Arion stood near the back of the hall, next to Rezar. The atmosphere was tense, charged with the simmering frustrations of the gathered eldest masters. He kept his face composed, but his mind churned with anxiety. Eldrion’s sudden death, Theron’s hasty coronation, everything had happened too fast. It felt as if they were on the precipice of something, and the ground was crumbling beneath their feet.
The eldest master healer, was the first to speak, her voice thin and sharp as she gestured with a bony hand.
"This cannot go on. We cannot continue to be humiliated like this. First, our healers were dismissed from the palace, thrown out without a reason, then came the insult at the burial ceremony. And now, for the first time in recorded history, the temple was not present at the coronation of the new king of Aetheria!"
Her eyes flicked around the room, searching for agreement, landing momentarily on Arion before moving on.
The Grand Overseer, Omid Faris, raised a hand to calm her. His presence was one of quiet authority, his voice a measured cadence of patience and wisdom.
“The new king is young. He is still mourning his father in his own way, lashing out at anything he perceives as an enemy. He needs time, and we need to be wise. It would do us no good to provoke a civil war.”
His gaze swept the room, steady and commanding, yet his eyes were shadowed with worry.
Rezar’s expression, by contrast, was thunderous. He stepped forward, his armor-clad frame casting a broad shadow over Arion.
“How much more time do we give him, Grand Overseer?” he demanded. “Each day he grows more reckless than the last. Forcing our healers out was one thing, but barring us from the coronation? That’s an insult we can’t ignore.”
“It’s not just the King’s disregard for the Temple,” the eldest master of the scribes interjected. His thin lips were pressed into a frown, hands rising in frustration. “He denied entry to King Adir of Kerios. The man crossed the desert only to be turned away at Aetheria’s gates. That’s more than a slight, Grand Overseer—it’s a declaration of hostility between kingdoms. We rely on Kerios for the green sand that powers our gauntlets, our weapons, our city’s lights. If relations sour, Aetheria will be crippled.”
Omid inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the point.
“We have enough reserves to last through a short conflict, if it comes to that,” he said, voice measured. “But yes— King Theron’s actions are reckless.” His brow furrowed as if weighing some distant, troubling thought. “The King must understand that we are not his enemies, but his allies. If he keeps forcing our hand, he will only deepen the divide.”
Arion’s mind raced as he listened. The King’s behavior was becoming increasingly erratic—that much was clear. But Adir’s presence outside the gates seemed deliberate, almost calculated. Before he realized it, he was speaking.
“King Adir wasn’t here just for diplomacy,” Arion said. “He came to see his niece; Elara. She is his only surviving blood from Queen Mara’s line.” His eyes swept the room as several masters turned their attention toward him. “If the King doesn’t come to his senses, this could escalate quickly. We can’t afford to sit idle.”
The Overseer’s gaze softened slightly. “Hmmph. We cannot let speculation guide us,” he said. “We must tread carefully with the Palace but neither can we afford to alienate King Adir further. A war with Kerios is not something Aetheria deserves.”
Rezar muttered under his breath, and Arion caught fragments, “family squabble” and “foolish boy.” His frustration was palpable, and though Arion shared it, it didn’t ease the knot in his chest. How had things fallen apart so fast?
Rezar straightened. “Last I heard from our wardens at the city gates, King Adir has departed but his delegation remains camped outside, awaiting an audience with the new King. As we speak, they’re still there. And those gates are under the Temple’s watch.”
Omid drew in a deep breath, as if steeling himself. “We cannot let the King’s recklessness drag us into ruin. If he refuses to listen, then he must bear the weight of his actions alone.”
A murmur of unease rippled through the chamber. The master scholar looked particularly pale, his fingers twitching nervously at the hem of his robes.
“But if we withdraw,” he said, voice trembling, “the King might take it as a direct challenge. It could make things worse.”
The Overseer shook his head. “If we do nothing, we continue to insult the Keriosi delegation—and the young King will go on treating us like pawns. We must show that we can act independently, yet remain willing to negotiate.”
