The next morning, Aerin found herself in Mara’s apartment. The air was thick with the smell of incense and old books, the faint light of dawn creeping through the small window. Mara sat across from her, ancient tomes spread across the round table, her sharp eyes scanning the pages. The silence between them felt heavy, but Aerin knew it was about to break.

Mara looked up, her expression thoughtful, almost hesitant. "I’ve been looking into the archives," she began softly, fingers tracing over the delicate script on the parchment. "Your bloodline, Aerin… it’s as I suspected. You are not just any noble-born, not just any wielder of magic. The magic you possess, ancient, unruly, has been passed down from your mother’s side."

Aerin swallowed, her heart beginning to race. She had always felt there was something different about her magic, something deeper. But hearing Mara confirm it sent a shiver down her spine.

Mara continued, her voice steady. "Your mother, Queen Aelenthia, was one of the most powerful sorceresses in the history of Enderris. Her lineage can be traced back to the ancient days, when the rulers of this land were not only crowned by blood but by magic itself. The power in your veins—it is not simply inherited, Aerin. It is your birthright."

Aerin felt a lump in her throat as Mara mentioned her mother. Aelenthria. The woman who had been both a mystery and a lingering presence in Aerin’s life for as long as she could remember. The stories of her mother’s grace and power were whispered in the halls of her childhood, but she had never truly known her—not as a daughter should have.

"What about my father?" Aerin asked quietly, her voice tinged with sorrow.

Mara closed the book before her, her eyes softening. "Your father, King Aeristar, was a man of great strength, but his power lay more in his leadership and his unwavering loyalty to your mother. He was a king born of noble blood, yes, but not a wielder of magic. Their union was one of balance—she with her extraordinary abilities, he with the strength to rule a kingdom. Together, they ruled Enderris with wisdom and justice, maintaining peace in the kingdom for decades."

Aerin’s fingers tightened around the edge of the table, a wave of nostalgia washing over her. She remembered fragments—her father’s strong, reassuring presence, his laughter echoing through the halls, the way her mother would gently touch her father’s arm, the connection between them noticeable even to a child. Their names, she had almost forgotten them.

"They loved each other deeply," Mara continued, her eyes distant as if recalling memories not her own. "Their link was rare, especially among rulers. Your father was devoted to your mother in a way that few kings are to their queens. He trusted her magic, believed in it, and together they protected this kingdom. But your mother’s magic—your magic—was coveted, feared. And in the end, it made them both targets."

Their link was deep, they always looked at eachother with the deepest admiration and gratitude. They always laughed and held each other.

Aerin felt her breath hitch. The memory of their deaths was a scar she carried with her every day, but hearing Mara speak of the love her parents had shared made the pain feel sharper, more real.

Mara leaned closer, her voice low and intense, "The king, Hazrael, feared your mother’s power. That’s why he had them killed. It wasn’t merely about politics, Aerin. It was about eliminating the one force that could have stopped him. Your mother’s magic was not only powerful—it was intertwined with the very heart of this kingdom. And now, that power resides within you."

Aerin’s heart pounded in her chest as she stared at Mara, her voice trembling. "So, all this time… the magic I’ve been struggling with, the power I can’t control—it’s the same power my mother wielded?"

Mara nodded solemnly. "Yes. And it’s time you learn to embrace it. The blood of queens runs through your veins, Aerin. This is not just about reclaiming a throne; it’s about reclaiming the magic that was stolen from your family - the magic that could restore balance to Enderris."

Aerin gazed down at her hands, the faint shimmer of her magic flickering just beneath the surface. She had always known she was different, that her magic was stronger than most, even in the most basic wieldings. However she had never imagined it was connected to something so ancient and profound.

"My mother," she whispered, her voice heavy with emotion. "She knew, didn’t she? She knew this would happen."

Mara’s eyes softened as she reached out, gently placing a hand on Aerin’s. "I see that your mother believed in you, Aerin. She knew you would one day come into your power. She recognized greatness in you, even as a child. Now, it’s time for you to fulfill that legacy."

Aerin closed her eyes, feeling the weight of her mother’s memory and the power coursing through her veins settle over her like a heavy cloak. She was no longer just Aerin; she was the daughter of a queen, the heir to a magical legacy that had been stolen from her. And she would reclaim it —no matter the cost.

Her father’s and mother’s relationship was founded on trust, admiration and a deep-rooted connection between their two souls.

Trust.

The feeling of betrayal deepened within her. Elden had betrayed her. He knew everything about her, her life, her story; he knew it all.

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Talon had mentioned that Elden wanted to talk to her. She would, eventually.

She followed Mara to the market near her apartment. Even though her large garden with herbs outside the apartment building was filled with everything you usually needed, she still went out to the market to find roots, already blended salves and things for her pantry.

The market was alive with chatter and the earthy smell of freshly turned soil. Aerin moved alongside Mara, though her thoughts remained distant. The betrayal clung to her skin, no matter how she tried to brush it away.

Mara stopped at a nearby stall, her hands hovering over a bundle of dried herbs. "Do you need anything else before we head back?"

Aerin shook her head, not really hearing her through her roaring thoughts. “I’m fine.”

"You don’t look fine." Mara’s voice was quiet, gentle, but there was no mistaking the concern in her eyes.

Aerin took a long breath, trying to ground herself. “I’m not.” The words came out flat, and Aerin’s eyes flickered away, searching the crowd though she wasn’t really seeing anyone. “But there's nothing I can do about it.”

Mara didn’t press further. She never did. A strong pillar in her stormy life. She only nodded, continuing to sift quietly through the vendor’s offerings, letting the silence settle between them. It was one of the things Aerin valued most about her; Mara knew when to give her space.

