Chapter 4
A woman stood in the center of her ornate study, her red hair glowing like fire in the soft, flickering light of the fireplace. The tall stone walls were lined with shelves filled with ancient tomes; their pages worn with time. A grand tapestry hung behind her, depicting the majestic history of Elaria - distant mountains and vibrant forests stretching far into the horizon. The room was an eclectic blend of elegance and old-world charm, with a heavy oak desk scattered with maps and letters, the scent of parchment thick in the air. Massive windows framed the evening sky, casting a golden light across the room as the sun began to set.
A man’s boots clacked sharply against the stone floor as he paced back and forth, his dark grey wings folding against his back, almost blending into the shadows. His face was laced with frustration, but he kept his patience and maturity. The tension between them, however, was palpable, crackling like a storm about to break.
"Lusana, we’ve been looking for days," His voice was low but sharp, carrying the weight of exhaustion. "There is no sign of another Keeper. The stone is gone, destroyed. Just accept that your dream was just that, a dream."
Lusana’s wings, pale white and shimmering in the dim light, fluttered slightly as she turned to face him fully. The firelight caught the edges of her hair, making it seem like a cascade of flames. She didn’t flinch at his words, but her voice trembled with the intensity of her conviction.
“What do you think winged feline means!?” Her words came out in a fierce burst, as though they had been building up for days. “It was talking about an alefaeris, Taron, and where there’s an alefaeris, there’s a Keeper it’s bonded to. It wasn’t a dream, Taron - it was a goddamn warning.”
Taron’s jaw tightened, but his voice remained steady, though tinged with doubt. “Lusana, you were there when the aetherstone was destroyed. There cannot be a Keeper without it, and even if there was… he needs the blood of a Keeper and the stone if he wishes to go through with what he tried to years ago.” He tried to reason with her.
Lusana’s hands clenched at her sides, the sudden heat of her frustration radiating outward. Her voice was barely a whisper of fury. “We don’t know that! Everything we know about turning oneself into a Keeper is based solely off of legend. You didn’t hear the urgency in the voice that spoke to me, did you? It is not the time for assumptions, Taron. That could put the entire fate of Elaria at risk!”
Whilst Lusana’s outrage was spoken with determination and anger, Taron could see the anxiety in her ocean blue eyes. Her words were spoken out fear, not anger. It was fear and desperation that her lack of reason came from.
Taron opened his mouth to speak, but Lusana didn’t allow him the chance. She stepped forward, her wings spreading slightly behind her like a protective barrier.
“I am your leader, Taron," she said, her voice steady and commanding, but the shaky breath afterwards reinforced what Taron already assumed was the true reason behind this fight. "And you will keep looking.”
Taron didn’t respond immediately. His eyes searched hers, looking for any trace of hesitation, but found none. The last of his doubts fading into the quiet space between them, understanding that sometimes there was no use in saying all that he wished to. Words require careful balance between the said and the unsaid.
As the firelight flickered and cast long shadows across the room, Lusana turned back to the maps scattered across the table. Her fingers lightly traced a line on the ancient parchment, as if she could see the girl she was searching for hidden within the inked paths of Elaria. In her heart, she knew the fate of her people rested on finding this mysterious Keeper - and she would stop at nothing to protect them. This girl would be their savior, she was determined of that.
As Taron stepped out the door, his sharp eyes caught the faint outline of a shadow stretching along the stone floor. A person-like shadow.
He sighed. Really?
“Really, Aric?” His voice carried a tinge of exasperation, though amusement softened the edge. He had never been one to get mad at a kid.
A teenage boy stepped out from behind the doorway, sheepish but unapologetic.
“Curiosity killed the cat, you know?” Taron added, folding his arms.
Aric grinned, though his gaze flickered with something more serious. “Is there actually another Keeper?”
Taron exhaled, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “I don’t know,” he admitted.
A beat of silence stretched between them before Aric spoke again, quieter this time. “Taron?”
“Yeah?”
There was hesitation in his voice now. “Do you think… if the stone hadn’t been destroyed, if the Keepers were still alive—do you think my parents wouldn’t have died in the battle?”
Taron stilled for a moment. Aric had only been a baby when the battle with the Ravens and their power hungry leader took them. His parents had fought fiercely, giving their lives to protect Elaria. After their deaths, he had been taken in by a family raising a girl around his age, one that was now like a sister to him. But Aric had never been the type to stay in one place for long. Even as a toddler, he was always on the move - darting from place to place, often at Taron’s, and wherever else he could squeeze himself into. Over the years, Taron had grown used to the boy’s sudden appearances.
And he had grown to care for him.
Taron chose his words carefully. “I think it does no good to dwell on the ‘what ifs.’ It’s too easy to be consumed by them.” He placed a hand on Aric’s shoulder, firm but gentle. “But I do know that they would have loved you more than anything.”
Aric lowered his gaze to his hands, the weight of unspoken thoughts settling over him. “I’m sorry for eavesdropping,” he muttered.
Taron let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “It’s okay. You just gotta learn not to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, yeah?” He reached out, ruffling the boy’s hair.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, big guy.” Aric batted his hand away, flashing a grin before turning on his heel and dashing off down the corridor.