36. Elzora
36
ELZORA
“ T oday is a marvellous day for our society,” King Etonik says, his voice booming across the auditorium, each word dripping with theatrical satisfaction.
Those in the crowd lap up every single word he says as if they can’t see through his lying facade.
My heart beats in a slow, steady rhythm, almost unnaturally calm. The morning’s encounter with Vexus lingers in my system, more effective than any anxiety medication I’ve ever taken. The familiar edge of panic that usually accompanies these public appearances is conspicuously absent, replaced by an eerie stillness.
I’m calm. I’m relaxed.
I’m in control.
“Not only has the heir to our kingdom, my pride and joy, Eirik Farglory, found his anima nexum ,” King Etonik says, dragging this out like the dramatic production he wants it to be.
The crowd goes wild, their combined magicae making the ceremonial banners snap and flutter against their poles, the witches in front of me screeching so loudly I’m surprised my eardrums haven’t been blown out. But seeing their powers reminds me that I, too, am one of them.
“ Silentium ,” I mouth, the spell flowing naturally from my lips. The shrieking crowd falls silent – at least to my ears. A small mercy but enough to ward off the headache I can feel brewing behind my temples.
“I know, I know,” King Etonik continues, his voice booming over the area, an amplifying spell clearly responsible. I don’t know if the crowd is silent, but the screaming definitely stops. I cancel the spell, wanting to hear everything.
“But trust me when I tell you that the news I have is so much better.”
The crowd gasps, and I hold in my giggles. I’ll never admit this out loud for fear of, well… far too much, but it’s clear to see where Etrix gets his flare for the dramatics from.
“I heard that,” Etrix’s voice slides into my mind, warm with feigned indignation. I bite my lip, trying to stop the smile from appearing. “One day, little queen, you’re going to ? —”
“Little queen?” I interrupt, somehow maintaining my composed exterior as the crowd begins to chant. The title sends an unexpected shiver down my spine.
“It’s more fitting than princess, surely?”
“Eirik Farglory has found his anima nexum in the new witch that has had us all perplexed, Elzora Miller.”
Etonik’s announcement cuts through our mental exchange. He turns towards me, his practiced smile not quite reaching his eyes.
“But Elzora Miller was her Earth name. We recognise her as Elzora Myxere .”
The crowd erupts again, and I squeeze both Eirik’s and Etrix’s hands, drawing strength from their steady presence as hundreds of eager eyes lock onto me. My skin prickles under the attention, each gaze feeling like a physical touch.
This is scary.
“Terrifying,” Eirik’s thought brushes against my consciousness, his mental voice tight with concern.
“Don’t worry, little queen, your other men are searching for those we truly need to be worried about,” Etrix says, squeezing my hand back. “Stand tall, and don’t let Etonik see you falter.”
“Elzora was found living in the human realm by my chosen anima nexum , Aria,” Etonik continues, his voice taking on a practiced solemnity. “Thanks to my family, we’ve helped heal our souls by bringing back one of the ones we lost.”
The air grows heavier with each word, magicae crackling with building tension. Something’s wrong—I can feel it in my bones, in the way my soul magicae reaches out instinctively.
“It was a tragic day in Mitagus when we lost most of the Myxere family, the day that everything changed in our world. We were so fortunate that King Caedos survived, that his anima nexum could have Princess Elzora, before their death.”
He pauses, shaking his head in a show of grief that rings hollow to my heightened senses.
“No, before they were murdered by Anomus Myxere, Caedos’s older, twisted, dark witch brother. We’re lucky that Elzora is safe from his influence, that we found her before he ever could.”
I try not to flinch at Etonik’s wording, aware that every single camera will be on me—on us —right now, recording each micro-expression, each tiny reaction. But his words do as intended and hurt .
Eirik and Etrix are practically statues, neither giving a single thing away, as they stare out into the crowd.
I wish I had that level of innate control, that ability to stay calm despite the storm.
I cling to their hands, plastering a smile on my face, as I stand here in front of everyone. The crown on my head seems to grow heavier with each passing moment.
