𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘. 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.
It's the beginning of a new age when Jaylah Imperatrix seemingly returns from the dead to reclaim her throne. And in perfect timing.
In her absence, evil has be...
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Act 1 Chapter 10 JAYLAH
When we passed through a small Celantic village on the third day, I recognized it from the cartographer's map back in Aurora. This meant we were nearly there; with perhaps two or three hours left before reaching Melodis. Upon our arrival, we would need to find a sailor willing to make the cross over to Ition. But I supposed that would be a bridge I would cross when I got to it.
With luck, we would be in Ition before tonight was over.
As I stared out at the now-visible sea to my right, I contemplated how strange it was that before a week ago, I had dwelled in Oceana for my entire life, hardly ever leaving the territory. Despite my mission, I despised being absent now—especially just after I had returned. Though I had never meant for this entire thing to go as sideways as it did, I was aware of how badly it would reflect on me to my unknowing people. I could never tell them of Daggen until the threat was eliminated. But because of the five nobles that reigned in my previous absence, I could at least rest assured the country was in good hands.
Letting out an imperceptible breath, I took in the golden fields that seemed to spread infinitely leftward, the vibrant windflowers sprouting everywhere, the fine white sand before the lapping tides. To say this place was beautiful was a sore understatement.
And yet I still yearned for my home.
At least, some part of me did. The other more traitorous one was glad to be away again, far from the prying, judging eyes and whispers behind hands. And the shaking of my maids as they feared my wrath when I did something so little as step into the room.
That sort of mindset was not one I was raised to have. So I was sure to shove that particular part far, far down lest it make another appearance.
Khan had remained blessedly quiet since we began traveling again at dawn. For better or for worse, it allowed me time with only my thoughts.
I tilted back my head and let it rest on the wood paneling behind, the sun directly overhead washing my face with warmth.
A memory came to me then. A children's story. I had not thought about any of the stories told to me in the months since my mother's death. Now, for boredom's sake, I let myself remember the way she narrated it.
In a land much like our own, there lived a poor girl named Iphemedea," she said in that soft, melodic tone. Now, Iphemedea was as good as she was poor, and continued to give her only food away to the local starving children even when the other villagers mocked her every step of the way. Her heart of gold had even caught the eye of Ulima, Queen of Gods. In a land of bloodthirsty Kings and villainous people, Iphemedea was rarer than snowfall on the beaches of Naxaros. Because of this, Ulima wished to test her to discern if she was worthy of her blessing.
