Page 81 of Legacy of the Heirs
“I had my study overlooking the mountains designed like this,” Vespera murmured, pulling a loose thread from the chair. Razik tilted his head. “Exactly like this.” She cleared her throat and looked away to hide the tears. Razik stepped towards her with urgency.
“Why?” He reached to touch her but withdrew when Vespera turned to face him.
“So I could pretend I was with you,” she trailed off, peering out the windows where her study sat on the other side of the mountains. “To remind myself of our last moments together on the day you showed me this room.” Vespera glanced down at herhand on the armchair as Razik rested his hand beside it. She took a deep breath before stepping away from him.
“I received your letter,” she finally said. “Do you believe this prophecy the courtesan told you?” Razik nodded, and the memory warped again.
Nyzaia wanted to scream at the gods to stop and slow the memories, allowing them to see and hear every detail—every piece of information.
“We cannot give you everything on a platter.” Nyzaia’s head turned to Keres, his voice ringing in her mind. He sounded like her father.
“You are certain no one saw you?” Razik’s voice sounded again, returning her attention to the past.
“Positive,” said Adrianus, the king of Nerida. He stared in disgust at the large, dead creature at his feet. “It was dead when we found it.”
King Wren and his wife Hestia shared a look before frowning at the creature.
“Return of the darkness,” Vespera murmured opposite Razik. King Arion gripped her hand, and Nyzaia listened as Vespera and Razik explained the prophecy to the rulers for the first time.
“The last of the lines,” said Arion. “Does that mean what I believe it does? Only one remaining of each lineage should remain?”
Razik and Vespera nodded solemnly.
“Sacrifice?” asked King Wren of Garridon, rubbing his face. Nobody spoke, all looking to Razik and Vespera for answers. Vespera gently nodded.
“Us,” Razik said. “All of us.”
“How can we be certain of following through with this?” asked King Wren, clasping his hands together. He rested them in front of his mouth and leaned forward on the table, watching Razik with eyes that did not hold the anger he was famed for.
“Too much of it is linked. This creature confirms the return of what took Ithyion. We cannot choose our lives over the risk oflosing the entire kingdom.”
“The last of my line isn’t even born yet,” said Wren. “Hestia is only three months gone.” He swallowed hard, and the other rulers shared a look.
“You are not the true Garridon line,” said Vespera. “We are working on the assumption any of your children could remain.”
Wren nodded and said, “Caellum. He will stand the best chance.”
Nyzaia raised her eyebrows, matching Caellum’s surprise as Sadira reached for his hand.
“The gods. You said the gods could help us,” Adrianus said, grasping his wife’s hand. “We must try that first.”
A flood of memories flashed quickly then: Razik and Vespera huddled over books, writing and researching, the seasons changing outside the king’s study windows. At least five years passed until finally an image of Vespera on the Unsanctioned Isle appeared, attempting to withdraw a sword before her frustrated cry changed to loud chatter in the temple.
Their parents sat around the stone table, no crack on show, crowded by the rest of their families.
“The corridors need checking to be certain if the reports are correct,” said Razik to the Historian, who shuffled towards the door and closed it behind him to check the corridor. Nyzaia knew what happened next. They had failed to contact the gods.
“Ready?” asked Vespera. Arion patted her hand as Razik sprinkled black dust around the room and on the table.
“Papa, what is happening?” whispered a quiet voice from the side of the room. One of Caellum’s sisters sat on the eldest’s lap, and Nyzaia wished she could look away at what she knew was coming. Wren scrunched his face and avoided looking at his daughter.
“Nothing, Eve. Sit still with Edlen and Aurelia.”
“Father, what is happening?” Dalton asked. Vespera narrowed her eyes at King Wren.
“You did not prepare any of them?” she sneered.
Nyzaia’s brothers braced their arms around one another, with Elisara’s sisters following suit and bowing their heads. Larelle’s brother and his wife bounced their son on their knees as they huddled close and cried together.They knew. They all knew, except—
