I look at Zyar in astonishment before my gaze shifts to the breathtaking surroundings. His warning about the dangers of the Nexari echoes in the back of my mind, yet at this moment, I am far more captivated by its beauty.

  …There lies the truth… in the whisper of the winds.

  “That was…?” I exclaim in surprise, spinning around as I search. But as suddenly as the voice appeared, it has vanished again. No one else seems to have heard it. “Mother?”

  “Isilyn?” Zyar asks, perplex, his expression marked by curious bewilderment as he glances around. “Did you hear your mother’s voice?”

  I nod hesitantly. “I’m not sure if it was really her or perhaps one of those Synnx you mentioned. But I know it wasn’t the woman’s voice I’ve been hearing since childhood.”

  “Woman’s voice?” Zyar repeats, his face thoughtful. Now he’s the one seeking answers. How the tables turn. “What does she say to you?”

  “Only strange things,” I admit, frowning. “She’s always urged me to break free, and last night she even appeared in my dreams. I saw you there too, Zyar—up in the sky.”

  Zyar furrows his brow, pointing at himself questioningly. “Me? You must be mistaken. I only arrived today with Sylas. Last night, we were in Solnya making final preparations for your rescue.”

  How can that be? The figure in the sky, commanding lightning with ease—that wasn’t Zyar? Yet he and the apparition both wore black cloaks! Was I too quick to draw conclusions?

  “Who did you see in the sky last night?” Zyar asks as Sylas listens intently, his expression skeptical. “Sylas, do you know anything about another Solniw who might have followed us?”

  Solniw? Are those the people of this place called Solnya?

  Sylas shakes his head. “That’s impossible. Vespera saw the stranger yesterday, and we only arrived here today.”

  Zyar’s face reflects concern. The information I’ve just given him doesn’t just surprise him; it unsettles him. “I’ll look into it as soon as we reach the village,” he says finally, gesturing for us to follow him.

  As Zyar takes the lead, his eyes scanning the surroundings cautiously, Sylas stays at my side. His smile is warm, almost soothing—a curious contrast to my turbulent thoughts.

  “Does it still hurt?” he asks quietly, his gaze compassionate.

  I raise an eyebrow. “What exactly?”

  “The bruises on your face,” he says gently. “If you’d like, I can heal them. I know I couldn’t remove the scar on your arm, but this should be easier.”

  Unbidden, my thoughts drift back to Lord Louweris. My chest tightens painfully, and I see in my mind’s eye his brutal fists and those greedy, power-hungry eyes.

  “Why are you being so kind to me?” I ask, still wary. “Does this have something to do with Elindros and my claim to the throne? Are you trying to earn my trust?”

  Sylas pauses briefly, studying me with a contemplative look. His reaction is hard to read—did I hurt him, or is he simply trying to understand me?

  “No, forgive me,” he says at last, his voice soft, almost apologetic. “This has nothing to do with your destiny. It’s more... who I am. I care about others. Besides, my father spent years searching for you. And...”

  He hesitates, as though searching for the right words. “...I know you’ve been through a lot. Especially because of this Lord Louweris.”

  Lord Louweris. The name lingers over me like a curse—ever present, ever painful. There’s no escape from these memories, no way to simply erase them.

  “How much longer until Solnya?” I ask, eager to change the subject.

  Zyar glances back over his shoulder. My feet relish the gentle sensation of the Nexari ground. Though I had hoped my escape would let me feel grass and earth beneath me again, I can’t complain about the soft surface of this in-between dimension.

  Zyar points to the Astralis. The floating orb begins to glow. Only now do I realize I haven’t looked for it since we entered the Nexari.

  “The Astralis is guiding us,” he explains. “It shows the path directly to our destination.”

  “How does this…”—I hesitate for a moment—“…orb know where we want to go? Did you set it up somehow? Is that even possible?”

  A faint smile crosses his lips. “No, the Astralis knows our hearts. As soon as you touch it, it understands where you wish to go. And please… don’t call it an orb.”

  “I didn’t realize my words were poorly chosen,” I admit apologetically. “The Astralis must be something important for Elindros, isn’t it?”

