This melody was beautiful. I find myself back in the Nexari. While Zyar watches me curiously from above, Sylas kneels before me once again, carefully supporting me without making too much contact. He respects my request to maintain physical distance, and for that, I am grateful. Around us, the dense mist created by my companions’ combined powers continues to swirl.

  “Did you meet her?” Zyar asks eagerly. Sylas helps me to my feet and lets go immediately when he sees I can stand on my own. Suddenly, Zyar shakes his head urgently. “No time for such questions. The Astralis will soon create a passage to Solnya for us. We can only hope the Synnx don’t break through to us in the meantime.”

  I’m back. But how long was I gone? It feels as though mere minutes passed in the Astralis, while only moments slipped by in the Nexari. Are the Synnx still somewhere here, lying in wait for their chance? Should I confront them? Perhaps they could share information that would be helpful. No, that’s absurd! What am I even thinking? These sisters won’t just sit down with me and answer my questions.

  “LOSNIW!” A distant scream pierces the air – the voice of one of the three sisters.

  “The mist is losing strength,” Zyar notes irritably. “Why does the Astralis take so long?”

  Through the mist, I now see three silhouettes. They spread their wings, claws glowing menacingly. Aurora, Celestara, and Seraphina! Fear grips me once more. Their very presence forces me to trust in Zyar’s words.

  The moment I make this decision, the Astralis begins to shine brightly. Aetherion has been waiting for my choice? So that’s what she meant when she said she’d always light a path for me to follow.

  “YOU CAN’T HIDE THE LOSNIW FROM US FOREVER!” Celestara screeches, her rasping voice cutting through the mist. “EVENTUALLY, YOU WILL HAVE TO ENTER THE NEXARI. YOU ELINDINE ARE SCUM! YOU SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN ALLOWED IN!”

  Then comes cruel laughter – wicked, taunting. These seemingly beautiful creatures reveal themselves as terrifying beings.

  “These Duskborn are not to be trifled with,” Zyar hisses, stepping closer to the Astralis, which is already opening a gateway to Solnya.

  Duskborn? So that’s what the inhabitants of the Nexari are called? An interesting choice of name. In that moment, a bright light flares, and Zyar steps through it. Sylas casts a quick glance at me to ensure I’m following. I nod, take a step forward – and suddenly, the mist parts.

  Seraphina’s eyes meet mine. The three sisters seem momentarily confused, but then they realize their opportunity. With breathtaking speed, they lunge at me. Their faces rush closer and closer.

  Before I can react, Sylas grabs me, wrapping his arm around my torso and lifting me effortlessly. Together, we leap through the portal Aetherion has opened.

  “NO!” Celestara screams, reaching out for us as she flies after us. But the portal closes faster than she can reach us. The moment we’re through, a sharp pain sears through my head. “That should suffice,” I hear her malicious voice once more before it finally fades away.

  The sounds and shadows of the Nexari vanish, and I realize we are no longer there. Once again, that strange transition occurs, where the landscape around us changes at dizzying speed. But this time, I feel neither nausea nor dizziness. The throbbing pain in my head demands all my attention.

  “Oh no, they ripped out a strand of your hair,” Sylas remarks, pointing to the spot where the pain lingers. Instinctively, I raise my hand to it.

  “The Synnx are the merchants of the Nexari for a reason. Their keen sense of smell makes them excellent scouts and trackers,” he explains seriously. “Those three sisters are definitely working for someone who’s after you.”

  “Someone’s after me?” I repeat, startled. I signal Sylas to put me down, and he does so without hesitation. “You mean someone hired them to find me?”

  Sylas shrugs. “I can’t say for sure, Vespera. But there are reasons to suspect it. The vessels of the Sonatius Mortaeda have always been feared. Some Elindine honor their sacrifices for Elindros, but there are others who want to misuse the power of the primal being. To them, you’re an obstacle.”

  I nod slowly. His words make sense.

  Suddenly, a strong gust of wind tugs at my hair, forcing me to raise my arm to shield my face. After a few seconds, the wind softens, becoming more like a refreshing breeze, and a crisp hint of mint fills the air. I take a deep breath before lifting my gaze.