“It was thanks to fate that she’s here, mated to both my sons—that Eirik, my heir and the Elemental Prince, has found her, the Primordial Queen.”
I can feel myself paling, the rush of disgust as everyone starts to cheer in the crowd, excitement filling them at the idea that the prophecy is coming to light.
I don’t blame my people, not when they don’t know the truth.
But I do, and Etonik does, and he’s pretending it’s going to be such an amazing thing for our community—for this world.
When really… the future doesn’t look good, for any of us.
“It’s finally time for the prophecy to come to light, for my son to bond with Elzora Myxere, uniting both branches of magicae for good.”
The sky begins to darken as he speaks, clouds gathering overhead. My magicae twists restlessly, sensing the approaching storm—both literal and metaphorical.
“I started this journey alone, terrified, as I dealt with the consequences of the passing from Caedos and Exsern Myxere, but over the last two decades, I’ve managed to unite us all.
“But when my son and my new daughter-in-law marry, this kingdom will be truly united. No more Primordials, no more Elementals, we’re all just… witches!”
The smile on my face is frozen in place as the air grows thick with magicae. The crowd’s cheers sound distant now, muffled by the pressure building in my ears.
Thunder rumbles overhead, and I don’t know if the wards around us will protect from a storm.
Etonik is lapping up the attention, getting off on the support he’s receiving, but, honestly, I just want to throw up.
The speech continues, but the words are just white noise in my ear as I take in the crowd.
Something seems to have changed, and the more King Etonik speaks, the darker the atmosphere gets.
My vision wavers, and I silently thank Eirik and Etrix as they hold me steady.
We’re in the same space, and I look around at the crowd. Blood soaks into the grass, people are screaming, there’s so much violence.
The sky is black as if a storm is about to unleash, and someone grabs my arm, turning me towards them.
“Then what the fuck are we meant to do?” Etrix snarls, his face contorted with a desperate rage as he glares at me.
Pain lances through my chest as thunder rolls across the sky.
It’s time.
“Zoe!” Eirik’s voice is a low hiss in my mind, drawing me from my vision.
I give him a guilty smile, and he gently tugs me to the podium. Etrix sticks close to me, and the three of us stand at the front together.
But my vision has soured things, and the dark atmosphere around us only seems to be getting worse. Something heavy settles in my stomach, and my heart is racing.
I have no idea what is happening right now, so I hope that Eirik can guide me.
“Thank you everyone for being here today,” Eirik addresses the crowd, his voice smooth and controlled despite the tension I can feel through our bond.
“It was a true shock when Etrix and I found out that not only was Elzora that Elzora but that she was ours.
“We’re so fortunate she was returned to our world and that she’s completely safe in our grasp.”
“You’re not safe,” a malicious voice whispers, sending ice down my spine. The hair on the back of my neck stands up, a tingle spreading through my body, as the clouds thunder.
“You can’t run, little queen, and you can’t hide. Not anymore.”
I tug at Etrix’s sleeve, trying to be subtle about it. The cameras are still rolling, still catching every moment.
“What’s wrong, little—” Etrix silently asks, but he’s interrupted by her .
“Don’t waste your time, you fake little bitch,” the same malicious voice shrieks, and I clutch at my head seconds before a smoke bomb of sorts is thrown into the crowd, chaos erupting in its wake.
People start to shriek, and I let out a whimper, her presence getting stronger in my mind, darker, as she tries to force her way in.
“I don’t know what you’ve done to your mind, Elzora, but you’re nothing. Soon enough, I’ll be taking the throne from you—I am the true Primordial Queen, not you.”
The voice drips with venom, each word a promise of violence. “And, soon enough, your mind will be mine to play with. Mine to shatter, mine to torment, mine to devour. So give this fight your all because it will be your last.”
“What’s going on?” Eirik hisses, his eyes not focused on me but darting around the area.
I relay the message, watching their expressions darken with each word. The bond between us pulses with shared anger and fear.
“I’ll handle Dad,” Eirik says, giving Etrix a pained look.
