“No…” Noiro breathed, looking in horror at the ominous villain before them, and then at his old friend.
Professor Neptune looked back at Noiro, a flicker of guilt flashing across his face. But it disappeared just as quickly as it came, replaced with a harsh, cold glower.
“Never you mind,” Professor Neptune snapped. “Do you have it?”
“How could you?” Noiro gasped. “I… I trusted you! All this time!” Tears pricked the corner of his eyes, and he blinked it back furiously. “How could you?!”
“I found it,” Yun Zeru replied, ignoring Noiro’s outburst. He held up an old book in his hand. Two men accompanied him, and Elara recognized one of them from the break-in. “The girl left it at her home when she took off like the coward she is.”
“Give it here,” the Professor ordered, still seated. Yun Zeru tossed the book towards him, and he gracefully snatched it out of the air.
“Careful,” Professor Neptune tutted. “This here is an old book. Quite valuable, if I’m not mistaken.” He looked at Estelle, who was frozen in her spot, horrified.
“Fital’s Tales,” he continued. “One of the rare items that the Old Archives could never get their hands on.”
“Was it worth the trouble?” Yun Zeru scoffed. “You had me find a children’s book? How will that help me get it?”
“Did you read it?” Professor Neptune inquired.
“No,” Yun Zeru jeered. “I don’t do that garbage. I’ll leave that to you.”
Professor Neptune raised an eyebrow, and then began flipping through the book. Elara lunged forwards in hopes of prying the book out of his hands, but one of Yun Zeru’s cronies yanked her back. Another one grabbed Helia roughly by the arm.
Argon howled angrily, lurching towards the two and drawing his sword.
“Ah, ah.” Yun Zeru’s icy voice cut through. “Move another inch, and I’ll slice her throat open.”
Argon froze.
Yun Zeru grinned frigidly, his scar creasing at the sides.
“Now, Estelle…” Professor Neptune mused. He swiveled to face her. “You mentioned something about the Ballad earlier. So one of the ballads here holds the key.”
Estelle glowered at him silently, refusing to say a word.
Professor Neptune began skimming through the book, and came to a pause at the end. “The Ballad of the Ancient Princess.”
For the first time since the group had run into Professor Neptune that day, he stopped smiling, his face dropping to a solemn expression as he began to read.
“Well?” Yun Zeru demanded. “How do we get it?”
Professor Neptune’s beady eyes flicked back and forth as he reread the Ballad once again. He remained silent, his finger tapping rhythmically on his chin. “The First?” Professor Neptune thought aloud in a soft murmur. He furrowed his brow, confused.
“Well?”
“It’s just like we thought,” Professor Neptune finally spoke. “We need to get all of them.”
“All of them?”
“What are you talking about?” Noiro demanded. “Get rid of who? Professor… Why are you doing this?”
Professor Neptune looked at his old friend. “Power,” he said simply. He turned to Yun Zeru. “To get the Elemental power, we need the First.”
“The First? What?” Yun Zeru demanded. “What are you talking about?”
“Noiro, elaborate.” Professor Neptune shifted his head towards him.
Noiro glared stonily at him, his blood boiling. He pursed his lips shut, refusing to speak.
“Silent?” Professor Neptune smiled. “Funny. You never were one to stay quiet…” He walked over to the small apparatus in the corner of his office, his hands delicately tracing the gleaming strands of metal that held up the elemental bodies: emerald, sapphire, diamond, and ruby.
The Elemental Dial.
The four stones pulsated slowly, vibrating with energy. Professor Neptune eyed his invention, a clever glint reflecting off of his toothy sneer. “Funny how it only seems to do that when you all are here,” he said curiously. He looked at Noiro, and then eyed Argon, Elara, Helia, and Miela.
Noiro gritted his teeth.
“Still refusing to say anything, old friend?” the Professor said, his voice dripping with thick, sickening sugar.
Noiro glared at Neptune.