  In front of me stretches a vast field of mint. At the edge stands a house, two or three stories tall. Compared to the royal palace I once knew, it seems modest, almost tiny. The black facade absorbs the last light of the day. Around twenty windows break up the dark surface of the building, and a wrought-iron fence surrounds the property. Through the bars, I catch glimpses of other houses in the distance, silent witnesses to our arrival. The sky, painted a deep red, heralds the approaching night.

  “Breathtaking,” I whisper, unable to tear my eyes away. The scene captivates me completely. “Is this... Solnya?”

  Sylas nods, a proud smile playing on his lips. “Exactly! Solnya is a wonderful village! You’re going to love the Solniw. They’re incredibly hospitable.”

  Zyar chuckles. “Impressed by my humble abode? And you’ve only seen a fraction of the village.”

  “Why did you even go through the portal first?” I snap, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m sure the Synnx broke through to us because your powers stopped maintaining the mist!”

  Zyar raises an eyebrow. “You had enough time to follow me before the barrier collapsed. Why did you hesitate for so long?”

  “You could have warned me!” I scold. “How was I supposed to know something like that would happen?”

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  “When bloodthirsty Synnx are after you, it’s only natural not to wait,” he replies indifferently. The tension between us is palpable, but he abruptly changes the subject. “Enough with the blame. We have more important matters to address.”

  The men walk ahead, and I follow as we approach the house. Behind us, the light brown trees of the forest fade from view. The refreshing scent of the mint field gives way to a new scene: a vast, silent pond.

  The water glimmers red in the evening light. Two fish circle one another, black and white, Yin and Yang. One has a white spot on its forehead, the other a black one.

  “These fish are called Kairon,” Zyar explains flatly. His gaze remains cool, but I sense that my earlier words hit a nerve.

  “Breathtaking,” I whisper again, my eyes fixed on the strange pair. “But what kind of fish are they? I’ve never seen anything like them before.”

  “The Kairon exist only in Elindros,” Zyar explains. “They originate from the oldest of times. Noctalis”—he points to the white fish—“symbolizes the eternal night. And Solaria”—he gestures toward the black one—“represents the fleeting day. Together, they maintain the balance of this dimension.”

  “I don’t quite understand,” I admit, furrowing my brow.

  Sylas adds, “Noctalis stands for death, Solaria for life. Their balance is essential to ensure that neither gains dominance. They reveal themselves only rarely, and for good reason.”

  “Why to me?” I ask softly, unable to tear my eyes away from the fish.

  Sylas gestures toward the Astralis in my hand, once again in my possession. “The Astralis, Vespera,” he says quietly, his voice resonant. “Noctalis and Solaria recognize it. They know that anyone near the Astralis is trustworthy.”

  “So, the Kairon are somehow connected to the Astralis?” I ask thoughtfully.

  Zyar interjects, his words precise as blades. “Elindros is a dimension filled with countless ancient forces. Such an order cannot be maintained by one being alone.”

  “Noctalis and Solaria restrain the darkness,” I murmur as the weight of his words sinks in. “But why also the light?”

  “Too much light can breed hubris, dear Vespera,” Zyar explains with calm insistence, his gaze shifting to Solaria. “Light is more than a symbol of good. It represents power, wealth, and the sense of possessing everything one’s heart desires. Yet not everyone can share in it, and those who revel in it may succumb to pride.”

  His gaze shifts to Noctalis. “Darkness, on the other hand, can lead to bitterness and madness. Those who linger in it too long become blind and numb, willing to do anything to return to the light—even if they’ve long forgotten what it feels like.”

  I frown, my voice quiet. “How am I supposed to understand that?”

  Zyar’s voice softens to a near whisper. “Darkness is the absence of light, and light the absence of darkness.”

  My thoughts drift to the inevitable foe of all living beings—death. “But every life must end eventually,” I say, more to myself than to him.

  Zyar nods slowly, his gaze heavy. “Indeed. But the Kairon are unique. They can traverse between worlds—from the physical reality of Elindros to an astral or spiritual plane. However, they only do so when the balance is in danger.”

  “And what happens then?” I ask, a hint of fear in my voice.

  Zyar hesitates, as if answering saps some of his strength. “That I cannot tell you. This phenomenon occurs only once in the lifetime of the Kairon.”

  “But if these fish can’t speak, how do you know about their purpose?” My confusion feels like a dense fog enveloping me.

  A faint smile crosses Zyar’s face. “Your mother, Isilyn, enlightened me. She was the keeper of the Astralis and was in contact with Aetherion. But even she did not receive all the answers she sought.”