“I know. Stay by my side, princess,” Etrix commands, his grip on my hand tightening. He looks past me to where Eirik is standing. “You know the plan, brother. Trust in me?—”
“Trust in us both.” Ciar materialises at my left, his once pristine appearance marred by a torn suit jacket. My heart rate spikes at the sight of the blood on the white shirt.
I don’t think it’s his, though.
Eirik nods. He strides towards me, capturing my lips in his, kissing me hard and fast. I’m breathless when he pulls back, and he rests our foreheads together.
I can feel him trembling, hear his uneven breath—or maybe it’s just me.
“Listen to Etrix and Ciar, and don’t you dare let yourself be harmed,” he commands, voice rough with emotion. “I love you.”
And then he’s gone, leaving a hollow ache in my chest, as I didn’t get to say it back.
I have to hold back my tears, knowing that this is not the time to be weak.
I let myself move into animus bellatoris, knowing that my panic is going to make things worse. It’s a good change, compartmentalising the anxiety and sadness so that I’m only left with the helpful emotions—anger, focus, and a desire to survive.
“We’re going to be sticking together,” Ciar says, and I don’t flinch when he launches his magicae against two people wearing blue coat uniforms. His magicae is crackling under the surface, a true excitement filling him.
“I need you to help us, okay, mo sholas ? Like you did at the castle. Anyone with good intentions but would be useless to this fight—we’re sending away. Mark them as innocent, and Etrix and I will handle them.”
“Anyone who is going to help in this fight, mark as friendly,” Etrix adds, pulling me close to him. His heartbeat thunders against my back, steady despite the chaos. “And anyone dangerous, well, if you can mark them, do, but don’t hesitate in taking them out. Okay?”
“Okay.” I nod, the crown on my head growing warm as if it, too, senses the trouble. “And what are you two doing?”
“Stopping anyone from getting to you,” Ciar says darkly.
I let my magicae spread across the battlefield. I find my mates first, marking each of them as friendly. I make sure that nobody on the opposition can feel the marks or can sense a change.
That’s the last thing that we’d need.
A gust of air shoots towards us, and both Ciar and Etrix grab a hold of me as we’re launched through the air.
My stomach drops, the air taken out of me, but, of course, my men react.
A smoke cloud appears underneath me, slowing down our fall, but it doesn’t stop the direct hit to us that we face from the same air witch.
“Nah, fuck that,” Etrix snarls, launching beams of light. I don’t know how he immediately gets to his feet, but he does without stumbling. Ciar is quick to react, and I know that although we’re the targets, my men are far from helpless.
The chaos around us is deafening. Screams and explosions blend with the crackle of competing magics.
There’s a darkness in the air, a twisted feeling that is so familiar but, strangely, can’t be placed.
I stand and spread my arms wide, pushing away all of the people who are close. I try to disguise my magicae as Ryes’s, not taking energy from him but from our bond. I won’t risk any of my men, leaching from their powers today, but for those I’ve bonded with, it’s easy to borrow their energy signature.
“Good job, princess,” Etrix yells, knocking three men to the ground in rapid succession. The air around him shimmers with residual light magicae. “Keep going—you’re safe.”
I nod my head and continue working through the crowd, my soul magicae easily able to tell friend from foe.
Ciar and Etrix aren’t able to get to the innocents, to get them out, as the wards are locking us all in. Just what we need.
But, thankfully, we have others in the crowd who are keeping them safe. My dad might not have been able to be here, but his rebels are—his allies.
Hope builds inside me as I realise how clearly not alone we are.
It’s the High Order that are attacking. Their army is wide, and I have no idea who is leading this fight—Etonik, maybe? But he’s not here, of course, having fled the moment the battle began. Eirik’s searching, but who knows if he managed to get out before the wards closed us in.
I peer deeper into the souls of the High Order members, and their intention is clear: catch me or my men and subdue us.
Subdue.
“They’re under orders to not kill,” I warn, and my men exchange a look. I don’t pause, going back to what I was doing. A stray blast of fire is launched my way, and I shriek as water immediately douses over it.
