CHAPTER 17: Nirabeth
1027 Words
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A restless silence stirred across the dark kingdom as Latisha and her guards glided through the night on their winged beasts, heading for the rumored hideout of Queen Andrielle. The trees bent slightly in the cold wind as if whispering secrets too dangerous to say aloud. Latisha’s sharp eyes glowed faintly in the moonlight—she didn’t speak, but her clenched jaw and narrowed gaze said everything. This mission was personal.
Meanwhile, inside the cold stone chamber of the palace prison, the old Sia sat hunched, her fingers curled tightly over her walking staff. She stared into the shadows, whispering a prayer to the stars. Suddenly, a hand gently touched her back.
Her body tensed, but the moment she turned, her cloudy eyes filled with unexpected light. Dalia. Dressed in dark traveling garb, she held a finger to her lips.
“Dalia... how did you—?” the Sia whispered.
“That doesn’t matter now,” Dalia said urgently, her voice low but steady. “I have to get you out of here.”
But the Sia shook her head slowly. “Exactly. This isn’t the time to save me. You must go to Queen Andrielle before Latisha does. You know what happens if she gets there first.”
Dalia’s eyes lingered—filled with grief and hesitation. But the Sia raised a trembling hand and gently pushed her toward the shadows. “Go. Now.”
Dalia vanished into the dark with a determined nod, her silhouette fading into the night mist.
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At sunrise, the soft golden light bathed the peaceful village where Clara, Eric, and Danielle had spent the night. The villagers lined the edges of the narrow path, waving with gentle smiles. Some had tearful eyes, others hopeful hearts. Their speechless voices still found ways to say goodbye.
Clara turned one last time and smiled faintly. She could feel the weight of the world on her shoulders, yet something inside her had shifted. Something steady, something ready.
“I feel prepared,” Clara whispered, breaking the silence.
Eric walked beside her and replied, “You are prepared.”
Danielle sighed and looked up at the cloudless sky. “Let’s finish what we started.”
They followed the map, the markings now leading due east. Time was slipping fast—only two days left before the full moon. Every step felt heavier, yet filled with purpose.
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Far ahead, Dalia broke through the tree line and approached a glowing crystalline valley. She had arrived first.
“Andrielle,” she called as she entered the hidden court of the Nirobetan Queen.
Andrielle turned gracefully, her violet robes trailing behind her. Her face was calm, eyes wise beyond years. “So. She’s finally coming.”
“Yes,” Dalia said breathlessly. “Latisha knows you're here. She’s coming too.”
Andrielle simply smiled. “I’ve waited for this day.”
A tall woman in golden attire stepped forward. “The priestess saw it too. Nadia is coming.”
“Then let us prepare,” Andrielle said, and the sound of ceremonial bells rang out across the palace.
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Meanwhile, Clara, Eric, and Danielle reached a clearing… and a bush.
Clara frowned. “Seriously? This is it?”
Danielle threw her hands in the air. “Beautiful. Now we’re stuck.”
“No, we’re not,” Eric muttered, scanning the area. “They must be in hiding. But how do we—?”
A familiar voice cut through the silence. “Your question has been answered.”
Dalia emerged from the thicket, brushing off dust. “Come with me.”
She guided them into the brush. Thick vines parted as if responding to her presence.
“You can fly, right?” she asked Clara, eyes steady.
Clara hesitated. “I—I guess so.”
“Magic doesn’t need perfection. Just belief. Focus your mind on what you want to do. Attempt it. That’s how it works.”
Clara closed her eyes. The air shimmered softly around her. She rose—unsteady at first—then smoothly into the sky.
Dalia grabbed Danielle and Eric. All four soared through the canopy until—
The skies opened.
A glowing celestial dome stretched above them. Floating stones lit with runes. Glittering rivers of light carved the valley like veins of stars. Nirobet.
Clara gasped. “It’s... magnificent.”
Dalia smiled. “You’ve only seen a glimpse. The people await you.”
“Wait—did you just say ‘Nadia’?”
Dalia turned toward her gently. “That’s your true name. The name you were given before Latisha took you. Here, they will call you Nadia.”
Danielle’s eyes widened. “It’s a beautiful name.”
They landed before the grand gates of the city. The moment Clara—Nadia—stepped through, the people began to sing. The music was ancient, haunting, filled with longing and joy.
A road formed—people parting for her. From the gates to the throne. As she walked slowly, the song grew louder.
She passed men with silver robes, women with glowing lanterns, children kneeling in reverence. Her heartbeat slowed. For once, she felt… home.
At the throne, Queen Andrielle stepped forward. Her arms opened.
“My child.”
Clara stepped into the queen’s embrace, her eyes wet. Eric and Danielle bowed behind her.
“The hope for all,” said the priestess.
The drums stopped. The queen stepped forward.
“Behold,” she called out to her people, “the time has come. The prophecy has arrived. The war is near. But above all—hope has come!”
The crowd erupted in joy. Flags rose. Horns blew. Lanterns danced in the air. There was a feast—light, color, and sound filled every corner of the celestial city. It was a moment of bliss.
Later, under the warm glow of floating stars, Queen Andrielle leaned toward Clara—Nadia.
“My child, would you speak to your people? Encourage their hearts. Give them your light.”
Clara stood, her eyes scanning the faces—warriors, elders, children. All waiting. All believing.
She opened her mouth to speak…
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- Writer
