Page 57 of Return of the Darkness
“It’s like a mirror,” Nyzaia murmured, squinting at the snow-capped mountains in the distance. Had Elisara emerged there, alone?
“A reverse, a reflection, a sister, a mirror,” Farid murmured, the lines Osiris had recited.
“Find the truth beneath you and all will be clearer,” Nyzaia continued. “So, has this been here all along? This… I don’t even know what to call it.”
“Bound,” Farid said, perplexed. “Listen to the land and understand you are bound.”
“So, this place is somehow bound to Novisia?” Nyzaia contemplated, her eyes turning to the oasis and recalling how only a week ago she sat by the water’s edge to remember Kazaar’s life. The realm around her felt as dead as him.
“Or are we bound to this existence?” Farid murmured. Nyzaia tried to understand the implications of where they were and whatthey should do when movement stirred in the distance. She focused her eyes to track the movement. Someone with dark hair and deep-red clothing walked from around the palm trees and sat by the water’s edge. The man moved his hands back and forth, but from here, she could not identify him.
“Why don’t we ask him?” Nyzaia suggested, tilting her head in his direction. Farid followed her eyeline and nodded before turning. The valley’s high rock walls meant they had to backtrack, climb down, and circle around to the oasis. Usually, during missions through the canyons or the valley, dust from the dry paths would blow up in her face, but Nyzaia quickly noticed the lack of wind and stagnant air as the dust lined her boots rather than her leathers. Farid and Nyzaia walked in comfortable silence until Farid finally broke it.
“I like the sash addition,” he said, eyeing the red gauze pinned to her upper half. “Why did you decide to add it?”
Nyzaia shrugged, yet the reminder of her near-death flashed before her eyes—the pain she felt while powerless. “I don’t know… After what happened in the tavern with Israar, I realised if I hadn’t survived that night, the realm would have no queen—no one to lead them, no symbol of Keres. I’ve never really cared about being queen before, but in the face of death, it made me question if I should start taking my duty more seriously.”
“So, it’s a symbol?” Farid asked.
“I suppose so. It’s like this uncomfortable crown. I think I just realised…” Nyzaia kicked the sand at her feet. “Maybe I do care about being queen and protecting the people. I can’t keep ignoring the fact I am.”
“So, wearing the red and the crown is a sign of your acceptance—daily acknowledgement?” Farid asked with a small smile. Nyzaia nodded. “What happens if you do die?”
“Gods, Farid! Talk about depressing conversation,” Nyzaia joked, but Farid remained silent, waiting. “You can have the crown.” She grinned and pushed aside the real possibility of death,and the lack of a plan in place if that occurred. She thought of Lord Israar. At least he could not try to take her throne if she was dead. For all she cared, the other lords could fight for it.
“Absolutely not.” Farid scoffed before falling silent again. A sheen of sweat beaded his forehead as they quickened their pace. “What if I die when you die? Could the tie do that?”
“I don’t think so; Elisara didn’t…” Nyzaia trailed off, not wishing to speak of Kazaar.
“I assumed that was because they had fulfilled their shared destiny. They were destined to draw out Caligh and go to war to fulfil the prophecy. Kazaar was destined to…” Farid paused, as though searching for the right words. “He was destined to benefit Caligh.”
“Perhaps whoever is at the oasis could answer that question. I sense this is not a place of normal existence,” Nyzaia said as they reached the final bend in the rocks and finally saw the oasis. The man sat at its edge, his hair reaching past his shoulders. “Couldn’t you have flown us down and saved us from doubling round?”
“It was the first thing I tried. I can’t draw my wings out here,” Farid said, a sad lilt entering his voice. Nyzaia hoped his gloom was because he finally recognised his wings as a beautiful part of himself, a part he could naturally call upon rather than hide away. Extending her hand, Nyzaia focused on channelling her power, but found she could not. Yet she still sensed her power flickering within her soul, unlike when she was drugged or weakened within the circle. Its presence provided some comfort, though, despite its disobedience. The conversations of death and ‘what ifs’ made Nyzaia’s mind spiral. Craving a distraction, she glanced at Farid and studied his face.
“I think you and Jabir would make fine kings.” Nyzaia waited for his reaction or a tell in his expression that confirmed her suspicions. His face remained neutral.
“Remember, I can sense your intentions. I can practically feel your laughter running through me,” Farid murmured.
“You didn’tanswer the question.”
“You didn’t ask a question.”
“Come on, Farid, you know what I meant.” Nyzaia elbowed his side, but he remained rigid until finally glancing sideways at her. When Nyzaia grinned, Farid relented. Light burned in his pale blue eyes.
“We just talk is all,” Farid said, his mouth twitching.
“I have quite literally never heard you say more than a few sentences to him.”
“If that’s so, why are you making assumptions?”
“You may have only said a few sentences, but I felt the tension in them,” Nyzaia laughed. “Why am I not privy to these conversations?”
“They are while you’re sleeping. We take shifts guarding your chambers at night. When we crossover, we talk for a bit.”
“What constitutes ‘a bit’?” Nyzaia was intrigued by Farid’s honesty, especially as her question about Jabir had coaxed it from him. Farid’s as his smile stretched into a wide, almost complete smile, for once.
“It started as brief comments and small talk when we changed over. Then, on one occasion, he bought me some food and ate with me while we were on guard. I don’t really know when it changed, but small talk slowly became an hour, and then two. Then we were nearly always outside your chambers and so would alternate our sleeping patterns during the day instead.” Farid appeared to realise how personal his remarks were and cleared his throat, refocusing on the approaching oasis.
