Page 98 of Legacy of the Heirs
“But we still do not know who the one with all four is or what itmeans,” Sadira said. Larelle and Kazaar shared a look, and she gave him a reassuring nod.
“I can wield all four,” he confirmed. Nobody questioned him, but shock etched their faces.
“Only together can they defeat and restore,” said Nyzaia. “The prophecy is about the two of you.”But restore what?Kazaar and Elisara dropped their hands from their collarbones, their eyes returning to normal as they peered around the room.
“Watch for the dark one that will bring suffering to all,” Larelle said. “This man, Caligh. If he controls the creatures, then it is him.” She looked at Alvan, who squeezed her hand in agreement. Soren spun from the room and slammed the doors closed behind her, leaving the room in stunned silence. They had finally deciphered the prophecy.
All that was left to help them win were the swords. Larelle looked at Sadira.
With shaking hands, she pulled the dagger from the side of Caellum’s leg. It hummed, a light glow emitting from it. Larelle glanced to where a similar hum resonated from Kazaar and Elisara.The Sword of Sonos.
“I know how to create more weapons,” Sadira confirmed.
***
“Mumma!” Zarya’s high-pitched squeal sounded from the doors to their chambers as Larelle and Alvan approached. She did not have a chance to return the greeting as her daughter charged into her legs. Larelle’s hands tangled in her dark curls as Olden appeared in the doorway, holding a brush.
“I think grandpa needs to finish brushing your hair!” Larelle exclaimed, pulling Zarya’s matted curls aside. Zarya looked up at her with her father’s midnight blue eyes, giggling.
“We’re playing a game!” Zarya held onto her mother’s robe andturned to look at Olden. Larelle did not believe that for a second.
“I am uncertain running around saying, ‘you can’t catch me’ is a game I agreed to,” Olden exclaimed from the doorway. He pushed the second door open to allow Larelle and Alvan entry. She gave Olden an apologetic look and ushered Zarya in.
“I don’t know, Olden. It sounds like a fantastic game to me.” Alvan bent down and grabbed Zarya’s middle, throwing her over his shoulder. She squealed with laughter. “And it looks like I just won!”
Larelle rolled her eyes but smiled at their closeness, particularly after their travels from Mera to Tabheri.
“Do not encourage her!” Larelle scolded, slapping Alvan’s arm as she collected the tray of wine and goblets left by the servants on the side table and carried it to the balcony.
“Mumma!” Zarya shouted, hanging upside down over Alvan’s shoulder. “You should not hit people!” In three long strides, Alvan reached the large pillows on the balcony and lowered Zarya onto them.
“And you”—He pointed at the little girl, who grinned from ear to ear— “should not give your grandpa so much grief.” Larelle hummed in agreement and sat down on the small bench opposite the pillows.
“What is grief?” Zarya asked, and the three adults paused, unsure of how to answer. Moments like this reminded Larelle that her daughter was growing, and with that growth would come more questions about life and her place within it. How could Larelle summarise grief? The constant ache in your chest at the simplest reminder of those you have lost? The pain when you realise you have gone an entire day without thinking of them? Because grieving grief made you drown in guilt instead.
“I think that is a story for the morning when Mumma is not so tired,” Larelle said. Zarya seemed content with that answer and tipped out a bag of shells Olden gave her.
“On the topic of being tired,” Olden chuckled. “I am going to liedown for a bit.” Larelle reached for his hand and squeezed gently, mouthing ‘thank you’ as he left.
Larelle accepted the goblet of wine Alvan passed to her, from where he sat beside her on the bench. When he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, Larelle leaned into him. He gently kissed her head.
“Do you think children can tell when things are off?” she asked, watching Zarya arrange shells on the balcony floor. The palm trees of the royal gardens swayed in the distance behind Zarya as Alvan sat down next to Larelle on the bench and leaned against the wall behind them.
“Children? No,” Alvan said, taking a sip. “Zarya? Probably. In the time I have known her, I have discovered she has a mature awareness of others.”
Larelle hummed in agreement. “What do I tell her? When we leave?”
“Whatever you think is right for her to hear. Regardless, Olden will take good care of her.” Larelle kept telling herself that.
The group made the simple decision not to hand over Kazaar. Through her connections, Nyzaia had enlisted the Red Stones to manage the movement of citizens in Myara to Khami; the evacuation would begin by nightfall. On day two, Larelle, the rulers, and their closest confidants would move to the military camps at the edge of the Ashun desert. They would meet the general and his army on the sands of Keres at sunrise on day three. In three days, she may no longer be here.
Larelle revisited the last moment she believed she would die.We will meet again one day,Osiris had said. Larelle hoped to find him on the battlefield so she could pierce a sword through his chest for keeping her from her daughter. Zarya picked up the shells and shook them in her hands before throwing them across the tiles. Larelle chuckled to herself as Zarya watched them all, as if confused as to why she had thrown them.
“Do your family have a history of family names in Nerida?”Larelle asked.
“An odd question,” laughed Alvan. Zarya picked up the shells again and threw them once more.
“When I was taken. The creature, Osiris, said Zerpane was an old name. Olden once mentioned they had strong connections to the royal family. It is why Zarya’s eyes are so dark and why her father could wield.”
