As the years went by, Queen Zoya's hope of finding Nadia began to dwindle. Fifty five years had passed since her friend's disappearance, and despite her tireless efforts, she had found no leads, no clues, no whispers of Nadia's fate. The weight of her responsibilities in the Realm of Eternal Reckoning had grown heavier, and the burden of judging spirits had become a constant reminder of her failure to find her dear friend.
With a heavy heart, Queen Zoya realized that she had exhausted all avenues. She had asked King Zarius, and he had rebuffed her. She had scoured Heaven, and Nadia was nowhere to be found. The possibility of searching Hell had always been a distant, impractical dream, as she couldn't risk putting innocent Angels in harm's way.
Now, as she stood in her chambers, surrounded by the echoes of memories, Queen Zoya felt the sting of defeat. She had given up hope, and the pain of losing Nadia had become a chronic ache, a reminder of her failure as a friend and a Queen.
In a gesture of resignation, Queen Zoya closed her eyes and let the shadows of her chambers envelop her. She whispered a silent prayer, a final farewell to her friend, and a plea to the cosmos to grant Nadia peace, wherever she may be.
As the silence closed in around her, Queen Zoya's thoughts turned to the memories she shared with Nadia. She remembered their laughter, their tears, and their countless moments of joy. The memories, though bittersweet, brought her a measure of comfort.
With a heavy heart, Queen Zoya opened her eyes, her gaze falling upon a small, delicate locket that hung from her neck. Inside, a portrait of Nadia smiled back at her, a bittersweet reminder of the friend she had lost, and the memories they had shared. The locket, once a symbol of hope, had become a token of remembrance, a testament to the enduring power of friendship, even in the face of uncertainty and loss.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Cyra's eyes remained wide awake, her mind racing with the events of the previous day. As a Supernatural, she didn't require sleep, but she had always cherished the fleeting sense of calmness it brought. In her younger years, she would often indulge in slumber, savoring the gentle escape from reality. However, her father's harsh words had eventually driven her to abandon the habit.
"Sleep is a weakness, Cyra," he would say. "Your guard is always down, and you're vulnerable to attack. You're a heavy sleeper, too - a perfect target."
His words had struck a chord, and Cyra had reluctantly surrendered to her father's logic. She had learned to adapt, to thrive in the constant state of alertness that defined her kind.
But now, a growing unease stirred within her. A nagging intuition whispered warnings, urging her to watch her father and his inner circle more closely. It was a notion she had never entertained before, a betrayal of the trust she had always placed in him. Yet, the feeling persisted, refusing to be silenced.
As the hours ticked by, Cyra's resolve crumbled. She couldn't shake the sensation that something was amiss, that her father's words and actions hid a sinister truth. With a mindful hum, she made a decision - she would give in to her doubts and begin to observe those closest to her father, no matter how treacherous the path may lead. The weight of her choice settled heavy on her shoulders, but she steeled herself for the challenges ahead, her eyes burning with a newfound determination.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The grand Throne Room of King Zarius was a majestic sight, with its high, vaulted ceiling lost in darkness. The room's grandeur was underscored by the intricate frescoes adorning the walls, depicting the history of the Supernaturals. At the far end of the hall, the king's imposing throne stood, upon which King Zarius sat, his presence commanding attention. Beside him, Alpert, his most trusted servant, stood with an air of deference.
Their conversation was hushed, yet laced with an undercurrent of urgency. "Her Majesty's indulgences are becoming a hindrance," King Zarius stated, his voice low and measured. "Lloyd's influence has also begun to divert her focus."
Cyra, hidden from view, stifled an internal retort. She knew her father's words were directed at her. 'If anything, he's helped me in more ways than one,' she thought, her mind racing with defiance.
Alpert bowed his head, his voice cautious. "I concur, my Lord. However, I must inquire: how much longer must we await the optimal moment to initiate our plan?"
King Zarius' expression turned calculating, his eyes glinting in the dim light. "We will proceed when the celestial alignments are favorable. Until then, we must ensure that our... distractions remain in place."
Meanwhile, Cyra had teleported into the throne room, carefully concealing her aura to avoid detection. She had learned the technique from her father himself, now using it against him. With precision, she floated up to the dark ceiling, her ears straining to catch every word. The risk of discovery was high, but she refused to back down, her determination fueled by the secrets she sought to uncover.
Before Alpert could respond, a knock at the double doors interrupted the conversation. King Zarius' deep voice rang out, "Enter." The door creaked open, and Lloyd strode in, his eyes scanning the room. Cyra's internal panic spiked as she realized she couldn't teleport while in mid-air. With precision, she flapped her wings, soaring higher into the darkness of the ceiling. She dimmed the golden light emanating from her right wing and halo, blending into the shadows.
She glared at Lloyd, her gaze a silent rebuke for interrupting her plan. Lloyd sensed a third presence, his eyes darting upward, but he saw nothing. Nevertheless, his instincts remained on high alert.
"Greetings, Father... Alpert," Lloyd said, his bow respectful yet confident.
