Page 65 of Return of the Darkness
“Time works differently on the Isle of Gods. You’ve been here much longer than you think.” Keres picked up his sword from where he left it by the water of the oasis and propped it against his shoulder as he walked. Flames, expertly crafted of gold, blazed from the handle and climbed up the first quarter of the blade—a symbol of his power. “Now, tell me what you need from me.” Nyzaia caught up to him and walked by his side, with Farid on her other.
“Why do you think we need something from you?” she asked.
“The mirror led you to me, so you must need something. The same way it sent the others to wherever their souls required answers to the thoughts in the back of their minds.”
“You’re rather straightforward compared to the bullshit-coded lines you gave us last time.” Nyzaia crossed her arms.
“Nyzaia,” Farid scolded. She should have known he would be traditional and respectful towards a god. Keres laughed.
“I suppose I passed on the same trait to you then.” Keres did not look at either of them as they walked. “I couldn’t speak freely on your lands because I am tied to this land—the true land. Pushing through to your existence takes a lot of effort, and we are notpermitted to reveal anything that might alter fate. Broken speech seemed the most effective way to stay for as long as possible and give you as much as we could—Nerida’s idea, obviously. She’s always been the most intelligent, or so she thinks.” Clearly, Keres seemed inclined to disagree. Nyzaia scoffed. Larelle seemed to inherit the same intelligence and natural leadership as her goddess. Nyzaia processed his admission; at least they weren’t infuriating for the sake of it, some fun for eternal beings.
“So, you gave us this?” Nyzaia asked, raising her palm. He did not look.
“I already told you that. Ask what you really want to know,” Keres sighed, clearly impatient.
“What is our shared destiny?” Farid asked.
“If I told you that, you could try to alter or change it.”
“So, what was the point of asking?” Nyzaia exclaimed, and Keres shrugged.
“It is expected of me to ask, but maybe that’s not why you were sent here,” Keres said, angling his sword before him to inspect it beneath the sunlight.
“I can’t say I have anything else to ask you,” Nyzaia said, rolling her eyes. “Maybe there’s another reason you’re here.” Keres finally looked at Farid, whose surprise was evident. His eyes widened as he looked at his queen. “Did you know Nefere Valley once had a river running through it?” Keres hummed. Nyzaia recalled overlooking the valley beside Exandria in her drug-induced dream; steam had risen from the valley, as if a great body of water had evaporated.
“What happened to it?” Nyzaia asked, her interest piqued.
“What is this, story time with my children?” Keres scoffed, and Nyzaia clenched her fists, wishing she could punch him. “What happened was the others tried to lock us away. They succeeded, the ungrateful bastards, though I’ll never know if it was because of Caligh’s input or their own greed.”
“Others?” Nyzaia asked, earning a glare from Keres.
“Do you want your story or not?” Nyzaia pursed her lips butallowed him to continue. “When they tried to lock us away here, a great battle began, drawing followers from all over. Imagine ignoring me to listen to those claiming to be better and more benevolent. Does that sound like a wise decision?” Nyzaia thought of Exandria and the peculiar way she controlled smoke and embers to shift her form. Could she have been one of those claiming to be better? A different god? One in league with Nefere?
“I don’t know. You’re the one apparently locked away here,” Nyzaia mumbled, and Farid elbowed her side.
“Nerida used the water in the valley's river to drown Nefere’s followers, twisting the water like ropes around them, suffocating and drowning them from within—she liked to alternate. Nefere thought himself more powerful and refused to watch anyone else die for his cause. He knelt, right there.” Keres pointed his sword back toward the oasis. “With his burning wings out for all to see. He dug his hands into the earth and scorched the land with blue flames, allowing his power and wings to consume him, embedding his flame into the ground and burning all the water in the process. Exerting his power killed Nefere, leaving nothing but a scorched mark on the ground.” Nyzaia’s eyes widened. It made sense why the cult worshipped Nefere; perhaps they descended from the people Nefere had sacrificed himself for. Not to mention, his wings definitely made him appear god-like. Farid was quiet, with his hidden wings, blue eyes, and flames betraying him as one of Nefere’s descendants.
“I somehow doubt the goddess of water could not pull water or create it from other things.” Nyzaia scoffed.
“Exactly,” Keres scoffed too. “Idiots. She admires sacrifice, though. She says it shows loyalty and dedication. Therefore, as a nod to Nefere’s life, she planted the water for that oasis.” Keres gestured over his shoulder at the oasis where they had met him.There are two sides to every story,Exandria had said.
“But something else happened. I assume the battle happened here before you were locked away.”
“Observant one, aren’t you?” Keres said. “Nefere was just a distraction that allowed the others to stab us in the back and finish the tasks that would bind us here. I suppose it is my punishment,” Keres sighed, pausing as they reached the gate into the Neutral City. Nyzaia tucked away the information. He seemed unaware of her conversation with someone who was potentially one of the ‘others’ he referred to. She recalled the look of loss in Exandria’s eyes. Nefere had meant something to her. There was far more to Keres’s story—another side and reason they wanted to lock the gods away. Keres looked at Farid. “Your people are my greatest success and my biggest failure.” Before Farid or Nyzaia could ask anymore, Keres turned and walked through the gate. “Hurry up, we’re late,” he said, and Nyzaia realised the sun was already beginning to set.
***
The temple was not as she remembered. Alongside her fellow rulers and their friends, Nyzaia stared up at the structure, which stood as it once had. It didn’t even resemble the temple before it was blown into pieces. The spires appeared more intricate, and the windows more welcoming. Perhaps her view was tainted by the boredom she experienced as a child. Coloured glass shone in the setting sun, and she imagined the mosaic rainbow cast within. The chiselled stone wove around its frames, twisting higher in whirling directions until forming the spires and the crown atop the building. Nyzaia and Farid were the last to arrive. The others stood in a row, looking up at the temple. Keres did not acknowledge them as he strode inside.
“Has anyone figured out exactly what the Isle of Gods is?” Nyzaia asked. “How does it relate to the prophecy? Why did we need to be sent here?”
“It appears to be a reflection of Novisia, but which was herefirst?” asked Larelle.
“They were here first. Keres spoke of what it used to look like, though it’s different from Novisia. He says it is a prison,” Nyzaia said, and Elisara nodded, though the others had clearly not been told such words. The clink of chains sounded beside Nyzaia, who glanced at Soren, slowly shuffling over, away from Sadira and Caellum. Elisara and the others simply glared at the fallen queen. Nyzaia’s stomach twisted. Still, she had not told Elisara about Soren’s part in Kazaar’s death. After witnessing Elisara’s pain, harming herself with the darkness, Nyzaia could not bear to further burden her mind.
Soren’s skin reddened around her wrists, and as Nyzaia no longer felt her power thrumming through her veins, she imagined Soren was the same. So, as the rulers continued speaking, Nyzaia used a dagger from her thigh to unpick the lock.
“Thank you,” Soren murmured, her head twitching. Her eyes flicked back and forth between the rulers, and Nyzaia’s hands stilled.
