Cascading hair like soft golden threads.
And eyes that hold the sorrow of Stars.
Holy fucking Stars.
The air is ripped from Elyssara’s chest.
She had seen Nyrielle before. In the vision. In a single memory. And as time went, in fragments. But she’s seen her here, too. In the realms. In Nymeris. On the godsdamned throne. She had never been looking for a goddess in a queen. Never imagined they could be the same woman.
She chokes on the realization.
Lara’s voice is steady through the riot of emotions that flood Elyssara’s veins.
“Nyrielle died that night,” Lara says softly.
“But Ilyra?”
Her gaze sharpens.
“She was born.”
The room spins. Elyssara’s mind whips and thrashes.
Nyrielle and Ilyra are one and the same. Elyssara suddenly understands why entire civilizations once feared gods enough to worship them.
Nyrielle, Goddess of Light and Wonder, is Ilyra, Queen of Nymeris.
The Goddess that exiled her own brothers and sisters—the pantheon of the Known Realms. She left them godless. Lawless. Forsaken.
“How? How did she just take over a kingdom?” Elyssara grits out.
Lara shrugs. “You think Dravara is the only kingdom under the effects of threvenar, Lightborne?” She asks the question like the answer is obvious.
And it is.
“No… I don’t,” Elyssara admits. “I think Ilyra has rewritten history so it tells the exact story she needs it to.”
Her gut twists, bile rises in her throat.
“Kingdoms are easy things for gods to inherit when they rewrite history to their liking and possess power that cannot be rivaled, Lightborne.” Lara says the words like they’re obvious. Like she knows Elyssara is facing odds she cannot possibly beat. “Something made her choose this. I just don’t care what it is,” Lara adds.
But then the question that Elyssara should’ve been asking all along lands with the finality of a guillotine.
“What does she want?” Elyssara chokes out.
Lara huffs a laugh. “I don’t know. I don’t care. Understanding the motivations of gods, kings, and queens is laborious, and not particularly useful.”
Elyssara rolls her eyes, and huffs in frustration. “Then why now? Why make a move now?”
Lara stares at her with bored exasperation. “I’d wager she’s been waiting.”
“For what?” Elyssara snaps.
“Not what.Who.”
Elyssara swallows the words like shards of glass.
“The Lightborne. The prophecy.”
