It was as if the moment Yorin heard Nira’s father say those horrible words, he gave up on everything. Nira watched in disbelief as he let the guards cuff his hands together before they started dragging him away towards the entrance to the palace.

She wanted to protest, but then her father wrapped his arms around her, which made Nira momentarily forget about Yorin. She was once again reminded of how thin her father was as she hugged him back. It made her feel sick.

“Why did you come back?” he pretty much sobbed out, and Nira gritted her teeth. Never before had she wanted to kill anyone more than Irif right now. She didn’t even care that Irif was her mother, she just wanted to see her die.

Then Nira blinked, her eyes widening. She swallowed heavily, trying to fight the urge to vomit. She couldn’t kill her mother, and it wasn’t just because Irif was too powerful. Where had those thoughts come from?

“I had to,” Nira replied, trying to ignore the way her eyes started to sting. She separated herself from her father, feeling her heart break a little more when she saw how sad he looked. “There’s something bigger than me going on. I have to tell her.”

Did she have to tell her, though? Would it be so bad to let Kaleth kill Irif for what she’d done to Nira’s father?

Nira swallowed again, sighing. Irif dying was one thing, but a war between Enoria and Irithara would result in countless innocent lives being lost. If Irif could stop that, Nira had to go along with whatever the queen could come up with.

“How can there be anything—” Her father suddenly fell silent and flinched, closing his eye for a few seconds. “She…wants to see you.”

“Good,” Nira replied quietly, already walking towards the entrance before her father could try to stop her. She couldn’t look at him anymore. It hurt too much. The fact that she was directly responsible for this…. She just couldn’t deal with this right now. She knew it was cowardly, avoiding confronting the consequences of her actions, but she just couldn’t right now.

She barely looked at anything as she walked inside the palace, but she couldn’t help but notice that the massive hall leading to the throne room hadn’t changed a bit. Every single piece of furniture was still covered in gold and silver, the floor was still made of flawless marble, and the long blue rug covering the middle of it looked just as unblemished as it had four years ago. The whole palace was strangely silent except for Nira’s footsteps, but she didn’t pay any attention to any of this. The only thing on her mind was confronting Irif.

Nira sped up, walking as fast as she could towards the door leading to the throne room before she had a chance to question what she was about to do. Seeing her approach, the guards at the door let her in without a word.

Despite her anger, Nira froze as soon as she saw her, though. Irif was sitting on her golden throne, legs lazily crossed, wearing a black flowing dress, a drink in her hand, but all Nira could see was her mother. It seemed her mind just refused to process that this was an Eternal that had lived for thousands of years and had most likely ruined countless lives.

Irif smiled at Nira pleasantly. She put the drink down on the table next to her throne, got up, and started walking towards Nira. Nira immediately took a step back. That wasn’t how her mother acted. She didn’t smile.

“I knew you’d come back one day, but I certainly didn’t think it would be such a happy occurrence,” Irif said, making Nira frown. That sounded incredibly sinister. Irif was now standing in front of her, the high heels she was wearing making her just tall enough so she could look down at her daughter.

Nira swallowed in discomfort. She didn’t like the slightly manic grin her mother was now sporting. How come she was showing emotion so freely now? Had she been pretending the whole time Nira had known her? “Y’see, I told myself that if you ever came back here, I’d have you executed.”

Nira raised her chin in defiance, even though on the inside, she was freaking out. But at least the more she talked like this, the more Nira could make herself stop seeing Irif as her mother.

“If you kill me, you won’t have a new host.”

“Yeah, well, there’s no shortage of those,” Irif replied, raising an eyebrow at Nira’s reaction. She had most likely been expecting her to stay silent. Or better yet, be grateful that Irif was allowing her to live. Nira glared. “But I won’t need a new host. Thanks to that moron Tharos, there is no point in pretending Irithara has a royal family.”

