The dark water rushed to the shore, engulfing and pulling back anything in its path, devouring and all-consuming. The original child of water, Voltara, had made the eternal sacrifice for the sake of power that would be gifted to others. Barefoot, dressed in nothing but a nightgown, she had walked towards the furious waves.

A sacrifice to the old Gods.

Her body, made from water, returned to the very element she was born from. The Gods smiled down on her, granting the children of water more power, more abilities. And while Voltara was not an Elder, she was celebrated and honoured by all of Astral for her selflessness.

Always for the sake of power. Was there any line that wouldn’t be crossed? Sapphire wasn’t sure.

Soon enough, the view outside her small window gave way to tall trees and mossy ground.

Ciliria. In full view.

‘It’s beautiful,’ Araxia stated, following her gaze.

‘It is.’ The air grew humid as they started on the path, the sun streaming through the branches of the trees above. ‘It’s a very different world from what I have known.’

‘You must miss pieces of that world you once knew. If there is anything I can ever do –’

‘Thank you but it is hard to miss a world that was so cruel.’

Araxia nodded. ‘I hope you know that I am always here, if you ever need to talk.’

‘I-I would hate to burden you. You’re busy enough –’

‘You aren’t and never will be a burden to me, Sapphire,’ Araxia interjected. ‘We lost so much time, I’m not sure there will ever be enough left to make up for it. Whenever you need me all you must do is ask.’

Sapphire offered a rare, unguarded smile and returned her gaze to the window.

A thick fog had engulfed their carriage and she wondered what hidden monsters of Eriobis were lurking in the depths.

When they emerged from the forest, a wall of cold, indifferent stone came into view. Set into it was a large, grand door with sharp angles. Ivy slithered up the walls, masking it in a familiar vibrant green, only somehow this ivy looked mangled and like it might consume her whole. A flag showing what must be the Princeps crest – a mix of trees and large bear-like creatures – flew high above the estate.

The carriage came to a halt before the stairs, and Sapphire reached for the door, but Araxia took her hand.

To correct her. For reassurance. To relieve the tension. Sapphire couldn’t tell.

‘It’s the cost of the Canmore name, Sapphire. The true burden of the blood. Even opposition deserves our grace.’

A smirk broke across Sapphire’s face. ‘So, you admit it, then. You don’t like the Princeps?’