What Remained Unseen

SPOILER WARNING – The Tales from Divinia are companion stories best enjoyed after reading the main novel. What Remained Unseen takes place across a series of scenes throughout The Trials of Divinia and therefore contains spoilers.

Blurb:

Chosen by the goddess of dreams, Elara enters the Celestial Trials not to fight, but to watch. Guided by a fractured prophecy, she observes champions, gods, and monsters alike – weighing doubt against devotion, truth against rumour. As the trials unfold, Elara quietly helps shape outcomes that will decide Divinia’s fate, solving riddles that expose villains, save the condemned, and avert catastrophe. Yet one part of the prophecy eludes her. In the aftermath of victory, Elara must face an unsettling truth: some dangers are not defeated, only delayed. And what remains unseen may yet consume them all.

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It started as a night like any other. Her dreams drifted from one scene to the next – sometimes she was part of them, watching from behind her own eyes, whilst in others she observed from the sidelines. There were moonlit skies, swirling clouds, and faceless figures wandering soundlessly through her thoughts – occasionally pausing to watch for a moment before moving on.

Only when the night began to draw to a close did she see her – a woman with pale skin, silvery hair not unlike her own, and dark robes that blended with the shadows at the edge of her mind’s eye. The woman half walked, half floated towards her, her feet bare, her temples adorned by a thin metallic circlet lined with tiny gems, causing it to stand out even beneath the cover of darkness. As she stared, the woman looked up, and a pair of bottomless grey eyes locked onto hers.

She knew this woman. Or, rather, she suspected she did, but even as she looked, her mind struggled to accept the identity of the goddess standing before her – was she truly there? Or was this merely an extension of her imagination?

Then, as if to confirm it, she spoke.

“You are Elara Moonshadow,” she said quietly, her voice carrying the certainty of one who had no need to ask. “I am Morpheus, keeper of dreams, and I come to you on this night to seek a mortal who may walk my chosen path, and stand for Elysium in the coming Celestial Trials.”

“My lady,” Elara replied in a hushed tone, bowing her head in respect. “I am honoured that you have chosen to appear before me, and that you might consider me for such a prestigious position.”

Morpheus did not blink. She showed no sign of emotion at all. She simply moved on.

“Before you choose whether to accept this calling, you must understand what is being asked of you,” Morpheus continued. “This will not be an easy role, nor one measured by triumph. I do not seek a champion to win in my name. I seek one who can guide the course of Divinia, who will carry my intent into a world that has begun to drift, and shape what follows in these troubled times.”

Elara stared at Morpheus in wonder. She had come to her not merely seeking a champion for the Celestial Trials, but searching for someone she could use as a mortal instrument – someone who might help change the world for the better. It was a truly momentous request. She had never envisaged such a future for herself, but if this was to be her destiny, she knew she must welcome it with an open embrace.

“I can offer you a prophecy,” Morpheus continued, her voice low and distant, as though it echoed from somewhere far beyond the dream itself. “For the dreamscape has whispered of a path only my champion may walk – a path where all others would falter. Should they endure it, the fates of the young, the old, and even the terribly ancient may yet be rewritten.

Do you wish to hear what has been shown to me?”

Elara nodded eagerly.

“Then listen,” the goddess said. “In this year – the year of the 896th Celestial Trials – it is the champion of Elysium who stands between Divinia and its undoing. Their purpose shall not be measured by triumph or defeat, but by the currents they redirect and the choices they set in motion. Five truths must be fulfilled: that through their hand, a great champion will rise, even when challenged by divine opposition; that a villain, condemned without justice, will be spared; that a mystery long festering in the realm of the gods will be unbound; that an assassin, hidden in the open gaze of many, will be revealed; and that a soul which does not belong will be drawn from the darkness before it consumes us all.”

She paused, taking in the weight of what had been asked of her. Morpheus watched in silence for a moment before speaking again.

“I know this is no small thing I place before you,” the goddess said. “But I do not come to mortals without reason, nor do paths such as this reveal themselves by chance. I stand here because you are capable of what is being asked – no more, and no less. Still, the choice remains yours.”

“I shall not let you down, my lady,” Elara said, bowing her head once more. “It will be the greatest honour of my life to walk the path you have shown me.”

For a fleeting moment, Morpheus’ expression shifted – the barest suggestion of a smile touching her lips before it faded once more into stillness.

“Then we will meet again in Concordia,” she said. “What you require will be made clear to you when you wake. Until then, rest well.”

