Darkness is covering the land. As the city of Mezrah grows with power and greed, the rest of the world can only stand by and wait for their inevitable destruction. The only hope against this growing power is an ancient prophecy that people have stopped believing in.
Then a star begins to fall.
Princess Kyla of Taramon stopped trusting in the power of light the day her father died. Trapped in a city she does not care for, under the watchful glare of her mother, the queen, she struggles to accept her fate.
Then a star begins to fall.
Jethro has loved Kyla for as long as he can remember. Learning that she was to marry his cousin drove a wedge between him and the feisty princess. Watching her from a distance is a torture he is unable to free himself from.
Then a star begins to fall, sparking an ember of hope and sending these two seekers on a treacherous journey into the unknown.
“Nikara?” Mordekai poked his head into the room, he saw the small lump in the bed and hurriedly approached his apprentice. “Nikara, my dear.” He shook her shoulder.
She let out a soft groan and turned towards him. “Morning already?”
“No. No.” He shook his head. “Sorry to wake you, but this is of the utmost importance.”
Her wide, slanted eyes looked dry as she gazed at him. He knew she would never have the impudence to consciously show it, but he could sense her reticence.
“Please, child. You must see this.”
Biting her rosebud lips together, she slid out from beneath the covers and took the candle he held out to her. Throwing a robe over her shoulders, Mordekai danced like an excited child as he beckoned her to follow.
Her steps were too sleepy and slow for his liking, and he found himself dragging her through the streets. She knew not to question him before she must and stayed silent throughout the short journey. They reached the top of the stairs and stepped out onto his small perch.
“Mordekai, what are we doing up here?”
He turned away from the inky blackness below and gazed up at the sky. His white teeth beamed through his grey beard. “Look through the telescope.”
Nikara covered her yawn with delicate fingers. “Mordekai…”
“Just look, child.”
She blinked slowly. He knew she didn’t like him calling her child anymore; she was nineteen years of age and quite a beauty. He noticed how men now stopped to glance at her, something he was struggling to adjust to. To him, she would always be the little waif he found bleeding on his doorstep.
He bit his lip as she stepped towards the telescope he had spent hours gazing through. He knew the night sky better than anyone in the city.
Nikara squeezed her left eye tight and peered into the lens.
“Do you see my star?”
Her small fingers swivelled the telescope to the north. “Yes,” she mumbled.
He watched her in agitated silence. Her body was rigid, her fingertips turning white as they pressed against the smooth wood.
Had she noticed? Why wasn’t she saying anything?
Finally unable to bear it, he whispered, “Do you notice—”
“It’s moving.” She glanced up at him, her lips parted. “I thought I was seeing things, but…” She bent down to have another look. “It’s…” Stepping away from the telescope, she leaned against the wall. “Mordekai, is it falling?”
He let out a chuckle. “Look for a diamond glowing in the north, though it falls, it will not fail.” He quoted the second part of the prophecy with a laugh.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I was right. The diamond of the prophecy is not the crystal in Taramon Tower. It is this star.”
The one he had discovered sixteen years ago.
Nikara swallowed. “Mordekai, it’s been too long. No one believes the prophecy anymore.”
“Well maybe they should.”
Her lips pressed together in a tight grimace as she looked out into the inky blackness. “Do we tell—?”
“No. No, we mustn’t. He forbade talk of the prophecy years ago; we must keep this to ourselves.”
His face scrunched in thought as he turned his gaze to the far borderlands.
The tremor in her voice was hard to miss, and he felt a touch of guilt as he turned to her. “Pack your things, child. It’s time to leave Mezrah.”