Page 82 of Legacy of the Heirs
“How was I supposed to tell them?” Wren snapped. Caellum’s brothers shared panicked looks, and Aurelia shifted in her chair, pulling Eve closer.
“The same way we all did!” Razik yelled. Eve began to cry and covered her ears while Aurelia hummed into her neck.
“They are my children!” Wren shouted. “I cannot do this; we cannot do this.” He tried to rise, yet Razik held his shoulders down.
“Perhaps you should have treated them as such while you were all still alive!”
“We cannot—I cannot!” Wren struggled against Razik. Edlen cried now, too, and then Nile, their sobs muffled in the clothing of the person holding them.
Razik struck a match, his power inhibited in the city. He reached to the table where dust lay before them all and dropped the match. It burned brighter as Wren shouted expletives, and when Razik pulled away, the last of the dust ignited. He took the seat to his right, the chair where Nyzaia now sat.
“Papa!” Eve cried, and it was the last word Nyzaia heard before the image in front of them exploded.
Chapter Forty-Five
Elisara
Numbness permeated Elisara’s body as she stared at the empty spot on the cracked table before her. She heard none of the discussions, recalling only memories of her sisters’ behaviour before leaving the castle that day. They had known. She did not feel Kazaar squeeze her shoulders while the image of her mother with another man invaded her mind, nor did she notice the tears sliding down Caellum’s cheeks. Instead, Elisara realised her father knew about all of it, even her mother’s affair. Yet, through it all, he maintained a happy front for his daughters. It was not enough that Elisara must carry the pain of finding her family’s dead bodies, but now her nightmares were filled with the vision of their deaths.
“How did that help?” Elisara murmured. Nobody turned to her as they continued speaking, the ringing in her ears muddling their words. “How?” she asked again, but louder this time. Kazaar rubbed her shoulder as raw anger crawled through her. Looking up, more tears fell as her eyes met Vala’s, who stood across from her. The goddess showed no love or sympathy for one of her many children. Vala smirked.
“How did that help ANY OF US?” Elisara screamed. Ice crept up the walls, and the only sound was the breathing of those who lived, their breaths rising like smoke. They all looked at her, the gods included. “All you have done is confirm what we already knew.” She rose, resting her hands against the table. Ice spread from her fingers. Vala’s smirk remained, and her hair floated around her while she hovered midair. “The prophecy states you could help us, so tell me: how onearthdid that help?” Theice on the table cracked as Elisara smashed her fists against it.
“Control your whore, Night Child,” Vala hissed, her eyes hovering above Elisara’s crown to where Kazaar stood. Nerida watched her sibling, her lips pursed. Elisara felt flames at her back.
“What did you call her?” Kazaar kept his voice low, yet fire danced behind Elisara like a blanket before reaching across the table.
“You have sullied my bloodline,” Vala hissed. “Is it not his scent I smell on your skin and his darkness I taste in the air surrounding you?”
In a blink, Vala froze Kazaar’s flames.
“Vala, calm yourself,” Keres scolded.
“Calm myself?” She stalked around the room, her image flickering.
“You know the rules,” warned Nerida, her voice cracking.
“Rules mean nothing if she has been tainted.” Vala crossed the table and knelt before Elisara. Her image flickered again.
“You are saying too much,” Garridon said, his accent rough.
“They will lose us if you continue,” Keres finished. Vala leaned forward, meeting Elisara’s eyes.
“It is not he who has tainted us; it is you,” Elisara sneered and tugged her dress aside, revealing the mark of the crescent moon on her collarbone—a celestial tie gifted by the gods themselves. Vala stumbled back, her eyes wide as Elisara quickly covered the mark. Vala looked at each of her siblings, their faces mirroring her shock. The goddess closed her mouth and retreated.
“Queen Elisara means no disrespect,” Larelle said.
“I definitely do,” Elisara mumbled, the anger still burning in her veins. The goddess had called her a whore and Kazaar a night child, confirming his fears that he had tainted Elisara with his darkness. Yet they were missing something. The gods’ reaction was not what Elisara expected. It was as if they knew nothing of the tie.
“But she is right,” Larelle said. “This does not help us. We already knew much of this.” The other rulers mumbled their agreement.
“We need to know what to expect and how to defeat the creatures should they return in hoards,” Nyzaia addressed her god. It was a smart move, addressing the god known for war.
“Creatures of darkness—”
“Wings of night—”
“Not what it seems—”