It’s too late, my chest now burned, but, thankfully, the dress is safe.
“Fucking idiot,” Ciar snaps.
“It was a fucking accident,” Etrix retorts, but there’s tension underneath the banter.
“We need to move from here,” I say as another spray of fire is sent our way. Without a full bond to Zohar, I can’t risk trying to control it in case I take his power away from him. The heat sears the air around us, making it hard to breathe.
“We need to move,” I shout, and Ciar grabs both Etrix and I. He tries to shadow travel, but we don’t move, our feet stuck in the same exact spot.
“Fuck,” Etrix snarls, meeting fire with light in a spectacular collision that sends sparks raining down around us.
“You try,” Ciar decides before pulling away from us. I don’t know what he does, what spell does this, but three people drop dead a few metres away, their bodies hitting the ground with sickening finality.
The metallic tang of blood mingles with the acrid smell of the magicae in the air, and my stomach churns.
“I can’t,” Etrix hisses, his frustration bleeding through our bond.
“We’re blocked,” I say, dropping to the ground, letting my magicae assess through the Earth, seeing if there’s a way out at all. “Someone has wards up—we’re all contained.”
“Fucking hell,” Ciar roars, his shadows writhing in anger. “Okay, we need to retreat. We need somewhere we can hide out so that we’re not as vulnerable.”
“I don’t want to hide.” My heart clenches in pain, torn between the promise I’ve made to Eirik, to Necos, to all of my men multiple times, and the help I can offer.
“We’re not hiding,” Etrix says, his voice gentler now. “We’ll still be here, but we need somewhere more secure to do our part.”
“Okay,” I agree, though something nags at the edges of my consciousness. I scan the battlefield, seeking the familiar presence of spirits. My grandmother’s absence is notable, as is my dad’s, but something else lurks just beyond perception.
Someone is here— something is here.
I launch attack after attack, not stumbling once in these heels. Like the High Order, I try to subdue, refusing to kill unless I have to. The energy signatures of them vary—some are weaker than others, disastrously so, and they’re the ones with the most warped souls and auras.
I don’t understand it. Not really.
But there’s something else at work here, something we’ve missed.
“Zoe, watch out—” Ciar roars, and I don’t even hesitate in my reaction. The bright gold would clearly out me, if anyone were able to watch properly, but I grab hold of these men and launch them through the air by their souls.
I know if I tried, I could really hurt them, make them pay.
I could separate their souls from their bodies, torturing both at once.
If I really wanted to… I could make them my puppets, forced to obey my will.
They should feel themselves lucky.
The air whistles past me as we run, my heels somehow not sinking into the mud as we travel across the grass, but I’m so relieved that we’re together and mostly unharmed.
Sure, we’re covered in burns, scratches, and have some bloody wounds. But we’re not dying, we’re not incapacitated.
We’re just… in a battle.
“Duck,” Etrix yells, and I squeal as I drop to the ground. I can feel warmth and darkness above my head as I wrap my arms over me to keep me safe from the attack.
The blast of energy sails over my head, and I hear it collide with something—or someone—behind us. There’s a sickening crack, followed by screams that make my stomach churn.
I don’t recognise the voices, but guilt weighs heavy anyway. These are my people, too, even if they’re fighting against us.
I don’t have time to check if anyone was hurt since Etrix is already pulling me to my feet and tugging me along.
I feel awful.
“We need to find better cover,” Ciar says, his voice rough as he deflects another attack. “The western tree line—we can assess from there.”
The western tree line? I don’t know which way is west, and there’s a bunch of trees around us.
“Feel with your magicae,” Etrix commands, letting out a large blast of light.
I nod, letting my magicae spread out to scan the battlefield, connecting to the Earth, hoping it can guide us—guide me.
A bright green trail appears, but the issue is following it—we’ve got to get past the biggest fighting crowds without getting spotted.
There are so many different pockets of fighting scattered all across the grounds. It makes my magicae twist, knowing that the once-pristine magicael area is now tarnished with death, pain, and blood.
