The Tula cave garden was vast and deep, just a short trek from the Tulan sea.

  Inside, there were several entrances. Some were behind walls of lilies, while others were wide and open. A sweet scent permeated the air.

  The Aloxa family have lived inside the Tula cave garden cave for over 300 years. Every fifth day, they come together and pray at The Garden that rests at the center.

  After his encounter with Azeri, Jashu quickly headed home where he was immediately greeted by his niece, Princess Lisnera.

  “Uncle! Uncle!” She shouted, jumping up and down. “The Queen is coming!”

  Jashu placed the box gifted by Azeri on the ground and scooped his niece into his arms. She was only four years of age with wavy pink hair like her mother.

  “Its nice to see you too, my lily.” He responded instead, no clue what she was talking about. “Are you talking about Grandmother?”

  Unlike others, the Aloxa family did not have Queens and Kings. Only Princesses, Princes, and Spirit. Grandmother was Spirit, an eternal being who they bowed to. The first Created. She lived in The Garden, a land of mystical power.

  Lisnera flicked her uncle’s nose. “Mesyla, you silly.”

  “The Mountain Queen?”

  Lisnera nodded.

  “Where did you get that from?”

  Lisera motioned her head towards another cave entrance behind him. “Mom.”

  Princess Dianera.

  Jashu looked over his shoulder where a wall of white lilies stood. “My sister?”

  Lisnera nodded.

  For Jashu, a foreign sovereign arriving in Aloxa land smelled bad news.

  “Did she say anything else?”

  Lisnera bit her lip and thought to herself for a long moment before shaking her head.

  “Shall we visit your mother then?”

  Lisnera nodded with a smile.

  But before he could move, the ground began to shake and a soft green light slowly appeared.

  “Grandmother.” They said at the same time.

  ***

  “If Azeri has truly returned, we shouldn’t isolate her.” Cara said, as soon as her and Stefan were alone.

  After Flip’s dramatic exit from the Dreamworld, the two followed minutes later and were now seated in the dining room in the palace.

  A blanket of darkness mostly covered the rather large room, with the only light coming from the lone candle at the center of the table.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Stefan had taken a seat at the head of the table, and Cara took the one next to his.

  The elder Lady wanted to be as close to him as she could.

  “What are you saying, Cara?”

  Cara turned her head upwards. “In the legends in Siré, they say Azeri brings confusion and fear.”

  Stefan leaned back in his chair. “And?”

  “The Reclaimants are never going to give up until your head is on a stake and their kingdoms have been restored.” She answered flatly. “The Prophexians are on your doorsteps at this moment shouting to the skies and don’t get me started on Rosar’s dreams…. We….”

  Stefan rolled his eyes. “Rosar said her dreams are not destinies. They are…..”

  “Not absolute, I know.” Cara sighed.

  The two had this conversation a couple of times already, often ending in Stefan dismissing Cara’s concerns of Rosar’s dreams.

  Before she died, Rosar explained to Stefan that she didn’t dream normally. As the Incarnate of the Prophetic Goddess, some of her dreams were warnings.

  “But what did Rosar always say? Her dreams can still birth unpleasant futures.” She continued. “The dreams are warnings that…”

  A door suddenly swung open and Cara stopped speaking.

  A small servant carrying two plates of cooked lamb quickly appeared and placed their meals on the dark, stone table in front of them.

  Stefan immediately picked up the silverware and began digging in.

  Once she was out of sight, Cara turned her attention back towards Stefan.

  “We have to prepare for the Duad dream.” She said nervously, fidgeting with the hems of her sleeves. “The One who Rises with the Power of Two.”

  Stefan continued sawing into his lamb.

  “If a war does come….” Cara took a deep breath. “even your power wouldn’t be enough to defeat a being with the power of two Gods. Azeri could help.”

  “We don’t even know Azeri’s true nature.” Stefan countered, chewing a small piece of lamb. “We don’t even know if Azeri is truly here.”

  Cara rolled her eyes. “And what if it’s here? You heard that scream.”

  Stefan’s grip on the knife tightened. “Rosar was vague with her dreams, Cara. The War of Endings. The Duad. The Shattered Veil. We don’t have time to worry about such vague possibilities. We have bigger problems.”

  Cara stopped fidgeting with her sleeves. “What are you talking about?”

  Stefan slowly set down his silverware.

  Cara’s throat felt heavy suddenly.

  “I lied.” He mumbled, avoiding her gaze.

  Cara slightly shook her head, visibly confused.

  “I didn’t call the shifter because Princess Ely took something of Death.” He revealed, then met her eyes.

  There was a sort of softness in his gaze.

  “What did she take?”

  Stefan reached out towards Cara’s cheek and caressed her face. “The Fragment.”

  Cara shot to her feet. “No”

  Just like Queen Shara in the Isle, a piece of the lost Crown of Judgment mysteriously fell into his hands. It was in the Hallow War. Stefan was recovering from being reborn when a mysterious woman appeared, holding a chest close to where her heart should have been.

  She was wearing a veil, so Stefan couldn’t clearly see her face.

  I have a gift. She told him. Find the remaining pieces and Arla will be yours.

  “How could you have let this happen?” Cara scolded. “How could she have possibly known?”

  The door swung open again.

  A different servant appeared. She was wearing a long, silver satin dress. Her hair was piled on the top of her head, held together by a small seashell. Rea was a servant of high value. One of the king’s favorites.

  “Your Majesty.” She bowed. “Your son and ladies are here for dinner.”

  The king nodded. “Send them in.”

  The servant bowed and exited.

  Less than a minute later, the back door swung open.

  “Your Majesty.” A woman gasped, clearly out of breath.

  Yolana. The king’s sister.

  The king quickly stood and raced towards her.

  Yolana was shaking.

  “What is it, my sister?”

  “My king, she’s here.” She gasped. “She’s here. She’s here. She’s here.”

  Cara shot to her feet. Stefan raised a hand, silently telling her not to come close.

  Since the war, Yolana was no longer in the right state of mind. She didn’t like to be swarmed by strangers.

  “Yolana, who is here?” The king asked softly.

  Yolana just kept shaking her head until the front door swung open.

  Yolana looked over Stefan’s shoulder and fainted in his arms.

  “Stefan.” A woman said coldly.

  Cara let out a loud gasp, while Stefan’s body tensed.

  The king knew that voice, the very voice that had been missing for over 45 years.

  Stefan slowly turned around until his eyes landed upon a woman with a knife to Cara’s throat. She looked just like she last saw him… when she came to his palace with the staff gifted by her Goddess. The lost Isle Queen.

  “Shioban.”