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Synopsis

When a young priestess with the most dangerous gift the realm had ever seen is whisked away by a powerful wizard to an alternate world where her alter self is the villain, she starts to see her power's great potential for good and even more for evil.

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The realm of Valendia has three other alternate realms they call mimics. They all share the same place, time, and people, but all of them lead very different lives.

Elewyn was born with a dangerous gift everyone around Valendia considers a curse, which led her to be left in the care of the Zion priests, whose sole purpose is to protect the people from the constant threat of the Dark One, the evil ruler of Azazel, Valendia's worst mimic.

But when the Dark One's most powerful wizard, Amon Akalis, accidentally steals Elewyn from her peaceful life in the temple and takes her to Azazel, she discovers more answers about herself than she ever imagined because in Azazel, her mimic is no other than the Dark One. Worse, Amon Akalis tells her that in order to survive, she has to play the part.

Chapter 1 | The Visit

He always came on the full moon.

When that time of the year came, everyone would drop everything by dusk. They would herd their cattle back to the barn and usher their children, especially the daughters, inside their homes. Windows and doors shut, they'd wait for the night to pass, never to blink a sleep or move from their hearths.

No one knew why he took young girls or what he did to them because none ever returned. No spears or swords or magic could stop him. Valendia was vulnerable.

One night, however, he just appeared in the temple and sat in the library for hours. And he just left, taking no one. This went on for years. In fact, it had been five years since he took the last girl.

But no one could truly ever feel safe. No, not really. Because it was not just the Dark Prince people feared. It was the master he worked for: the Dark Lord of Azazel. The destroyer of worlds.

There were horrifying stories about the Dark Lord. They say that the stolen young girls were taken by him; that he took them for his brides and he ate their children to gain more power.

But these were just stories I gathered. I never lived among the people; never had to share the kind of fear they had to endure. Because mine was far worse. It was not their homes the Dark Prince visited, not their girls he took, nor their grounds he walked on. It was mine: My home he came to every year on a full moon, my friends—my sisters—who shared my fear that maybe he would change his mind during one of his visits and take one of us.

The Temple of Zion stood on top of a mountain in Tridor, one of the five kingdoms of Valendia. It was the only home we knew, me and the other girls who were left outside its doors.

"Where have you been?" Kalixa hissed as I caught up with the other priestesses.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, fixing the cream veil over my head. "I lost track of time. Where are we going?"

"We've been called to the hall. You're covered in grass," Thena said behind me.

"You climbed over the walls again, didn't you?" Kalixa asked.

"Of course, she did," Thena replied.

The four of us had been friends since we arrived in Zion fourteen years ago—Kalixa, Thena, Mira, and me. I was four, and they were five, and they took me in as a sister they meant to protect and comfort. Their parents sent them here to be priestesses. I wasn't. But I knew why.

"You know it's the full moon, right?" Kalixa asked as our line of fifteen girls came to a gentle stop.

"Yes, of course, I know."

"And even if it's not the full moon, we're not allowed to venture outside the temple."

"That's why I did not go far from the wall. Will anyone tell me why we're here?" We stood in line in the center of the hall, feeling a little lost. "It's not time for the afternoon prayer, is it?"

I shut my mouth when the head priestess, Lioba, rushed into the hall, her white robe and veil floating behind her. Her eyes jumped straight at me as if she knew what I had been up to. "Grand Wizard Ovia is arriving in a moment." We turned to stare at one another. "She's here for a visit," Lioba answered our unspoken question.

I had spent enough quality time with Lioba during my disciplinary sessions to recognize the look of disapproval on her face. Not that she did not like Ovia. As the greatest wizard in the realm, Ovia was given the highest respect. Many villages considered her a goddess and even prayed to her. But this was the full moon, not the best time for temple hopping.

Unless something urgent came up that concerned the full moon.

A chill ran through me at the thought.

"Back straight, lips tight. Go to your places." As we moved to stand before the fifteen statues of the Grand Wizards of the past that lined the hall, Lioba stood in front of me. "Stay after the welcome."

"What? Why?"

"Priestesses don't ask questions, Elewyn." As she walked away, I raised my head and met Kalixa's gaze from across the hall. "What did she say?" Kalixa mouthed.

I shrugged.

"Did you do something?"

I gulped and reluctantly shrugged.

She rolled her eyes in frustration.

We squared our shoulders and bowed our heads as High Priest Ivor appeared from a side door in a white robe, his head wrapped in a tall white hat he reserved for special guests. He stopped at the end of the line and waited without a word. The double doors to the temple, which had been closed for the full moon, slowly swung open, the hinges squeaking at their weight. In the doorway stood a small woman dressed in black robes and a veil: The Stormbringer, the greatest wizard Valendia had ever seen since Zion.

