Chapter 22

  Reiko sat hunched in the dim corner of the hut, her cloak wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Her eyelids grew heavier with each passing moment, drawing her toward the cusp of a peaceful sleep. The quiet creak of the back door shattered the stillness. Startled, she cracked open one eye just in time to see Eldric and Fiora slip inside. Their movements were careful, deliberate, as they headed straight for Fiora’s room.

  Reiko frowned but shrugged it off, allowing her eyelids to fall shut once more. Yet, as she teetered on the edge of unconsciousness, another sound interrupted her—a soft click followed by shuffling footsteps. Her brow furrowed as she sat up and looked across the room. There they were again, but this time, Eldric and Fiora were dressed in full armor, heading for the back door.

  “What’s going on?” Reiko asked, springing to her feet.

  Eldric turned, his voice hurried and clipped. “We’re just going out for some late-night training.”

  “We’ll likely be gone for a while,” Fiora added, her tone measured but distant. “So, best not to wait up for us.”

  Before Reiko could press further, Eldric and Fiora disappeared into the night. Something about their behavior gnawed at her. It didn’t feel right.

  Crossing to the front window, Reiko peeked outside. The others were still gathered around the fire, their laughter and chatter floating on the cool night air. They were oblivious to what had just transpired. Pulling her hood tightly over her head, Reiko resolved to follow them. Whatever they were up to, it wasn’t ordinary.

  Eldric and Fiora marched down the rocky path leading to the pond, their footsteps muffled by the soft earth. Moonlight bathed the area in a silvery glow, casting long, wavering shadows. As they neared the spot where their mothers had appeared earlier, Eldric’s hand moved instinctively to his swords. He drew them swiftly, stepping in front of Fiora in a protective stance.

  From the shadows, two cloaked figures emerged, their movements fluid and purposeful.

  “Is that really the appropriate way to greet your mother?” Syra’s voice cut through the night, smooth and teasing. She stepped into the light, pushing back the hood of her black cloak to reveal a face both aged and resolute. Her arms extended in a mockery of a welcoming embrace.

  “What are you doing here?” Eldric growled, his voice low and dangerous.

  “And more importantly,” Fiora interjected, her sharp gaze fixed on the second figure, who was clad in white, “how are you still alive?”

  Syra chuckled softly, the sound carrying an edge of irony. “That, my dears, will take some explaining. We should find somewhere more suitable to talk.” She gestured into the woods before turning, her companion—Eira—following silently.

  Eldric and Fiora exchanged a wary glance but eventually fell in line behind them. The thick underbrush pressed close, muffling their footsteps as they pushed deeper into the forest. After a tense ten minutes of hiking, they arrived at a small clearing. A makeshift campsite came into view, centered around a ragged fire pit. Two weathered logs served as crude benches.

  With a snap of her fingers, Syra ignited the fire, its flames leaping to life and bathing the clearing in a warm glow.

  “Go ahead, have a seat,” Eira offered, gesturing toward one of the logs. Eldric hesitated but sheathed his swords and sat down. Fiora followed, her expression unreadable.

  “Well,” Syra began, clearing her throat. “Where to start?”

  “I want to know why you’re here,” Eldric snapped, his eyes narrowing.

  Syra tilted her head, unfazed by his hostility. “So, you said Seppel told you some of what’s going on?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Eldric’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “He told me plenty,” he said, his voice cold. “But I didn’t know whether to believe him… until now.”

  “Good old Seppel,” Syra mused with a faint chuckle. “Your uncle always did have quite a big mouth.”

  Fiora turned to Eldric, her curiosity piqued. “Your uncle?” she asked, her tone tinged with surprise.

  Eldric nodded. “Yes, I learned a lot from him. Reiko also shared a great deal of information, including the history of the war and why it is happening.”

  Fiora stared at him, her expression a mix of confusion and disbelief. “So, your… uncle… and Reiko?” she asked, her voice trailing off. “What did they tell you?”

  Eldric glanced at his mother, who gave a small nod and gestured toward Fiora. “Please, fill her in. To understand what I am about to explain, she needs to know this information,” Syra said firmly.

  Reluctantly, Eldric settled into his seat and began recounting everything he had learned from Seppel and Reiko—the Great War, the lineage of the ancient kings, and the immortal dragon. Fiora listened intently, her brows furrowing as the weight of the story sank in.