Elara sat in the dining hall. Opposite her was Kael Greenbark, champion of Verdantia, who was talking excitedly about his homeland. Whilst Kael did most of the talking, she felt relaxed and, to her slight surprise, genuinely interested.

“I come from a city called Feybrook,” he was saying. “It’s one of the most northern settlements in all of Divinia. Of course, we don’t spend much of our time in the city – that’s not the Verdantian way. We prefer to go out into the great forests, seeking adventure and companionship. There are creatures there – duskstalkers – which I imagine have some Elysian qualities. They’re found in our twilight groves, covered in dusky fur, evading threats by perfectly mimicking the sounds around them…”

As he spoke, she considered the other champions she had met. There were only small things that had stood out so far – the false bravado of the Tempestus champion, as though he were trying too hard to impress someone; or the quiet reserve of the Luminara champion, unwilling to follow her teammates’ example and boast about her perceived intelligence. Even so, Elara sensed there was more to this group than first appearances suggested.

“What about you?” Kael asked, drawing her attention back to the scene before her. “I would love to know more about where you grew up. Sylvanis tells me that Morpheus has taken a keen interest in following your progress since you became champion.”

She paused at that. There was something in his words that went beyond simple curiosity – a deep-rooted uncertainty. He was seeking reassurance, she realised.

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” she said, putting as much warmth into her voice as she could find. “She appeared before me one starlit night, but we have not spoken since I arrived in Concordia – and yet, it sounds as though you and Sylvanis, on the other hand…” She let the sentence hang in the air.

Kael glanced around before leaning in conspiratorially, placing the piece of fruit he had been holding down on the table.

“Sylvanis has been a little… odd,” he admitted. “Different to what I expected. He has been challenging me to think differently about how I wish to approach the trials that await us here. His council representative too – Rowan Thistlebrook. They have made some suggestions which have left me feeling quite… uncomfortable.”

Elara thought of the words now burned into her mind.

That through their hand, a great champion will rise, even when challenged by divine opposition.

“How so?” she asked.

Kael frowned. “I do not want to say too much,” he said. “I know Verdantia were victorious last year, and there is pressure on me to maintain that standard. However,” he paused again, “let’s just say there are some things that are not worth setting aside your morals for – even at the request of your god.”

She opened her mouth to reply when a loud shout echoed across the hall, causing Kael to lean back quickly as he looked around for the source of the noise.

“Careful, Iceheart,” called out Zara Lightbringer, the Solaris champion. “You keep standing in the corner like that, and someone might mistake you for a statue.”

The target of her jibe was Orion Iceheart, the Nivalis champion.

“I’ll leave the theatrics to Solaris,” he replied, earning a round of laughter from Zara’s group.

“I’d better get going,” Kael said suddenly. “Lots of training to do. It was nice chatting, Elara. I’ll see you soon.”

With that, he rose from the table and hurried away.

She replayed the conversation in her mind as she stood and followed at a distance. The prophecy had spoken of a disconnect between the mortal and the divine. Could Kael be the great champion Morpheus had meant?

A flicker of crimson light caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. She turned, startled, but there was nothing there – just one of the aetherbound moving slowly about its business. She walked on, her thoughts whirring.

She raced between the hedgerows, her breath coming in short, rapid bursts. One of her teammates, Lysandre, was moaning softly beside her, whilst another, Mireth, struggled to steady herself. The first trial had clearly taken its toll on them both.

At last, the beacon came into view, standing a short distance ahead and drawing them towards it. But as Elara prepared to urge her teammates onwards, she caught sight of another trio on the adjacent path. Among them was the Ferroxia champion, Talon Drakeforge, whom she had only met in passing during the events leading up to the trials.

They appeared to be in trouble. The smallest of their group – a young girl with dark, curly hair – had become entangled in a huge vine trap, which was dragging her towards a deep pit from which the thickest of its tendrils emerged. Talon and his other teammate, a young woman with auburn hair who carried an intricate wooden staff, moved with uncertainty – the woman hacking at the vines to little effect, whilst Talon stared down at the sword in his hand, panic written plainly across his face.

As Elara watched, Talon jolted into action. He swung the blade, severing the vine that held the girl fast, before lunging forwards and, with the other woman’s help, hauling her up and away from the pit.

Lysandre, who had not noticed the brief struggle, confirmed her readiness to continue, and they moved on. Yet Elara’s thoughts no longer rested on the beacon ahead, but on the young boy from the land of fire.

When they reached the beacon and the hedges fell away to reveal the champions who had already completed the trial, she felt a twinge of disappointment. There stood the braggadocious boy from Tempestus, Cassian Stormrider, and the softly spoken Luminarian, Calista Dawnstar, alongside Kael – all of them spattered with muck and dirt. Talon had not yet made it.

