Everyone else took form. Aerén inclined his head at the new arrivals, the playful man she knew nowhere in sight. Outside the building, the murmur of many voices echoed in the air, adding to the tension.
“I’m going out there to speak to them first, to bring them up to speed with what’s happening with the islands,” he told her. “Then Daén will escort you and Hana outside, okay?”
Leya nodded, inhaling deeply as her father and Hana joined her. Aerén left…
* * *
The noise dropped the moment Aerén took form on the erected dais in the enormous amphitheater where all public meetings occurred.
Curtsies and bows followed his arrival.
“I know you wait for news of what has occurred…” In one sweep, he took in the vast crowd congregating there, out onto the fields on the right, and to the mountains on his left. It seemed like all of Élendium had gathered. “We managed to save Akkeris.”
Loud cheering erupted.
He waited for them to calm down. “There is more…”
He didn’t hide the truth, not when they lived with the same pain of hopelessness, of no soul-joined matings, no babes born in over two thousand years, and now the destruction of their world.
“Lokren Island sank not because of the weather that plagues us during the storm season, but because of a sorcerer who wants to take down Empyrea. He rigged several spells to sink the island. He’d planned the same fate for Akkeris. Allatus managed to undo the spells, but the island has split in two.”
A rush of ire clouded the air as the people’s rage grew.
“I understand your anger, but remember, in this deadly war with the sorcerer, we won this round.”
“Did you find the vilecaeni?” someone yelled.
And another, “Will it be safe to go back home?”
“No, we haven’t found him yet. As for the island, it’s better to wait until we’re sure there’ll be no backlash from the spell and the island’s core is stabilized. However, those affected and who lost their homes will have a choice to rebuild on the island or in Shegria. The council will get in touch with you.
“Remember, we have lived thousands of years without hope of ever getting back all that we’d lost. But hope has returned to our world. A few Chosen are already living on Empyrea, and as more of them are found, the magic will only get stronger.”
“Where are they?” a male called out.
Aerén wasn’t surprised at the question. “As of now, one lives in Kalasder. She’s mated to the warlord, Northaen. Two are in Dregarus; one’s mated to the warlord, Sebris, and another to one of his enforcers. The High Lord, Reynner, will take his mate to his territory of Ademéras—”
“What about us?” a lone voice asked. “The female who was pushed into the river, is she not a Chosen?” The silence drew dense, like a dark cloud gathering.
Maybe he should have started by introducing Leya and Hana.
He lifted a hand, stalling any more questions, and glanced back to the building set at the foot of the mountains and away from the amphitheater. Hispateriwould wait in the office until the closure of his speech, because standing out here would be a strain for him, not that he’d admit it.
Leya?he telepathed.Come, caeli mea. Let my people meet the light of my life and see the hope they’ve longed for.
The air shimmered. Anedaén appeared on the raised platform with Leya and Hana on either side, holding onto his arms, his warriors at their back.
Instantly, the crowd went into a deep curtsey.
Anedaén nodded, then stepped back. Thiorr took form with Leya’s sire, along with Aerén’s enforcers, all aligning behind them.
Leya glided to him, her scarf fluttering behind her like wings. A pin drop could be heard as he reached for Leya’s hand, then led Hana to his other side.
“Members of the council, people of the court of Cidéra, and of all Élendium, I’d like to present Leyathi and Hana Park of Earth. Both are Chosen—”
An explosion of applause and cheering erupted, chasing away the stifling heaviness.
“Lady Hana, will you be my mate?” one brave soul yelled.
