Fractured Trust
758 Words
The morning sun filtered through the crystalline canopy above the training fields, casting a shifting prism of light that danced across Nyra’s face as she stood by the edge of the sparring ring. Her fingers flexed restlessly, not in preparation for combat, but from the ache of thoughts she could no longer keep to herself.
Aeryn, her younger sister born of Lima’s blood, darted past the line of practice targets with a sharp gust of wind trailing in her wake. Her laughter, unburdened and clear, reminded Nyra of days before dreams started seeping into her reality, before Verion’s voice became a regular visitor to her sleep.
“Hey,” Nyra called, stopping Aeryn mid-motion. The younger girl turned, brushing her hair from her face with a grin.
“You finally want to spar again?” Aeryn asked, hopeful.
Nyra shook her head slowly. “Not today. I need to talk.”
Aeryn’s smile faded, replaced with curiosity and concern. She stepped closer, instinctively reaching out to her sister’s shoulder. “What is it?”
Nyra hesitated. Then, with a deep breath, she began. “I’ve been... hearing things. In my dreams. A man, Verion. He tells me stories, memories—about the Etherworld, about Seraphina. About our family.”
Aeryn blinked, her face shifting quickly between surprise and confusion. “Verion? The same Verion that Mom Seraphina says is dangerous?”
Nyra nodded. “Yes, but... he doesn’t feel dangerous. He feels like someone who knows me. He talks like he cares. And the things he’s shown me—about our past, about Grandfather Aldric and the way Seraphina rose to power—they feel real.”
Aeryn stepped back, crossing her arms, brows furrowed. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Because I didn’t know if it was real or a trick,” Nyra replied, her voice heavy with doubt. “But the more I listen, the more I think there’s something to it. Something they haven’t told us.”
“Nyra...” Aeryn’s voice softened. “You trust them, don’t you? Mom. Dad. All of them. They’ve never lied to us.”
“I trust them,” Nyra said quietly. “But I also know that they’ve been through things we’ll never fully understand. What if they’re protecting us by hiding something? What if Verion’s not the enemy?”
Before Aeryn could respond, a deeper voice cut in from behind them. “You’re making a mistake.”
Zaire, their brother, stepped into the sunlight, his arms folded and his expression unreadable. The oldest of the three, born of Ava’s blood and forged in discipline, Zaire always seemed more adult than his years. His control had always been unshakable—until now.
Nyra turned toward him. “You were listening?”
“I heard enough,” he said, his tone cold. “Dreams aren’t truth, Nyra. You of all people should know that.”
“But what if they’re more than dreams?” she argued. “What if there’s truth buried in them? He told me about things—events I didn’t know, and when I asked Mom, she avoided them.”
Zaire stepped closer, his posture rigid. “So you trust a voice in your sleep more than your family?”
“I don’t know what to trust,” Nyra snapped, then stopped herself. She swallowed hard. “I just know I need to find the truth. Don’t you want to know more about who we are?”
Zaire’s jaw clenched. “I already know who I am. I was raised by warriors and kings. I don’t need to question that just because some dead man whispers in your head.”
“Zaire!” Aeryn said sharply, but he had already turned to walk away.
“I won’t be part of this,” he said over his shoulder. “If you follow him, you follow him alone.”
Silence lingered after he disappeared into the trees. Aeryn looked to Nyra, her eyes wide and worried.
“I didn’t think he’d react like that,” Nyra whispered.
Aeryn took her hand. “He’s scared. We all are. But I’ll listen. I’ll help you figure this out.”
Nyra squeezed her sister’s hand in gratitude. Despite Zaire’s rejection, she wasn’t alone. But the fracture had begun—and somewhere deep inside, Nyra knew that her search for answers could either save her family or tear it apart.
And in the hidden corners of her mind, Verion’s voice echoed with quiet satisfaction.
“Now it begins.”
- Writer
