The displacement was not a smooth transition, but a terrifying, wrenching shift of space and sensation. One moment, Ezra stood in the humid, terrified air of the forest clearing, facing the powerful, composed threat of Val, the Prime Nexus. The next, the world dissolved into a fleeting, cold vacuum of elemental Air, and then snapped back into solid reality.
Ezra stumbled, finding her feet on cold, polished stone. The Prime Nexus still held her arm, his grip cool and absolute.
The difference in atmosphere was immediate and profound. The air here was sharp, dry, and cold, carrying the faint, metallic scent of ozone and ancient stone. The light was not the harsh yellow of a summer morning, but a diffused, ethereal glow emanating from sources Ezra couldn't immediately identify—a chilling blue-white luminescence.
She was no longer in the human world. She had arrived in Veridia.
They stood within an immense, circular chamber carved entirely from black, veined marble. The walls were not modern architecture, but seemed to rise and fall with the organic irregularity of a deep-sea cavern. In the center, dominating the space, was a circular dais holding a single, high-backed throne carved from what looked like frozen lava—a silent testament to Valerian's mastery over Elemental Fire and Earth.
This was the chamber of the Prime Nexus.
Ezra finally wrenched her arm free, her Vampire instinct overriding her fear. She stepped back, putting distance between them, her mind racing to calculate her chances. Shoot the generator of the light? Find a window?
"A regrettable necessity," Val stated, his voice echoing slightly in the vast space. He moved to the center of the chamber with a slow, deliberate grace, effortlessly ascending the dais. "But effective. You caused considerable delay and risked unnecessary exposure to the King's mortals."
Ezra felt a surge of defiant heat. "You attacked a carriage containing two innocent people and a solicitor whose only crime was protecting his family from a mythological claim! You expect me to submit quietly?"
Val seated himself upon the throne, the dark, carved stone making him look even more imposing and ancient. His eyes, fixed on her, glowed faintly in the dim light. "Mythology is merely history told to children, Miss Finch. And you are here because the history requires you. As for your family, their safety is contingent upon your immediate compliance."
"You left them alive to send a message to the King," Ezra accused, feeling a strange mixture of terror and bitter clarity. "My father knows you want me for the Creatrix Regium prophecy. He sent me to the Duke to break your claim. You used them as bait to draw me out."
A flicker of genuine intrigue crossed Val's face. "You grasp the political geometry quickly, even for a Fae-Lesser Vampire." He paused, his gaze sweeping over her torn black dress and the lingering pallor of her human distress. "But you misunderstand the depth of the necessity. I do not merely want the Creatrix Regium, Ezra. I require her to bind the fractured elements. And regardless of what minor blood you believe runs in your veins, you are the one the prophecy calls to me."
He leaned forward, resting his chin on a fist, his expression suddenly predatory. "Now, tell me, Ezra. Did you bring the Elixir Vitae? Or will I have to command a servant to fetch sustenance for my new acquisition
Ezra's hands flew to her waist, where the pouch containing her Vampire sustenance was hidden. It was there, but she realized with a sickening lurch that in the terror of the capture and the elemental shift, she had completely forgotten the tattered prophecy scroll—the proof she wasn't the Creatrix Regium. The scroll, her only weapon against his absolute certainty, was gone. Valarian, the Prime Nexus, did not need to scry for it; he simply smiled, and the pouch around her waist grew instantly hot with the subtle pressure of Elemental Fire, proving he knew every secret she carried.