Wrong.

The air felt wrong.

A chiming glass disrupted the tentative grip Iliya had on reality, stunting her frustration for a moment.

"Thank you all for joining us this evening," Ezre announced, raising his glass. "Mah Theileh Bendite, Aida."

May Aida Bless us all.

She knew he would begin the Ceremony, calling Sorein up shortly after. They would all offer their prayers to Aida as he entered the Chamber. She just had to breathe through it, pace herself.

The room grew eerily quiet, footsteps and glasses silencing with unnerving subtlety. Iliya could hear the sounds of gowns breezing across the floor, of a soft wind rippling against the window panes, but the pounding in her head became obnoxious.

She didn't know when she'd let go of Sorein's hand, but the distance between them deepened a step as he prepared to be called.

"Tonight we honor Aida in the light of Solstice, protecting the blessing offered to our Houses three centuries ago," The King continued. "If you'd all be so kind as to give our guests your attention."

Ezre was staring between Andrin and Sorein now.

Iliya knew she was holding her breath, her fingers curling in on themselves, but she couldn't force herself to inhale.

Andrin offered a shallow bow, his haggard features smoothed with false emotion. Iliya hadn't noticed how tired he was before, the King of Azuris always looked peaceful and calm, as if lint wouldn't even risk offending him. Yet now his short, black hair sprawled over his ears, chaotic and shaggy in comparison to the greased look she was familiar with. His suit was wrinkled as if he'd been wearing it for days. Iliya thought she saw a gleam in his gaze, as though his eyes were bloodshot and overworked.

Bile shot up her throat and she swallowed tightly. Even he appeared out of sorts, another bad omen boiling in her blood.

"Many thanks," Andrin said, nodding. "On this longest day, we gather not only to offer our blessings to Aida, but to the longevity of our world's peace. I see so many faces, so many people who've come to share in our unity and it brings me a sense of solace, knowing we've overcome turbulence and tragedy in these last years."

Iliya wasn't certain she would ever fully grasp the depths of his truth. She'd been sheltered, both by her family and herself.

Still, she glanced around the room to see both royalty and commonfolk. There was a presence from every country, from every continent.

The King seemed to consider something before continuing. "Within my life I haven't had the pleasure of seeing true harmony, though I believe now it has become possible," he began, his gaze gracing everyone and no one at the same time. Andrin took another deep breath. "This is in large part due to my son, whose perspective and experiences have made him an invaluable influence in my life. Tonight, I would like us to celebrate the years of peace to come, and the Sealing of Sorein as he embraces his true purpose."

She wanted to be happy for him, she wanted to look over and see his pleasure in this moment and feel pride. She was certain she could do it too. Until Iliya peered over to see something cold and broken, frosting the edges of those storming eyes, his posture locked as she'd once been.

Sorein had the strangest conflict written on his features. The pride and irritation battled for dominance inside of him, even as he stood before the dias with calm reverence.

"Sorein." Ezre smiled down at him. "Come, join us."

He glanced at Iliya once, nodding to her before turning away.

"Rein..." she whispered, the name squeaking out. Her objections and fears sewn to her tongue like foul secrets.

The tiniest corner of his lip quirked. The bond between them tingled. "Go to Qudja, she's across the floor to your left."

His strange warning flared in her chest, static fear warping into a volatile disturbance. Iliya hadn't even known her new friend was in the crowd, let alone where she was.

Iliya was surprised he didn't seek out Rhydian or Siofra to send her to. Instead his eyes flickered to the dark skinned woman in a beautiful ivory gown with two golden shawls and a sparkling belt.

Sorein must've noticed the panic in her eyes because he softened. "Everything will be okay, now go Irie."

She obeyed, gripping her skirts in her hands and slipping away while everyone grew distracted with his sudden rise to the dias.

Sorein adopted the regal, princely grace she always saw him wear in public. He didn't slouch now, his frame towering over most of the guests in the audience with a confidence she didn't know to be possible.

At least not for her.

