He can’t be serious! Why would the Sonatius Mortaeda want to destroy a world in which he himself exists?

“But that ancient being is part of Elindros!” I voice my thoughts aloud, desperately hoping that something might make sense.

Zyar chuckles quietly, but his gaze is cold, almost pitying. “Do you really believe that the Sonatius Mortaeda is bound to Elindros or any other dimension?”

“Then why is he here?” My voice cuts through the silence like a dagger. “And why has he been tied to Elindine for centuries? If he’s not bound, why does he stay? What holds him here?”

Zyar just shrugs, his indifference sending a chill down my spine. “What else should he do? The Sonatius Mortaeda possesses every power, every ability that exists in all dimensions.”

A shiver runs through me at this realization. “That means… he can’t die either,” I murmur, half to myself, half to him.

Zyar nods, as if this were the most obvious truth. “An eternal life, indeed.”

“That must be unbearably lonely,” I blurt out before I can stop myself. “Like Aetherion.” I look at Zyar—does this existence really bring joy? Or is it an eternal torment?

He laughs, a cold, short laugh. “Oh, how wrong you are. This immortality, this endless game with the lives of the Losniw, is his purest pleasure. He revels in their suffering, their despair. Once a vessel grows old and too weak to bear his power, the burden is passed on to the next chosen one. A never-ending cycle.”

My heart tightens. “So, when I grow old, I’ll be freed?”

But Zyar shakes his head, and the cold gleam in his eyes holds no promise of mercy. “The transfer of the Sonatius Mortaeda means death, Ves. Your life ends with the completion of your task.”

“That’s not a task!” My anger flares, hot and searing. “The Losniw have suffered, suffered for a goal that remains unreachable even after centuries! Maintaining peace… that could cost countless lives!”

“So be it,” he responds, without the slightest emotion. “Every being has a purpose. Aetherion, the Sonatius Mortaeda, the Kairon—they all exist to play their roles. So do you.”

“But my mother…” The memory pierces me like an arrow. “My mother resisted this burden! How did she free herself?”

Zyar looks at me as if I had overlooked an obvious truth. “She transferred her burden to her unborn child. The Sonatius Mortaeda agreed to shift the mark from her to you.”

My world begins to tremble. “To me?” I stammer, and the ground beneath my feet suddenly feels fragile. How could she… how could she do that?

Zyar opens his mouth, but the words seem stuck in his throat. Sylas watches us in silence, surely waiting for the conversation to shift in another direction. But this time, I won’t relent. Not now.

“I don’t know,” Zyar admits quietly, as though he had just lifted an invisible weight from his shoulders. “Your mother and I… we were once close friends. She was the strongest warrior of King Valron Feroy. She stood unwavering at his side.”

A sharp pain cuts through my thoughts. “Why were you in the kingdom? What brought you there?” My voice sounds curious, but inside, a strange feeling stirs, as though a truth I can’t yet grasp lurks behind his words.

Zyar takes a deep breath. “You know that we Solniws can control the elements of this world,” he begins, and I nod silently. “But only a few among us can control all the elements. I… was one of them. This gift made me special. The king commanded that I begin training under the Archmage. Without this training, I would have only been allowed to use my first element—air.”

A dark realization dawns on me. The king… could he really dictate what powers a Solniw could use? What right does he have to control another being’s abilities? Was it fear that drove him? Questions pile up in my mind like storm clouds before a tempest.

“How many elements exist in Elindros?” The words leave my mouth as my thoughts accelerate.

Zyar raises a finger, urging me to pause. A moment passes. Sylas watches us from afar, with no more clarity than I have.

Zyar continues walking slowly, his steps leading him through the vast estate, past the shimmering pond. The fish swim lazily in their paths, as if even nature shares the silence that surrounds us.

“Is it wise to leave the Kairon unattended?” The concern in my voice is unmistakable.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Sylas responds immediately: “They don’t reveal themselves to just anyone, you know that. But even in Solnya, where the inhabitants seem trustworthy, there are shadows. False faces lurk around every corner. That’s why I tell you: never speak of the Kairon, Aetherion, or the Sonatius Mortaeda. You’ve lived among humans for 17 years, but here... here, they’ve been waiting for your return for so long.”

My brow furrows, his words sounding like a riddle. “What do you mean by that?”

Zyar’s gaze intensifies as he continues: “Eldralith once made a pact with the Sonatius Mortaeda. She knew that his gift would be catastrophic in the wrong Losniw hands. The Solniws and Losniws are siblings in spirit. The founders of the villages, Rhovan Ardelon and Keldor Entium, were lifelong friends. And Eldralith asked Keldor’s permission to forge this fateful pact. Thus, destiny took its course, inevitable as the tides.”

A silence follows his words, yet the air around us vibrates as if he had just unearthed the foundation of an ancient, forgotten story. And I can’t help but wonder how much more of this burden will fall on my shoulders.

