ARAH
Gildeon was finally here. Her heart thudded wildly in her chest—a chaotic mix of joy at his arrival and relief at escaping the harrowing void. She felt as though she’d been reborn—only for a wave of dread to crash over her at the thought of how close she had likely come to death mere seconds ago.
“Lokius, come with me,” Drusden commanded, a crazed smile spreading across his lips. His lack of concern set Arah on edge. “We’ll handle the salamander. You two,” he said, gesturing to Vienna and Alaunus, “stay here. The gate has been opened. Continue the ritual.”
Arah’s gaze flicked to the hovering fog spiral. Was that what he meant by the gate? It had tried to lure her in and shatter her sanity. Did this mean she was still compromised?
Drusden brushed the back of his hand against the side of her face. She whimpered, shrinking away from his touch.
Smirking, Drusden sai
ARAHNick led her into a chamber with white brick walls, each one painted with intricate sigils. Overhead, constellations were etched into the ceiling, glowing softly like they were alive. The floor was an illusion—one moment it felt like walking on a sea of clouds, the next like floating above a void of endless darkness.It didn’t unsettle her much as she was used to heights. Floating came naturally to her, a reflex buried deep in her sylph nature. Still, she had to admit it was eerie. And she’d be lying if she said it didn’t give her goosebumps.Ahead, women stood silently on either side of what looked like an aisle down the center of the room. She counted seven on each side. They wore long white cloaks, their sleek white hair braided neatly down their backs. Pale blue eyes peeked out from behind white veils that covered the upper halves of their faces.They looked just like the veiled women who had shown young A
ARAHBy this time, Father had been promoted to general. And it meant Araheen was now the daughter of the most powerful figure in sylph society. This didn’t surprise Arah, for Father had always carried a commanding presence. Authority clung to him like armor.What she didn’t expect… was to see herself included in a high-level military council. She wasn’t really at the center of the discussion. She was merely standing at the back, alongside other sylphs around her age, all of whom likely held important positions as well.Still, it was a striking contrast to the days when Young Araheen had to hide behind walls just to eavesdrop on conversations like these.“The poison mist we released in the eastern region failed to deliver its intended result,” said Lord Erminius, seated beside her father. “The salamanders seem to have developed an even greater resistance.”“At this rate, the weapon we’ve invested years into will become obsolete,” an
ARAHYoung Araheen screamed. The sound tore from her throat like it had clawed through every cell of her body. She collapsed to her knees, hands trembling, mouth frozen in a silent wail of horror.Arah wept with her. It didn’t matter that she was only witnessing a memory. The grief struck like a physical blow. Her heart felt crushed, again and again, as though something inside her chest had turned to glass and shattered.She wanted to look away. But she couldn’t.The corpses before Young Araheen were barely recognizable, grotesque echoes of the people she loved. Siegfrid’s chest was torn open, ribs shattered and twisted like splintered wood. Whip marks and deep lash wounds striped his arms and legs—some still raw, others blackened with rot.Irmeena’s face was deformed, swollen, the bone shattered beneath bruised skin. Parts of her body were scorched; burnt flesh curled and cracked around deep claw marks gouged into her legs and sid
ARAHShe was pulled into another memory. This time, she was merely a passenger, riding alongside the consciousness of her younger self.Young Araheen’s eyes fluttered open to a blur of shifting trees and rolling land. The world bounced and swayed. She smelled the coarse, familiar scent of horsehair. Beneath her, the rhythmic thunder of hooves beat fast against the earth. They were moving quickly, fleeing, perhaps, from someone or something.She was seated in front of the rider. Her small back was nestled against a woman’s chest, the curve of her breasts cushioning the sharp jostle of the ride. Strands of fiery red hair brushed against her cheeks. The woman smelled of herbs, smoke, and something sweet and unfamiliar—like wild honey mixed with ash.Young Araheen tilted her head back, struggling to see the rider. A stunning woman looked down at her with eyes the color of a fading sunset.“What did you do to me?” she blurted out, panic
ARAHIn the blink of an eye, she was back as her present self. She stood in a dimly lit chamber, the walls and floor etched with countless sigils she didn’t recognize. The only source of light came from an old-style fire basin. Flames flickered upward in a cone, casting shadows around a circular stone platform in the center of the room.There, sitting on her heels in the heart of that platform, was the younger version of herself.Zephyr stood before her.Arah stepped quietly to the side for a clearer view. Young Araheen wore a black cloak, and the matching scarf had slipped loosely around her shoulders. Even though she was only watching a memory, Arah could still feel every sensation, every emotion pulsing through her younger self.Young Araheen was scared, but at the same time, she trusted Zephyr. There were still doubts—unspoken hesitations tangled in her gut—but maybe it was innocence... or blind hope that made her believe she c
Many Years Ago (Part 5)YOUNG ARAHEENShe didn’t know how much time had passed. Her thoughts had been wandering ever since the incident with the male sylph. Beside her, the girl had dozed off, her head resting lightly on Araheen’s lap.She had told Araheen her name: Hedda.Araheen stroked Hedda’s long, blue hair. She felt sorry for her. This girl had been locked away, bound to a servant’s life, never seeing violence or death beyond her household walls. Araheen couldn’t imagine such a life. Fortunate as she was, she had already witnessed much at a young age. At least she was prepared.“Wake her,” the boatman said. “We’ve arrived.”Araheen nudged Hedda gently. She groaned, then stirred awake, sitting up slowly.The boat slowed as the boatman moored the vessel against a weathered wooden wharf. Araheen rubbed her eyes, squinting through the mist.“I don’t see an island,” she murmured. But