“All right, I’ll tell you, then.” The Professor stretched his lips into a smile. “Power. It all comes down to power. The most powerful drivers of the Earth are its elements. Think of all of that… The potential! By harnessing the power of the elements, everything would be in the palm of our hands. Food. Weather. Water. We could conquer the world. Instead of sending men to fight, we would send the elements to do our dirty work for us. Sweep the world with devastating droughts, floods, fires, hurricanes, earthquakes. Destruction. All of that power. All of that might… We could control the world.”
Elara’s heart sank into the pit of her stomach, the words of the Ballad echoing in her ears.
Unbeknownst to the Ancient Princess, on that fateful day,
It was no ordinary stone that fell in her way.
For she had consumed the First,
The key to the Elements in which she was immersed.
Mystified by the First and its power,
She feared what might happen with hands that went sour.
Plagued with fears of her prospering empire falling once more,
She set out to secure the world as her existence’s core.
“You’re going to destroy the world,” Elara uttered in dismay.
“I’m going to control the world,” Professor Neptune corrected.
Elara stared at the man hopelessly. This is what it meant to have the power of the elements in the wrong hands, why the Ancient Princess went to such lengths to hide the Aether stone.
There was so much good that came out of the Aether stone. With the War of Waters having decimated the planet, and humanity pushed to the brink of extinction, it was the power of the stone that brought humanity back. Brought life back.
But there was so much destruction that could be done, too.
Elara squeezed her eyes shut. She wished that that wretched stone had been destroyed.
“I just need the last piece of the puzzle,” Neptune murmured. “The source of the elements. The First…”
“It’s been lost for centuries,” Noiro growled. “You’ll never get your hands on it.”
“Ah, so you do know what the First is.” Professor Neptune corked an eyebrow, looking like a pleased cat who finally caught its prey. “You’re right, though; it’s been lost to the ages. Believe me, I’ve spent years of searching through the world’s mines of precious stones. Raiding people’s homes. Collecting old jewels.” Professor Neptune sighed. “Nothing.”
“Let us go,” Elara spoke, her voice harsh and steady, growing tired of listening to the depraved ramblings of the Professor.
“There’s no point in wasting any more time looking for something that’s lost,” he continued, ignoring Elara. He looked down at his old, delicate hands, hardened and wrinkled with time. “I don’t have much time left on this Earth, you see. I don’t have much more time…And then, I thought, what if I could recreate the First?”
Recreate the First?
He turned his head to Argon and Estelle. “Descendants of the Ancient Princess. Her blood flows through your veins. All I need is your blood to turn into stone. All I need is to get my hands on every last descendant of the Ancient Princess.”
Elara’s breath caught in her throat. All the pieces fell into place, and suddenly everything made sense. Why Argon was first attacked in the time shadows. The break in. The stolen family pictures. The stolen heirlooms. Why Estelle was so terrified of the Aether Stone falling into the wrong hands, so much so that she slit her own throat rather than give up the secret. Why their mother was hunted and murdered in cold blood.
Why Inana Erif and her family were targeted.
Why so many more were.
>
Targets. They were all targets.
Every last one of the Ancient Princess’s descendants were targets.
“The Tawers. Drain their blood for the Elemental Dial.”
Yun Zeru sniggered gleefully and asked, “And the Elemental?” He eyeballed little Helia hungrily.
“Like we originally planned,” the Professor crooned. “Get her. Keep her. We’ll find more. We need agents to control the elements. Warriors. Who better to use than Elementals?”
Elara’s blood ran cold.
Helia.
They were going to take her away.
That’s why they were after Elementals.
How many more Elementals were out there? How many more would be captured? Recruited? Brainwashed? Blackmailed? Forced to serve Professor Neptune and carry out his sinister plans of controlling the Earth’s elements?
How many would be killed?
Elara felt a lump grow in her throat, and she struggled to breathe as realization sank in.
Was that why she had sent Helia back through time?