“Cover me,” Etrix commands, raising his hands. Light explodes from his palms in a blinding flash, creating a momentary shield as we sprint towards the trees.
My heels still refuse to sink into the mud now, the magicae keeping them stable and me steady. Owlyn will never know how much she’s saved me today—not really.
Ciar’s magicae smells stronger, a dangerous and lethal tinge to the shadows as he surrounds us the best he can.
Bonding with these two men was a smart move for today—even if that wasn’t why I wanted to do it—because, now, we move like a unit, their bond including me, and keeping us all together.
As the trees get closer, and we’re further away from the stage and most of the fighting, I begin to lag behind.
A High Order soldier appears through the chaos, his Black Coats uniform torn and bloodied as he staggers forward.
He’s unsteady on his feet, his mind corrupted, and his eyes… his eyes are all wrong.
They’re glazed over with an unnatural silver sheen.
He’s an air witch, nobody remarkably powerful, not usually, but right now, something is wrong with his primordium .
But before I can examine him, before I can figure it out, Ciar’s shadows wrap around him like tentacles, dragging him away.
The man screams and shrieks, and my stomach clenches in uncertainty.
“Something’s not right with him,” I shout over the screams and shouts. “His soul’s… it was corrupted somehow.”
“Worry about that later,” Etrix grunts, blocking a barrage of ice shards with a wall of light. The crystals shatter against it, flying through the air like beautiful glimmering diamonds.
“Keep going, Zoe,” Ciar commands. “Don’t stop.”
I follow after Etrix, huffing and puffing as my lungs protest at this cardio, but I don’t slow down again—not after the mistake I made just now.
The three of us make it to the tree line, the thick trunks providing natural cover, and the Earth responds to my magicae, growing and moving to shelter us properly.
“Thank fuck you managed that,” Etrix says, marvelling at me. “Maybe we should stop bullying earth witches if they’ve got this kind of power.”
“Nah, don’t go that far,” Ciar teases.
I know their light-hearted jokes are for my benefit, but it’s not helping right now.
Instead, I creep forward, peering through the trees. From this vantage point, we can see most of the ceremonial grounds, including the stage nearly fifty meters away.
“I’ll keep going,” I say, moving back and closing my eyes, letting my magicae work.
I continue marking souls, separating the innocent from the enemy and making sure that all of my allies—all of those on our side—know who not to harm.
The tension grows, and I hear the thundering clouds above us. I have no idea if witches are powerful enough to summon storms—true weather manipulation—or if this is just a dark omen of what’s to come.
“Keep going, mo sholas ,” Ciar says, still watching from the gap in the trees. “Things are starting to die down, it seems.”
“They are?” I ask, confused. I can feel the air darkening—it’s practically poisonous.
And we’re winning.
There’s more of the good people out there than enemies.
“Yeah,” Etrix agrees, standing next to Ciar, peering over his shoulder. “They seem to be retreating.”
“That doesn’t—” I’m cut off as a wave of dark energy rolls across the battlefield.
I feel it in my bones—cold, ancient, wrong. Ciar stumbles, clutching his head, letting out a pained cry. The shadows he commands start to waver and dissipate.
“Ciar!” I reach for him just as another attack comes our way. This one’s different—it’s not aimed at us but at the trees above. The branches rupture, splitting apart with a thunderous crack.
Etrix grabs my arm, yanking me back, but Ciar isn’t as lucky. A falling branch catches him hard across the shoulders, and though he manages to jump away from the worst of it, something’s wrong with him.
His eyes are unfocused, blood trickling from his nose.
“The magicae—it’s... it’s...” He collapses, and I barely catch him with my magicae before he hits the ground.
Etrix curses, creating a dome of light around us as I check Ciar’s pulse.
It’s there but weak and erratic. I do what I can to heal him, but I only ever heal the soul—not the body.
“We need to end this,” I say, my voice trembling with both fear and rage. “Whatever they’re doing to the wards, to the area, we can’t keep going like this.”
From our position in the trees, I can see other witches falling across the battlefield, their powers failing or turning against them.
I don’t understand.
