The Exiled King

Chapter 11 - Alone in the Darkness

"A long, long time ago, the gods created Dargon and Heresh and the other worlds. Haert, the father of chaos and creation, was first born in a world with nothing. Then he created Naila, his first daughter and she bore three children—Pelos, Gialan and Aeliyas," Lirya said.

She was seated comfortably on a gold-threaded couch in the palace and Naghren sat beside her, engrossed in her tale. She'd told him of her escape from Throeyns castle and her journey until now, and had just begun on a new tale—of the creation of Dargon.

"Here, we worship the Lord of Death, Ziocrat and our Lady of Two Faces, Aeliyas. Please continue—I didn't mean to interrupt," Naghren said with a small wave of his hand and a loose smile.

Lirya continued, "Aeliyas was born first, and within her lay the powers of balance—light and darkness. Pelos was born next—with the powers of the soul. His was the ability to give and take life and within his mind was great calm and justice. Gialan was the youngest born son of Naila, and he was born with no godly power. Father Haert gifted his grandson the powers of time and Gialan, quiet by nature, swore to use his powers only for good. Alas, though, the concept of 'good' and 'evil' was so vague. The three siblings longed to create life, so they went to their father with their pleas. At first he refused, but then he finally agreed and from the void he shaped a sphere. Aeliyas created the landscape, Pelos breathed life into the people of Dargon and Gilan gave their creations knowledge.

"Thus, Dargon came to be born. Unsatisfied by the existence of one world, the siblings went behind Father Haert's back and created four other worlds, Gialan mimicking their grandfather's spherical world to the best of his ability. Though, neither he nor his siblings were well enough versed at using their powers to properly replicate Haert's creation and the worlds they made appeared flat, with little shape. Following their creations of Dargon's four parallel worlds, connected by magic, all was peaceful for a while. Gialan sired a son, Ziocrat—god of Death—and Aeliyas birthed a daughter, Iside—the winter goddess. However, father Haert discovered the worlds that the siblings had created and the chaos within him compelled him to destroy them. How we are still alive today, no lore or legend has ever come to a true conclusion," Lirya finished narrating with a sigh and a light cough.

She massaged her parched throat and asked softly for some water.

Naghren got up and stretched out his hands, his wings materialising, and muttered a few unintelligible words of magic.

A beautiful glass appeared in his outstretched hand, filled to the brim with clear water. He handed it to her and immediately hid his wings.

"Thank you for your story," He said, "Now tell me... are you afraid? Afraid of me? Of my kingdom? Of... death?"

She shook her head firmly and elaborated, "I'm not scared of you or death-I mean, I'm already dead-or this place. I meant it when I said this place was beautiful..."

She thought, I wonder why I feel this way...

"Your kingdom calls to me," Lirya uttered softly, "It's barren and lonely, but I still find it beautiful."

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Naghren's gaze snapped up to meet hers, his face slack with surprise.

How can she say that? He wondered, When even I loathe the bleak, lightless, hopeless, eternally green landscape that stretches as far I can see? I, who was born here, lived here and will die here...

Is she etherborn? That is the only thing I can think of—because everything from her strange arrival to this declaration points to that. Still, it must be tested...