I stare at Sylas, feeling the tension in the air thickening. A crucial detail is still missing, a point that must explain everything that has happened. Then, at last, he speaks, his words heavy with regret.

“After Eldralith became the first vessel of the Sonatius Mortaeda, Keldor Entium was murdered,” he says quietly. “And the one responsible was none other than his own sister: Velris Entium. Keldor used all his energy to keep Eldralith alive after her sacrifice. In his weakened state, Velris seized the opportunity and betrayed him, her own brother, to take his place.”

Shock grips me, disbelief reflected in my eyes. “Her own brother? How could anyone do such a thing?” My thoughts drift to Yula. Despite his cruelty, I would never have done something like that to him, never committed such a level of betrayal.

Sylas continues, his voice urgent: “Keldor was a wise ruler. Alongside Rhovan Ardelon, he sought to preserve peace in Elindros. The Solniws use the elements, while the Losniws have the ability to weave the past of a place or object, to make its memories visible. Both villages stood at the ends of Elindros, in loyal service to King Dareth Feroy at the time. But Velris and other Losniws didn’t understand Keldor’s ideology. They knew that with the power of the Sonatius Mortaeda, the king could be overthrown, and the Losniws could take power. But Keldor never wanted that. After his death, the Solniws broke the alliance with the Losniws.”

I can hardly hide the turmoil inside me. “And what happened to Eldralith?” I ask urgently, crossing my arms.

“Eldralith fled,” Sylas explains with a deep sigh. “But after a few years, she was captured. The king offered the Losniws forgiveness, under the condition that they swear eternal loyalty to him and use the power of the Sonatius Mortaeda only in the name of the royal family. The Losniws despised this proposal, but they knew that Eldralith’s death would be enough to send the Sonatius Mortaeda back. Only a few knew how the bond with this being was possible. But since all the witnesses either disappeared or were found dead, every effort was made to prevent Eldralith from dying.”

“But she did die, and there are still multiple vessels,” I counter, my eyes fixed on him. “Why didn’t they force Eldralith to use her powers to overthrow the king? And how was the new vessel chosen?”

“The Sonatius Mortaeda did not allow it,” Sylas says darkly. “The vessel can grant someone access to his consciousness, the place where the Sonatius Mortaeda resides. He spoke with Velris and revealed that the Losniws would never sit on the throne. You know what happens if the agreement is broken—Elindros and all other dimensions will be destroyed.”

None of this makes sense. What possible motivation could the Sonatius Mortaeda, a being bound neither to Elindros nor any other dimension, have for not unleashing his powers in pure chaos? Zyar himself said that the suffering of all living things is his greatest joy. Something crucial must have happened, something that only Eldralith could have known.

“This just doesn’t make sense, Sylas,” I whisper, my voice tinged with disappointment as I shake my head. “Your history books… they don’t tell the truth.”

“That might very well be the case,” a deep voice suddenly sounds from afar.

It’s Zyar, slowly approaching, holding a thick book bound in dark green leather in his hands.

Without haste, he steps closer, his eyes glowing with a mix of knowledge and restraint as he hands me the book.

“Inside here, you’ll find the history of Elindros,” he explains calmly. “Well, at least the most important events.”

I take the book, but its weight surprises me. It’s as if the knowledge it contains carries a greater burden than any prophecy. Carefully, I place it on the ground at my feet and take a deep breath. A sense of unease settles over me.

“You both told me that the Losniws are forbidden from taking the throne due to their pact with the Sonatius Mortaeda,” I remind the two men, my heart beating faster. “How then can I be the rightful heir?”

A glance between Zyar and Sylas. They know something—something they’ve been withholding.

“Eldralith did say that this was the only demand the Sonatius Mortaeda made,” Zyar begins cautiously, his voice like a creeping wind. “But we suspect she knew deep down that using his power for the throne would give the Losniws the perfect opportunity. A mistake that could bring Elindros to ruin.”

“How could they have done that?” My eyebrows knit together, my suspicion growing. “Eldralith could have simply used the Sonatius Mortaeda's power to wipe out the Losniws.”

Zyar looks to the sky, his face serious and guarded. “Even though her people had betrayed their founder… there were still innocents among the Losniws. She couldn’t bring herself to destroy them all. That’s why she couldn’t unleash Mortaeda’s powers.”

“But do you have any proof of this suspicion?” My voice sharpens, a mixture of desire for clarity and the smoldering doubt burning within me.

They both shake their heads silently. Nothing but speculation. No proof. Which means that ascending the throne could just as easily bring Elindros to ruin.

“And I’m supposed to become the new vessel based on nothing more than a mere assumption? The new queen of Elindros?” A quiet laugh escapes me, but it carries no trace of joy. It’s the desperation slowly creeping into my heart.

All of this feels wrong, unreal, as if I’m still trapped in a dream and any moment I’ll wake up in my room in the human world. But the pain that led me here is too real for this to be just a dream.

And now they want me to help overthrow the king? I don’t know if I can trust them. Not anymore. Maybe they were never on the right side.