Qudja covertly gestured for Iliya to step in line with her, her movements hidden behind her back. She smiled tightly, keeping her attention on the stage.

"It is an honor," Sorein said softly, bowing once to his father and Ezre, then again to the crowd. "As well as a privilege to Seal myself in Aida's Chamber."

Iliya noticed the murmurs of agreement and approval rumbling through the crowd. Though many countries tended to their own temples, Aida was universally loved for her sacrifice and compassion. Her actions to protect the world from the Void were honored on every land.

She'd always watched those who were skeptical of Andrin's family line. The children of Heithos were feared for two centuries before Sorein was born.

Afraid to ask, Iliya was faintly aware people either loved or feared him.

All Iliya had ever known for certain was his loyalty to Aida had either blessed or cursed him.

So lost in her thoughts, her eyes vaguely tracked the Prince as he stepped from the Dias to the chamber.

The crowd watched silently as he lifted his hand to the translucent aura, quiet whispers growing louder as the sheath of energy disappeared and allowed him inside.

The hollow sensation in Iliya's gut started to spread, icing her veins as her friend became a glowing silhouette.

"Do you think he'll survive?" A woman asked her companion.

Iliya felt her throat tighten, casting a glare through the crowd to try and locate the owner of such a repulsive question.

A taller man turned to look at her. "I've heard a royal's power can consume them," he answered. "Should he be Sealing himself too young without the training, the Prince could very well go mad."

She almost showered the marble floors with her lunch. Horror and rage warped in her gut, twisting in time with her awful intuition. Iliya's fists clenched with her gut, nails carving into her palms.

"Don't listen to them," Qudja breathed into her ear. "We shall stand vigil and support the Prince, no?"

Mechanically forcing herself to nod, Iliya felt the Chieftain's daughter slip a hand into her own. Qudja gave a tight, reassuring squeeze before turning her honeyed eyes back towards the chamber.

In an attempt to distract herself, Iliya roughly spun one of the rings one her left hand, the chain groaning in protest. She looked around, keeping track of Rhydian, Siofra, Sorein's friends in the corner. Her mother standing beneath the dias, watching intently with a proud smile.

Everyone's guard softened by the speeches, preparing to say their prayers.

Her insides began to tremble with fear and anticipation as the Aphyre began to glisten and flicker with a wild array of purples and blues.

The hushed whispers of the synconized words filled the ballroom. Soothing invocations children could remember from their nights tucked into warm blankets.

Heads tipped down to pray, the Mana sparking around the large crystals shaft went missed.

Iliya lost sight of their connection, the ties between them evaporating as if they'd never existed at all.

She really was going to throw up now.

Breathe, she told herself over and over again. Just breathe.

Iliya had witnessed the Sealing Ceremony so many times now, always for someone she barely knew or couldn't remember. Not many were relatives or even from their country. She supposed this would carry out the way they always did.

The ground started to tremor ever so slightly, a power rippling through the room and sweeping over every surface. A presence. As if his Mana couldn't be contained.

Her heart clenched again, shuddering.

"His birth was prophesied," an old woman's voice echoed now. Iliya didn't recognize her. "The gods fear him."

"Iliya."

She couldn't hear over the ringing burning in her ears. No, not over the words ricocheting her head.

The floor rumbled with strain now, dust fluttering down from the beams overhead.

"Iliya," the voice hissed again.

Her body was locked, frozen and trembling.

A fissure split through the stone beneath them, sending a few guests on their behinds.

Loud screaming erupted from the crowd. "The Aphyre! The cracks!"

"It's shattering!"

A deeper voice Iliya once recognized shouted outwards. Rhydian. "Take shelter!"

Blood dripped from her palm and Qudja's clasped grip, the burning and searing ebbing up Iliya's arms faint compared to the roaring inside her head.

An earthquake ripped through the room and scattered everyone in all directions. Screams echoed along the walls as chaos broke out. Glass shattered as the pressure swelling through the air intensified.

"He's going to kill us!" A Therian male growled.

But Iliya was gone, her head raging and lost within the static.

Swallowed in the darkness.