Eira’s Warning
The evening brought a chill to the sanctum, shadows stretching long across its halls. Isla sat in the quiet of her chambers, her thoughts circling endlessly around her father’s words. A knock at the door broke her reverie, and before she could respond, Eira entered, her movements fluid and deliberate.
“You’re restless,” Eira said, her tone soft but perceptive.
Isla stood, her silver hair catching the faint light as she crossed her arms. “If you’re here to defend my father’s secrets, don’t bother. I’m tired of half-truths and vague answers.”
Eira tilted her head, a faint smile curving her lips. “He’s trying to protect you, Isla. You might not see it now, but his choices have always been about your survival.”
“By keeping me in the dark?” Isla shot back, her frustration spilling over. “That’s not protection, Eira. That’s control. And I’ve had enough of that for a lifetime.”
Eira stepped closer, her expression calm but her eyes glinting with something sharper. “You have a fire in you,” she said, her voice almost admiring. “A fire that could burn the world if you’re not careful. But fire needs balance, Isla. Without it, it consumes everything—even the people you love.”
“I’m not afraid of burning,” Isla replied, her voice steady and defiant.
Eira’s faint smile faded, replaced by a rare flicker of genuine emotion. She lowered her voice, her words cutting through the air like a blade. “You should be,” she said. “Because it’s not just you at risk. Your children… they need you whole. Not broken by the power you’re so eager to wield.”
The mention of her children sent a chill down Isla’s spine, but she refused to let it show. “I won’t let anyone take them from me again,” she said, her silver eyes narrowing. “Not you. Not my father. No one.”
Eira held Isla’s gaze for a moment longer, then nodded slowly. “Then learn to temper your fire,” she said softly. “For their sake.”
