Sylas doesn’t stray a single step from my side. His sword in hand, ready to protect me from a danger I can’t see. Does he see something hidden from my eyes? This invisible barrier has sharply triggered his instincts. What has he sensed that I’m missing? Does he fear the Nexari itself – or is there knowledge behind his eyes that he hasn’t shared with me? I know his travels have often led him into this eerie dimension. But how likely is it that he’s encountered the same threat in this boundless void?
“Father!” Sylas calls out, the tension in his voice sharp like the blade he grips. “You who dwell in the Nexari – SHOW YOURSELVES!”
Suddenly, two enormous, emerald-green eyes appear out of nowhere before me. A shock shoots through me like lightning, my heart races, and before I can react, Sylas’s arm wraps firmly around my waist. He quickly pulls me back, away from this unsettling apparition, as if trying to protect me from an invisible threat. Could this be the source of the voice that’s been haunting me for days?
“She smells... fascinating,” the stranger whispers. Her shrill laughter echoes through the vast, endless space, sending chills down my spine. “Sisters, show yourselves.”
And suddenly, two more eyes appear beside the green ones: violet and blood-red. Slowly, the figures reveal themselves. Three young women, about my age, each with skin tones that defy reality – one in pastel pink, another in deep blue, the third in soft turquoise. Their eyes, far too large for their faces, seem to peer deep into my soul. The green-eyed one steps forward.
“What do you want, Synnx?” Zyar asks sharply, his voice cold as he steps protectively in front of Sylas and me.
So, these figures are the Synnx?
“An interesting question, Grand Mage Zyar Velqorin of Solnya,” she responds with a cruel smile.
“Shouldn’t an Elindine justify his presence in the Nexari?” adds the second figure, while the third, the violet-eyed one, mockingly turns to the other sister: “Our guests seem quite rude, don’t you think, Alora?”
“I agree, sister,” Alora replies with a barely noticeable nod.
“We only wish to pass through the Nexari,” Zyar says in a calming tone, trying to defuse the situation. “We need to return to the village.”
“And her?” The violet-eyed one mockingly gestures toward me. “A Solniw with white hair? What element does she control, I wonder?”
Sylas glances quickly at his father. For a fleeting moment, Zyar hesitates before relaxing his shoulders and raising his hands defensively. “We seek no conflict,” he repeats firmly.
But the violet-eyed stranger hisses back: “Your little friend has no permission to be in the Nexari.” She glances at her sisters. “Seraphina, Alora, what do you think? How should we punish the uninvited?”
Seraphina, the one with red eyes, examines me closely. “Interesting, this white hair…” she murmurs thoughtfully. “The last time I saw something like that…”
She falls silent, and the tension in the air becomes palpable. Sylas and Zyar move closer to me, watchful, ready to defend me from this eerie trio, but the cold breath of danger is all around.
Alora’s eyes widen as she looks at her violet-eyed sister. An icy realization strikes her, as if the truth hits like lightning. “Celestara! She’s… a Losniw!” Her voice trembles as if she can hardly believe what she’s saying.
Immediately, Seraphina and Celestara’s heads snap toward me, their gazes piercing into my soul like sharp daggers. The expression on their faces is indescribable – a mixture of curiosity, impending danger, and something sinister that makes my blood run cold. A wave of fear crashes over me, heavy and unstoppable. My body trembles, and Sylas notices. He gently pulls me closer, as if he is my only protection in this increasingly hostile atmosphere.
The air around us changes. It seems heavier, denser, as if it carries the threat emanating from the three sisters.
“Is she… that Losniw?” Seraphina asks curiously, her eyes fixated on me. “The one who possesses the power to control the Sonatius Mortaeda?”
The Sonatius Mortaeda? What does that mean? It sounds foreign and ominous, as if it comes from a time long past. My mind struggles to grasp its meaning, but the words seem too vast, too immense.
“She is,” Alora whispers, her voice cutting through the silence. Suddenly, a broad, terrifying grin spreads across the sisters’ faces. “Finally.”
Like predators spotting their prey, the girls rush toward me. I stand frozen, unable to follow their movements. They are faster than my eyes can track. But suddenly, Zyar pulls out a black pearl necklace from his sleeve and raises it into the air. A dull sound behind me makes me turn – one of the sisters collides with an invisible barrier. It protects us from them, from the danger these girls pose. A quick glance is enough to see that the girl has grown long claws and massive wings. Do they want to harm me, a stranger, without reason?
