Arlena always thought that the looming battle was written in the stars and that only spilt blood could return their promised land to her kinfolk. But what if there was another way to claim Jewarta?
They had once been allies, her race and the wizards, and it could happen again.
There had to be more people like Derrick out there, and something told her that the late prince, even Gavon himself, although he acted indifferently towards her, wanted to restore peace with the sorcerers rather than repeat history and commit genocide. That was why they helped her and taught her magic – she had not a shadow of a doubt.
She had been given the gift of sorcery as part of a grand scheme, and while she did not know the whys or the hows, she knew that both Kiano and Derrick were also part of it. A powerful force had brought them together – the three of them.
Her eyes wandered from Derrick to Kiano at that very moment. There was something about him that kept her on pins and needles. He was a sorcerer like herself, yet there was something about him that seemed so unfamiliar.
She couldn’t tell what it was. He was one of them, that was all she could say for sure, and even though he was supposed to reek of ashes, he did not. He smelled of nothing in particular; in fact, this was why his presence confused her at first, and she couldn’t figure out why. Kiano was probably not aware of this himself.
How did he even manage to move that boulder without being detected by the trolls, not to mention that moving something so huge required more than basic sorcery to accomplish? Nothing made sense. Something was—the mythical dragon sprung to her mind out of the blue.
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Startled, she shuddered in place and tried to shake the dire thoughts off her distraught mind. She felt at once how her whole body grew weak. The seal was broken; the chains that kept her mother a prisoner in the Hezakhal Dungeon were no more.
The war had begun, and it was here to stay. But for the first time in forever, she doubted herself and her role in all of this. She wanted Jewarta. She wanted her kin to return to their promised land more than anyone, but not through a bloodbath if she could afford it, and sooner or later she had to make a grave decision. It was either her kin or those who had caused the untimely death of her father and deceased brother, whose name she now used as her own.
But Derrick, the late Sirahael, and Gavon were good people. She wanted to hold on to every bit of hope left in this wicked world and wish upon the stars for a miracle. There were more humans out there who wanted to restore peace with them – and not repeat what should’ve never taken place. This bloody war between the godly siblings, the Queen and the Almighty, was not theirs to fight.
It all began at the crack of dawn with the birth of Yiraál and the Seven Seas. The Almighty created this vast land and all the living beings in it for his entertainment, but his children, the humans, were cruel and greedy.
They harmed everything around them: they buried their daughters alive, they tortured their sons until they roamed the boundless nights and committed murder and rape like maniacs. That was when the Queen created her own children to balance out the evil.
For many moons, her children and the humans lived together in peace, and the balance between good and evil had been restored. But it didn’t last. It ended with the betrayal of the wizards and the massacre of thousands of innocent children who were attacked in their sweet slumber.
She wiped away a trickling tear and turned around as the night deepened and nodded off not long after.