Page 97 of Legacy of the Heirs
“Is it true?” Soren’s voice was fierce as she entered, closing the doors behind her. She took a place next to Sadira, her polar opposite. Sadira wore a flowing peach gown, while Soren donned her Garridon armour despite the Keres heat. Nyzaia reached for the envelope to her left, held under a goblet of wine, and raised it to show the others a ripped, black ink seal. Nobody spoke as Nyzaia tore it open. Kazaar moved to Elisara’s side, who wrapped an arm around him.
“It will be okay,” she whispered, and Larelle frowned. Why was the commander so worried? Nyzaia scanned her eyes around the room before reading the letter’s contents.
“Rulers of the Lost Kingdom of Novisia,
I do not ask for much in return for our vacancy from your watersand lands. There is no reason for a war among us or for innocent lives to be lost. I want one thing and one thing alone: the Descendant of Chaos, the essence of Sitara. Bring me Kazaar Elharar by sunrise in three days, and the loyal servants shall spill no blood. If I do not receive your confirmation, I allow you these three days to evacuate Myara. Civilians need not be harmed. If you do not abide, I will meet you on the sands of Keres.
General Caligh.
Larelle’s head spun to Kazaar, mirroring the others in the room. Elisara’s arm rested on his back while the other rested on the pommel of her sword, ready to defend him if needed.Descendant of Chaos, the essence of Sitara.Larelle exhaled, yet her instincts told her to wait and listen to Kazaar before making a plan. Another part of her whispered that handing Kazaar over would be a quick end to an avoidable war, but she flinched for even considering it.
“Did you—”
“Know?” Kazaar cut off Alvan from where he had moved closer to Larelle. Kazaar’s tone was tense and matched his posture. “Of course not.” He met each person’s eye.Is this what the Historian meant?Perhaps darkness could indeed exist within the blood of one created from Sitara, even if it never fully manifested. The Historian had told them of Sitara and the story of her creation. She was created from the essence of Chaos, the creator and mother from which the Goddess Nerida descended. Sitara was the Goddess of Dusk, the opposite of Sonos, despite falling in love with him.
“But Sitara only used her essence to create the gods,” Sadira said, holding onto Caellum’s arm. “Does that mean you are a…”
Kazaar scoffed. “I am no god,” he said firmly, and Larelle remained silent, turning over everything in the letter. If what Caligh claimed was true, then Kazaar was.
“Caligh is a general,” Larelle finally said. “He could report to someone else. The creature that arrived when I was taken was a general, too; they could be from different ranks from different places.” Larelle looked to Nyzaia, who led the military plans, yetthe Keres queen was transfixed on the letter, the one that confirmed more than ever that Kazaar was not her brother by blood. From what Kazaar had told them so far, neither he nor Elisara had unlocked any other power, and there was every chance being a descendant of Chaos meant nothing but a terrifying title. But if it did mean something, what would it take to unleash such power? And could it plunge their kingdom into darkness? Silence resumed. Larelle scanned the map. In three days, they could move the people of Myara to Khami, assuming the general kept his promise.
“You are all asking the wrong questions,” Soren said, resting her hands on the map. “The only question we should ask is which one of us takes Kazaar to Myara.”
Soren choked for air, and her hands froze to the table to keep her from reaching for her throat. Nobody moved. Sadira stayed beside Caellum and kept her head high as her sister gasped for breath. Nyzaia still stood with her head down, with Farid observing her. Alvan reached for Larelle’s hand, looping his fingers in hers. Nobody would challenge Elisara over Kazaar, and Larelle would definitely not turn over a man for his presumed lineage. Elisara had not moved but narrowed her eyes in Soren’s direction.
“It’s okay, angel,” Kazaar murmured when Soren’s face began to turn purple. “Elisara,” he said more firmly. Soren gasped as the ice melted and reached for her throat, coughing. Larelle was a sympathetic person, though she held no sympathy for Soren after suggesting taking Elisara’s love from her. She would sentence no one to that. The largest of Soren’s wolves prowled towards Elisara and bared its teeth while the other five huddled around Soren’s feet.
“You all stand by him?” Soren spluttered. “You all condone the killing of soldiers for the sake of one man?” She pointed at each of them, and Larelle winced.
“We must be strategic,” Nyzaia finally said, looking at her brother. “The Lost Kingdom… It would appear we are not the only lands who know of other threats out there, threats that someone with the potential power of Sitara could save us from.”
Kazaar glanced away; Larelle did not think he thought himself a saviour.
“We hand him over, and we may never hear from any of them,” Soren argued.
“And what if we do, and he returns one day wanting more?” Nyzaia fought back.
“What more would he want? He has stated Kazaar!” Soren slammed her fist on the map, and Elisara’s eyes widened, moving from being cast down at the table to up at Kazaar.
“Me,” Elisara said, no louder than a whisper. “He could come back for me.”
Larelle frowned, unsure of Elisara’s point. She gripped Kazaar’s hands in her own, looking only at him. “I wear a mark of Sitara—the moon on my skin as a symbol of my tie to you. If you are created from Sitara herself, then the darkness that surrounds us—the darkness Vala claims tainted me—is hers. Sitara’s.” Kazaar frowned. “You wear a mark of Sonos.” Elisara placed her hand on Kazaar’s collarbone. “Your darkness never appears without threads of light.”
“Your light,” he whispered. Larelle covered her mouth. When Kazaar placed his palm to her mark, their eyes changed, wisps of black and white dancing in their souls.
“With those of white and those of black,” Sadira murmured.
“The spirit of the first makes their way back,” Caellum continued.
Sonos and Sitara: the first created gods.
“When light meets dark in the rarest of times,” said Nyzaia.
“The power to awaken that of old lore,” Caellum continued.The creatures,Larelle realised,and Kazaar’s presumed power.
“Lies in the soul of those with all four,” Sadira finished.
Kazaar is the one with all four, and Elisara, by extension, if she ever learns to wield them.
