Solace's P.O.V
Night swallowed the sky before we finally slowed. We made camp miles away from the village, a small circle of safety in the vast, whispering dark. I jumped off the horse with a practiced grace, my boots finding the soft earth. I watched Alaric silently; he moved with the focused discipline of a soldier as he tied the horses securely. Even the Legions, who had followed us like shadows, moved with a strange, quiet efficiency.
Then, I saw it. Evander crouched by a pile of wood, and without the strike of flint or the smell of sulphur, a flame roared into life between his palms. My breath hitched.
"You have magic?" I asked, approaching him. The orange glow danced in his eyes as he looked up and, to my absolute shock, he bowed low.
"Just like you, I do have magic," he answered simply, rising back to his feet.
Confusion swirled in my chest, thick and disorienting. "How?"
Evander met my gaze with a look of profound reverence. "Your Highness, it might sound impossible, even crazy, but our Kingdom of Thera still exists. The only key is you; you are the key for our kingdom to rise again."
I wanted to laugh. I wanted to tell him he was delusional, that I was just a girl who hunted bears and lived in a cabin in the woods. "Oh, please! Evander, don't make fun of me. Me? How can I do that? I'm not even... I'm not even a royal."
"Still don't get it?" Alaric's voice broke in, sharp and impatient.
"You are a royal," Evander continued, ignoring the Prince. "The only one left. The stories you've heard about Thera? They are all true, except for the part where everyone died. You are alive because my wife, a lady-in-waiting to your mother, was ordered to escape with you. She lost you during a desperate night on the run, and we never stopped looking. I heard the stories of the 'prodigy' of Aevum—the girl who fought like a Queen and moved like a King. I saw it myself the night you escaped the palace. That's why I let you go. You must accept who you are, Solace. Your body and soul need to accept the magic in your veins."
I stood there, dumbfounded. Part of me wanted to scream that he was lying, but another part—the part that had always felt like a stranger in my own skin—ached with a terrible, sudden hope.
"Must be shocking news, Your Highness," Evander said softly. "But I believe the wooden chest will help you understand more." He handed me the heavy, ancient box I had pulled from under my bed.
I couldn't stay there, not with them watching me. I wandered off into the dark, deeper into the trees where the shadows could hide my face. I needed to be alone for this.
My hands trembled as I sat on the cold ground. I let a small fireball flicker and levitate in the air above me, its light illuminating the ancient patterns on the wood. I pried the lid open. Inside sat an envelope, a heavy metal crest, and a map of lands I didn't recognize.
Seeing my name written on the envelope in a graceful, unknown hand sent a rush of grief through me so violent I couldn't breathe. I let out a cry—a raw, jagged sound of a child mourning for parents she never knew she'd lost. It was the cry of someone finally realizing why they had always felt so alone.
As the tears blurred my vision, I calmed my shaking fingers and broke the seal.