“I’ve only bought us a little time,” Zyar says gravely. “These Synnx are not peaceful beings. They hate us Elindine and use every trick to achieve their goals. The words of this sister may have confused you, Ves, but do not be afraid. Once we are in Solnya, I will explain everything to you – your origin and your destiny.”
My destiny? What does that mean? Does it have something to do with the Sonatius Mortaeda? Wait… Zyar mentioned a dangerous power before our journey into the Nexari, one feared in Elindros. Is this it?
“Sylas, my son,” Zyar speaks calmly and resolutely, looking at him. “We will combine our powers.”
Sylas nods without hesitation and closes his eyes. I watch as the two of them unleash their energy, even though I don’t understand what’s happening. Zyar takes a deep breath, raises his hand, and blows softly into the empty space before him.
Suddenly, the air around us begins to shimmer, while Sylas stretches his palms upward. Moisture appears out of nowhere, tiny water droplets forming and floating weightlessly in the air. Zyar’s breath, strengthened by the power of the air element, rapidly cools the surroundings. The moist air cannot hold the cold, and the water vapor condenses.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
At that moment, father and son combine their powers: Zyar’s control over the air, which lowers the temperature, and Sylas’s mastery over water, which brings the moisture into the air. Before my eyes, the water droplets transform into a fine mist that wraps around us like a magical veil.
“Ready?” Zyar whispers as the mist thickens, enveloping us and making us invisible, as if it were woven from pure magic. “We’ll use this disguise to slip past the Synnx.”
So, the Solniws can truly control the elements of this world. The thought hangs in the air, but with it come more questions. How do these powers differ from those of Earth? What deep secrets does Elindros hold, hidden beneath its veils of mist?
Zyar raises a finger to his lips, a silent command: no sound, no breath. The mist conceals our bodies, but our voices could betray us. A sign that the power of Sylas and his father has limits. Their control over the elements is strong, but not infallible.
They have merged their powers, yes, but in this union lies weakness. By combining their elements, they sacrifice something of the full power each possesses. They cannot unleash their full potential – their power is great, but limited.
Through the mist, the Astralis cannot be seen, and since it makes no noise, we can follow it without worry. The sisters, who moments ago were beautiful beings, have now revealed their true faces. Angry, they search for the girl who has entered the Nexari without permission.
So, the twilight dimension is reserved only for others? How do the Elindine refer to those who don’t identify with them?
“Where is she?” Alora screeches, grinding her teeth. “These Solniws and their annoying elemental power! Why were the Elindine ever granted access to the Nexari?”
Seraphina, flying above and trying to spot us, responds: “We Synnx are merely the merchants of this dimension. Besides, we should be grateful that these dim-witted creatures are granted access. Do you think other liminal beings would fall for our tricks?”
Liminal beings? Is that what the inhabitants of the Nexari are called? If I followed their conversation correctly, the Elindine were not allowed to enter the twilight dimension in the past? What might have caused this, and who was responsible for the current situation? Who lifted this ban? Is there someone in the Nexari who rules over all others? All these questions need to be answered by my two companions. How long must I remain in the dark?
We follow the Astralis, moving further away from the sisters who are still searching for us. It’s a miracle they can’t hear my racing heart. Yet, I’m not sure if it’s because the Synnx wanted to kill me, or because Sylas is standing so close to me. That I can’t control my emotions in such a situation is proof of my weakness.
Why would Sylas feel anything for me? He only offered me the blood bond because I am the heir to the throne. Surely, I am essential for the realization of his dreams. Sylas must be dissatisfied with the current ruler and hopes that my appearance can change many things in Elindros.
In fact, love is one of the less important topics in my life right now. Soon, the Astralis will lead me to a new world. Elindros is foreign to me, and yet I enter it with the intention of claiming its throne? How can I be the rightful heir? What connection does my mother have to the royal family?
The Astralis glows brightly. Sylas breathes a sigh of relief, and Zyar lifts the veil of mist. I look around paranoid and notice that we have now arrived at a completely different place.
