Chapter 18: The Emotions

Penza- Guardians Chamber

As soon as the door shut behind the group, Draven felt two bodies collide with him and fall to the floor. The twins fell beside him: Thyjia fiercely kissed his lips, while Thyria kissed his neck and shoulders. Both groaned and skilfully removed his armour and dress.

After a few minutes, Thyjia finally breathed out, voice trembling.

“Centuries ... centuries of being nothing but stone. Watching time go by, sleeping without dreams, waking without touch.” Her throat tightened. “You two are so close, yet I can’t even reach you. I hate it ... I hated all of it.”

Her eyes brimmed.

Draven quickly drew her into his embrace, with one arm around her waist and the other moving up to gently rub her back in calming circles. Thyria moved closer, resting her hand over his to help comfort her sister.

“I hated it too,” Thyria whispered, tears sliding down her cheeks. “Every awakening seemed like hope, and every return to stone felt like death.”

She pressed her face against Draven’s neck, trembling. Thyjia slid down along Draven’s right side, draping a leg and arm over him possessively. Thyria mirrored her on the other side, the three folding together as they’d done a thousand times before, stone stole it from them.

For a long moment, the chamber was quiet except for their uneven breaths.

“Maybe this time,” Draven whispered, running his fingers through their hair, “we’ll finally get real answers. Maybe something lasting.”

Both twins lifted their heads, eyes shining with fragile hope.

“You think so?” they asked together.

Draven nodded slowly. “I’ve sensed it since the river; the moment they touched the stone. All of them. And Zyrian, the boy...” His gaze sharpened. “Something responded through him. Something was awakened here ... and elsewhere.”

The twins exchanged a wide-eyed look.

“We sensed all of them, too,” Thyria whispered. “As if they share a single thread, a common spark.”

“Even the two who weren’t affected by the light,” Thyjia added softly, “somehow ... they are now part of it.”

Draven exhaled, his jaw tightening. “What occurred with the girl’s mind?”

Thyria’s lips curled into a grim, satisfied smirk. “We warned them. If they trespass again, the consequences will be much worse.”

Thyjia snorted. “Two of her people, who call themselves Elders, are barely nine centuries old, and yet they tremble like hatchlings.”

Draven chuckled. “Is there any awakened sibling?”

Both twins shook their heads.

“No,” Thyjia said. “But we sensed one waiting. Dormant. That must be her guardian.”

Thyria sighed. “She’s not strong enough yet, probably because of her parents.”

“Foolish beings,” Thyjia snapped quietly. “Always trying to bend fate just for a moment of comfort. We endure the consequences.”

“At least,” Thyria said more softly, “we were given these children.”

Thyjia nodded. “Speaking of which, what was that presence at the river? Why did you allow them to tell her about us?”

Draven rubbed his temple. “Initially, I wasn’t sure. But once they fell into the falls, it was clear she was connected to him. His influence affected her. She’s now part of this.”

Thyria exhaled sharply. “We’re always stumbling in the dark.”

“Not anymore,” Draven murmured. “This time, we will get answers. We now have a purpose with the children.”

“Yes,” Thyjia purred. “Especially the boys...”

Draven grunted loudly.

“What?” she teased. “They at least know how to appreciate beauty. It’s not like they’re short of beautiful women around them, but still...”

“You bitch,” Thyria snapped at her.

“Of course I am,” Thyjia shot back immediately. “And so are you.”

She suddenly pushed Draven onto his back with a growl, straddling him. Thyria laughed, eyes sparkling.

“Round two,” Thyjia smirked.

After the stone door sealed behind them, the squad left the entrance and began walking, stunned and silent, each lost in their own thoughts.

“Man ... they’re so beautiful, aren’t they?” Cael finally said. “And their hair...”

A stiff elbow jabbed him in the ribs. He glanced at Uruses, who indicated to his left.

Three pairs of murderous eyes were fixed on him. He froze.

“Uh ... I mean, not more beautiful than you girls. Obviously. I just meant, they’re ... different.” He stammered and looked at the other boys.

The boys all looked straight ahead, refusing to help him.

“You’re all much more beautiful, I swear. It’s just the way they ... carry themselves...”

He realised what he had implied and flinched.

The girls resumed walking, but Ryra shot Cael one last, razor-edged glare. It landed like ice on his spine; he shivered.

They followed the river to the falls, then jumped, splashing into the pool below. Cold water swallowed them for a moment before they swam back to the bank. Zyrian dropped onto the grass with a long exhale, the others collapsing around him.

“So ... what now?” Ryra finally asked.

“Well, now we have more questions than before. That much is certain,” Nira said, pushing wet hair off her face.

“I can’t believe our parents didn’t tell us anything,” Lyna muttered.

“We know nothing about what happened fifteen years ago. It’s not even in our academic history lesson,” Uruses added, the frustration leaking through his voice.

“I think it might be stored in one of the archives in our kingdom,” Nira said, thoughtfully.

“Really? You think so?” Cael asked.

“We know so,” Ryra cut in. “You know our people record everything, not just our kingdom, but all of Zena, for centuries. Something this big? There has to be a record in the Nexus.”

“So just find it and bring it,” Leon said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Ryra let out a soft, amused laugh. Nira turned, frowning at Leon. “You think it’s that simple? Only a handful of people can access those records. Without my father and Ryra’s, no one gets near them. It’s heavily encrypted.”

“Then ask your fathers,” Leon pushed.

Nira’s frustration snapped through. “Leon, do you really think we’d be discussing this if our fathers were ready to tell us just because we asked? If that were the case, we’d already know.”

He opened his mouth, hesitated, then said, “He did say Lyna’s people know something ... maybe she can try?”

All eyes shifted to Lyna.

“Same here,” Lyna said, shaking her head. “I’m as blank as the rest of you. In the West, they at least store records somewhere, but I don’t even know where they have ours. Some of them are in old written books, and half of us can’t even read those scripts. And we won’t get anything from my people without my mother.” Her voice carried finality.

The group collectively sighed and stared up at the sky, as if it owed them answers.

Zyrian finally said, straightening up, “The Guardians clearly won’t share what they don’t want us to know. That likely covers our own births and past events. We’ll ask our parents when we can. If they’re not ready...” He dusted off his hands. “Then we’ll have to find another way.”

He stood up completely. “Come on. It’s late. Let’s go rest. We have training in humiliation in the morning.”

Everyone groaned at the reminder, slowly getting up as they prepared for the walk back to the academy. The cool, quiet night air clung to their skin, a peaceful moment before facing a truth none of them were ready for.

They slipped into the ward, Zyrian opening it just enough for them to slide through. He led the way toward their wing, their footsteps soft against the stone, moving like shadows past the guards.