Suddenly, the air seemed to shift. Aerin felt it before she saw him; her magic coating her skin. She stilled, heart thudding in her chest as she spotted Elden, weaving through the crowd, his eyes locked on her.

Her stomach twisted. Of course he’d find her here, of all places. The market, usually a place of bustling noise and distraction, suddenly felt too small and narrow and too close.

Mara’s eyes followed her gaze, then flicked back to Aerin. “Do you want me to stay with you?”

Aerin swallowed hard and spoke through gritted teeth, “No. I’ve got it.”

Mara hesitated but gave her a slight nod before slipping away into the crowd. Aerin watched her go, trying to steady herself. Elden stopped just a few feet from her, his expression too hard to read.

“Aerin,” he said, his voice rougher than she remembered from the last time they spoke.

She crossed her arms, trying not to show the tremor in her hands. “What do you want?”

“I didn’t come to fight,” he said, his eyes softening in a way that made her stomach twist again. “I just… I really need to talk to you.”

She scoffed at him, the bitterness spilling out before she could stop it. “Talk? That’s rich, Elden.”

His stare didn’t waver, but there was something in it now— but before she could untangle it he said, “I made mistakes. I know that.”

“Mistakes?” Aerin shook her head, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. “You lied to me. You made me trust you, get close to you and then… this.”

Elden looked down, his jaw tight, as if the weight of her words hit harder than he expected. “I never wanted to hurt you. I knew I would, but I never wanted to.”

“Yet here we are,” Aerin said, her voice quieter now, the anger giving way to something heavier, something closer to grief. “You knew everything, Elden.”

“I didn’t know what else to do,” he admitted, voice low. “I didn’t know how to stop.”

Silence settled between them, thick and uncomfortable, as the noise of the market hummed in the background. Aerin glanced away, unsure of what to say, unsure of what she even wanted from him.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally, and for the first time, it didn’t feel hollow.

“Why should I even bother talking to you?” Aerin said, crossing her arms. “I can’t trust you, Elden. You’ve made that painfully clear.”

Elden stepped forward towards her, his expression dark and unreadable. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’ve come to earn your trust back, not to betray you again.”

“What? Earn my trust?” Aerin scoffed, narrowing her eyes. “That’s rich coming from the man who was sent by the king to kill me.”

He tensed, his muscles rigid with determination. “I have apologized. Do you want to stand there and wallow in your anger?”

Aerin hesitated for a moment, then mirrored him, fists clenched at her sides. “I will show you just how angry I am.”

With a swift motion she lunged at him, throwing a punch aimed at his right shoulder. He dodged fast and easily, stepping to the side, but Aerin was quick to follow up with a spinning kick that he barely blocked. “Impressive,” he said, his tone teasing despite the seriousness of the moment. “But I think you need to work on your footwork.”

“Footwork?” Aerin shot back, frustration fueling her, making her magic roil inside her. “I’ll show you footwork!” She bluffed to the left, then struck right, catching him off guard and landing a solid blow to his side.

Elden grunted loudly, the grin on his face only infuriated her more. “Okay, okay! You’ve definitely improved.”

People around the market had stopped to watch them, some shouted; wanting them to stop.

Aerin squared her shoulders, readying herself for his next move. “You think I could ever forget you lying to me? You’re lucky I don’t want your blood on my hands.”

“Then let’s get through this together. Fight me, Aerin. Show me that you trust me enough to let me fight alongside you, with you.” He shifted and relaxed his stance, watching her closely. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Aerin retorted, throwing another punch that he blocked effortlessly. “How about you betray me again? Or maybe you’ll just stab me in the back while we’re at it?”

“Trust takes time,” Elden replied, dodging her next strike. “Just give me a chance to prove myself to you.”

“Prove yourself?” She launched into a flurry of strikes, frustration pouring out with each movement, her magic coating her hands. “You think an oath is enough to erase the past? I need to know you won’t turn against me again!”

Elden’s expression hardened as he caught her wrist mid-strike, holding her still. “Then make me swear an oath.please, I will do it, Aerin. I swear by everything that I will protect you. I will not betray you again.”

Aerin yelped, her heart raced at the weight of his words. “You’re asking for a lot, Elden. How do I know you mean it?”

“Because I’m willing to fight for you,” he said, his gaze unwavering. “And I’ll fight against anyone who threatens you, even myself.”

Aerin loosened, her shoulders dropping. Her body was exhausted from the anger and fighting. Her heart ached as she slowly dragged her hands through her hair and down her face.

The people around them had resumed to their own lives as they had stopped fighting, the market hummed again with sounds of chatter and wind rustling between the tents.

Aerin’s voice was now low as a whisper, her eyes fixed on the ground. “I can’t do this, Elden. Not anymore. My heart... it needs time to heal.”

Elden clenched his jaw; her words cutting deeper than he expected. “So that’s it? You’re just done?”

She glanced up, her gaze steady but fragile. “I can’t be the same person I was to you. You know that.”

“No,” he scoffed, the bitterness rising in his chest. “You can still be the same, Aerin.”

“You think it is easy?” Her voice cracked, the pain barely held in check. “I can’t keep pretending like I’m fine, like we’re fine. I need time, Elden. Time to... breathe without you suffocating me.”

“I meant what I said, Aerin. I will protect you. Even if it costs me everything.” There was a darkness in his eyes, a shadow of something dangerous and compelling. It frightened her, but it also drew her in, like a moth to a flame.

“Why?” she demanded, her voice trembling. “Why would you risk everything for me?”