“What do you mean the Gods have been lying?” Stefan asked Cara. “You must not profane the sacred.”
Cara raised her hands quickly. “I must confess something I should have confessed days before, my love.”
Stefan began to approach Cara, his slow steps echoed off the white walls. “Speak.”
Cara cleared her throat. “In the old palace in Siré, there is a painting of the Goddess Nirea.”
“A painting?” Stefan and Lord Flip said at the same time.
Cara nodded. “She has a hand covering the mouth of a kneeling woman….a dark-eyed woman.”
Stefan stopped walking, just short of Cara. His right hand reached towards her cheek, his fingers delicately swept across her pink lips. “What does this painting have to do with the topic at hand, Cara?”
“The painting has a name, my king.” She gasped.
The elder lady felt a slight buckle in her knees as Stefan pressed his thumb firmly against her bottom lip.
“And?”
“Silencing Azeri.” She revealed slowly.
Stefan dropped his hand.
“Silencing Azeri.” Stefan repeated.
The king looked over Cara’s shoulder where Flip was standing. The elder lord slowly shook his head.
“But that’s not all.” Cara continued, capturing his attention again. “In South Siré, there is a legend of a shifter sent by Hunu who was punished and locked away by Nirea. Can you guess the name?”
“Azeri.” Flip answered this time.
Cara turned and nodded. “The Unseen and Azeri are the same. Yet depending on who you ask….”
“It’ll be a different story.” Flip answered, finishing her sentence. “Why would the Gods hide Azeri’s true origins?”
Cara shrugged her shoulders, but a small smirk pulled at the edge of her mouth.
“And what else have they lied about and left us here alone with?” Flip added.
Stefan walked over to the east wall and placed a hand on it, its color changed from white to purple. “Is it any record of a similar legend in Itra or the Sandhills.”
Cara lowered her head. “For obvious reasons, I can’t approach the Sandhills’ border.”
“Itra?” Flip asked.
Cara raised her head. “Their archives do not exist in our world anymore.”
Flip’s jaw went slack.
“What are you talking about?” Stefan asked, frowning. The color of the wall changed again. Black.
“Their archives have been moved to a different place, a different time it seems.” Cara answered.
The lady was no longer smiling. When she visited the Ladies and Princesses of Itra, she couldn't believe her ears.
“When could they have possibly moved?”
Cara shrugged her shoulders. “The only person who could move them….”
“Is dead.” Flip answered. The Last Incarnate of Itra.
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The room went briefly silent.
“There’s also the daggers.” Stefan spoke into the silence.
Just like many Arlans, he had heard of the legends of the Itran daggers, of one that could actually open time.
“But the daggers have been lost.” Cara countered. “We need to find someone who has exact knowledge of the Unseen.”
Stefan let out a chuckle. “Cara, the only other person who could possibly tell us the truth about the Unseen is Hunu’s Incarnate and we don’t know where they are or if they are still alive.”
“No remains were ever found. They could be in Balosa.” Cara suggested. “Everyone believes the Incarnate fled to Balosa.”
The room fell silent again. Stefan kept glancing at Cara who kept glancing at Flip.
Then suddenly, Flip turned on his heels and marched towards the white door that was still standing in the middle of the room.
Stefan shouted after him. “Where are you going?”
“To find the truth.” He said loudly, his voice echoed off the walls. “Send me back to Azulae.”
Stefan tilted his head. “Home?”
“Now!”
The king was taken aback by his friend raising his voice, but he permitted his wish.
Stefan raised and waved his hand, unlocking the white door. Once Flip opened the door, he saw the palace was on the other side. The elder lord let out a sigh of relief.
After he crossed over and closed the door behind him, his eyes glowed green and suddenly he was home…..
in the Mountains.
And his skin began to change.
***
Port Tula is a small seaside city in the Meadows, only a small trek from Gardenia but far from Azulae. 345 years ago, the Goddess Fer bequeathed the city to her newly created Court of Preexistence: the Aloxa family.
The Aloxa family are a reclusive Arlan sub species that inhabits the seaside, often hiding in cave gardens. Unlike ordinary Arlans, their pupils are pink, resembling tulips, and skin is as white as snow. The Goddess Fer created them herself.
But despite their solitude, the Aloxa family are highly revered in the Gardenia kingdom for both their deep understanding of nature and connection to the realm of Syrianise. The very realm they are meant to protect.
The Aloxa Prince, Jashu, was out for a swim in the Tulan Sea when a woman appeared. She was wearing a long white robe and a blue shawl that only covered her upper half. When she reached the shoreline, she didn’t immediately shout for Jashu’s attention. Instead, she slightly dipped her bare feet in the emerald waters and watched him.
Jashu could swim for hours, if he wanted. Unlike his siblings, he enjoyed the cold waters. Marya, his sister, often jested his blood was tainted with Isle blood. Jashu knew she only said it out of jealousy.
After all, he inherited magic from his mother, Princess Dianera….unlike his sister. But unlike his mother, Jashu can’t command quakes. Instead, he commands Arlan vegetation. On a bad day, he could only raise a flower out of the dirt. On a very good day, though, he could raise the roots underneath the entire city with just a blink.
After a long moment watching him, the woman finally called his attention.
“Jashu.” She yelled, then whistled. A high pitched sound weaved through the air with a sinister quality until it found Jashu.
Jashu’s eyes searched the emerald waters until it landed on the woman.
The prince swam as fast as he could until he finally made it back on land.
The woman’s gaze slowly traveled down Jashu’s bare body as he dried himself off with a towel. “You are Jashu. Is that correct?”
“This is Aloxa land.” He huffed, desperately trying to dry and cover himself quickly .
“Is this how you greet the woman you’ve been writing to?” The woman asked, a hand planted on her hip.
Jashu slowly raised his head. “A.G?”
The woman nodded. “I’ve been wanting to meet you. Yet, you’re a very hard man to find, Jashu. Even for me.”
Jashu, a towel now wrapped around his waist, slowly approached the woman. He couldn't believe his eyes.
“And I have a gift.” She added, smiling wide.
Jashu noticed her other hand was behind her back. His lips slightly parted.
“Is it?” He gasped.
“Lucky for you, my uncle didn’t lock all of his doors.” She responded, then revealed the box she had been holding.
The wooden box had clearly been crafted from the finest material, smoothed and polished to perfection. The markings on the exterior were from a sort of old language Jashu couldn’t decipher.
The Aloxa Prince held out his hand.
“Its power is deadly, capable of causing wars. If your cousin wants to attack Azulae, this is what he’ll need.” The woman said, before handing off the box.
As soon as it was in his hands, Jashu’s heart began to race. When he went to open it, the woman placed a hand on top of his.
“Not yet.” She whispered. “Not in my presence.”
It was then when Jashu realized the woman's eyes weren’t exactly normal. Her eyes shimmered in shades of deep blues and black, and resembled the ever-moving Arlan seas. They appeared as pools of liquid, like rippling waves.
She was different.. like him and his family.
The woman suddenly pulled her hand back and turned on her heels, snapping Jashu out of the moment.
“Will you ever tell me your name?” He shouted after her.
The woman stopped walking and looked over shoulder. She knew she shouldn’t have told him. Mother wouldn’t have liked it, but she was finally free and all she wanted was to live her life like she wanted. So, she told him.
“Azeri.”