  Zyar nods in agreement and explains, “Correct. Only through the Astralis can we enter the Nexari. That’s why this place is a unique opportunity for you.”

  “There’s no other way?” I ask, and both men shake their heads. “How did you come to possess the Astralis, then?”

  But before I can get an answer, the Astralis glows brightly, forcing me to squint against the light.

  “We’re close,” Zyar announces with relief.

  “I smell an intruder…” a sudden, unfamiliar voice whispers. “Sisters… hear me.”

  “Damn it,” Zyar hisses, glancing toward me. “My son, protect her.”

  “I didn’t expect them to find us so quickly,” Sylas remarks in surprise, stepping closer to me. “Forgive me, Vespera, if I must grab your arm out of necessity.”

  “W-Why?” I stammer, my mind racing. Who does this voice belong to? Are these the Synnx?

  “Don’t look them in the eyes,” Sylas whispers to me. “They are extremely dangerous. Leave them to my father.”

  That was certainly already my plan. How could I possibly communicate with beings whose existence I only learned about minutes ago? Until just moments ago, I didn’t even expect them to speak our language. It’s curious, though, that Sylas and Zyar, who are from Elindros, speak the language of humans. Is that just a coincidence? All these questions will be answered in Solnya. The puzzles in my mind will no longer weigh on me.

  “We have permission!” Zyar calls into the emptiness, gesturing toward the Astralis. “You needn’t concern yourselves with us!”

  “SHE DOESN’T!” the same female voice calls back sharply.

  Sylas now stands directly at my side, barely millimeters separating us. I can feel the worry radiating from him. But it’s not fear for himself—no, he’s afraid he won’t be able to protect me.

  Just as I begin to wonder what’s about to happen, three figures appear out of nowhere. I hold my breath.

  The girls—I assume they must be the so-called Synnx—have an appearance so otherworldly that I couldn’t have imagined it even in my wildest dreams. Each of them exudes an aura of something supernatural… something menacing.

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  The first one has short, greenish-silver hair that shimmers like luminous leaves in the dim light. Her golden eyes glow as if they’re peering directly into my soul, while her wings—deep black and majestic—cast fleeting shadows with every movement.

  The second has long, turquoise-blue hair intricately styled in an elegant updo. She looks so ethereal that it seems as if the light itself dances around her. Her glowing golden eyes radiate an air of royalty. Her wings glisten like molten obsidian, elegantly curved and of an almost surreal perfection, as if sculpted from darkness itself. But what truly captivates me is the symbol on her chest. Upon closer inspection, I realize all three girls bear the same symbol.

  And then there’s the third. Her hair is like living fire, orange and gold, flowing around her shoulders like an untamed flame. Her emerald-green eyes seem intent on piercing through me, while her moss-green skin, speckled with delicate, rose-colored freckles, makes her look like a spirit of the wild. Her black wings remind me of a predatory bird poised to strike at any moment.

  Each of them are different, yet they share something in common: they appear as if they stand above me, as if they wield a power capable of consuming me whole. Yes, they are beautiful—but not in a way that brings comfort. Their beauty is dangerous, like a flower hiding lethal poison.

  “These are the Nyrelis-Sisters,” Sylas whispers, his voice tense. “How could they have detected you so quickly?”

  I swallow hard. I don’t know if it’s better to flee or to remain rooted in place. But one thing is certain: the Sisters are here, and they leave no doubt that they won’t be departing anytime soon.

  What do they want from me? Why are the Synnx so concerned that I entered the Nexari without permission? Are they the guardians of this in-between dimension? The Sisters fix their cold gaze on me, making my blood run cold. Only Sylas’ presence beside me keeps me from bolting, terrified, from this unpredictable threat.

  “Our companion entered out of necessity,” Zyar explains calmly. His words, though not a lie, carefully avoid the full truth. “Surely this matter can be resolved in another way. Violence is not always the answer.”

  “What do you think, Alora and Seraphina?” asks the girl in the middle, her turquoise-blue hair catching the dim light. Her split tongue flicks out from her lips, accompanied by a disdainful click. “Shall we show mercy, just this once?”

