ELIORA AYLING CHORYTH

The sun rays that pierced the windows of my room managed to force me out of my sleep. Some of them fell on my skin, a gentle reminder that the day had begun without me. I still wanted more sleep, but unfortunately, that was as much as I could get, since I wasn’t the type of person to fall back to sleep after waking up. Though, reluctantly, I managed to sit up on my bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, before walking to the window to bask in the sunlight.

The view from my window was one I struggled to get used to, because it was a stark contrast of what the city really looked like. Evren and I were assigned to Galdor, a city that occupied the northern part of Duskenfell. It was a very peculiar city, the first time that I’d ever seen one like it.

Duskenfell in general, was a rocky region, and mountain ranges scattered all over, with plains and flatlands here and there. But Galdor was strikingly different. Its outskirts was pretty normal, characterized by scattered settlements. Inside the city felt like it was cut from a mountain range, and contained a captivating subterranean cityscape, like it was situated within a vast cavern surrounded by rugged rock formations. Buildings rose majestically, towering at impossible heights, as elevated walkways and bridges crisscrossed between the buildings, connecting different levels of the city. As beautiful as it looked, there were some parts of the city that never saw sunlight, and venturing deep enough would bring one to those places. That part of the city was nicknamed the ‘Dread town.’ Heavy mining activities, coupled with the fact that it was located deep inside Galdor, gave it a consistent dark ambience. Fortunately, our residence was the best I could ask for, as it had an easy access to the outskirts, and more importantly, lots of sunlight.

I took a moment to gather my thoughts, and almost immediately, thoughts of the discovery from the day before flooded my mind like water gushing from a broken dam.

I grabbed my hair, shutting my eyes. The corners of my mouth tightened, and my lips pressed together in a firm disapproving line.

“Nnnnnnooooo,” I bemoaned in disappointment.

The day before, while taking a walk around the city with Evren, I felt changes in the flow of mana within me; like some of it was being siphoned from within. It was a feeling that I was familiar with, and my first reaction was denial. Even Evren picked up on my startled expression and asked if something was wrong. I was left with no choice than to tell the most obvious lie,

“I’m fine,” I said to her.

There was another life inside of me, draining my mana with a gentle viciousness. It was funny how I knew the obvious, yet forced myself to believe otherwise. Somehow, I managed to delude myself into dismissing it, hoping that the sensation would disappear the following day. Now, awake, the sensation remained, edging me into acceptance of the situation.

In just a short span of time, I went through the five stages of grief—except that it wasn’t grief, rather, an errant realization; disappointment replaced anger, and regret took the place of depression.

I was forced to ask myself one question,

“Have I ever done anything right?”

I pondered on the question which forced me to reflect on myself, as I dug up old memories long buried. It was a big deal—reflecting on myself, because I had a spontaneous personality, so, I never really did it. Once in a while, from time to time, I put some thoughts into the contemporary actions I took in the heat of the moment, and if it even made the slightest sense, I went along with it.

The first memory that opened, was a memory of me sitting in a tavern somewhere in Stavren with someone whose face, I could no longer recall. I remembered eating the food he bought me hungrily while he just sat, watching me. He was dressed in a hooded black outfit, so I wasn’t able to make out his facial features, not that it mattered to me at that time. It was a memory I could never forget because it was the first time I’d ever eaten to my fill. The aroma of the roasted meat and freshly baked bread made my stomach churn with excitement. I dug in with my bare hands devouring the food like a hungry wild beast would do to its prey.

Halfway through my meal, someone walked in, and approached our table. That was when I first laid my eyes on Lord Trevor Choryth, Edger’s father. He was very different from his sons, appearance-wise. I remembered looking at a large imposing man, wearing a richly tailored outfit. He was bald, and had a strong build which exuded an authoritative appearance.

Lord Trevor and the hooded man talked for a lengthy period of time. I didn’t know what they talked about, and I wasn’t interested either. The food in front of me had my undivided attention. When their discussion finally ended, the hooded man stood up and left without even saying anything to me. I wanted to at least thank him for the meal, but confusion held me back, and I was scared to ask questions. Then Lord Trevor turned to me, and asked,

“Do you want to come with me, Eliora?”

That was the first time I heard someone call me by a name. Prior to that moment, I didn’t even know I had one. The question Lord Trevor asked me was an offer, one that was too good to reject. I didn’t even know what his motives were, I was young and naive after all. I thought that, since he spoke to me nicely, he shouldn’t be a bad person. So, I nodded slowly in response.

