The conversation with Atticus had gone well—better than I expected. Before leaving, he instructed me to clean up and find something comfortable to wear. He had matters to attend to, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I sat motionless in the bathtub, the once-warm water now cold against my skin. It was the most luxurious bath I'd ever had, yet I felt too drained to enjoy it. Curled up like a child, I struggled to process everything I'd learned.
Maybe this is all just a dream, I thought. Any moment now, Grandpa will wake me, reminding me of the medicines we still need to sell in the city. But no matter how many times I pinched myself, I didn't wake up. It was all real.
I remembered the nights I used to ask Lukas what lay beyond Gaiadom, dreaming of a life beyond our quiet little land. And now that I was here, I was hiding like a frightened child, waiting to be rescued. But no one was coming for me. If I wanted to survive this, I would have to save myself.
Taking a deep breath, I forced my shaky legs to stand and stepped out of the tub. I approached the mirror lined with golden trim, gazing at my reflection. My wet black hair fell in waves over my shoulders, framing my face. Wide chocolate-brown eyes stared back at me—eyes that seemed both familiar and foreign.
Lukas used to tease me, saying my looks could charm a wealthy man into marrying me. But none of that mattered now. I didn't need wealth or charm. I needed strength. I needed to prepare for whatever lay ahead.
I found a fitted black tunic with glowing green patterns along the edges, faintly pulsing like an enchanted thread. It was unlike anything I'd ever worn in Gaiadom, but it would do. Paired with black trousers stitched with matching green accents and sturdy boots, the outfit felt practical yet otherworldly.
I left my hair loose to dry and took one last look at myself in the mirror. Though I still carried the plainness of a girl from Gaiadom, the clothing made me look like someone else—someone ready to face what was coming.
A knock at the door broke my thoughts. Atticus was back. I took a steadying breath and opened the heavy wooden door.
"You look much better now, child," he greeted me with a warm smile. "Come. Food is ready, and the Elites will join us soon. We wouldn't want to keep them waiting."
Without a word, I followed him through the vast halls, my thoughts racing. How many Elites were there? I'd met Orion, Calen, and Sierra already. Were there others?
The dining hall was breathtaking, a grand space with a golden table stretched long enough to seat dozens. It was adorned with fruits I'd never seen before, their vibrant colors almost glowing under the light. Cakes and pastries sat delicately arranged, looking too perfect to eat.
"Did you prepare all this yourself?" I asked, awestruck.
Atticus chuckled. "Oh no, my assistants took care of it. They take pride in serving royalty, and such occasions are rare."
I glanced around the room, noting its pristine beauty. "I haven't seen anyone else here since I woke up," I said, my voice trailing as my eyes wandered to every corner.
"They're always around," he replied with amusement. "But they're selective creatures. They only show themselves to those who are… special."
"Powerful or royal, you mean?" I asked with a faint smile.
"Precisely," he said, his eyes twinkling.
I spotted a side hallway leading to another part of the place. My curiosity stirred, and I asked, "Would it be alright if I looked around while we wait for the Elites?"
He nodded. "Just don't wander too far. We wouldn't want you to miss their arrival."
"Thank you. I'll be back soon."
The hallway led me to a room unlike anything I'd seen—a gallery of history carved into stone and canvas. Paintings of epic battles covered the walls, their colors faded but vibrant in emotion. Armors, ancient and worn, stood proudly on pedestals, bearing the weight of stories untold.
The air was thick, heavy with the presence of something beyond time. I stepped forward cautiously, feeling the space pull at me. My chest tightened as visions began to flood my mind.
Blinding flashes of light and fire. Warriors wielding weapons that pulsed with unimaginable power. A man in golden armor brandished a sword wreathed in blue flames. Beside him stood a blonde woman, her bowstring taut with an arrow glowing like a star. Another figure, cloaked in silver, held a blade emanating light itself.
And then she appeared.
A woman with hair white as snow, her long dress trailing behind her as she walked with an ethereal grace. In her hands, she carried a sphere of pure light, its brilliance pushing back the surrounding darkness.
Their faces were a blur, but their presence was undeniable—heroes from a time long past, greater than any royalty I had seen.
The visions ended abruptly, leaving me breathless. I stumbled back, gripping a pedestal for support as my knees buckled. The air around me shifted, rippling like water.
From the shadows, a figure emerged.
It was unlike anything I'd ever encountered. Its sleek body shimmered with metallic feathers, shifting between silver, gold, and black as it moved. Its eyes glowed, their colors ever-changing, as if reflecting emotions I couldn't comprehend.
It circled me, graceful yet predatory, its movements deliberate. The air seemed to hum with its presence, and then it spoke.
"Vyn'thaele saryn'khalan, thoryn qal'enya?"
The voice resonated through me, melodic and haunting, vibrating in my bones. Though I couldn't understand the words, they carried an undeniable weight.
"I… I don't understand," I stammered, my voice barely audible.
The creature stopped, tilting its head as if studying me. It spoke again, this time sharper, its tone demanding.
"Syl'evar thaen voryn'kael, lyrin thu'ar neythal. Vyn'khal aesynar, thoryn jal'ayra?"
Though the language was foreign, fragments of meaning slipped into my mind: Blood of a god. Forbidden. Whose offspring?
A chill ran down my spine. My hands trembled as I whispered, "Who… what are you?"