  “If the Astralis can find any Losniw, why did it choose me?” I ask, the weight of all these questions growing heavier. “Why did it wait so long for me? Aetherion said my mother passed the Astralis to me. Why not someone else?”

  “So, you spoke with Aetherion?” Zyar notes, nodding thoughtfully. “Did she tell you anything about your mother’s whereabouts?”

  Why is he so interested in her? I could have discussed countless other topics with Aetherion, yet he asks about her. Why?

  I shake my head and finally say, “She didn’t speak to me for long. She only told me about Eldralith Entium and that I am now the vessel in my mother’s place. But why me?”

  “Not every Losniw is worthy of carrying the Astralis,” Zyar explains, a sudden sadness in his voice. “Your mother and you share a destiny she could not fulfill.”

  I look at him intently. “A destiny?”

  Zyar exchanges a brief glance with Sylas. Silence. It speaks of sorrow and an unspoken truth.

  “The Sonatius Mortaeda,” Zyar finally says, his voice as soft as a breeze. The name itself seems to shake the world. “The Sound of Death. An ancient being, more powerful than Aetherion and the Kairon. It is a nightmare without form, with enough power to bring Elindros to its knees.”

  A cold shiver runs down my spine. The words of the Synnx—they said I was the one destined to tame this being. But how? Me, weak and inexperienced, against a primeval entity?

  “Why would anyone want to control the Sonatius Mortaeda?” I ask, my voice strained. “It’s stronger than all the Elindine combined.”

  “Because greed for power knows no bounds,” Zyar replies darkly. “The Sonatius Mortaeda promises power that could destroy the balance. But the Losniw sensed that only they had a connection to it. Eldralith Entium, your ancestor, dared to seek it out.”

  The name echoes in my mind. Eldralith Entium. Her blood flows through my veins.

  “No one knows where she found it,” Zyar continues. “Perhaps the location was hidden to protect it from those with malicious intent. Eldralith offered her body as a vessel to seal its powers.”

  “That couldn’t have been so simple!” I shake my head in disbelief. “Such a powerful being would listen to a girl?”

  Zyar raises a warning finger. “The Sonatius Mortaeda is cunning. If it agrees, it’s only because it sees an advantage.”

  “So, it used her?” My questions wrap around my heart like invisible chains. Am I doomed to the same fate? Is escape even possible?

  “No,” Zyar answers gravely. “It offered her its powers, and thus the power of the Losniw grew. But this being is treacherous and delights in the suffering of its victims. What exactly drove it to accept Eldralith Entium’s offer, I cannot say.”

  “So, the Losniw rule Elindros?” My thoughts whirl chaotically. “Am I therefore the rightful heir to the throne? Was my father a Losniw?”

  “Eldralith had to accept that no one with the power of the Sonatius Mortaeda could ascend the throne,” Zyar explains, his gaze revealing more than his words. “Instead, it was decided that the Losniw would serve the royal family.”

  “Who rules Elindros now?” Is it someone like King Mukuta—a man I once believed was my father?

  “Valron Feroy,” Zyar replies hesitantly, as though searching for the right words. “A... power-hungry man. If he learns the rightful heir still lives, he’ll send his soldiers to capture you and lock you in a dungeon. He’ll hold you there until he bends you to his will.”

  “But how does he know I’m alive?” Panic surges within me. “Why is he looking for me?”

  “He doesn’t know that you live,” Zyar corrects me. “But he knows the vessel of the Sonatius Mortaeda still exists. As long as you live, no new vessel can be born. For years, no unusual power has appeared in Elindros, so he knows you must be out there somewhere. When a vessel is born, three moons appear in Elindros’ night sky instead of two.”

  “A new vessel?” The word feels like a looming threat. “How do you know it will be a girl?”

  “Because this cycle began with Eldralith Entium,” Zyar explains calmly. “Only a female Elindine can be the next vessel. After your death, the next Losniw will take your place.”

  “And what if I refuse?” My voice is barely a hiss, my hands trembling with rage. “What if I reject this burden?”

  Zyar looks at me indifferently. “If you break the agreement…” he says, “…the Sonatius Mortaeda will demand its part of the bargain. Long ago, it agreed that your mother could pass her burden to you. If you now refuse as well, it will destroy Elindros... and with it, all the Elindine.”