I gawked in wonder as she passed, my heart racing as it felt great magic. She stood a head shorter than me, and it was a wonder how such a small body held immense power. Like Ivor, she did not look like she was more than a century old. Her hair was as long and black as ours, her face flawless as the fifteen young girls in the hall. Magic played a significant part in making her stay young, for certain, but it was her eyes—the way they stared at us—that gave away her age and wisdom.

"I know you are all anxious because the full moon is drawing near," she said as she stood beside Ivor. "But do not fear because the spirit and grace of Zion live within you. This is just one night and one evil passing through. We had been through it countless times. The sun will rise anew tomorrow and you will all celebrate another year of peace, magic, and harmony."

We bowed as she turned and walked away without another word, her steps long and hasty with Ivor fast beside her as if they were in a hurry for something. I watched two priests close the doors with a resounding echo.

The girls finally moved, free to talk. Most of us were half-disappointed that Ovia did not say more, but quite glad to be free to leave, go to prayer, get our supper, and lock ourselves in our rooms until the full moon had passed.

Of course, I was frightened. It had only been five years since the Dark Lord took the last girl. But she was not just another priestess. Mira was our friend, our sister. She did not deserve to be taken away.

"Elewyn," Lioba said when I fell in line with the other young priestesses. "Elewyn."

I closed my eyes and pretended not to hear. A quick nudge threw me out of line. My eyes flew open, and I glared at Thena and Kalixa. I knew it was Thena because she was shaking her hand as if she was scorched.

"Elewyn."

I groaned and turned. She was already waiting for me at the entrance of the corridor—the same one Ivor and Ovia rushed into.

"Faster," Lioba said, her hands clasped together before her. She wanted to grab me and drag me with her if she could, but she didn't because no one could touch me.

I took my precious time walking behind her. "Is this about this morning, Sister?" I cautiously asked as she led the way, her steps light and graceful on the stone floors, mine dragging and reluctant.

"What about this morning?"

I gulped. "Nothing?"

She stole me a look over her shoulder, her steps unwavering. It must be about this morning, I thought. I had already paid for the incident I caused two days ago. My knees were still sore from the hours of prayer.

"Is this about last night, Sister?" I asked when I belatedly remembered last night's slight accident in the kitchen.

"What about last night?"

I gritted my teeth. Lioba always knew how to catch me. I had to be careful.

"Nothing?"

I did not realize we had come to a stop until I heard the voices from behind the door and my eyes widened. My mouth fell open, about to ask what I could have possibly done so wrong that required a talk with the Stormbringer, but no words came out.

"Khettish is rounding up armies in the north and it's only a matter of time. The king wants to attack before they can and he demands that she be there. Under my guidance, she will be ready before—"

Ovia stopped talking when Lioba knocked on the door.

"Come in," Ivor said.

They were sitting around a small table with three other priests. Ovia and Ivor remained seated as the others stood.

"You troublemaker," one priest whispered to me, clucking his tongue with a teasing smile as he passed. I glared at him and he chuckled along with the other priests.

I gulped.

"Elewyn. Come in," Ivor said with a wave of his hand. His face was gentle and his smile could warm even the coldest heart of a child who just realized her parents had abandoned her forever. His voice was just as comforting and kind as the songs he sang to help me sleep whenever I woke up crying those first few months.

I stumbled on my robe and almost fell on my face as I clumsily bowed. "Your Magnificence—ies?" I greeted. Was it supposed to be plural? I never had the chance to greet two Grand Wizards at the same time.

I never desired to be in the same room as Lioba, but when she stepped back and closed the door, leaving me alone with Ivor and Ovia, I almost begged her to stay.

"Have a seat, Elewyn."

"We will not take long," said Ovia. "I understand the Dark Prince is arriving soon."

I stared at them, half-amazed and half-frightened. She said his name so easily. I was yet to meet someone who didn't shiver at the sound of the name, much more say it.

The Dark Prince was not from this world. He was from the mimic realm Azazel, an alternate world of Valendia.

There are three mimics we knew of: Evathra, Azazel, and Iahalyn. Their worlds are exactly like ours. Everything we have in ours has a twin—a duplicate, a pair—in those worlds. Everything and everybody is the same, but also not the same.

Somewhere in those worlds, I had a mimic, but I didn't know their fate. I didn't know their lives because it was a rule not to know. And as priests and priestesses of Zion, it was our job to make sure that the mimics didn't meet—or worse, collide.