  When Eldric finished, Syra clapped her hands lightly, pulling their attention back to her. “And that brings us to the start of the current war,” she said with a faint smile. “Now, hopefully, we can shed some light on your questions, Fiora, about how we are still alive.”

  “You see,” Eira began, gesturing toward Syra, “Syra here has a secret. A rather significant one.”

  Syra took a step closer, her eyes locking with Eldric’s. “You may not have realized it, Eldric, but Lord Jamdak has been keeping a close eye on you ever since he discovered you survived Ashley’s raid on Valifield. He has gone to great lengths to ensure you stay away from us.”

  “He fears you might uncover your mother’s secret,” Eira added, her tone sly.

  Eldric leaned forward, his voice sharp. “And what secret is that?”

  Syra’s expression hardened. “There is no doubt you’ve noticed your unique ability to foresee an enemy’s moves in combat, correct?”

  Eldric’s eyes narrowed. “You mean Providentia?”

  Syra’s lips curled into a faint smile. “I’ll take that as a yes. And given that you know it by name, I assume Seppel studied the ancient tomes we entrusted to him and trained you in this art, as we instructed.”

  “That you entrusted him?” Fiora interjected, her eyes widening. Syra nodded in confirmation.

  Eldric frowned, his confusion growing. “So, Lord Jamdak is afraid I might tell you about Providentia?” he asked. “But why? It’s something I already know. What’s the big deal?”

  “Providentia is not the secret,” Syra clarified, her tone steady. “It is merely a symptom of the secret—a gift you inherit from me.”

  Eldric’s frown deepened. “From you?”

  “I’m sure Seppel mentioned that Providentia is a bloodline trait,” Eira added, her voice laced with excitement. “But it doesn’t come from just any bloodline. The blood that grants this ability is special—rare, in fact. So rare that many believe it to be extinct.”

  Fiora gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “The blood of the ancient kings!” she exclaimed, her mind racing as she recalled Eldric’s earlier tale. “Eldric, do you realize what this means?”

  He shrugged, his confusion evident. “Not really.”

  Syra leaned closer, a knowing smile on her face. “It means that any son of mine possesses the power to control the dragon and could claim the throne as the rightful king.”

  Eldric’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You mean to tell me that I’m a king?”

  Syra smirked, her tone light but deliberate. “Technically, no. But you could be, should you choose to claim your birthright.”

  Eldric’s jaw dropped slightly under the weight of this revelation.

  “And Lord Jamdak knows this,” Eira added. “Or at least he has a very strong suspicion. During that horrendous gore fest two hundred and fifty years ago, when we helped the other wizards return the dragon to its slumber at Dracnesse Mountain, Lord Jamdak somehow detected a faint magical connection between your mother and the dragon.”

  Syra’s brow furrowed in thought. “It was quite an anomaly, actually, considering that women of the royal bloodline do not even possess the ability to control the dragon.”

  Eira took a deep breath, her eyes scanning the group. “When we realized what Lord Jamdak had discovered, we dropped everything and vanished in the middle of the fight. In the end, everyone assumed we had died in combat—everyone except Lord Jamdak, of course,” she said, her tone tinged with annoyance. “He became obsessed with finding us, convinced that the last thing the world needed was the possibility of someone else capable of raising the dragon and plunging it back into despair.”

  “And so,” Syra continued, “with Lord Jamdak on our trail, we spent the better part of two centuries watching the world from the sidelines, training and honing our abilities.” Her voice softened, and her gaze dropped. “Before long, the war between Prince Thornevale and the Great Cities broke out.”

  Eira bent down and picked up a wooden stick, turning it in her hands as she spoke. “Good old Lord Jamdak, ever the moralist, persuaded the wizard council to vote on a resolution: they would not involve themselves in the war beyond what was necessary to defend their nation.” Her voice carried a note of disappointment. “Under no circumstances would they launch any sort of offense. This all stemmed from Jamdak’s deep-seated objection to causing unnecessary harm to humans, even the citizens of Oaklea.”

  Syra’s gaze grew distant as she stared into the fire. “After nearly thirty years of observing the war from the shadows, we came to a grim realization. This conflict could take one of several paths, any of which might spell the end of all existence,” she said quietly. “I made the difficult decision that I would bear and raise a son who could control the dragon, should it ever become necessary.”

  Eira’s voice softened as she continued. “And so, after one failed attempt, your mother and I shed our black and white cloaks and assumed new identities. We hatched a plan to establish a settlement where we could raise children without drawing unnecessary attention.” She hesitated, as though the memory was both painful and fond. “I was no longer Eira. I became Amara.”