How deeply was I lost in my thoughts? And how could the surroundings have changed so drastically in such a short time?
Just moments ago, I was standing in the midst of a floating paradise, where colors flowed over me like dreams and the air felt as if it were gently embracing me. The ground beneath me was alive—waves of shimmering colors spread with each step, and the strangely spiral-shaped formations around me were almost too beautiful to be real. It felt as if I were in a world that breathed, that lived, where every light possessed its own consciousness. The air was warm, heavy with a feeling that was almost like bliss. But that was before.
As we cross the boundary, reality tears apart around us. The transition is so sharp that it hurts as the heavenly landscape suddenly dies and the Nexari swallows us. The cold is immediate—it does not creep in slowly; it hits me like a blow that robs me of breath. But this is not ordinary cold. It goes deeper, much deeper than earthly cold could. It does not just creep over the skin but crawls inside me, as if freezing my thoughts, interrupting the movement of my emotions.
The sky above us, which had previously pulsed and was alive, has transformed into a rigid, endless void. It is no longer a sky. There are no colors, no movement—only a silent, glaring white that expands in every direction. No horizon, no form to hold on to. It feels as if space itself is disappearing, as if nothing remains but this frosty, glaring nothingness.
The ground beneath my feet is like ice, yet that is too simple a description. It is not merely frozen. It is rigid, lifeless, without texture, and with every step, an inaudible silence spreads that engulfs me. Every step should echo, crunch, yet here there is no sound. It is as if the Nexari itself swallows the noise, drowning it in its emptiness.
I see no more trees. No strange, glowing shapes. Only silhouettes of ice, distorted and broken, like memories that refuse to fade completely. They stand still and mute, as if they once lived, but now they are trapped in a time that no longer flows. Everything here is like a picture frozen in a moment of eternity.
The cold grips deeper. It is not just physical but mental. It suffocates every emotion, dulls every movement until nothing remains but emptiness. The colors that were so vibrant just moments ago have faded, and I feel them wanting to extinguish me—every feeling, every memory, until only silence and ice are left.
And yet, in this infinite emptiness, I feel the presence of something. Something ancient that lurks in the silence. Elindros is full of mysteries, but the Nexari? It is the answer to a question I do not dare to ask.
“What happened to the Nexari?” I ask in astonishment as the icy cold rages around us but strangely does not reach me. It is as if an invisible force shields me from it. Although my clothes are hardly suitable for this frosty environment, I feel a pleasant warmth on my bare arms.
Zyar gazes thoughtfully into the distance, his forehead etched with deep wrinkles. “At a certain point,” he begins, almost as if he is speaking more to himself than to me, “The Nexari changes its vegetation arbitrarily. I have not yet been able to fully decipher the trigger or the right timing.”
“I have so many questions!” I confess, almost pleading, my thirst for answers unbearable. “The Nexari, Elindros, the Synnx, and… my origins from the realm of Losniw.”
Zyar raises a hand, his eyes shining with determination. “Everything in time,” he says as if fate itself is tangible in his words. “First, we must leave the Nexari to protect you from further dangers. Sylas and I may pass through the interdimensional space, but you… we allowed you to enter without permission. The beings of the Nexari are not only highly intelligent; they are also cunning. One of them might be eavesdropping on us right now. The longer we linger here, the more we risk.”
I look around frantically, my eyes searching for the exit. “Where is the entrance to the village?” I ask, looking into the distance, but there is nothing, only the cold that seems to swallow everything. “The Astralis has been hovering for minutes and is not responding to anything.”
Zyar raises a finger, his eyes sparkling seriously. “The Astralis,” he begins in an almost reverent tone, “Is one of the few wonders of Elindros. A unique piece. You must never doubt its powers; it may one day lead you to the light.”
“Me?” I repeat in disbelief, pointing with trembling fingers at myself. “Why should it lead me anywhere? It belongs to you, Zyar!”
He looks at me, his eyes suddenly seeming heavier, full of secrets he has long kept locked away. “The Astralis was entrusted to me,” he reveals softly. “Your mother handed it to me on the night of her disappearance. She said it must one day return to the rightful queen of Elindros.”
My world begins to sway.
“My mother?”
The words come hesitantly from my lips. My heart pounds; my thoughts race. My mother? She… she is not dead?