Mimics coming in contact with each other was simply too disastrous. They say Iahalyn dared meddle with the natural order of the mimics and paid for it gravely. Their world, as we heard, had become a wasteland. There was nothing there but darkness and chaos, they say. Thus, in order to stop the same thing from happening to Valendia, the then Grand Wizard Zion built this temple and, with his powerful magic, built a barrier between our world and the other mimics.

I had never been to the portal. I was too young and too inexperienced to be permitted ingress, which was heavily guarded by the kingdom's best wizards. But everyone knew the portal was somewhere in the caves where the Temple of Zion stood.

Ever since the temple was built, no one had crossed to and from any of the mimics without getting killed by the barrier or by the wizards.

Except for one: the Dark Prince.

For some dark magic no one in Valendia could explain, he could travel to our realm on a full moon. Each year, he came to the same place in Zion, and always at the exact same time.

We could do nothing but wait, praying he would leave without taking one of us.

"I came here for you, Elewyn," Ovia said, pulling my wandering thoughts back to the room.

"For me?" I asked, blinking at her, and then at Ivor. "Is this about the fire in the shed? But I swear I did not mean to cause it. I was merely—"

"No, this is not about the shed," he patiently replied.

"The altar? I fixed that one and I also spent three straight days praying for forgiveness—"

Ovia's laughter rang around the room. "She is something, isn't she?" she asked Ivor.

"She is," he replied, amusement in his eyes.

"I'm not here because of your petty demeanors, Elewyn, although I do hope you avoid making them from now on," Ovia said, smiling at me as she spoke. Her cheeks were naturally red, her face full as her smile widened. "I'm taking you with me to the palace."

I froze. "Me?" My gaze darted toward Ivor, the feeling of betrayal rising up my throat. "W-Why?" Was I not good enough to be here? "I know I should have been paying more attention to my studies and prayers, but we all know I do not lack magic. I only need to know how to control it and—" I stopped, shaking my head.

Everyone in the temple believed there was no way to control whatever I had. Like my parents, they believed it was not magic I possessed, but a curse. Was it because of it, then? Was I being taken away because I was no use here?

"I don't want to leave," I stubbornly said as my friends' faces flashed before me. I couldn't leave them after what happened to Mira. How could I?

Ovia let out a long, patient sigh. "Elewyn, it's not that you're not good enough to be here," she said, as if she heard my thoughts. "It's just that no one here is good enough to teach you. I will train you—"

"But I don't want you. Ivor is the greatest there is—"

"After me," Ovia interjected, and for a split second, her smile vanished and a flash of something crossed her eyes. The hairs on my arms stood as a gust of cold wind blew past me, blowing my veil off my head. Thunder rumbled outside the windows. "You being here is dangerous, Elewyn, and I hope I have the time to explain to you why, but I don't. We have to leave before the full moon."

"I'm not leaving the temple," I said. "You'll have to make me." It was quite bold of me, but I knew that if they had to take me by force, they would have to touch me. Which they could not. No one could without crumbling in excruciating pain, or worse.

A cold smile curled Ovia's lips. "Do you really think we could not?"

I swallowed hard. Could they? They had done everything, but no one could make me do anything. No one could touch me apart from Thena, and she could only do so for a split second.

"Ovia," Ivor said, his voice strained.

"What?" Ovia asked, her eyes hard and cold on me. When Ivor did not answer, she tore her eyes away from me to look at him. He was facing the window that overlooked the vast lands of Tridor. Ovia stood, alarm on her face. "That's not me," she said, staring at the window.

Outside, the sky was cloaked in darkness. But it was not the clouds. It was just... darkness. There was a sudden stillness, like the ringing in my ears after the priests hit the gong for prayer time.

I wrapped my arms around myself as the room suddenly went cold.

"Khetish?" Ivor asked Ovia.

"No. They don't have this kind of magic."

Ivor turned to me. "Is this you?"

I shook my head. He knew what I could do, and this was not it.

The realization hit them before it did me, and by then, it was too late. The darkness extended into the room in a blink, and both Ovia and Ivor were thrown against the wall.

Ovia's eyes lit white as she summoned her magic. But it was not enough to free her from the wall. If anything, she just caused a terrible storm outside.

"Elewyn, run!" Ivor screamed.

But I couldn't. Something was holding me in place and I didn't know what. It was terrifying to be held down because for years, no one could hold me down and make me stay against my will.

My eyes jumped to the window. There was no full moon.

Could it be?

But that was impossible. We still had hours to spare. It was not yet time.

And then he was there, standing in the middle of the room, cloaked in black, his face hidden in the shadow of his cloak.

Paralyzed, I could only stare as the Dark Prince approached me.