  “And I, no longer Syra, became Selene,” Syra added, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

  Eira’s expression brightened as she recounted the next part of their tale. “The two of us journeyed to Aldcliff. There, we met your fathers. With a little magic, we convinced them and a group of their friends to leave everything behind—their families, their homes—and join us in establishing a community far beyond the reaches of the war.”

  Syra’s voice took on a nostalgic tone as she continued. “We marched for days through the endless forest until the trees opened up to reveal a vast valley,” she said, her eyes gleaming with the memory. “In the fertile fields below, we found the ruins of an ancient village.” She turned to Eldric, her gaze steady. “Valifield, we would come to call it. During our efforts to restore the ruins into a functioning town, Eira and I made a peculiar discovery.”

  “We discovered a tiny patch of Lunaflare growing under a pile of rotting boards,” Eira exclaimed happily.

  Eldric shifted uneasily. “Wait, so you mean to tell us that the Lunaflare was discovered only just before we were born?”

  “In Valifield, yes,” Syra replied. “It used to grow commonly in many other places, but the wizards drove it to extinction.”

  “At least, we believed the flower to be extinct,” added Eira, her voice tinged with a mix of wonder and pride, “until we discovered some in Valifield. Perhaps the very last specimens in existence.”

  “Fortunately, none of our companions paid the Yuka any mind,” Eira said, using a stick to poke at the flaming logs. “Having never used it before, they couldn’t see the flower’s splendid blue shimmer. They ignored it like any other weed. No one even noticed when Syra and I dug up every last one and carried them off into the woods.”

  “So,” Syra continued, her tone lightening, “we replanted them along a secluded pond fed by a bubbling waterfall.”

  “By the training hut?” Fiora exclaimed, the realization dawning on her.

  “Exactly,” Syra said proudly. “After planting the Lunaflare, we cast a spell around the area to conceal its location. The only way someone could find the hut was if they were guided by someone who already knew its whereabouts.”

  “With the Yuka safe, we rejoined the others and settled into our new home,” Eira stated, tossing her stick into the flames. “By the end of our first year in Valifield, you two had been born.”

  “Even in our secluded community, we weren’t entirely free from the shadows of the war,” Syra said. “So, as soon as you were old enough, Alaric began training you both in the ways of the Aetherguard. After mastering everything Alaric could teach, you both ran away from home and enlisted in the war.”

  Eldric suddenly stiffened. “What do you mean we enlisted in the war?”

  “Exactly what it sounds like,” Syra said matter-of-factly. “The years went by, and the war took a disastrous turn for the worst.”

  “In the end,” Eira added sadly, “you both died in combat.”

  Eldric shot to his feet, his voice shaking. “What the hell are you talking about? We’re sitting right here, aren’t we?”

  “You’ll understand soon enough,” Syra replied, a note of irritation creeping into her voice. “But I’m getting ahead of myself.”

  Reluctantly, Eldric sank back onto the log, his gaze still locked on his mother. Syra resumed her tale. “A few weeks before you began your training with Alaric, Lord Jamdak came to Valifield.”

  Eldric’s brows knit together in confusion. “I thought he wanted you dead. How did he find you?”

  “Nothing happens in the Great Cities that escapes Lord Jamdak’s notice,” Syra said, her tone growing serious. “When the two of us visited Aldcliff under assumed identities, word of our presence must have reached his ears.”

  “So, what did he want?” Fiora asked, her voice edged with curiosity. “Did he try to kill you?”

  Syra let out a soft laugh. “Of course not. The old bastard wouldn’t have stood a chance against us, and he knew it.”

  “Well then, why did he come to Valifield?” Eldric demanded.

  “To seek a favor,” Syra replied. “Lord Jamdak had grown exceedingly old; he was nearing his ten-thousandth year. His strength was waning, and his influence over the council’s five wizards was slipping away.” Her gaze shifted to Fiora. “His greatest fear was that they might defy his wishes and vote to directly involve the Great Cities in the war by launching a counterassault. Lord Jamdak believed this could drastically increase human casualties. He came to us in search of the Lunaflare.”

  “What could the Lunaflare do for him?” Fiora asked, her tone tinged with confusion. “It’s not like he was sick or injured—just old.”