Nira flinched when her mother put her hands on Nira’s shoulders. “But I said I was going to execute you. I don’t want to do that anymore. You brought the one person who can help us win right to my doorstep. I’m so happy I’ll have to reward you somehow!”

She indeed seemed happy, but it was the scary kind of happy. Irif’s grin was too wide, showing too many teeth.

Swallowing down her fear, Nira glared at her mother. “What are you going to do with Yorin?”

“Take him out to dinner, maybe see a movie,” Irif replied, taking her hands off Nira’s shoulders, Nira could breathe a little more easily now, though the overly sarcastic tone Irif had used didn’t really let her relax much. “What do you think I’m going to do with him? He has some intel I need, so I gave him to my best interrogators. I’m sure they’ll get the answers out of him.”

Nira’s mouth opened in a silent gasp. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she’d known what Yorin’s fate was going to be, but she hadn’t wanted to admit it to herself. Because once again this was all her fault.

Could she do anything without screwing up someone’s life? First her father, then Nef, then Yorin…. Why was she like this? Why did she keep doing this? She’d promised Yorin he would be fine, that he wouldn’t be killed for coming back to Aleara.

Sure, he was still alive, but there was no doubt in Nira’s mind that Irif would kill him once she got whatever information she needed from him. And while Nira herself didn’t really know what kind of interrogation techniques would be used, she knew the queen’s people had a reputation for being brutal with their torture.

So really this was much worse than just being executed.

“Y-you can’t—” Nira protested weakly, but Irif interrupted her immediately.

“Of course I can, child. And I will. I have to. There are barely any Eternals left in this land, yet Tharos has thousands.” Irif started to pace while tapping her chin for a few seconds before she stopped. “I wonder—is there an actual reason you returned or did you just miss your mother?”

Nira bristled at how mocking Irif sounded and glared at her once more. “Relioth managed to create the Aperios.”

Irif’s smile disappeared as she blinked in surprise and possibly even fear. Nira smirked slightly. Ruining Irif’s mood wasn’t enough to make her forget about Yorin, but it did make her feel at least a little better.

“That…that’s not possible.” Irif laughed nervously. Nira wondered if Irif had looked into her head to confirm that she wasn’t lying.

“It is. I met him.”

“Who is it, then?” The sentence had probably been meant to sound sarcastic, but Irif didn’t seem to manage it.

“Kaleth Garen.”

Irif pressed her lips together, her eyebrows forming a scowl. “Of course it is. I should have had him killed when he was here, pretending to be on some diplomatic mission.” She gritted her teeth, but then almost immediately her expression softened. “No matter, once Yorin breaks, I’ll have all the soldiers I’ll need to kill Garen as well.”

Nira felt sick and incredibly conflicted. She hated the fact that Irif’s entire strategy in the coming war hinged on hurting Yorin until he told her what she wanted to know, but the alternative was even worse. If Irithara didn’t have the manpower to fight Enoria…well, Yorin had said that Relioth only wanted to kill the Iritharian Eternals, but what did he know? He hadn’t had contact with any Eternal in centuries. Nira couldn’t take that chance if there was a possibility that everyone in Irithara would die.

Nira didn’t understand what Irif wanted from Yorin, though. If this was about turning people into Eternals, didn’t Irif already know all about that? Or maybe just being one of them didn’t imply knowing this stuff.

“Now, what would you like in return for bringing Yorin here?” Irif asked, sitting down on her throne once more.

How could Nira ask for a reward for unknowingly leading Yorin into a trap? That was so messed up. “You could let him go.”

“Hm, I can’t do that. I need that info,” Irif said, tapping her chin. “How about this—I’ll let him live once he talks.”

Well, that was better than nothing, but it didn’t make Nira feel much better. However, she knew that she wouldn’t get a better deal, so she nodded. She would take what she could get.

“Wonderful. Now run along, your father wants to talk with you.” She waved her hand carelessly as she said this, but she didn’t look all that relaxed. Maybe she wasn’t as confident that Kaleth wasn’t going to be a problem as she’d claimed.

