The Lord lay on the floor of the Grand Archives, gasping for air.

Iliya watched, stunned, her hands trembling uncontrollably as etharis files scattered around them like escaping birds. Tables and chairs shook on the ground, some flying backward.

"What is wrong with you?" Lord Alvero demanded from his splayed position at her feet. When had he fallen?

She blinked, confused, still hearing the words he'd spouted when he'd been standing.

"Between the Halfling and the Bastard, Chiori Faire will become a breeding ground for mutts."

She'd heard a million smug, condescending comments before.

Yet they had always isolated her.

Never once was her cousin brought into it.

Why would this Lord–

The ground swayed beneath her again, and she looked at the obsidian pillar stretching up before her.

The Aphyre.

Streams of mana began to pull straight from the Aphyre, alarms sounding as magic threatened the integrity of the barriers. A whirlwind of light funneled into her hands, the runes on her arm searing bright red.

Iliya shrieked at the burning, thrashing around as the Lord stood and yelled for the King.

He tried to pin her arms behind her, clamping his hands around the runes and causing pain to radiate over her skin.

Long, torturous seconds passed before the door burst open and the King ran through the Grand Archive, his footsteps fierce as he navigated the bookshelves. He stopped in front of the Aphyre, throwing a protective glance at Iliya before turning his attention to the monument, hands glowing as he held them aloft.

As the bursts of mana dispersed back into the obsidian crystal, the King growled and tugged Iliya into his chest, her arm pulled reluctantly away from the sour Lord.

"She's not your prisoner!" the King snapped.

Iliya managed a steadying breath before waves of numbness crept in, taking possession of her limbs.

Lord Alvero's handprints slowly faded as Iliya scrubbed feebly at her arm. What arrogance. Handling her as if she were a criminal.

"Ezre–" she whispered to the King as the numbness continued to take hold. "I can't feel anything..."

He frowned, wrapping an arm over her shoulders before casting a glare at the Lord. "Find Destry, tell her to contact Halavesta. She'll need medical attention."

"What is going on?" Lord Alvero demanded again.

Ezre ignored him, tucking Iliya in close and guiding her out of the archive.

She walked with her grandfather through the halls, unable to focus on anything, although she was vaguely aware of the presence guarding their flank.

Iliya's body was not her own, and panic warred inside of her.

The passage of time felt nonexistent.

"Breathe," he instructed softly. "We're almost there."

Iliya forced out a mechanical breath, and cold sweat washed over gooseflesh as she suddenly found herself stumbling into her room.

With a hand on her back and a quick stride, the King guided her inside. Her muscles were remembering what to do, as tremors caused her to shake.

Ezre knelt before her with a damp cloth and smoothed away the sweat from her face, sighing predictably. She knew he would make sure she was coherent before ushering her into bed and summoning dinner to her rooms.

In the last moon alone, three occasions had been enough to establish a pattern.

Iliya lifted her gaze to her grandfather as he inspected the runes along her wrist. His thumb traced over the last one, a cross with two fractal webs stretching east and west. As the black ink flickered in response, he whispered what she assumed to be a silent prayer.

Until she caught a few words of protection.

"Leithae Niotelgo," he said, the ink shining again.

Her thoughts were disconnected and blurry at best, but she couldn't understand what she needed protection from.

"Ezre..." she managed to murmur. "What's wrong with me?"

Her grandfather shook his head, eyes softening. "Nothing, Phrina."

"Am I going to–"

"Hush now," he interrupted, scooping her rings out of his pocket. "Everything is going to be okay. You just need to rest."

One by one, Ezre pushed each obsidian ring onto her fingers and laid the chains out properly before snapping her bracelet back over her wrist. The runes along her forearm faded away, leaving bare skin.

"Ezre..." she whimpered, slumping against her pillows, her consciousness slowly pulling away.

He shushed her again, picking up a blanket and draping it across her weak frame.

"Rest," he said, smiling sadly. "I'll be back in the morning."

Without another word, he turned and stepped out of the room. Iliya strained to listen as voices filled the hallway, her door still open a crack.

"Do not move from this door, do you understand me?" Ezre commanded, his tone firm. "We cannot leave her unprotected until the activation passes."

"I understand," a familiar voice replied. Her cousin Rhydian. "Is she going to be okay?"

"For now." Ezre answered. "Until we find a way to neutralize her Ionsia, she'll likely suffer more bouts of petrification. We must be prepared to intervene should anything happen at the festival."

