Buried Lies
Late one night, Isla found herself drawn to the temple’s inner sanctum, a place Kaelen had warned her not to enter. The air was thick with the hum of ancient magic, and the runes on the walls glowed faintly, illuminating her path in a pale, ethereal light. At the chamber’s center stood a pedestal carved from black stone, and atop it rested an ornate crystal pulsating with an inner glow.
Isla’s breath caught as she stepped closer, her instincts telling her the object was important—vital, even. She reached out, but her hand froze mid-air as Kaelen’s voice rang out behind her.
“You weren’t meant to see this,” he said, his tone calm but tinged with unease.
Isla turned to face him, her silver eyes narrowed. “What is it?”
Kaelen stepped forward, his expression shadowed. “A fragment of the Moon Stone,” he admitted reluctantly. “It’s tied to your power, to your legacy. It’s the reason you were brought here.”
She glanced back at the crystal, her hand still hovering near it. The energy radiating from it called to her, like a distant melody she couldn’t quite hear. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded.
Kaelen sighed, his gaze heavy with regret. “Because you’re not ready for it. The power it holds—it’s dangerous. It can consume you if you’re not prepared.”
Isla’s frustration boiled over, her voice rising. “Then teach me! If this is part of who I am, I have a right to understand it!”
Kaelen’s grip on her wrist was firm as he pulled her hand away from the crystal. “You don’t know what you’re asking,” he said, his tone edged with urgency. “To claim this power is to pay a price. You have to understand the cost.”
“Then let me decide if it’s worth it,” Isla countered, her silver eyes blazing with defiance.
Kaelen released her wrist, his expression softening, but his hesitation lingered. “In time,” he said, his voice quiet. “But not tonight.”
________________
As days passed, Isla found herself caught between the delicate threads of rebuilding a relationship with her father and the looming distrust she felt toward Eira. The woman’s presence was inescapable, her soft-spoken words leaving Isla with an uneasy sense of being guided rather than supported.
Eira’s knack for appearing at pivotal moments had not gone unnoticed. When Isla sought clarity or solace, Eira would arrive with carefully chosen words that seemed to shape Isla’s thoughts without her realizing it. Each interaction left Isla feeling off-balance, as though pieces of herself were being subtly shifted into a pattern she couldn’t yet discern.
One evening, as the fire crackled in the sanctum’s central hall, Isla sat with Kaelen near the hearth. The warm glow softened the lines of his face, but his usual confidence seemed absent.
“Why do you trust her?” Isla asked suddenly, breaking the silence. Her silver eyes were sharp, and her voice carried an edge of defiance. “She doesn’t strike me as someone who gives without expecting something in return.”
Kaelen sighed, his gaze fixed on the dancing flames. “Eira has been my ally through everything,” he said quietly, his tone weighted. “When I lost your mother, when the world turned against me—she stood by my side. Without her, I wouldn’t have survived long enough to see you again.”
“That doesn’t explain her motives,” Isla pressed, leaning forward. “What does she want in return for her loyalty? And don’t tell me it’s selfless devotion to some higher cause. No one works like that.”
Kaelen turned to face her, his blue eyes shadowed with a mix of frustration and sorrow. “She’s complicated,” he admitted, his words careful. “But her dedication to this cause—to you—is genuine. She’s risked more than you know to protect your legacy.”
Isla’s jaw tightened, her silver hair catching the firelight as she held her father’s gaze. “You’re avoiding the question. What is her cause? What does she want from me?”
