İlyara– Pov
The woman stood before her again.
İlyara's breathing was uneven, her eyes still caught in what she had seen. When she met the woman's blue gaze, she thought she saw something shift deep within it—a dark ripple, fleeting, almost nonexistent.
The woman averted her gaze, let go of İlyara's hand, and then rose to her feet with a slow, deliberate ease.
"If you've calmed down, don't let your soup grow cold," she said, sitting back at the table.
İlyara stayed where she was, watching the way the woman ate for a while. What was she supposed to do—just sit down and eat as if nothing had happened? The thought curled into a faint, mocking smile on her lips.
Her stomach growled. She slowly got up and walked toward the table. What could she even do on an empty stomach—though, truthfully, she couldn't do anything even if she wasn't hungry. The thought made her chest ache.
She sat directly across from the woman and looked at her, but the woman kept eating without lifting her gaze. İlyara picked up her spoon and began to eat her soup. No one spoke throughout the meal.
The woman gathered the empty dishes and started washing them. İlyara did nothing but watch her. After a while, her gaze drifted toward the door. Should she run? Where would she even go?
"You can leave if you want," the woman said. Her back was turned; she dried her hands as she added, "…but where would you go?"
When İlyara looked back at her, their eyes met—but İlyara didn't look away.
"Who are you?" she asked.
The woman leaned against the counter behind her and smiled. "My name is... Elna," she said.
For a brief moment, something tightened in İlyara's chest—something like sorrow. It felt… wrong.
"And your name?" the woman—Elna—asked.
İlyara didn't know if she should tell her, but she didn't care. She thought she deserved whatever would happen to her. Because that voice kept echoing in her mind: "Dad."
"İlyara."
Elna's smile widened. "Nice to meet you, İlyara," she said. "You're probably wondering why I brought you here like this—"
"You kidnapped me," İlyara cut in. Was she making fun of her?
"Ah… yes. That's how it happened," she said, then added, "You should thank me. I saved you from those Morhenas."
Were the Morhenas after her? Why? İlyara should have been the one chasing them. She would find Arın—this time, she would be the one to save him.
"Why? Were they going to attack me?"
"You were running straight toward them. If you try to stop them…" Elna's voice remained calm. "…you'll die."
"Let's say that's true—it still doesn't explain why you brought me here," İlyara said.
Elna inclined her head slightly. "I know what you are," she whispered.
She took İlyara's hands. "The Shadow of the Ancient…"
Who was this Ancient? She kept hearing that name everywhere.
İlyara pulled her hands away and turned toward the door.
"The old woman in the town… she's my mother," Elna said with a smile, sitting down on a chair.
İlyara let go of the door handle, turned back to her, and walked over. She sat in the chair across from her.
"Do you have the same power your mother does?" she asked.
"Yes."
As she spoke, her eyes gleamed; for a brief moment, İlyara saw a red flicker within them. It excited her. Something stirred inside her. She hadn't listened to her mother's words—and she regretted it deeply now.
"C-can you…" She cleared her throat and continued, "…can you control your power?" İlyara's heartbeat had risen so much it roared in her ears.
"Of course," Elna said. "If you want, I can teach you."
İlyara suddenly grabbed Elna's hands. "Yes!" Her voice came out louder than she expected. "I mean… I would really like to learn. But first, we need to save Arın," she said.
"This Arın you speak of—the Morhena who was taken?" Elna asked, her voice laced with disgust.
"Yes. He also talked about the importance of the bond. I think a Yadkan was needed—"
"We don't need anyone. Especially not that nonsense called a bond," she said, pulling her hands away.
Black smoke began to rise from Elna.
Instead of fear, İlyara felt herself drawn closer, though the table still stood between them. When the smoke brushed against her skin, something flared within her—anger, sharp and immediate. She did not retreat. She seized the table and hurled it aside with all her strength.
Standing there, İlyara looked at her hands first, then at Elna. What had she just done?
"It's alright, İlyara," Elna said. Her voice was soft and gentle. "You just drew my anger into yourself."
İlyara felt herself relax at those words and, apologizing, put the table back in its place.
"Why did you react so strongly to this whole bond thing?"
Elna looked at İlyara for a while. A feeling somewhere between anger and sorrow filled İlyara's chest. But this time, she didn't react—she simply waited for an answer.
"I don't have a bond, and I'm still fine. You can't trust Yadkans. Men cannot be trusted," she said, rising to her feet.
"I can't help you save that Morhena, but I can help you learn to control your power—on one condition," she added.
"What is it?"
"You won't go looking for him until your training is complete. And there will be no nonsense about bonds," she said.
İlyara wanted to object, but she couldn't let this opportunity slip away. How many people in this world even had this kind of power? There was a bounty on her head now, and she was alone. But that loneliness wouldn't last forever. No matter what, she would save him—she owed him that.
"Deal."
Elna smiled at her answer.
---
Months had passed; İlyara did whatever Elna told her. She would do whatever it took to bring these cursed powers under control.
During the day, Elna went to work—she claimed to hold a position close to the administration. İlyara remained hidden at home, occupying herself with chores. Elna did not allow her into the city, insisting it would be dangerous for both of them. And since İlyara didn't want anyone else to suffer because of her, she stayed away.
At night, she slipped into the backyard and practiced her abilities on animals. Elna was always there, guiding her. She treated her like an older sister. They laughed together, passed the time together. With no other bed in the house, they shared one. At first, İlyara had hated it, but she grew used to it. It had once been her childhood dream—to have a sister.
And now, within that dream, there were moments when she felt safer than she ever had before.
Until one morning, she woke to an empty house. That was strange—she never left without having breakfast and always said goodbye to İlyara. Several days had passed, and she still hadn't returned.
İlyara decided to go out and look for her. It meant going against her, but she didn't even know if she was alive, and she believed she could control her power well enough now.
She approached the cloak hanging behind the door. It was the one Arın had given her. A sharp ache tightened in her chest. How long had it been since she had seen him? I hope he's safe, she thought, pulling the cloak over herself and drawing the hood up.
She cast one last glance around the house before stepping outside. It was the first time in a long while that she had left.
"Ah!"
"Watch where you're going! Why are you standing in the middle of the road?" someone shouted after bumping into her, then disappeared into the crowd before she could even see who it was.
What a start, she thought. But she didn't let it shake her.
She knew the administrative building—the castle-like structure at the top. That was where she would begin.
The hood was too large, cutting off her vision, so she walked with her eyes lowered. After a while, she noticed the crowd thinning and the road narrowing. She must have been getting close.
"Ah!"
This time, she was the one who bumped into someone. This hood was becoming a problem.
"I'm sorry," she said, trying to move past the man—but he stepped in front of her, blocking her way. To see who she was dealing with, her gaze moved from the ground upward. There was a sword at his left side; its hilt was gold. He wore a uniform.
A Morhena…
Hope flared as she lifted her head and pulled back her hood.
"Arın—"
But it wasn't him.
The Morhena pulled a piece of paper from inside his jacket and looked at it. Then he studied İlyara.
İlyara tensed and took a step back. The Morhena continued to watch her without moving. Then his gaze shifted past her, to something behind her. As İlyara began to turn, a sharp pain struck the back of her neck.
The last thing she saw, before something was thrown over her head, was the Morhena's emotionless gaze.
And then everything went dark.