King Zarius nodded curtly, his annoyance at the interruption evident. "Speak quickly, Lloyd. What brings you here?"
Lloyd met his father's gaze without flinching. "I've come to inquire about Cyra's... confinement. When will she be permitted to leave the palace?"
Alpert's eyebrows arched in surprise, but King Zarius' expression remained unreadable. Lloyd continued, his voice filled with conviction. "She's been trapped within these walls her entire life. Even if she cannot venture into Heaven, she can conceal her true nature. Why must she be denied the freedom to explore Hell?"
King Zarius' eyes narrowed, a hint of amusement dancing in their depths. "Very well," he said, his voice low and enigmatic.
Lloyd's face contorted in confusion. "What do you mean? You're... allowing it?"
A slow smile spread across King Zarius' face. "You heard me, Lloyd. Now, go."
Lloyd's expression transformed, his eyes shining with gratitude. He bowed hastily, his words tumbling out in an incoherent rush of excitement. He turned to leave, unaware of the silent observer above.
Cyra's thoughts swirled, her emotions torn between gratitude toward Lloyd and trepidation about venturing beyond the palace walls. She had grown accustomed to her indoor sanctuary, but the thrill of exploration beckoned.
For now, however, she must focus on escaping undetected.
Her prayers were soon answered when King Zarius concluded his conversation with Alpert, and the servant departed. Cyra watched and waited patiently for her father to leave, but instead, he rose from his throne...
And locked eyes with her.
They remained frozen, Cyra's internal turmoil simmering as she felt the weight of her father's piercing gaze.
Finally, King Zarius broke the silence, his voice low and measured, "Why are you here?"
Cyra flew down, her wings beating softly, and greeted him with a nervous grin. "Hello, father! I, uh, just made a breakthrough! I teleported while in mid-air! Isn't that... awesome?" Her attempt at enthusiasm faltered under his intense stare.
King Zarius' expression remained unimpressed. "And you chose to teleport here, why?"
Cyra's attempt at a casual tone faltered. "I... I was thinking about you... yeah! I wanted to see your reaction!" She forced a grin, trying to appear convincing.
King Zarius' expression remained unimpressed. "You're a terrible liar, Cyra."
Cyra's frown deepened, reminded of Lloyd's similar critiques. Undeterred, she attempted a retort, but her father cut her off.
"Get out."
Cyra didn't hesitate, dashing out the door as soon as the command was given. Once outside, she teleported to her quarters.
Her quarters were a sanctuary, reflecting her Nephalem heritage. The large room boasted a high, vaulted ceiling, allowing her to soar through the air with ease. The walls were adorned with intricate frescoes depicting the history of her kind, and the floor was made of polished obsidian, reflecting the soft glow of luminescent orbs. A magnificent, ancient forge stood tall in the center of the room, its flames burning with a soft, ethereal light, a symbol of her connection to the powerful magic that coursed through her veins.
Cyra landed beside the forge, her wings folding against her back. She closed her eyes, focusing on her aura, and began to practice the teleportation technique she had struggled with earlier. Determined to master it, she concentrated, her energy swirling around her.
After meditating beside the forge, Cyra stood, flew up, and attempted to teleport while in mid-air. Frustrated by her repeated failures, she flew back down and teleported to the library. The vast, empty space swallowed her voice as she asked, "Wait... why did I come here again?"
Shrugging off her confusion, she teleported to Lloyd's room. She found him standing on a crimson rug, disintegrating useless items with a flick of his wrist. His acknowledgement of her presence came before she even landed. "Hello, Cyra."
Lloyd's flat tone caught her off guard; she had expected more enthusiasm. Maybe it was an act, she thought.
Curious, Cyra asked, "So... what's the project?" Her eyes followed the dust particles swirling around Lloyd as he turned an old dagger into nothingness.
Lloyd turned to face her, his expression a perfect blend of amusement and annoyance. "You think I'm just destroying things for fun?"
Cyra's grin was mischievous. "Hehe... got anything for me?"
Lloyd's gaze lingered, as if searching for something. Then, his expression changed, and he said, "Oh yeah, you're going out of the palace." The words were laced with a hint of sarcasm.
Cyra's eyes sparkled with excitement, but Lloyd quickly dampened her hopes. "No, I'm not going with you." A roll of his eyes accompanied the statement.
Undeterred, Cyra asked, "Want to quiz me instead?" Her eyes sparkled with mischief.
Lloyd's confusion was palpable. "What?"
Without warning, Cyra grabbed his hand and teleported them to the library. She led him to a bookshelf, retrieved a tome, and took a seat. Lloyd sat across from her, his glare a testament to his annoyance.
"This is how you're celebrating your freedom?" he asked, his tone a mix of exasperation and amusement.
Cyra's smile was unwavering. "Yep."
Lloyd shook his head with a small smile, taking the book from her. "Ehh, whatever."
»»—————- ♔ —————-««
Cyra: "I teleported while in mid-air! Isn't that awesome?"
King Zarius: "No, that's just showing off. And poorly, at that."
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[A/N]: Thanks for reading! ^^
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