He turned to Master Guardian Rezar. “Order our temple custodians to withdraw from their post at the city gates. The Temple will not take part in this insult against Kerios.”
Then his gaze shifted to the Master Scribe. “Prepare a scroll for the King. State clearly why we are withdrawing and urge him to open a dialogue. Let there be no doubt about our intentions.”
His voice lowered, thoughtful but firm. “I hope this gesture will prompt the King to meet us at the table—and speak with reason.”
The chamber broke into hushed debates and uneasy glances, but Omid’s decision was final. One by one, the elders and masters filed out, their faces etched with unease and resolve.
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As Arion stepped out into the cool corridor beyond the chamber with Rezar, the gravity of what had just transpired weighed heavily on his shoulders.
"Arion!" He was barely out of the chamber when he heard his name being called. Kaelen was striding towards him, a look of urgency on his face.
“Arion, I need to speak with you. It’s important.” Kaelen’s voice was a rushed whisper, the kind that sent a shiver down Arion’s spine.
He exchanged a quick glance with Rezar, who nodded curtly before heading off in another direction. Then, with a sense of foreboding settling in his gut, Arion turned to Kaelen, bracing himself for whatever news his friend was about to deliver. Kaelen handed Arion the folded piece of parchment, his face tight with concern.
"Nara brought this. She looked distressed," Kaelen murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Arion’s brow furrowed as he took the letter, noting the rushed seal he recognized all too well. He moved to a quieter corner of the corridor, his hands steady as he broke the seal. Unfolding the parchment, his eyes scanned Elara's familiar handwriting. It was precise but hurried, the ink smudged in places as if written with a trembling hand.
Arion,
I may not get another chance to send this, I talked to father, he was hesitant at first, but I convinced him to meet you. We spoke that night, and he seemed more at peace than I had seen him in a long time.
But the next morning, he was found dead. They said it was his heart, that he passed in his sleep, but I wasn’t allowed anywhere near him... Theron had him buried so quickly.
Theron has taken control of everything. He won't even let me leave my chambers, he has assigned guards posted outside my door day and night. When Uncle Adir arrived, Theron refused to let him in. I don't understand any of it, and I’m afraid to question him. I feel trapped, Arion. I have so many thoughts crossing my mind at once, but I don’t know who I can talk to, who to trust and I don’t know what to believe anymore.
I know you can’t change what’s happening, but you at least needed to know the reason for my extended silence since Luminara. Sending this letter could cost Nara her life, so this might be the last time I can reach out to you.
I’m sorry for everything.
I couldn’t say goodbye to my father but I had to make sure I didn’t make the same mistake with you.
Yours till my last breath,
Elara
Arion’s eyes lingered on the last line. The parchment seemed to grow heavier in his hands, each word pressing down on his chest like a stone. Elara’s fear and isolation seeped through every word, and it was all he could do to keep his expression calm as he looked back at Kaelen.
“Where’s Nara?” he asked, "Tell me you didn't let her go without a response," his voice tight.
“I didn't, she's just outside the temple,” Kaelen replied, glancing toward the entrance. “With Kony. She’s waiting for your word.”
“Take me to her. Now.” Arion said as he started walking while crumpling the letter and tucking it into his robes pocket.
***
Arion and Kaelen moved swiftly through the shadowed corridors of the temple, their footsteps echoing off the ancient stone walls as they made their way outside. The courtyard was quiet, bathed in the soft moonlight.
Nara sat beneath the old banyan tree, her posture slumped, and beside her, Kony leaned against the bark, his young face creased with worry. The air felt heavy, laden with unspoken words and tension.
“Nara,” Arion called as they approached, his voice tight with urgency. She looked up, her eyes rimmed with exhaustion. “What is the meaning of this? What exactly is happening at the palace?”