Were they trying to capture Helia?
Were they trying to kill Helia?
It didn’t matter, now. Elara shook her head, her heart breaking as she thrashed against Yun Zeru’s men, trying to break free to save her.
She was going to fail.
“NO,” Argon roared, lunging forward toward his daughter. He was held back once more. He struggled with all his might to try and break free, but to no avail.
“Professor, you’re wrong,” Noiro pleaded with his old friend. “This is wrong. Please. Don’t do this.”
“Don’t you see?” the Professor replied simply. “It’s for the greater good. It’s for power.” He turned his head to Yun Zeru. “Do it now. We need their blood.”
“How much of it?”
“All of it.”
More of Yun Zeru’s men swarmed into the room, holding them captive. Miela struggled against her captor, the blade he held to her throat pressing against the thin skin of her neck, droplets of blood gathering at the tip of the dagger. Argon had two men holding him back, restraining his arms as he tried to wildly break free from their grasp. Noiro was locked in a death grip by another captor, his breath catching in his throat, his eyes bloodshot and watery as he fought for air. Estelle was trapped against the wall by another, her hoarse screams echoing off the walls. Elara struggled against her captor as he roughly held her down, screaming until her throat was raw as Yun Zeru strode over to the toddler and picked her up by her neck, screaming and pleading to be let go.
Was this it?
Elara saw Helia’s little legs kick in the air and weakly grasp at the large, grubby hands enclosed around her throat as she was brought closer to Yun Zeru’s face.
Elara closed her eyes.
They were all going to die.
She couldn’t bring herself to watch.
She failed.
Twice.
Elara cried, large, fat tears rolling down her cheeks as she screamed for her baby. She pushed back against her captor to no avail.
There was nothing she could do.
Professor Neptune just sat back in his seat, outwardly bemused by the entire ordeal.
One by one, the men drew their weapons.
“Drain them all, for good measure,” the Professor sneered. “And get the Elemental.”
With that, the men drove their weapons deep into each of their hostages’ bodies, a horrible crunching sound ripping through them as they twisted the blades into their insides and roughly yanked them out. Elara felt the air gurgle in her airway as she struggled to breathe, a blinding, searing pain overpowering her senses.
Blood splattered onto the floor, staining the marble deep crimson. She felt the hand holding her up suddenly let go, letting her body topple over, falling with a splash into the puddle of blood quickly pooling beneath her. She kept her eyes open, desperately looking for Helia, her head frozen in place.
Was she all right?
Was she hurt?
She caught a glimpse of her baby, and her breath caught in her throat at the sight of her own daughter being taken away from her.
And with that, she breathed her last.
THE SURVIVOR
Screaming.
The only noise that rung through Helia’s ears was the shrill, piercing sound of screaming. She spun her head wildly back and forth, her eyes raking over the sprawled out bodies before her. Mama. Dad. Uncle Noiro. Auntie Miela. Auntie Estelle. She didn’t understand.
Why weren’t they waking up?
Couldn’t they hear her?
Couldn’t they see her?
Her Mama’s eyes were open, unseeingly watching her as she felt big, gruff hands roughly pick her up, as if she were nothing but a ragdoll, and throw her over a sharp, muscular shoulder. Her stomach heaved as it landed hard against the man’s shoulder, the wind whooshing out of her lungs. She kicked helplessly against her captor, her small arms reaching out towards her Mama. Her throat was dry and sore, her voice growing hoarse from screaming.
“Mama! MAMA!” she called desperately, flailing and twisting her body as the man’s grip tightened around her.
Why wouldn’t she wake up?
Her eyes were open.
She could see her, right?
“MAMA!”
Helia squealed as she sailed through the air, grunting as her body rolled against the rough, jagged floor before slamming hard against the concrete wall. Her head banged against the wall, and she yelped in pain. “Wait!” she cried, quickly crawling on her knees towards the thick, iron door. “WAIT!”
