her eyes, knowing this had quickly become some kind of competition between them. Crossing her arms, she inclined her head as he watched her from the corner of his eye, silently telling him to throw the stone. He leaned back and, in one fluid moment, propelled the flat stone across the sparkling ice that trapped the waters below on Vala’s side of the Vellius sea.
An eerie, high-pitched frequency echoed across the surface, a sound that mesmerised Elisara. It was an unexplained spectacle to watch a stone skip across ice and hear the haunting echo that followed, as though it called out to someone—somewhere—waiting for an answer.
“I’m certain I sent that all the way to Nerida’s border,” Kazaar said, and Vlad scoffed. Halfway across the glistening lake, the ice thinned where it met Nerida’s dark waters, forming its border. The high-pitched sound skated across the lake again as Vlad threw a stone towards it.
“Perhaps those are the odd sounds the guards in the towers have heard,” said one of Vlad’s men, leaving the tents. “Children from Vojta skipping stones.” Elisara held in a laugh at the embarrassed look shared between Kazaar and Vlad.