Who is doing this? How are they doing this?
But then it becomes clear. I see her.
She’s approaching the stage, and the energy surrounding her is electrifying—as if the thunder was preparing not for lightning but for her .
Her long black hair flows down to her waist, moving in a wind I can’t feel.
It’s her eyes that capture me – bright silver, holding so much malice. The toxic energy darkening the sky pulses in perfect rhythm with her heartbeat.
She’s lithe and deadly in her beautiful silver dress. The train drapes across the stage as she walks, her heels clicking loudly in my mind.
I know I can’t actually hear them, but something in me connects to her, a recognition that goes beyond sight or sound.
Magicae recognises magicae, and underneath the corruption and darkness, there’s something familiar about her—something like… kin.
Even from this distance, her power radiates outward in waves of corrupted energy. Every pulse makes my soul recoil, and I know that there’s something fundamentally twisted in her magicae.
“Etrix,” I whisper, gripping his arm as realisation hits me like a physical blow. “She’s… she’s…”
The words stick in my throat as she claims the podium I was at not too long ago. I freeze as she takes control of the chaos around us, drawing the attention of everyone on the battlefield.
Etrix tightens his grip on me, his light magicae flaring protectively. Ciar is still unconscious at our feet, and even in animus bellatoris, I’ve never felt more torn between fight and flight.
She’s powerful, oh, she’s so much more powerful than anything I have ever felt before, and it’s terrifying.
Her primordium is off the charts, and I don’t know how she’s standing there without leaking any of it.
She amplifies her voice, the sound sultry and malicious, in the same breath. “Mitagus, please, let’s not fight. Let’s not let the rebels win.”
Her voice sends a shiver down my spine, and it’s only then that I notice the second person on the stage.
A man in a sky blue suit with a familiar head of hair and familiar features. Another feel of familiar kin magicae touches my senses, but, this time, he’s not mine .
No, this twisted water witch… is Finis. Zohar’s older brother, and something bitter settles in my chest at this ultimate betrayal.
“We need to leave,” Etrix hisses, trying to pull me back towards the tree line.
“We can’t leave,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. The weight of responsibility sits heavy on my shoulders. “Even if I could overpower her wards, it’s impossible to get everyone out of here without causalities. We can’t leave, E.”
“Then what the fuck are we meant to do?” he snarls.
I know that his anger is out of fear and not directed towards me. I know that and let his outburst brush off me.
There’s something familiar about the way we’re standing, about the way he snaps at me.
Understanding blooms in my chest as pieces click into place. The visions, the panic, the fear... it all leads to this moment.
“You trust me, you trust in my magicae,” I say softly. The crown on my head glows, my mum’s light magicae brushing against my own. I ignore the start of her speech and look up at Etrix. “I need you to get me out of here once I give the signal—okay?”
A plan is forming, one that isn’t going to be good, but it doesn’t matter. This moment is now clear, the visions I’ve been having, the panic, the fear… it all leads up to now. I understand it.
I understand what I need to do.
His eyes are wide as he glances between me and Ciar’s unconscious form. “I thought we couldn’t leave. What are you planning?”
“Trust me, E,” I repeat. He gulps, his mind racing about how far we are from the rest of our bond. Eventually, he nods. “Good. This next part isn’t going to be good, but I need you to get Ciar awake—okay?”
“Okay.” His voice is quiet, heavy with understanding of what I’m not saying.
I turn my attention back to the stage as the woman captures their attention with practiced ease.
“Because the thing is, Mitagus, Elzora has been keeping a secret from us all,” the woman says, the crowd captive to her melodious voice. “She’s spent the last few months lying and pretending that she doesn’t know what type of magicae her primordium contains… when, all along, she was playing us like a fool.”
I start pulling on my power, start harnessing it from everyone here. I pull from the primordiums of my enemies, from the sources of good. I take everything I can without touching those who are twisted, who are broken.
Every healthy sense of power starts flooding through me.
The air darkens as she realises that something is changing, and I know that we don’t have much time. The moment I do this, the moment I let go, it’s down to my men.