The door heavily slammed shut, the sound of the thick lock clicking in place echoing through the small, dark, moldy room.
Her eyes stung as tears began to well up, and she felt the lump in her throat grow thicker. Her body felt tight and sore, her muscles tensing as she scanned the room, eyes barely being able to make out what might be lurking in the dark, hidden depths of her cell. All sorts of monsters prowled in the dark. She needed her night lantern to keep them at bay.
But who could she ask?
The monsters who threw her in here?
Helia shuffled back against the wall, her eyes wild and alert as she searched for something, anything, that could be with her in her tiny room. Cold water dripped periodically from the ceiling, falling onto her head and seeping into her scalp. She shuddered. The smell of mold suddenly overwhelmed her senses, and she felt her stomach twist painfully around her gut. She threw her hands over her mouth, heaving as she retched. The acid from her stomach stung her raw throat, and she grasped at her neck as vomit dribbled from her chin and onto her soiled clothes.
Dirty, fouled, scared, cold.
Alone.
Helia miserably put her head down onto her knees and wailed loudly. There was nothing else she could do.
“Elemental 0001,” a brusque man barked.
Helia looked up at the man towering over her tiny stature. His hard face stared sternly at her, his bushy, greying eyebrows hanging heavy over his small, black eyes. She winced, the lights in the bright, white hall were bright compared to her dark, dingy cell. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, and then looked down at the floor.
“Elemental 0001,” the man repeated, his voice rising harshly.
Helia looked at him again, confused. What did he mean? She frowned. Elemental. That word was familiar. Where had she heard it before? Her Mama’s face floated to the surface, and she could vaguely remember the word being used during one of her grownup talks. Helia felt tears gather in the corner of her eyes as she tried to focus hard on her Mama’s face. What were the color of her eyes, again?
“YOU,” the man boomed, suddenly lunging forward and yanking her arm hard toward him. He snarled, “Listen to me when I call you, you filthy brat.”
Helia snapped her head up at him, tears dripping from her terrified eyes. “I- I…” she stammered. She was confused. Was he calling her? She didn’t hear her name. She knew her name.
Auntie Miela walked over, her boots smartly clipping against the Grand Library’s marble floors. “Your Mama’s smart, kid,” she said, also kneeling down to Helia. “My name’s Miela. Can you tell me your name?”
“H-Helia,” she replied, sniffing as she wiped her cheeks and nose with the back of her hand.
“My name is Helia,” she said slowly.
She was sure of it.
Uncle Noiro grunted when he felt one of his knees creak as it rested against the marble floor. “We’re going to help you find your Mama, but we need your help. Can you be brave and help us find your Mama?”
Her sobs quieted at his gentle tone. She nodded.
“I’m brave,” she said quietly.
“Yes, you are,” Uncle Noiro praised. “Now, Helia is a wonderful name, but I bet that’s only what your Mama calls you. What do other people call you?”
“Helia,” she repeated, confused.
“It’s a beautiful name.” Uncle Noiro smiled.
Helia’s heart ripped apart as the kind words of her beloved Auntie Miela and Uncle Noiro echoed in her head.
“Your name is Elemental 0001,” the man’s voice thundered. Helia shrunk back.
“I’m brave,” she said quietly.
“Yes, you are,” Uncle Noiro praised.
“I’m brave,” Helia dared, her knees shaking beneath her as she spoke back to the man.
A loud smack sounded, and her cheek stung. Her head reeled back, feeling as if it would almost fall off of her neck. “You’re filth,” the man retorted, and then laughed. He threw a sack of clothes at her, and she buckled at the weight of it thrown against her tiny frame. “These are yours. You will wear them, wash them, and wear them again.”
Helia looked down at the sack and peered into it, wrinkling her nose at the old, dirty clothes. They were made from a rough, scratchy material, and looked like the color of sand. She ran her hand against the fabric, and looked at the man. Her finger traced against the fresh stitching of ‘0001’ on the breast pocket.
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