  “Yes, Fiora,” Syra said knowingly. “You, of all people, are well aware of the powers of the Lunaflare. As you know, the flower is incredibly toxic. Lethal, in fact, if too much is consumed. But what you may not know is one of the Lunaflare’s more remarkable abilities.” Syra paused, letting the weight of her words sink in. “When brewed correctly, it can be turned into a potion capable of transforming your body to a younger age. That is precisely what Lord Jamdak sought. He planned to shed a few hundred years and regain his former strength.”

  “Obviously, you said no,” Eldric interjected. “Which is why he sent Ashley to destroy Valifield in search of it.”

  “Quite the contrary,” Syra said matter-of-factly. “We gave him plenty of it.”

  Eldric and Fiora exchanged baffled glances. Syra, noticing their confusion, added, “You’ll understand soon enough.”

  She continued, “At the time, we trusted that Lord Jamdak would use his renewed strength to continue advocating for peace.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “And for a while, he did,” Eira chimed in. “He stood firm on his stance that the Great Cities should not become directly involved in the war. He even attempted to negotiate a peace treaty with Prince Thornevale. But the negotiations quickly soured when Prince Thornevale refused to budge on Lord Jamdak’s excessive human rights demands.”

  Eira paused, her expression turning somber. “Before long, Lord Jamdak was forced to face the harsh reality that his policies were failing his people. Oaklea’s forces grew stronger by the day, and soon the tides of war advanced beyond the battlefields. The Great Cities fell under siege, and thousands perished.”

  “The situation spiraled out of control,” Syra added. “Lord Jamdak could not bear to see the terrible heartache of the past repeat itself. He felt it was his duty to prevent the people from experiencing the same suffering inflicted during his brother’s war. So, he chose to take drastic measures. He decided that the only way to restore peace was to raise the dragon once more. With the dragon under his command, he planned to declare himself ruler and establish peace through fear.”

  “In an attempt to preserve some semblance of democracy,” Eira said, staring into the fire, “he asked the council to vote on the matter. The motion passed narrowly, 3-2, with Alicia and Morrigan opposed. With the council’s approval, Lord Jamdak began preparations for the ritual.”

  “And what happened? Did it work?” Eldric asked.

  “Indeed, it did, but it did not go quite as planned,” Syra said, her voice heavy with regret. “Like his brother, Lord Jamdak assumed he was powerful enough to control the dragon. At first, his intentions were pure, but something about the dragon quickly drove him mad.”

  Syra paused, shaking her head slowly. “Only those with the royal bloodline can truly resist the dragon’s influence,” she continued, disappointment lacing her tone. “Jamdak grew delusional, believing he was still in control, but the dragon slowly took over him. Instead of merely defending the Great Cities from Oaklea, the dragon turned its wrath on everyone, going in for the kill.”

  “The war ended in utter devastation,” Eira said with a heavy sigh. “Both nations were destroyed, every remaining wizard was killed, and millions of lives were lost. The worst part?” Her voice faltered, sadness overtaking her. “You both died in the fight while the two of us remained in Valifield and did nothing. You were only twenty-five years old.”

  Eira’s voice cracked as she continued, “We could have joined the fight. We could have done something, but instead, we sat there and watched the world end. The dragon destroyed everything, including Lord Jamdak, but it never returned to Dracnesse Mountain.”

  Syra took a deep breath and studied Eldric and Fiora silently. After a few moments, it was Fiora who broke the silence. “Why do you call him Lord Jamdak?” she asked. “It’s not like he deserves the honor of the title after everything you claim he’s done.”

  “It’s difficult to explain,” Syra admitted. “We still respect the man; his intentions were pure. He truly believes what he is doing is right, but he refuses to listen to reason. That is why he must be stopped.”

  “Clearly, there is more to this story,” Eldric said, his irritation growing. “How do you explain the fact that Fiora and I are alive right now, and this dragon you speak of is nowhere to be found?”

  Eira grinned faintly. “I see your patience is wearing thin,” she said. “Fortunately, we’ve finally reached the part of our tale that should answer all your questions.”

  She nodded to Syra, who took over. “After witnessing the complete obliteration of the known world, we were determined to find a way to set things right again. We journeyed to the summit of Mt. Dracnesse and discovered an ancient library housed in a wooden mansion.”

  Syra’s tone shifted to one of awe as she continued. “In addition to the library, we found a mysterious black stone monument with an inscription that read, ‘You can still save him.’ Those five words gave us the confidence that the answer we sought could be found on that mountain.”