I trust them with my life. I always have.
But, now, I’m trusting them with this world—with everything .
“Elzora Myxere is a soul witch.”
And only then do I unleash it all. I let the power explode, shattering the wards she’s put up, knocking down every single curse and spell she and the team have put in place.
The very air vibrates with the force of my magicae, of my pure magicae.
Letting the High Order be in charge of the security was the second stupidest decision Etonik has made today.
But the first was inviting me here as the princess puppet without ensuring I’d behave.
This woman, our enemy, is right about one thing—I am a soul witch, and, soon enough, I’ll be claiming the crown of the Primordial Queen, as is my birthright.
I hear screams and shrieks, but I don’t pull back. Etrix and Ciar are tugging at me, trying to get me to move, to leave. They’re fulfilling the promise I enacted, but they’re not yet waiting for the signal.
I can’t leave, not yet. I feel her, her corrupted magicae trying to fight against me, feel the drain and the poison as it tries to connect with me, tries to break down the mental shields my dad put in place.
“You’re not going to win this one, little soul witch.”
Her voice drips with malice as she attempts to invade my mind. The attack feels like ice picks driving into my temples.
“ Protego !” I roar, pouring out every single piece of power I have my hands on. She’s thrust from my mind, thrust from the stage, as my vision starts to blur from her magicael assault.
Black spots dance in my field of view, but I don’t let go, I don’t stop. She’s kicked out of the area before I give in, before I can’t channel this amount of power any longer.
I fall into the waiting arms of my Primordial Prince. I smile, my eyes fluttering closed as two identical terrified expressions meet mine.
“I’ll be okay,” I promise, though the words come out as barely a whisper. The world begins to fade, everything taking on a golden hue before darkness claims me.
I don’t know how long I lie here, absorbed in a sea of golden energy, but, eventually, it starts to clear.
I don’t move, waiting to see what happens, to see where I end up.
The golden light of my magicae clears, and I’m shocked by what I see. We’re no longer at the parade, the blood in the air has gone, the screams and panic completely disappeared.
Instead, I’m standing on a familiar path, one I’ve only ever seen in a vision.
There’s a massive white castle in front of me, gleaming in ethereal light. With tall exterior walls blocking the entrance and a huge gate, this place is a true fortress.
And with three familiar people in front of it, I know that I’m safe.
My grandma, as old as she was the day she died, stands to the left of a man I’ve only met once. Caedos Myxere, the King of the Primordials, and… my dad. He’s wearing a white suit, the jacket undone, and the top three buttons aren’t together, showing off his chest.
At his side, well, I can only guess as to who she is. With dirty blonde hair that goes to her mid-back, as wavy as my own, and honey-kissed skin, I sense the familiarities. Her green eyes are bright and twinkle under the light as she beams at me.
Like my grandma and my dad, she’s wearing a pure white dress, the light catching them in a way that feels serene— ethereal, even.
There’s a low humming within me as my magicae reaches out to bond with the three of them for the first time in years.
Something deep in my soul settles into place, and I don’t know whether I’ve entered animus bellatoris again or if I’m just finally at peace being reunited with the family I’ve been denied all these years.
“I don’t think I’m meant to be here,” I say, looking between these faces that I’ve longed to properly see.
“Welcome home, filia mea ,” Exsern says, her voice full of love and pride. “We’ve been waiting for you to arrive.”
“Am I… am I dead?”
“In a way,” my dad says. If this is what being dead feels like, I can rest easy, it’s not so terrible.
The real world might burn, but what does it matter when this magicael one is where I belong… right?
“This is where the lost souls come, little queen,” my grandma says, still beaming at me. “And isn’t that what you are?”
“Am I?” I take a hesitant step towards them, my magicae rejoicing. I smile, nodding my head. “Yes, I think that sounds right. Elzora Myxere, the Lost Witch.”
I take my mum’s hand, and her familiar light magicae rushes through me at the contact. “But I’m not lost anymore, am I? I’m home now.”
I’m home now.
If that’s the case, though, why does part of my soul feel like it’s missing?