Seeing that Irif didn’t want to talk anymore, Nira turned around, albeit a little hesitantly. She didn’t want to leave yet—she felt like if she kept arguing, maybe she could help Yorin somehow—but at the same time, she knew that overstaying her welcome would probably result in something even worse happening.

“Oh, and do tell Hidarion that our arrangement is put on hold as long as you stay here.”

Nira stopped dead in her tracks at the mention of her father, turning around to look at Irif immediately. “What arrangement?”

Irif smirked darkly. “Ask him yourself.”

Nira took that as a clear signal that she really should leave right now, so she did, sighing. Her father was waiting for her just outside the door, looking very worried.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asked, putting his hands on Nira’s shoulders much like Irif had done just a moment ago. However, when her father did it, it was comforting, so Nira leaned into the touch. “She didn’t…hurt you, did she?”

“I’m okay,” Nira replied, feeling a little uncomfortable with this sort of conversation in the sight of the guards. “Can we…?” Nira jerked her head to the side, gesturing to one of the doors on her left. If memory served, it led to a corridor containing various empty rooms that would be ideal for this kind of thing.

“Uh, yes, of course,” her father replied. He didn’t sound all that certain in spite of what he’d just said, but he followed Nira into the corridor, anyway.

The place was just as spotless and empty as it always has been. Nira had always wondered why the queen bothered keeping it spotless, but that was true for half of the palace, so she’d stopped questioning it by now.

Since the corridor was completely devoid of all life except for Nira and her father, they just stopped there. It was private enough to talk already.

“What did you need to tell her?” her father asked, his eyebrows rising up a little. Despite his obvious curiosity, he still looked sad.

Nira sighed. She was starting to feel like this entire trip had done more harm than good. Irif clearly wasn’t to be trusted, and if Yorin was right, all Nira had done was make the war more unpredictable. But there was also a huge chance that he wasn’t right, and Nira wouldn’t just watch everyone in Irithara be slaughtered.

“Remember the Enorian that helped me leave Irithara?” Nira asked and frowned at her father’s reaction. He looked almost embarrassed for some reason. He looked away from her, brushing his hand through his short, dark blue hair. Only then Nira noticed that some of it had already started to turn grey. Her father wasn’t really old enough for that, but given what he must have endured over the last four years, it wasn’t that surprising.

“Um, yes, I do remember him.”

Nira wondered what he wasn’t telling her, but she decided not to ask just yet.

“He’s the Aperios.”

Her father’s remaining eye widened. But that was it as far as his reaction went. He didn’t seem all that surprised the Aperios existed, unlike Irif. “Oh. Yeah, that, um, that is important enough to tell your mother in person.”

He still sounded sorrowful, even though he seemed to agree with Nira’s decision.

“I’m sorry. I can’t even imagine what you went through to—”

“No, no, Nira, don’t think like that,” her father interrupted her gently. “You made the right decision. There was no other way of contacting her that would actually reach this palace.” He smiled at her, but there were tears in his eye. “I’m proud of you for being so brave. I don’t think I’d go back if I were you.”

Nira had a feeling he’d said that just to make her feel better, but it still helped. She wrapped her arms around her father, resting her chin on his shoulder. She was much more relaxed now than she had been during the first hug, but that didn’t help her ignore how thin her father was.

“I missed you so much, sweetheart,” he said, not letting go even though they’d already been hugging for longer than most people would deem normal. Nira didn’t care in the slightest, though, and she didn’t want to let go either.

“I missed you too, Dad,” she said back, her voice quivering just slightly. She had about a hundred questions for him, about what had happened, what Irif had done to him, if he even knew that he was married to Irif and not Sidaira…. But Nira wouldn’t ask just yet. She didn’t have the heart to ruin the moment, and honestly, she wasn’t even sure she cared right now.

Just being here with her father made her feel so much better. At that moment, it was like even if nothing else came from it, going back to Irithara had been worth it, if only just to be reunited with her father.

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