  Eira’s voice filled with determination as she added, “We spent years pouring over the tomes in that library, searching for something that could help us. Eventually, we began studying forbidden magic. In particular, we focused on the art of time travel.”

  “Time travel?” Fiora repeated, her voice barely above a whisper, her disbelief evident.

  Syra nodded gravely. “It’s a taboo branch of magic, nearly impossible to master, and it takes a punishing toll on anyone who attempts it. Traveling through time rips through the very fabric of the universe, and the damage to the body can shave decades off a wizard’s life. It was a sacrifice we knew we had to make.”

  Fiora’s wide eyes remained fixed on Syra as she thought to herself, How can any of this be real?

  Syra continued, “Once we perfected the ability, we traveled back in time to the day you two were conceived, beginning our quest to save the future. It’s a task that has consumed nearly two hundred and thirty years of our lives.”

  “Wait a moment,” Fiora said, her brow furrowing. “Wouldn’t there have been two of you if you had jumped back in time?”

  “Time doesn’t work like that,” Eira replied. “When you travel back in time, you always take the place of the ‘you’ from the past. There can never be two of you in existence at the same time.”

  “There’s only ever been one exception to that rule,” Syra added, her tone tinged with uncertainty. “And we have yet to fully understand the implications she might cause.”

  Eira raised her hand, counting off on her fingers. “We employed several different tactics to change the course of time. At first, we tried appealing to Lord Jamdak’s sensibility by warning him of the consequences of waking the dragon,” she said, raising one finger. “When that failed, we tried a new approach by not giving him the flower when he came seeking it,” she continued, raising another.

  Lifting a third finger, she added, “Beyond that, we’ve trained you both more intensively, hoping Eldric could claim the throne. We even made an attempt on Jamdak’s life.”

  Eira sighed deeply, shaking her head. “However, every attempt has failed. No matter what variables we change, the result is always the same: the dragon eventually wakes. This has come to be what we call a fixed variable.”

  “We eventually concluded that since the dragon’s awakening is inevitable, you must be there to control it,” Syra said firmly. Her gaze locked on Eldric. “Eldric, you must take the throne, control the dragon, and send it away for good. That is why we’ve had to try this repeatedly. You must become powerful enough and survive long enough to overpower Jamdak and control the dragon. Otherwise, it will rise by other means, and everything will be destroyed. Millions of innocent lives will be lost.”

  Eldric buried his face in his hands, his thoughts heavy. “How many times have we tried this?” he eventually asked.

  “This is the fifteenth time we’ve raised you,” Syra replied, her voice steady but somber. “Both of you, actually.”

  “And what went wrong the past nine times?” Eldric pressed.

  “We’ve had a variety of outcomes,” Syra admitted. “Most of them either involved your deaths or the dragon waking before you were strong enough to face it.”

  “So, what makes you think this time will be any different?” Fiora asked, her tone sharp with skepticism.

  “We added Ashley to the equation,” Syra replied simply. “And in doing so, we’ve managed to give Eldric the drive he needed to find himself stronger now than in any of our previous attempts by this point.”

  “How did using Ashley accomplish that?” Eldric asked, his tone edged with curiosity.

  Syra’s voice grew weary as she explained. “After we refused to give Lord Jamdak the Lunaflare, we set the wheels in motion to ensure he would hire Ashley to attack Valifield and recover the flower for him. Once the two of you settled in Aldcliff after your fathers’ deaths, we had Ashley disguise her men as Oaklean soldiers to raid the city and kill your remaining loved ones.”

  Syra paused, a smug grin creeping across her face. “Imagine if Lord Jamdak knew it was actually Ashley who coordinated that assault. Perhaps if he’d known, he wouldn’t have been so eager to hire her three years later to assassinate the council. Best of all, the damned fool thought it was a good idea to have us tag along. If only we could have been there when he arrived to see the utter terror in his eyes once he realized that Eira and I had crushed his precious cities like sand sculptures.”

  “And he was none too pleased to discover that Alicia and Morrigan survived,” Eira added. “The other wizards were too loyal to Lord Jamdak and had to go. However, since Alicia and Morrigan had voted against Lord Jamdak reawakening the dragon once before, we chose to spare them, knowing they could take care of you and help us in the fight against him.”

  “But why?” Eldric cried, his voice breaking. “Why did you kill all of those people?”