Though I was so young then, I knew how to weigh my options—concluding that whatever life Lord Trevor offered me would be much better than the one I was already living at the children’s refuge home.

My answer to Lord Trevor at the tavern marked the first life-changing decision I ever made. It was a unique one because, though I could say that it was my choice to follow the High Lord, it didn’t seem like I had much of an option. In the end, I grew up well—a noble of House Choryth. I couldn’t have asked for more.

The next memory opened in a dimly lit chamber adorned with tapestries and flickering candles. I stood frozen, my eyes fixed at the lifeless body of the High Lord. My face was etched with grief and disbelief, and it didn’t take long before tears welled from eyes.

Lord Trevor died after a brief illness, and his passing took everyone by surprise because no one thought he would die. Everyone, including me was guilty for not taking his illness seriously. When I first heard he was ill, my exact words were,

“It’s the High Lord; he will recover in no time.”

There was no telling whether his condition could have improved if we took it a bit more seriously, and in the end, he was a victim of his own greatness.

Just before he died, he called for me. I didn’t know it was the last time I got to talk to him.

He requested I poured him a cup of water because he was very thirsty. Though his breathing was laboured, I still believed that he was going to be fine because he didn’t look frail, and had healers attending to him. The words he said to me rendered a different thought, like he knew his end was near.

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I held his hands as he spoke to me.

“I promised your father that I would take care of you, and I did. I am dying, and you need to know the truth.”

His voice strained even more, like he was using every energy left inside of him to speak.

“Your father is alive.”

Those were the last words I heard from Lord Trevor. He died before he could tell me who my father was; one of the many ways the universe toyed with me. I grieved. The man I called father was dead. He gave me a life, he gave me a purpose. So, it was natural that I couldn’t bring myself to come to terms with his death. For a while, I couldn’t find any meaning to life anymore.

It took quite some time, but I was able to get over that grief, thanks to Edger, and slowly, the fondness I had for him turned to love. Everything was fine once again until Edger almost died.

That fateful day, I accompanied the young High Lord to hunt, and we got attacked by the Azkhans, though then, I didn’t know that they were Azkhans. I was their target, and Edger just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Then, I was regarded as the most powerful caster of the Choryth House, even more powerful than Edger, but that day, I faced an enemy much stronger than I was. In the end, we won; thanks to the Azkhans bringing me close to death’s door which unlocked my full potential as an Arcane. Though then, I didn’t know who, or what an Arcane was.

The changes I experienced were both overwhelming and unsettling, forcing me to constantly remember Lord Trevor’s last words. Then I began to think,

“Maybe I don’t belong here.”

Edger asked me to marry him, and I broke his heart in the worst way possible when I declined. The reasons I gave him was a lie. I told him that I was tired of being a noble—that it was suffocating, that I’d never really lived my life, and I wanted to do that. The truth was; I was scared. I didn’t want to be the reason for any misfortune to befall him, because If something terrible happened to him while I was by his side, I wasn’t sure i would be able to live with myself.

But that was only a part of the truth. Another truth was that, I wanted to find my father. It was difficult to live, knowing I was something else, and not understanding what it was. I wanted to find out who I was, and one person who could bring me that clarity was my father.

In the end, I left. I knew my actions were thoughtless and unforgivable to Edger, but his reaction was a surprise. He didn’t ask further questions, and he just simply let me go, accepting it with calmness that felt almost surreal, like it was no big deal. As unexpected as his reaction was, it made leaving easier.

That became the second life-altering decision I made. This time, I had a choice. For the first truth, one might argue that I ran like a coward, but the second truth was a bit more complicated. Some people could just easily give up on their past. I mean, I almost did; I still stayed with Edger even after Lord Trevor revealed that my father was alive. He was never a real person to me, so it was easy to abandon thoughts about him. However, it became difficult when that past began to haunt the present.

The funny thing about all of it was that, in the end, I never truly found the answers I searched for. I travelled far and wide, faced many difficulties and overcame them, survived many life ending situations, but the one thing I really wanted to find was out of reach for me. It got to a point where it felt like I was just chasing circles, and in the end, I gave up.

Although I never found my father, the journey made me understand myself a bit. I gained a lot of knowledge about myself as an Arcane through personal experiences. So, I reassured myself that the journey wasn’t vain.