  Her tone drips with mockery. She openly scorns Zyar’s plea, and though I still don’t fully understand why the Synnx are so dangerous, I sense that underestimating them would be a grave mistake. Their very presence is oppressive; without my companions’ support, I would surely freeze in terror.

  “Hmm… well, Celestara,” replies the girl with greenish-silver hair—Alora, as I now know. Her voice is almost a whisper, calm yet menacing. “You know that Seraphina and I enjoy trading in the body parts of Elindine.” Both Sisters chuckle in malicious harmony.

  I swallow again. These beings—Alora, Celestara, and Seraphina—are undeniably breathtaking. But up close, their beauty radiates danger, like an invisible blade held to my throat.

  “Well, Alora, consider this…” adds Seraphina, the sister with the fiery orange-gold hair. Her emerald-green eyes glint ominously. “A single strand of her white hair could fetch us a fortune.”

  At her words, she suddenly falls silent. Her eyes narrow as she examines me more closely. “White hair… Only a very specific group of Elindine have such a color.”

  Zyar desperately tries to defuse the situation. “We don’t need to go so far as to claim the young girl’s body! She dyed her hair only recently. Naturally, she has brown hair.” Or perhaps he’s trying to change the subject… Why is he lying about my natural hair color?

  “LIES!” the Sisters roar in unison, their voices reverberating like ominous thunder in my ears. Alora hisses, her golden eyes blazing with fury: “Trespassing into the Nexari is an offense. Lying to the Nyrelis-Sisters is an unforgivable crime. You have signed your own death sentence, filth from Elindros!”

  The Sisters’ wings strike the ground with a deafening impact, stirring up dust and wind. In a flash, they shoot into the air, their deep-black wings a whirlwind of gleaming feathers that casts the room into shadow. The serene atmosphere of the Nexari, which had so gently enveloped me upon my arrival, is swallowed by this looming darkness.

  Now Zyar positions himself at my side as well. Father and son stand like a living wall between me and the Nyrelis-Sisters. Their determination is palpable—they would do anything to protect me.

  But I don’t want to be a burden. I must do something… but what?

  “SPEAK, ELINDINE!” Seraphina suddenly bellows, her gaze boring into mine with undeniable intent. Elindine? What does that mean? The term has come up before—could it refer to the inhabitants of Elindros? But I can’t dwell on the question for long, because the Sisters begin to transform before my very eyes.

  Their beauty gives way to grotesque forms: elongated snouts filled with rows of razor-sharp teeth and hands ending in claws as long as fingers, gleaming menacingly with every movement. Is this their true form?

  “ARE YOU THE LOSNIW?” Seraphina shrieks, her voice harsh and threatening.

  “What does she mean by that?” I ask, confused, looking to Zyar and Sylas, who have positioned themselves protectively in front of me. “What is a Losniw?”

  Their mocking laughter slices through the air like a blade. They’ve noticed my confusion, and it seems to amuse them even more. Just as I’m about to ask Zyar another question, I feel a violent gust of wind to my right. Turning, I see Celestara, the Sister with turquoise hair, crumpled on the ground, clutching her head with a pained expression.

  Sylas is panting, and Zyar looks tense. They must have done something to fend off her attack, but it seems to have cost them dearly.

  “Father, these beings are incredibly strong,” Sylas admits, casting me a worried glance. “We need to get Vespera out of here.”

  Zyar gives a curt nod. “I need a moment to gather my strength. Sylas, do the same. Vespera, you must distract them until then!”

  Distract them? How on earth am I supposed to distract these beings? What could possibly capture their interest? Tales of murdering Elindine? Tips on how to claim their ears? I have no idea whether I even belong to the Elindine.

  The Sisters rush to Celestara and help her up. Alora, the sister with the greenish-silver hair, hisses angrily, “You dare attack a Synnx and think you can get away with it? We are the merchants of this dimension for a reason! These grey eyes alone could fetch me a fortune!”

  Celestara rubs her aching head, her voice filled with hatred, “If she is the vessel, we will fetch a much higher sum for her intact body!”

  Her hungry gaze falls on me. It’s as though I’m an animal they’ve finally cornered after a long hunt.

  “Vessel?” I repeat aloud, my voice trembling only slightly. Zyar wants me to buy time, and that’s exactly what I’ll do – at least as long as the Synnx’s patience holds. “You want to know if I’m this Losniw. But what exactly is that?”