  “Simple,” Syra replied coldly. “By senselessly stripping you of everything and everyone that ever mattered to you, we unleashed within you one of the greatest fuels of motivation: the drive for revenge.” She continued with pride, “Never before in any of our attempts were you as strong as you are now. I am confident that you will be ready to perform your duty when the time arises. We cannot afford to fail again.”

  “So, that’s what’s different this time? All of this was to make me mad?” Eldric stammered. He sat down heavily, his fingers curling into tight fists as anger rippled through him.

  Syra and Eira exchanged a knowing look before nodding. “Yes,” Syra said simply. “It was the only way to push you hard enough to gain the necessary drive to become such an accomplished warrior.”

  Eira interjected, her tone gentler. “However, revenge wasn’t the only emotion we exploited to drive you. There is another force, mysterious and powerful. It’s an emotion that can plunge even the sanest individuals into the darkest of places and push the best of us into the most drastic of measures.”

  She paused for effect before continuing. “I’m talking, of course, about love. It was your love for Fiora and your stubborn desire to protect her at all costs that enabled me to convince you to leave it all behind and travel to Dracnesse Mountain.”

  “Wait, that was you?” Eldric asked, his brow furrowing in disbelief. “How did I not recognize you?”

  “It was easy enough,” Syra replied. “I wasn’t ready to reveal myself to you, so I used magic to disguise myself.”

  “And that brings us to the second variable that’s different this time,” Syra continued. “During our most recent failure, you had a daughter, and we discovered her to be a wizard. This time, we brought your daughter back with us. In addition, we brought your uncle, Seppel, along so that he could raise the child and train you when you arrived at Dracnesse.”

  “Wait just one moment,” Fiora interrupted, her voice sharp with disbelief. “Your daughter?”

  “More specifically, our daughter,” Eldric replied softly.

  Fiora stared at him, dumbfounded. “What are you… Wait, Reiko?”

  Eldric nodded with a small smile.

  Eira reached out and rested her hand gently on Fiora’s stomach. “As I expected,” she said matter-of-factly. “You carry her as we speak.”

  “How on earth could you know that?” Fiora exclaimed, pushing Eira’s hand away, her voice tinged with both shock and anger. “I mean, it was only just last nigh—” She froze, her cheeks burning scarlet. “But wait a moment. If I really am pregnant, how is it that the other Reiko is still here?”

  “She is the exception we were talking about,” Syra explained. “It is inexplicable, but somehow there are two of her in this timeline. Almost as if her soul has been split in two.” Her gaze drifted into the darkness. “We came here assuming the Reiko you knew would be gone.” She paused, narrowing her eyes. “But I can see she is still somehow very much alive.”

  Eldric sighed heavily. “I was told she was brought here through time by the black and white wizards. And that she was my daughter.” He stared at his mother in disbelief. “But I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t believe it was true.”

  Fiora, still grappling with the revelations, laid down another challenge. “I was told that wizards are no longer born.”

  “It is a rare occurrence but not unheard of,” Eira replied. “Which ties into our problem—the reason why this is our last chance to save the future.”

  “What would that be?” Eldric asked, his intrigue evident as he shifted to find a more comfortable position on the log.

  “Once a wizard reaches the age of four hundred and fifty, she is no longer able to bear children,” Eira explained. “In our early attempts, when everything fell apart, we could simply travel back to the day of your conception so that you two could be reborn.”

  Eira sighed, a trace of frustration in her voice. “However, because you always replace your past self when you travel back in time, our bodies have continued to age. We have long since become unable to give birth. This is our tenth attempt to raise you to take the throne since that milestone passed.”

  “How are we here if you couldn’t give birth the past few times?” Fiora questioned, her voice tinged with both curiosity and concern.

  “It wasn’t easy,” Syra admitted, her tone heavy. “Twice, we had to rescue you from the brink of death to bring you back in time.” She sighed deeply. “During every attempt, we regularly studied the message on the black stone to evaluate our progress.”

  “The trouble is that the human body is not built to withstand the effects of time travel,” Syra added. “As I said earlier, it’s a destructive undertaking even for a wizard’s body.”

  “Then how were you able to bring us back?” Eldric inquired, leaning forward.

  “Each time before the trip, we had the two of you drink a high dosage of a modified Lunaflare nectar,” Syra explained, her gaze locking on her son. “Because of this special blend, you would transform back to the age of five, and the magical properties of the inoculation would protect your bodies from the trauma of time travel.”

