Chapter 2

• They stand in silence—nothing can be said. Kaelith’s worst nightmare is slowly taking form.
• And then the first bell rings. They gasp, turning their heads to the gates. The second bell follows, sharper, faster.
• Kaelith is the first to sprint outside, followed by the rest of the royal family. The crowd has gathered, all gazing at the distance.
• “Who keeps ringing the bells?!” the king demands. “Get that person here!”
• The guards drag a man named Yorn, responsible for doing such a thing. He quivers in front of the king.
• “Do you want to lose your head?” the king threatens him.
• “N—No Your Grace!” Yorn stutters. He then raises his trembling hand, pointing at the distance. “T—there. I—in t—the Sacred Cave.”
• Everyone follows his eyes seeing a halo above. This shouldn’t be happening. The Cave shakes and earthquake waves reach the city.
• People cry, trying to find their balance. Kaelith grabs Irelith, holding her close to him and protecting her from the rumbles.
• Finally, the ground calms, and a guard runs toward them. “My king! It’s true! There’s movement from inside the Cave!”
• “Could it be—” Irelith mumbles. As an Etherian—a new type of magic born from what was left of the Dragons—she uses her abilities to quickly escape her brother’s grip. She is fast, almost elusive.
• “Irelith!” Serika whimpers.
• Kaelith is the first to go after her, being the only one that can catch up to her as a student of the Arkan Brotherhood—men taught the martial arts of channeling and the wielding of a spirit weapon.
• She crosses the vast land of snow, a barren place beyond the city’s borders. The Sacred Care grows nearer and she can spot a figure from afar. As she reaches at a safe distance, she stands there, trying to understand what she sees.
• Scale by scale, the creature slowly and painfully transforms. Kaelith soon arrives and abruptly forces her to stay a few steps back. “It could be a demon—”
• “No, look!” she points.
• The creature's conversion is completed and from the ashes, a human is formed. Long brown hair spills down her back, clinging to cold, bare skin. Her beauty is almost unreal—fine-boned, luminous even in ruin.
• She shivers, breath trembling, her knees scraping against the frozen ground. Naked. Mortal. Breakable.
• Kaelith freezes, unable to wrap his head around what he sees. His hand trembles as he tries to unsheathe his sword, but something prevents him from doing so.
• This isn’t a demon, nor an evil Dragon.
• For a moment he can’t breathe. The woman before him looks otherworldly—too ethereal for any mortal realm.
• “Sirens,” he thinks. “Or spirits. Creatures that lure men to their deaths.”
• Her breath fogs in the cold. She wraps her arms around herself, trembling violently. She hasn’t felt cold for centuries—this seems new to her, unfamiliar. But the memory is there, when she was walking this world.
• She tries to stand, but it seems impossible at the moment. Irelith rushes to her side and Kaelith is spellbound to even try to stop her. The princess offers her cloak and wraps it around her. Softly, she helps her.
• “I’m Princess Irelith. What is your name?” she says gently.
• “M—my name…” she says barely above a whisper. “I’m L—Light…” The siblings hold their breath. “Leona… that was my name. C—call me t—that.”
• Leona notices Irelith—fair-skinned, green-eyed, her dark hair woven into countless braids, each one adorned with glints of gold.
• And then, her gaze locks onto him. A tall man, his skin pale as snow. His dark mane reaching his back, gathered only at the ends in a loose, low tie. Her eyes widen as she sees what others fear; his blue gaze, a reminder of the past and everything she had to sacrifice.
• “Aryan…” she faintly says, not loud enough for them to hear.
• “This is my half-brother, Kaelith,” Irelith introduces him. “I—I can’t tell you how excited I am to meet you, Light!”
• The princess is ecstatic, yet Leona clenches her jaw—she doesn’t wish to be called that, not anymore.
• “Come here!” Irelith urges him. He clicks his tongue and denies doing such a thing. He keeps his distance, thinking he is safe from the siren’s call.
• “We need to warm you up,” the princess suggests. Leona takes a few steps back, wishing not to burn her. With a flick of her fingers, fire pulsates on her palms, growing larger. Irileth is amazed, while Kaelith feels threatened by this act.
• The ground shakes and after a few seconds, they are surrounded. “Don’t move!” the general shouts.
• “Stop!” Irelith places herself in the middle. “This is Light, she is the Dragon!”
• The king stoops, taking a minute as he analyzes her. He sees the fire dancing on her fingertips. “She could be an Embermaked!”
• “A what?” Leona wonders, having not heard this term.
• “She is not, I saw her change!” Irelith insists. “Tell them Kaelith!”
• As she waits for her brother to take her side, he continues standing there, jaw clenched, making no sound.
• “We can’t just believe—”
• Leona has had enough. She raises her hand, her gaze is cold, pinned on the king. “This is the Sacred Cave, Atlas’s domain. No one can enter or exit without his permission.” Her voice is laced with pride.
• The king takes a moment and quickly dismounts. “Forgive me, Light.” He then bows, his knees reaching the ground. Everyone follows his command, even Irelith, everyone except Kaelith. Leona looks at him and smirks—she admires his defiance.
• “It’s been so many centuries. We weren’t expecting your arrival… How may we help? Serika says.
• Leona takes a deep breath. “It has come to our attention about an anomaly. Atlas sent me to investigate.”
• “What about Dark? The balance?” the king asks.
• “My other half is staying in Paradise, keeping the world at bay. I’m tasked to bring the anomaly to Atlas,” she answers. “So are we going to stand here?”
• Immediately, the king orders for a horse to be given to Leona. “Let’s go to Valekh and we’ll tell you everything we know.”
• “Valekh?” she wonders.
• “This is the name of the north, Light. This is the name Aryan had chosen during his reign,” he confesses.
• Leona grabs her chest, feeling her heart twist underneath. Hearing his name is enough to bring her sorrow, and Kaelith notices.
• As they ride toward Valekh, she slowly comes to terms on how many things have changed. A part of her wished that upon her arrival, her friends would be here. But everyone is dead and she is all that remains.
• Everyone is reincarnated somewhere in this world, unable to remember the part they played.
• Kaelith is riding beside her, feeling a pull toward the Dragon. He wants to deny it, admitting only to hate and nothing more.
• “Was Aryan buried?" Leona blurts out.
• Kaelith looks at her bewildered. “Y—yes.”
• “Is there a tomb that I can visit?” she continues.
• He is suspicious. “Why?”
• “He was my friend. I would like to pay my respects,” she gently says and he can sense her sincerity.
• “H—he is buried in the city. Someone can take you there,” he whispers.
• “Thank you! I admit, so much has changed—”
• “Don’t. Their terror is yours. I am not. So you’ll speak only when I allow it,” he orders, not a hint of mercy in his tone.
• She is taken aback. “I didn’t—people don’t fear me. I don’t wish for that.”
• “Good. Then stay out of my way.” Without waiting for a response, he pulls the reins, turns his horse, and kicks off—putting distance between them as fast as he can, as if distance might steady him… if distance might stop her from tormenting his mind.