Exhausted, I wanted to go back to the place I called home. Though it was a shameless thought, I still clung to the hope that Edger would forgive me. Unfortunately, that hope shattered upon realizing that Edger had long moved on—he had married Lady Yulvia of House Thorn. Even though it was an outcome that was well within my expectations, for the first time in my life, I was heartbroken. I felt a different kind of pain, and I couldn’t help but marvel at how Edger managed to contain his own hurt. I tasted my own medicine, and oh boy it was bitter.

Another memory opened. This time, I watched in horror as an Azkhan lieutenant dragged the dead body of my late husband.

Just when I thought I’d found peace; living as any normal person would, my identity still found a way to haunt me. There and then, I knew that I would always be a danger to myself and anyone around me. My children were innocent, and they didn’t have to suffer from the things that haunted me. I needed to protect them, I needed to keep them safe, which meant I needed to keep them away from me. There was only one person I could trust to do that for me, and that was Edger.

Staying away from my children was yet another decision that weighed heavily on me, and I constantly reminded myself that it was a sacrifice I had to make, to keep them safe. Whenever I found myself in a dangerous situation, I felt a sense of relief knowing that they weren’t with me. But being a mother brought a different set of emotions. No matter how hard I tried, they were always in my thoughts; it was impossible to just abandon them.

The thought of not seeing them again or knowing their whereabouts would have genuinely driven me crazy. So I secretly checked on them from time to time. I watched them grow from a distance—just close enough to feel connected, yet far enough to shield them from any harm that I could inadvertently bring to them. Each glimpse brought me joy and pain, a bittersweet reminder of the love I have for them, and the choices I had to make.

Then, somehow, Svan found his way back to me; an event that even I, couldn’t explain. It was natural that I started to believe that once again, the universe was playing with me; as if fate was challenging me to a game. Svan’s sudden appearance forced me back to Edger, and into the lives of my children. Though I could say that a lot changed, in the end, I was back to where I started.

Almost as if it was timed to perfection, a secret war that had been going on for quite some time escalated the moment I returned. It was impossible to stay away from them anymore, because the same people I tried to protect them from, found their way to them.

Ironically, this war was the genesis of my problems, because elements within it made me realize that I was different, forcing me to leave home in search for answers. No matter how far I ran, it chased after me relentlessly, and forced me to abandon everyone I loved just to keep them safe. The irony deepened because in the end, I joined the side that was responsible for my misery. It felt like a cruel twist of fate, entangled in the very chaos I sought to escape.

Reality was complicated. Though the Azkhans made my life miserable, it wasn’t because I was singled out as a threat; they went after other Arcanes too. I had no idea why they started this war, assuming they were the ones that started it, but it was only natural they eliminated those they perceived as threats. Their actions forced me to do what I had to do to survive; same survival that made me fight on their side.

Even though I fought for the Azkhans against the Imperium, I had no love lost for them. If a situation should arise, forcing me to fight against them, I wouldn’t stress about it.

I sighed and asked myself,

“What meaning does life hold?”

It was just a journey that started with birth and ended with death. A journey that we were forced into; because no one asked to be born. Then we are expected to find a purpose, one that would guide us through the journey. It wasn’t all, because we were also constantly forced to make decisions that paved the way during the journey.

If that was all to it, then it was easy because it meant that the life we lived was completely in our control. But that wasn’t the case, there were always things beyond our control.

I believed that the life we lived was largely predetermined, and certain outcomes were inevitable, regardless of what actions or choices we made. Some events were too interconnected to be called coincidences. Sometimes, they had a funny way of manifesting; an obvious indication that something otherworldly played a major part in ones life.

True, the decisions I made had led me to this point in my life, but the fact that I was born an Arcane was something I had no control over—something predetermined by fate, something that set my life on this course it followed. And that was just one of the many strings that fate had pulled in my life. In the end, the decisions we made were just options we chose, which would ultimately lead to a predetermined destination.

I sighed again,

“Why does it matter if I’d made the right or wrong decisions so far? All I did was to choose from the options fate presented me with—one I believed would ensure my survival, and the survival of the ones I love.

I held my belly with my right hand. The little one inside me was the reason I went down this spiral of thoughts. I panicked, thinking it wasn’t right to bring a new life into such chaos; we were at war, in a volatile situation, and the future was uncertain. But when did certainty ever become a given? We lived our lives shrouded in uncertainties.

Thankfully all three children of mine were tough and incredibly strong. Whenever I looked at them, I was given a reason to carry on, no matter the situation. This situation was no different, and now, I wasn’t alone.

Rubbing my belly, I whispered,

“I am sorry for thinking that it wasn’t right to have you. Forgive this foolish mother of yours.”