  She turned her attention back to the fire. “You have no recollection of any of this because the poison from the flower always robbed you of your memories. Unfortunately, the amount of poison flowing through your veins is nearing the maximum concentration your bodies can handle.”

  “What does that mean?” Fiora asked, her concern deepening.

  “Simply put,” Syra stated with finality, “you have utilized the nectar to a much greater extent than your body can endure. If we were to risk bringing you back in time again, it would almost certainly kill you. In fact, it nearly did kill Fiora this last time.”

  A stunning realization dawned on Fiora’s face. “So that ‘heart condition’ that made me so ill when I was a child was actually caused by this?”

  A tear gently welled up in Eira’s left eye. She averted her gaze to the ground. “It was entirely my fault,” she sniffed, struggling to hold back her tears. “I couldn’t use the Lunaflare to cure you right away because it was the very thing that was killing you. So, I waited as long as possible for you to detox before feeding you more of its nectar. Thankfully, you recovered.”

  Eira wrapped her arms around Fiora in a tight embrace and cried on her shoulder. “I just hope that you can forgive me.”

  “It’s not exactly that simple!” Fiora shouted, her anger flaring up again. She pushed her mother away, disgust clear in her expression. “The two of you have committed unforgivable crimes against nature and humanity, and you expect us to just accept all of this?”

  “The greatest crime against nature and humanity would be standing by and watching it all crumble into the abyss when you knew you could have done something to stop it!” Eira shot back, her voice sharp. “Cruel and even savage as our actions may seem, we are simply doing what has to be done to ensure the future of this world!”

  “So, what do you expect us to do to help you save it?” Eldric asked, his voice low as he stared daggers at his mother.

  “Well, as I mentioned earlier, no matter what variables we change, the dragon will wake,” Syra began. “It does not matter if Jamdak is out of the picture, if you are out of the picture, or any other factors; the dragon is going to wake. Without a blood descendant of the ancient kings ready to control it, it will destroy everything.”

  Eira’s tone held a note of irritation as she continued. “It is the one thing that has remained constant across every timeline. That being said, one aspect regarding the dragon can change, and it often does so in unpredictable ways.”

  “What’s that?” Eldric asked.

  “The timing,” Syra replied. “As in how long it takes before the dragon finally rises.”

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Eldric said, worry creeping into his voice. “How can we be ready if we can’t control when it happens?”

  “Ah, but there’s the rub,” Syra stated, a faint smile breaking her otherwise serious demeanor. “We can control it.”

  “How is that?” Eldric inquired, his tone edged with disbelief.

  “Raising the dragon takes a tremendous amount of magic. Only Lord Jamdak possesses enough to do so, which means only he can decide when to wake the dragon,” Eira explained.

  “As long as we can ensure that he is driven to make that decision, then we can predict the timeline based on how long it takes for the Lunaflare to fully restore his power so he can perform the ritual,” Syra added.

  Eira continued proudly. “In fact, we even bought ourselves multiple years this time by ensuring that Ashley could only procure a handful of seeds for him. Unlike the nectar we once gave him, which restored his power instantly, it will take several years for Lord Jamdak to cultivate enough flowers to grant him his youth again.”

  Eldric paused, his thoughts heavy. “But how are we supposed to ensure he chooses to wake the dragon?”

  “Think back to earlier when we gave you the history of the first time the world ended. Why did Lord Jamdak choose to wake the dragon in that timeline?” Syra asked.

  Eldric closed his eyes, his brow furrowing in thought. “The war with Oaklea was getting out of hand,” he finally said.

  Syra nodded approvingly. “So Lord Jamdak decided to wake the dragon because he thought he could use it to end the suffering and force everyone to live in peace,” Eldric finished.

  “That’s correct,” Syra replied, a satisfied smile on her face. “In addition to measures designed to fill you with a drive for revenge, we’ve been working behind the scenes to ensure that Lord Jamdak will once again conclude that the only way he can end the suffering of the war is by waking the dragon.”

  “When Ashley’s troops invaded Aldcliff disguised as Oaklean soldiers, leaving June and Jutta dead among many others, it wasn’t solely about making you vengeful,” Eira said simply. “The invasion also initiated a carefully calculated ripple effect that shook up the wizard council.”