  For a moment, they seem confused. Their gazes shift hesitantly between me. Apparently, they didn’t expect that I had no knowledge of Elindros or the Elindine.

  “You are a valuable asset,” Seraphina finally explains, though her words offer no real clarity. “A vessel that we must deliver to the client.”

  I swallow hard. “A vessel for what?”

  “For the Sonatius Mortaeda,” Seraphina breathes, her cold, triumphant smile sending chills down my spine.

  Sonatius Mortaeda? The name alone feels like a weight pressing down on my chest.

  Before I can react, the sisters launch another attack. In perfect synchrony, they dart toward us from three different directions. Their movements are like a sinister dance—deadly and precise. As they fly, they tap the symbols on their chests, releasing dark energy that oozes out like viscous smoke. In the blink of an eye, weapons manifest in their hands.

  Alora wields a sleek scythe, its blade shimmering with a toxic green glow, resembling the teeth of a predator. Celestara carries an elegant spear, its tip appearing to be made of pure moonlight, with its shaft etched with dark runes. Seraphina grips a pair of curved daggers, their blades flickering with a restless, blood-red light, as if pulsing with their own heartbeat.

  With these deadly instruments and their fearsome forms, they descend upon us. My mind races, desperately searching for a way to help my companions—or wondering if I’ll only become a hindrance to them in the end.

  “Ready, my son?” Zyar suddenly asks, making my heart leap in surprise. What are the two of them planning? Why had they been standing still for so long, almost as if frozen? But now, they seem brimming with energy. “We don’t have much time,” Zyar urges.

  Sylas nods, his eyes glowing with focus. I have no idea what they intend to do, but before the Synnx can reach us, the two begin something I can’t comprehend.

  Zyar raises his hands to his mouth as if blowing into his palms, but it’s more than just breath. It seems like he’s shaping the air itself with his will. A chilling wind stirs the surroundings, as if he’s drawing something out of the very atmosphere. Simultaneously, Sylas touches his tongue. For a moment, I’m completely bewildered, until I see him seemingly pull a shimmering strand of saliva from his mouth—only it expands, transforming into a broad, gleaming stream of water that stretches before my eyes as if conjured by magic.

  I gape at them in disbelief. What are they doing? How is this even possible? The scene feels utterly surreal, like a dream that defies my senses.

  Before my eyes, their actions intertwine. Zyar’s wind and Sylas’s water merge, though I have no idea how. A dense, silvery mist begins to spread, so thick and impenetrable that it almost completely obscures my vision. The serene surroundings of the Nexari are swallowed by this strange veil.

  My thoughts whirl. What is this? I don’t know these powers; I’ve never seen anything like them. Of course—how could I? I’ve never left the castle walls that served as both my home and my prison. Everything beyond them was always a vague abstraction to me. But now? Now I’m witnessing things that shatter every understanding I’ve ever held.

  The Synnx, who had been rushing toward us with their weapons, seem to vanish into the mist. Their outlines blur, their movements slow, almost as if restrained.

  “Hurry, Vespera! We can’t hold this for long,” Sylas suddenly shouts, his voice strained.

  Hold what? What are they talking about? Questions flood my mind, but the situation leaves no time for answers.

  Just moments ago, I was standing in a floating paradise where colors flowed over me like dreams, and the air embraced me gently. The ground beneath my feet had been alive—waves of iridescent hues spreading with each step, and the strange spiral-shaped structures around me had been almost too beautiful to be real. It felt like I was in a world that breathed, that lived, where every light had its own consciousness. The air had been warm, heavy with a feeling almost like bliss. But that was before. Now, my surroundings are shrouded in mist, and strangely, this fact comforts me. After all, the Nyrelis sisters would likely have devoured me for breakfast.

  “Vespera, you must act now!” Zyar calls out urgently. “Use the Astralis to take us to Solnya!”

  “But how am I supposed to do that?” I ask, holding the Astralis in my hand. How can this help me? The orb gives no sound, no guidance.

  “Let the Astralis hover in the air and tap it once!” Zyar commands, and I realize there’s no time for questions.