Iliya's eyes grew heavier, forcing themselves shut as Ezre closed the door. Exhaustion sapped the life from her limbs as she tried to fight off sleep, only to fall deeper.

She used the last of her strength to memorize that one word. Ionsia.

To no avail.

Her consciousness drifted, the gray static of dreams fading in and out as she fought to keep her eyes open, to watch the sun rise and fall.

Turbulent magic ravaged her mind and body, manifesting in the form of swirling dark shadows and tingles that prickled her skin.

She closed her eyes, locking her thoughts inside.

~ 🔮 ~

Sorein didn't like Chiori Faire's industrial city. Perhaps it was the smell of pollution and sea brine that hit him as the boat delivered them to the dock. It might've been the atrocious yelling from sailor to sailor. Likely, it had something to do with the sketchy buildings with blown out windows.

As unnerving as it was to enter the country through this port, he still found it more appealing than facing the flock of Lords and Ladies that would be waiting in Mirror Falls.

The idea of royal chit-chat made his skin crawl. He'd sooner live in leviathan infested seas.

"Hey, were you even listening?" Jeremy, his father's second and one of the only people he deigned to call friend, shoved into him.

Sorein raised an eyebrow and smirked. "No, not particularly."

"Ass," Jeremy muttered. "It's time to go, unless you want to get stuck on some cruise to Nynoli."

Sighing, he followed Jeremy through the loading zones and into the dreary, gray streets. People gave them a wide berth as they stalked through the milling crowds.

Unlike Sorein's unassuming dark jacket and jeans, Jeremy was armed to the teeth, opting for Fae guard equipment.

No one would ever believe they were headed towards Chiori for Solstice. More like patrolling for illegal substances.

"The ladies man just messaged me," Jeremy chuckled, lifting his gaze from his device. "He's going to meet us later, something about a pub in Mirror Falls."

Sorein grumbled his acknowledgment.

Noah never minded traveling with the royals. They often teased him for it. The man had sworn never to let a moment of his immortality go to waste, not when no other human alive possessed it.

Noah had spun them wild tales about his journeys with Taranis, the God of Light and Life, bragging about saving the God and how, for his efforts, he was bestowed the ultimate gift.

"Let's hope he won't drink himself into oblivion," Sorein said, exhaling sharply. "I'd hate to miss Solstice looking for his sorry ass."

"Are you kidding?" Jeremy grinned. "Let him sleep in a ditch while we go to the Temple. I'll enjoy the peace and quiet."

This earned a laugh from Sorein. "Then who will deal with all the people? I, for one, don't feel like it."

"Heilos. I'd deal with people if it meant escaping his endless tirades about finding the perfect woman."

Sorein rolled his eyes but said nothing as he went back to inspecting the slick streets, focusing on finding the least infested way out of the city. He even considered transforming into his wolf form and running the shoreline instead.

He lifted his face to sniff the air, picking up the scents of the city of Torchkye, the island's transport mecca, and precisely what he was trying to avoid.

Jeremy groaned. "You're so determined to avoid the royals you're going to make me do something absurd to get into Chiori, aren't you?"

He didn't answer the complaint. It didn't merit one.

"Of course we're not going into the city the traditional route. Where would the fun be in that?"

"You know, Chiori Faire has the best security for a reason," Jeremy said. "They want to know who's entering, especially with the treaty up for discussion again."

Sorein nodded.

Chiori Faire was established by the Therian's in an attempt to build a neutral country. It was the only country in the world with an inter-species court.

And the only country with a dual species heir, something that put them at risk. And made them dangerous.

"So, who exactly are you avoiding?" Jeremy teased.

Sorein's mouth went dry at the thought of Chiori's heir, her lime green eyes damning him that night she'd sent him away, ordering him out of the Estate.

He shook away the memory, his gaze hardening. "No one," he muttered. "You know how the royals get."

A passable excuse coming from him.

Also a lie.

"Fair enough," Jeremy said, giving him a weary look.

His friend had never mentioned the morning after; the violent packing when Sorein had chosen to move back to Azuris.

And his father never asked questions, either. Surely chalking it up to the rash decision Sorein had made to move there in the first place.

Changeable.

The word his father had used.

"So where do we go from here?" Jeremy gestured in a few different directions.

Sorein didn't like any of his options. And while he did enjoy making Jeremy's life difficult from time to time, it was rarely worth the trouble. For his friend's sake, he gestured towards Torchkye and prayed to the Gods he could avoid every single soul.