Page 63 of Return of the Darkness
“I am happy with Alvan,” Larelle said. “He makes me feel safe and desired. He is a wonderful father figure to Zarya, but—”
“He is not her father,” Nerida concluded. Larelle avoided Nerida’s stare, refusing to confront the truth. The guilt of not acknowledging the truth while also thinking of Riyas was overwhelming. “Do you love him?” Nerida asked, and Larelle’s smile answered the question. “Then what is wrong?”
“I am happy with Alvan, but in the rare moments we’re not together, I find myself thinking of all the different ways my life might have turned out had Riyas not died, if I had never become close with Alvan because Riyas was there to help me navigate becoming queen.” Larelle took a breath, trying not to cry. Gently, Nerida held Larelle’s chin, turning her head to face her.
“May I show you something?” she asked. When Larelle nodded, Nerida moved her palms to the side of Larelle’s head. She sobbed.
Riyas roared with laughter and slammed his drink on the table, the ale spilling over the edge and coating the cards on the table. Even though the man beside him scolded his raucousness, the others continued laughing with Riyas as he scraped a pile of coins towards hisgrowing collection. His muscles were more defined, and his hair was longer; he moved with the assurance of a man who was respected, far different from the sailor working his way up the ranks.
“I told you I’d beat you with ease,” he chuckled, his midnight blue eyes twinkling under the dim light of the tavern. The man who scolded him scowled, focusing on the pile of gold coins being scraped into a sack. “Right, boys, I’ll see you by the docks at sunrise.” Riyas grinned, clapping the men on the shoulders as they all complained and yelled for him to stay. The white stone streets were painted in the glow of sunset as he left the establishment and took a right towards the alleyway. Stumbling, he dropped his bag of coins and swore, bending to scoop them up. A swift kick met his stomach, knocking his dark hair loose from its band as he toppled over, smacking his head against the smooth white streets. He looked up at the disgruntled man from the card table, his eyes glazed. Riyas waved a hand, as if to summon some power, but the man stamped hard onto his fingers with a resounding crunch before plunging a knife into his stomach. He did not get up but lay in the white alleyway, his eyes drifting open and shut in a pool of his own blood while the man scooped up the coins and left him for dead.
“What are you doing?” Larelle cried, trying to snatch Nerida’s hand from her head, but the goddess lifted the other and held her temple tight.
Riyas winked at the brunette, handing him a glass of amber liquid. Her lavender gown was far more modest than the other women in the establishment, which only had the other men fantasising about her more.
“Can’t sleep?” she asked. Riyas’s eyes darkened. “Alright, alright, I won’t ask.” She curled a finger in the direction of the two women, beckoning them over.
“You promised you’d stop asking,” Riyas said, barely glancing at the ladies as the redhead took his hand while the blonde led him towards the curtained wall.
“And you promised you’d help me get answers,but here we are.” The brunette offered a sarcastic smile as she waved him away. Riyas ducked into one of many carved away alcoves, where the flaming sconces dimmed, casting a tantalising glow over the two women undressing before him.
“Stop!” Larelle screamed, shoving Nerida away as tears spilled down her cheeks. She regretted it immediately, having laid her hands on a goddess, but only pity resided in Nerida’s eyes. “What was that?” Larelle pulled her legs up under her chin.
“Other paths and possibilities that could have been,” Nerida sighed. “There are plenty of what ifs in this world, Larelle. Those were two what ifs. Even if he was here, it does not mean he would be with you. Perhaps Alvan was always your destiny.”
***
Larelle was silent, allowing Nerida’s power to push them through the waters and return them to the Vellius Sea. A numbness settled in Larelle’s bones after what she had been forced to witness. Nerida silently followed her to shore and waited at the water’s edge. With a wave of her hand, she pulled the water from Larelle’s hair and clothing as she looked for Alvan and Zarya, expecting to find them at the water’s edge, playing. But Alvan sat on the floor beneath Olden, holding Zarya in his arms. Her body trembled as she cried.
“What’s wrong?” Larelle asked, approaching. Alvan shook his head as Zarya remained buried in his arms, crying.
“I’m sorry,” Alvan said. Larelle looked up at the rock Olden slept on upright. His chest did not rise and fall. His mouth hung slightly open, and his shoulders were slumped.