Nara glanced at Kony before meeting Arion’s gaze. “Everything changed overnight with the King’s death,” she began, her voice low and strained. “Theron’s mother, Thenna, never liked Elara. Everyone knew that. But King Eldrion always protected her, made sure she had her place.”
Nara paused, trying to find words before the floodgates opened, “Now… now, it’s like the wolves have been let loose. Theron’s influence is everywhere, and Elara is alone. They watch her like she’s a criminal in her own home. Royal guards at every corner, following her every step.”
Arion felt a surge of anger rise within him, his hands curling into fists. “And no one does anything about it?”
“We don’t know who to talk to,” Nara said, shaking her head. “Who we can trust. My own sister has…” She paused, gathering herself. “Theron has eyes and ears all over the palace. Anyone who opposes him won’t be around for long. I had to sneak out with this letter, I couldn’t trust anyone else to get it to you. But I also didn’t want to return to the Princess empty-handed.”
Arion clenched his jaw, his mind racing. “This isn’t right,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Elara shouldn’t have to live like this.”
“There’s nothing we can do,” Nara said, her voice breaking slightly. “We’re powerless. He’s the King.”
Arion paused, his thoughts churning. The recent events, the way everything had unfolded so quickly felt wrong.
“From what I’ve heard,” Arion began, his tone thoughtful, “King Adir left his emissaries camped outside the city walls when he departed.” He spoke slowly, piecing the thought together. “They’re waiting for a response from Theron.”
His eyes narrowed as an idea took shape. “If Elara could reach them, they might be able to get her to safety —to the Kingdom of Kerios.”
Nara’s eyes widened, a glimmer of hope breaking through her despair. But then she hesitated, glancing at Kaelen. “But if she leaves… she may never be able to return. Theron won’t allow it. She’d be a fugitive.”
Kaelen exhaled, his voice quiet but firm. “And that means you might never see her again.”
Arion closed his eyes for a moment, letting their words settle. The thought of never seeing Elara again cut deep, like a blade twisting in his chest. But the image of her grieving, isolated and trapped under Theron’s rule was unbearable.
“At least she’ll be safe in Kerios,” he said steadily. “I won’t let her suffer like this. Theron is unhinged. The whispers of sorcery, the King’s sudden death, the rushed coronation…” He shook his head. “None of this feels like coincidence. This all seems like a careful plan for something far worse.”
“He could use Elara as a bargaining chip for whatever he’s planning against Kerios,” Arion added, his hand resting on his chin. “I can’t sit here idly and allow that.”
Nara nodded, fear and understanding in her eyes. “Even if you’re right, how do we get her to the Keriosi emissaries outside the gates? She can’t even leave her chambers.”
Silence hung for a moment, until a clear, youthful voice cut through it.
“It’s simple,” Kony piped up, his tone matter-of-fact. “We rescue the Princess!”
Arion turned to look at him, surprised by the simplicity of his words. Kony’s face was earnest, a spark of determination in his eyes. And somehow, the sheer audacity of it made sense. But the risks were staggering.
Arion’s gaze shifted to Kaelen and Nara, seeing the uncertainty and fear mirrored in their expressions.
“It won’t be easy,” Arion began, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. “But we have to try. For Elara.”
He took a deep breath, the weight of what he was about to ask settling heavily on his shoulders. “Are you with me on this?” he asked, his eyes moving from Nara to Kaelen, then to Kony.
Kaelen swallowed hard but nodded. “I’m with you. To the end.”
Nara looked down, a flicker of fear crossing her face, but when she looked up again, there was a fierce resolve in her eyes. “Anything for Elara.”
Kony grinned, his youthful exuberance a stark contrast to the gravity of the situation. “Always with you, Arion.”
Arion exhaled slowly, nodding to each of them in turn. “Then here’s what we’re going to do...”
The plan began to form in his mind. Dangerous and reckless, but it was their only hope. As they stood together beneath the pale glow of the moon, a quiet determination settled over them.
They would rescue Elara, no matter the cost.
***