The Aielind Chronicles: Journey

Chapter Two: Dias

Dias closed Pyk’s bedroom door with a soft click, her back pressing against it as she exhaled a heavy sigh. Her gaze dropped to the floor, her hands trembling slightly as she whispered, "Nia, where are you?"

The quiet words seemed to hang in the air, unanswered, as tears began to well in her eyes. Her heart ached, and her thoughts drifted back to the last time she had seen Nia, the memory blooming vividly in her mind.

She saw Nia sitting at the window, her back to her, gazing out at the sprawling city below. The room was still, save for the faint rustle of Nia’s auburn hair as it caught the light. Dias had joined her at the window, sitting beside her sister as the view unfolded before them. Islagroth—her city—stretched out in all its glory. The two rings of water, a unique feature of their land, shimmered in brilliant azure hues, their ripples reflecting the light of the sky. Far below, the city bustled with life—merchants, citizens, and Elwyns moving like tiny figures scattered across the center island. Beyond the city, the fields shimmered in shades of emerald and gold, the second ring of water encircling them like a protective embrace.

"What are you thinking about?" Dias had asked, her voice soft, almost tentative.

Nia’s eyes never left the view. "Can I ask you something?" she had replied, her voice distant.

Dias reached over, gently brushing a strand of hair behind Nia’s ear. "You can ask me anything."

Nia turned her head slightly, her gaze intense, piercing. "What do you think of Elwyns?"

The question caught Dias off guard. She blinked, unsure of where it had come from. "Well, Nia," she had said, her tone measured, "I think they’re useful. They build, they farm, they serve—doing all sorts of things that help Elf-kind."

Nia’s eyes remained fixed on the world below, watching as the citizens and their Elwyns moved in synchrony. "Where did they come from?"

Dias chuckled softly, though the sound was light, almost nervous. "Nia, you know just as well as I do."

But Nia had turned toward her, her expression serious. "Tell me again."

Dias had sighed, shifting her position slightly. "Well, a long time ago, when the world was new, the Goddess birthed eight children. There was Night, High, Sun, Moon, Wood, Snow, Avarial, and Wild. One day, her children—"

"No," Nia had interrupted, her voice sharp, insistent. "I don’t want a history lesson. I just want to know where they came from."

Her sister’s eyes—those deep turquoise eyes flecked with amber—seemed to glimmer with something more than curiosity. Something deeper, more urgent. Dias had always been entranced by them, as if they held secrets she wasn’t meant to understand. But now, in the quiet of the room, those eyes unsettled her.

"The history is what makes it important," Dias had said gently, a soft smile on her lips. "Let me finish."

But before she could continue, the shrill sound of warning bells shattered the moment. Both sisters had turned toward the window, their eyes wide with alarm. Below, dozens of Elwyns stormed the city, their movements frantic and disorganized.

"Close the windows and stay in here," Dias had commanded, her voice firm as she sprang to her feet. She had barely spared a glance at Nia before rushing out of the room.

***

"Dias?" A voice broke through her memory, pulling her back to the present. She blinked, disoriented, and turned to find Edrahil standing a few paces away, his eyes soft with concern.

"Thinking about Nia?" he asked, his voice quiet.

The princess nodded, her throat tight. "I just... I wish I knew where she is, Edrahil."