“No,” Larelle sobbed, rushing forward and reaching for his hand. He had been fine, smiling and speaking with Nerida only recently. But as Larelle held his hand, it felt cold. Her fingers trembled as she shifted them to his wrist, searching for a pulse. The man who had been her father for the last five years was gone. “What didyou do?” She whirled towards Nerida. “He was fine, but then you touched him and now he’s dead!” Larelle yelled. Power rumbled in her core, aching to break free at the goddess, but she could not pull it forward. Something was holding her power down.
“He was not fine,” Nerida said, her tone firm. “He has wanted to go for some time but was holding on for you and Zarya.”
“What did you show him?” Larelle snapped, recalling how she held Olden’s temple like she had held hers. Her goddess must have realised the pain she had caused as it manifested in the tears streaming down Larelle’s cheeks.
“I showed him something he needed to know to be at peace.” Those were Nerida’s final words as she dived back into the water. Larelle spun back to Olden, reaching for his hand again. She would not be able to take him with her or cast him into the ocean as he deserved. But above all, what pained Larelle the most was not being able to say goodbye for the second time in her life.
Chapter Forty-One
Elisara
Elisara had stared up at the colourless sky for hours, relishing the peace and quiet. She was in a variation of Vala, it seemed. After entering the mirror, she had opened her eyes to gaze across the mountains, where one of the few rivers in Vala flowed below. At her right was Tisova in the distance. If she turned and trekked through the snowy mountains, she would eventually reach the Neutral City. That was likely where the other rulers would head, yet as Elisara was not far, she chose to relish the time alone, surrounded by nothing but silence. She lay in the snow and stared at the sky. The biting cold snow soothed her aching back, relieving the pain that was resurfacing as the effects of Vigor’s stalactite water faded.
Hours had passed while lying there. Even though the colour was drained from this world, she could still differentiate when the sun became the moon and the stars began to appear. She supposed this was her natural habitat now as Sitara’s essence, staring at the darkness of the sky, surrounded by night. While Sitara had not formed Elisara from her essence, she planted some of the goddess inside her. Did that mean Elisara was a goddess of dusk too? Or goddess of darkness? Elisara scoffed. She did not feel like a goddess, even if a piece of one lay inside her arm. With a sigh, she contemplated finally standing and walking to the city, but there was something so peaceful about the moon. While she owed her life to the rulers, her friends, and was grateful for their company, she preferred the peace and quiet of being alone. It was the only time she could think about Kazaar; even dreaming did not summon him when her mindwas preoccupied with people she did not know and conversations with Sallos.
Was Sallos here somewhere? Or had his shadowed form prevented him from crossing through? She could not feel her shadows, darkness, or the elements. She knew they were there but could not draw on them. For a minute, she felt relieved in its absence. After all, it had summoned Caligh and started a war.
“I didn’t know,” a clipped voice said from Elisara’s right. Elisara turned her head, unsure of whom to expect, though Vala was the last person she expected to see—the goddess of her realm. Peering down at Elisara, Vala’s long white hair burned bright beneath the moonlight. Elisara did not know what she referenced, nor did she care what the goddess had to say after her treatment of Elisara and Kazaar in the temple. Lifting her head, Elisara watched the stars and hoped if she stared long enough, Vala would get the message and disappear.You are his star.Some of her mother’s last words rang through her mind, words she now knew were first spoken by Sitara. Though Elisara was no star. How could she to be the light in someone’s darkness when her own had been snuffed out?
The snow shifted beside her as Vala lay down and glanced briefly at her descendent. Her grey gown was far more ornate than their last encounter. A woven pattern of feathers and swirls in silver thread coated the skirts, and a white fur cloak hung over her shoulders. Had the snow not been tinged yellow, the two would have blended well. The goddess rested her hands on her stomach and looked up at the stars with Elisara.
“I used to love the night,” Vala said. Elisara refrained from sighing at the interrupted peace and quiet. “I took after my mother in that way and many others—stubborn, strong, obsessive when I care, torn between being pragmatic and being free, as light as a feather. But from my father…” Vala’s voice changed, the pride in her voice fading to sadness. Elisara realised it was not just Sitara who had lost her loved one; her children had lost their father. Elisara swallowed at the all-too-familiar loss. “From him, I get my humour.” Elisara scoffed, sparing a glance at Vala, who smiled. “See, that was funny.” Elisara pursed her lips and turned back to the stars. “Truthfully, I get my father’s sense of protection, ensuring what is mine remains safe.” Vala paused. “I have failed you there.”
“I’m not really yours though, am I? So, it does not really matter,” Elisara said, referencing the unspoken knowledge of Sitara’s essence.
