King Asher stood in the dim light of his chamber, his grey eyes narrowed in thought as he surveyed the candles set in a perfect triangle on the stone floor. The faint flicker of their flames danced against the deep shadows of the room, casting twisted shapes on the walls. He had never been one to believe in rituals, power was something to be taken by force, through strategy and dominance, not the fickle whims of gods.
Yet, Zarafea had haunted him. Every time she appeared, her glowing crystal eyes seemed to beckon, filled with desperation and a promise of something far beyond the mundane. She had shown up in his visions, beautiful yet bedraggled, fragile yet powerful—a combination that intrigued him in ways he hadn't felt in years.
He wasn't sentimental, not for a woman or anyone else. But power came in many forms, and the gods—cursed though they were—held theirs in secret. If she wanted him, he would see why. He was no fool, and Byron's half-rotten face had shown enough concern to pique his curiosity further.
Byron's words echoed in his mind: *"Place three candles in a triangle, and when she next appears, let her speak. You may learn more than you think."*
Asher's jaw clenched. He didn't like riddles or games. But if this goddess sought him out, it was time for her to make her intentions clear.
The room was silent except for the distant crackle of the fire in the hearth, the warmth barely reaching the cool edges of his chamber. The curtains were drawn tightly, making the candlelight seem all the more vivid against the darkness. He stood in the center of the triangle, his hands clasped behind his back, waiting.
For a moment, there was only stillness. He stood tall, unmoved by the anticipation. Then, the flames of the candles flickered as if caught in an unseen breeze, and a faint shimmer appeared at the edge of his vision. He didn't react at first, his eyes cold as steel, but he sensed her presence.
Then, she was there.
Zarafea materialized, her silver hair cascading over her shoulders, her form as ethereal as the light itself. Her once-tattered dress now shimmered in a soft glow, yet the sorrow in her eyes remained. She hovered just within the boundary of the triangle, her luminous figure fragile yet commanding.
Asher kept his expression neutral, though inside, he was calculating. He made no move to welcome her, his stance rigid and unreadable.
"You came," he said, his voice low, carrying a hint of a taunt. "This time, you'll speak. Tell me what you want."
Zarafea's eyes met his, glowing softly in the dim light. She took a step forward, but the boundary of the triangle stopped her short. The candles flared briefly, as though acknowledging her presence.
"I have always sought you," she said, her voice as soft as a sigh but filled with a weight that lingered in the air. "But you did not listen."
Asher's lips curled into a cold smile. "I've little patience for tricks. Gods, dreams, it's all the same to me. What do you seek from a king like me?" His voice was sharp, cutting through the quiet like a blade.
Zarafea hesitated, her fingers brushing the edge of the light as though testing its warmth. "I seek freedom. I seek salvation. You are the one who can help me."
"And why would I do that?" Asher asked, crossing his arms. His tone was laced with cynicism, his eyes betraying none of the curiosity he felt. "What do I gain from freeing a goddess trapped in a nightmare?"
Zarafea's gaze softened, though her face remained etched with the same weariness that had haunted her. "More than you know. More than this kingdom can offer you. The world is larger than Eldranor, larger than the fae or other races, larger than the throne you hold so tightly."
Asher laughed softly, a bitter sound. "I hold the throne because I earned it. What would a goddess like you know about that?"
"I created the Enchanted Dimension," she replied quietly, "and you are its guardian, though you have forgotten the purpose you were meant to serve. I do not seek to take your throne, Asher. I seek your aid in breaking the chains that bind us both."
Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, silence reigned. Asher's gaze flicked over her, searching for any hint of deception. But all he saw was a deep sadness and, beneath it, a glimmer of hope.
He took a step closer, his towering form casting a shadow over her. "You say we're both bound. How? What chains hold me, goddess?"
Zarafea's voice trembled, though not from fear. "You are bound to this world, to a destiny that was written before you were born. You believe yourself free, but you are as much a prisoner as I am. The sorcerer's curse that stole your family, the darkness that festers in your heart, it keeps you from seeing the truth."
His jaw clenched at the mention of his family, a shadow crossing his features. His eyes darkened, and for a moment, his voice was cold as ice. "You dare mention them?"
She lowered her eyes, regret flashing across her face. "I do not mean to wound you, Asher. But there is more to your past than pain. I can help you reclaim what was lost. But I need you, just as you need me."
Asher's smirk returned, though there was no humor in it. "Need you? I need no one, goddess. If you want my help, you'll need to offer more than riddles."
Zarafea looked up, her eyes glowing brighter, and for the first time, there was a flash of defiance in her expression. "Then listen closely, Asher. If you help me break free of the Nightmare Dimension, you will not only save your kingdom but all the realms. And in return, I will give you the power to destroy the sorcerer who took everything from you."
The room seemed to tremble with her words, the flames of the candles flickering wildly. Asher remained silent, his mind racing. Zarafea's offer was tempting, dangerously so. But he wasn't a fool. He wouldn't trust her blindly.
He stepped back, his expression cold once more. "I will consider your offer," he said, his voice measured. "But do not think to deceive me. If you do, I will make you wish for the very chains you seek to break."
Zarafea nodded, her form flickering as she began to fade. "I will return when you are ready, Asher. But know this—you and I are bound by fate. Whether you choose to help me or not, we are destined to meet again."
With that, she vanished, leaving only the flickering flames of the candles behind.
Asher stood in the silence of his chamber, his mind whirling with the implications of her words. Power was always the key—but this time, it seemed it might come from the most unexpected of places.