⋆༺𓆩Chapter Two𓆪༻
⋆༺𓆩Nazira Ansar𓆪༻⋆26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWsyYOFVoXq
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Three days before the destruction of the Aspey Mortal villages-
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"Come on—" Cyra laughed across the lake, powerfully stroking through the water.
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I struggle to mimic her, my arms flailing beneath the surface, splashing water all around before I break through the surface, gasping for air. Hair clinging to my face, my hands frustratingly push the strands back behind my ear and out of my eyes, narrowed and irked as she glances over at me.
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"Oh Gods, you're hopeless."
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"You're a monster," I muttered. Water is dripping down my back.
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She grins.
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I frown.
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Valoel Lake is usually bustling with other kids for a swim or for food, but with the sun only setting now, it was barren, and besides, the people who think of coming here are often too wary of it to do so. I've never ventured beyond the village, nor has Cyra. Our maps end at the rushing stream, a boundary none of us have dared to cross.
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The stories and warnings from our elders have been enough to keep us contained since childhood. Yet, whispers of what lies beyond have always sparked our curiosity.
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Some believe it's an empty wasteland; others think it's a haven... or a burning hell that is waiting before them. And despite the rather strong warning, some dare to leave. Their bones tend to wash up the stream soon after.
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Our father was one of them.
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A late night in his study turned into weeks, and soon enough he was consumed by it. Knowledge was a dangerous thing, something he craved so very much it turned into an obsession for stories woven from lies and heretics consuming his soul until the man, once my father, was gone—living in the cursed pages he so worshiped.
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So, like all great and terrible ballads go, he left and paid his debt to us with his death.
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"Go again." She said, "You can't drown this young after all; it would be quite boring being an only child so soon."
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She pushes me deeper into the waters, laughing as I gasp, kicking around the cool waters…
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The south stream was vital, acting as a barrier across the land; the freezing waters and high mountains only helped us more.
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Some say it's been there for centuries, some millennia; stories and myths of ancient Aspye were never documented, and the old souls who told their own stories no doubt passed on for generations, only decayed and withered with time. leaving the human need for deception to corrupt them or get rid of them altogether. Scrolls were never made, and thus neither was our history.
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Records were new, and academies were newer; however, only monarchs could study in them, and higher nobles could if they were lucky—or unlucky—enough to find their way into the palace through titles, power, bravery, or their own stupidity.
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Either way, knight or commoner, queen or servant, the courts were treacherous to all who entered, which only made people all the more curious about the palace of the merciless king, murderer of King Jarrah, his brother, and killer of the queen Elara, the wife he was promised.
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But word of mouth is easily corrupted. This was most likely no different.
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As the sun begins its descent, painting the lake in vivid hues of orange and red, a gasp escapes me. As I push through the cool water, taking in the peace before the storm after a while...
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I dragged myself onto shore, my eyes narrowed. "Never—" I pant "Again."
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She pulls me up. "Never again... Okay, maybe every fortnight until I'm certain, but—"
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"We should head back," I said, shouldering my basket laden with berries and bread. "It'll be sundown soon, and the last thing we need is to be out here after dark.
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Hunters were usually out after dark, and it wouldn't be the first time a person was mistaken for a beast worth hunting in the woods. And with the prince's coronation falling on this solstice, there was no doubt that all animals that were spotted here would be slain for a feast.
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Our family had one court gown, decades old and probably just as worn... But if I never had any use for it, she could at least wear it.
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I owed her that much.
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I sigh, folding up the picnic blankets. "I'll make you a deal... The day you turn...17...I'll bring you"
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Her eyes lit up before a frown overtook them. "I'll be dead by then!" She complained, kicking a rock in the lake only for it to sink beneath the currents.
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But I only laugh, picking a berry from the basket and throwing it at the back of her head; she groans, her eyes shifting back to mine before I tread down the gravel path, laughter seeming to shake the trees as she sprints after me with malice.
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"Nazira!"
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And maybe—
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Things could be better for her—for us.
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Just this once.
⋆༺𓆩𓆪༻⋆
Our village is hidden deep in the forest, a secret from the rest of the world. A sanctuary we’ve never left and a refuge against something we’ll never know. But surprisingly, I found peace in it. Cyra never did—and that frightened me more than I could ever admit, more than my soul would ever utter, even under the dark cover of the night I so very clung to.
As the sun set, we walked through the gravel, weaving between the tall pines; the last golden rays filtered through the branches, casting flickering patterns onto the dirt path.
By the time we reached the outskirts of Kritia, the sky was scattered with stars.
Home.
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