Three
Shaye
Begrudgingly Nyx follows me and Thrane through the palace and down the winding staircase deep into the dungeons. I had mentally pictured the dungeons being dark and damp and smelling like sewers. To my surprise, the dungeons don't look any different than the rest of Stelara. Although it is much colder down here which causes my teeth to chatter.
I wrap my arms around myself but can't seem to find an ounce of warmth. As if a thousand tiny needles are poking my skin. I puff out a breath and see it floating in front of me. I glance back at Nyx, sure he's also struggling, but I'm shocked he's not showing any signs of being cold. Thrane too shows no sign of discomfort.
"What is this his-s-story lesson you are s-s-so eager to t-t-teach me," I stutter.
Thrane ignores my question, motioning me forward. I roll my eyes and continue down the corridor.
As we come to a door at the very end of the hallway, there's a statue of a woman with her eyes closed and hands in a praying position. I approach her and a warm familiarity hits me. I know I've never seen her before, but I feel as if I know her. With reverence, I reach up and touch her hand. Suddenly, I see her. It's brief but I see her golden eyes and brown skin. She smiles down at me. The light hits her gold adornments just enough for her to radiate like the sun itself. As I smile up at her, her own smile fades, followed by darkness and screams.
Nyx grabs my shoulders and yanks me away from the statue. We fall to the cold floor in a heap.
"Kitarni, what the hell was that? Why did you scream?"
"I didn't scream," I insist, wiping sweat from my brow. How am I sweating? It's freezing down here. "She screamed."
I glance from Nyx up to Thrane who remains stoic but fascinated.
Thrane clasps his hands behind his back. "This type of encounter has happened before."
A statement.
"Yes," I admit. "But up until now, it's only pertained to my father."
"What about dreams?" Thrane presses. "Nightmares? Visions?"
"I seem to have more nightmares than dreams these days. And they all feel real. Like I can't escape them." The admission causes my throat to dry and my shoulders tense. "I fear they'll actually happen."
Thrane nods as if everything I just said is normal. "Seems your light magic isn't the only thing you inherited from your Sol bloodline. You have the gift of Celestial Sight."
"What is Celestial Sight?" I ask as Nyx helps me stand up.
"Certain Celestials can touch objects imbued with Holy Magic and get a glimpse of a memory," Thrane explains. "They even have visions while they sleep, glimpses of the future."
My mind races and my stomach flips. I start to remember all the incidents I've encountered Celestial Sight. It started back in Bava at the ruined temple. But again, all those instances were in relation to my father.
But it's the nightmares that make me sick. Darkness, suffering, torment. That's all I see when my eyes close. My friends are tortured. My throat is slit. In the end, I fail to save them and myself.
Tears prick my eyes. I fix my gaze on the woman's statue once more. "Who is she?" I need to purge the nightmares from my mind.
Thrane stands shoulder to shoulder with me and looks up at her. "Izara Sol. She is your aunt."
"Is she alive?"
"No one knows for sure. All that is known for certain is she fought alongside Oryn and Naya and was close with our ancestor, Bain Basilius." Thrane explains the history as if he's reliving it, drawing me in. "There are multiple differing stories that Izara sacrificed herself to save her friends, or she was captured by the enemy and was never seen again and even reports that the Demon King drained her Holy Magic, so she wanders this realm as a wraith."
"Did Bain not give an account after the war?" I ask, hoping Bain survived.
"From what I've heard over the years, when Bain returned from the war, he was never the same. He went slightly mad. All his free time was spent sculpting statues of her. Each one is erected throughout Stelara, and his favorite was placed in the Temple."
"He mourned her," I whisper.
"Yes," Thrane agrees. "He mourned her the rest of his days."
"What was she to him?" Nyx asks, finally invested in the story.