  Syra picked up the explanation. “With Alicia rallying them together, the wizards began pushing harder than ever for the Great Cities to launch a retaliation against Oaklea. Still old and weak with years before the Lunaflare’s maturation, Lord Jamdak barely managed to convince the others to temporarily stand down by promising to negotiate a peace treaty with Prince Thornevale.”

  Eira’s voice grew heavier as she continued. “However, they ridiculed him once the other wizards saw Lord Jamdak’s draft of the terms he intended to offer. Believing that Prince Thornevale would never agree to Jamdak’s ridiculous demands, the council voted 5-0 to disband any efforts toward establishing a treaty. They decided to meet again soon to discuss their next steps in the war. In defiance of their resolution, Lord Jamdak sent word anyway to Oaklea stating his wish to open peace negotiations.”

  Syra stepped in again. “Jamdak was furious at the council for betraying his wishes and voting him down. There wasn’t much he could do about it, as he was still quite frail and without his power. Panicked that this was only the beginning, Lord Jamdak hired Ashley to assassinate his council. To ensure that Alicia would gather all the wizards together, he had Ashley bring us along and then leaked information to Alicia that we were coming to capture Eldric.”

  “And you know the rest,” Eira added. “Syra and I destroyed the Great Cities, which Jamdak so na?vely never saw coming, and Ashley’s army invaded Oaklea under the banner of the Great Cities.”

  “So that was you two behind the attack on Oaklea,” Fiora said, shaking her head in disbelief. “Lord Jamdak blamed Alicia for that. He thought she went behind his back and acted without council approval.”

  “Exactly as we intended,” Eira stated proudly. “His own nation is nearly wiped from existence by Syra and me, his council seems to defy his wishes causing senseless suffering with an assault on Oaklea, and Prince Thornevale is now hell-bent on destroying every last remnant of Lord Jamdak and his Great Cities.”

  “Which sounds to me,” Eldric began thoughtfully, “like the perfect recipe to ensure that Jamdak decides to reawaken the dragon.”

  “We couldn’t agree more,” Eira said, nodding to Syra.

  “So, given everything, what’s our timeframe?” Eldric asked.

  “Our most conservative estimates have it taking less than a month before Lord Jamdak can cultivate enough nectar to return to full strength,” Syra responded. “In the meantime, he is laying low with Ashley until he is ready to perform the ritual.”

  “Over the past few years, Ashley’s army has merely been toying with you while Lord Jamdak has kept a close eye on Valifield,” Eira added. “However, I can all but guarantee that word of you two meeting with us will make it back to him, solidifying your position as a genuine threat. Lord Jamdak will try to summon the dragon as soon as he can. As the only male descendant of the ancient bloodline, you will have to defeat Jamdak, become king, and send the dragon back to sleep. Should you fail, it means the end of everything.”

  “And this is the last chance we have, huh?” Eldric asked. Syra and Eira nodded solemnly.

  Eldric sat in silence for a moment, then abruptly stood up. He took Fiora’s hand and nodded to their mothers. “I’m going to need some time to think everything over.”

  He turned to leave, Fiora at his side. As they walked back to the hut behind the campground, Eldric wrapped an arm around Fiora’s waist, attempting to comfort her. “I just don’t get it,” Fiora said, her voice full of confusion.

  Syra extinguished the tiny campfire with a flick of her wrist. She and Eira each pulled their hoods tight and stood to depart, but before they could leave, Reiko emerged from the thicket of trees, her expression thunderous. Her voice trembled with rage as she confronted them. “Those two seem likely to forgive you, but why should I?” She pointed an accusing finger at Syra and Eira. “You two have committed mass murder hundreds of times without even the slightest hint of remorse. You are scum!”

  “In your opinion, little one,” Eira replied calmly. Reaching out a hand, she brushed Reiko’s finger aside. “But I agree that every action we take is necessary for the greater good.”

  Reiko’s eyes grew cold and empty. She clenched her fist, summoning purple lightning bolts that crackled and danced around her fingers. “I should kill you both right now. I know I am capable of it. I wouldn’t have to hold back as I did with Alicia and Morrigan.”

  “Then why don’t you?” Syra taunted, her voice sharp. “If you really think you are that powerful.”

  Reiko stood frozen for a moment before her fists finally relaxed. The crackling purple lightning faded away. “For the time being, I will let you live,” she said, her tone low and threatening. “I don’t think my father would approve of me bringing your demise. At least, not yet.”

  “Exactly as I expected,” Eira said with a faint smile. With a sudden whoosh, the cloaked women disappeared into thin air.