A short time later, she stood in the Hall of Gathering and watched with interest as the remaining champions arrived one by one. To her surprise, Kael arrived last. His tunic was suddenly fresh, his uncovered skin clean, a fixed smile set carefully in place.

He had conformed after all. Perhaps he was not the one.

Then she thought of Talon – how he had fought to save his teammates, how he had flinched in Thoros’ presence during the opening ceremony. This was no typical Ferroxian. This must be the champion Morpheus had foreseen.

She smiled to herself. One down, four to go.

Elara walked slowly away from the Hall of Gathering. After four trials, her team had amassed just eleven points, leaving them in sixth place overall. It was not important. What mattered was the champions’ dinner, taking place later that evening.

Over the past few days, she had grown frustrated by her lack of progress and the absence of clear leads to follow. Still, she remained hopeful that seeing champions, gods, and council representatives gathered together in one place might offer the opportunity for new discoveries.

As she entered the Elysium quarters – its soft light a pale imitation of her homeland – she heard low voices drifting from the largest of its rooms, the one she suspected had been designated for time together as a team. It was something she mostly avoided; she had quickly realised her teammates were more a hindrance than a help.

This time, however, she paused to listen – concealed by the shadows.

“It’s getting ridiculous now,” Lysandre was saying in a hushed whisper that still carried. “The Luminara trial should have been our chance to get back up the leaderboard, but it didn’t even feel like Elara was concentrating for half the time.”

“I blame Morpheus,” Mireth said firmly, not hiding the bitterness in her voice. “Elysium is the least successful region in the Celestial Trials for a reason. Who picks the champions? She does.”

“I did rather think she’d be around a bit more to guide us,” agreed another speaker – Elara recognised the voice of Aerin Solace, one of the two boys on her team.

He had joined her for the Nivalis trial and had spent most of the event panicking about the ice and snow. She had vowed not to pick him for future trials, so she needn’t suffer through his endless moaning.

“What can we do?” asked Mireth. “Even if we could somehow speak to Morpheus without Elara finding out, she can’t change the champion halfway through the trials, can she?”

“What about Aelthar Nightwhisper?” suggested Aerin. “He’s our Celestial Council representative – surely he could help us seek a meeting with her?”

“Aelthar?” Lysandre said with a harsh laugh. “He’s only concentrating on helping one team succeed, and it’s not ours. He’s obsessed with Ferroxia. You’ve seen him trailing round after their councillor, and heard how he speaks of Thoros – the mighty god of fire.”

Elara could almost hear Lysandre rolling her eyes.

“Another fine choice from Morpheus,” said Mireth. “I think we see this through – but we keep careful track of what’s happening. Every time she lets us down. When all this is over, we go to the Oracle. Start forcing real change in Elysium.”

There was murmured agreement – not just from Lysandre and Aerin, but from others too. Elara could picture the scene: the six young Elysians, void of meaningful dreams or divine guidance, speculating on things they did not understand.

And yet…

A villain, condemned without justice, will be spared.

Perhaps Morpheus herself was the villain. She had certainly just been condemned unfairly. And if she fell… well, that would surely leave Divinia worse off.

She turned and retreated to her room, leaving her team to their idle gossip.

Her mood had darkened by the time she returned to the Hall of Gathering that evening. She had tried to dismiss what she had overheard, but it lingered, replaying in her mind.

As she passed one of the aetherbound on her way into the hall, she caught the now-familiar flash of red, which vanished the moment she turned towards it. She wondered if what hurt most was not their words, but the fact that they echoed her own doubts. She was no closer to solving Morpheus’ prophecy, nor to fulfilling her true purpose here.

She took her seat at the dining table. The small place cards that had been laid out had positioned her beside Kael, with Talon one seat further along. After a quick glance around to ensure no one was watching, she quietly swapped the two over. Whilst she was confident he was the champion Morpheus had foreseen, she needed more time to observe the Ferroxian closely – and to offer whatever support she could, should the opportunity present itself.

Dinner was subdued. She chose to listen rather than speak. As ever, Kael dominated the friendlier stretches of conversation, sharing yet more stories of duskstalkers as a means of carefully fishing for useful information from his peers. Orion and Calista joined in, both noticeably more at ease than when they had first arrived in Concordia, thanks to Talon’s efforts – intentional or otherwise. She even sensed a flirtatious undertone in the way the Luminarian looked at her Ferroxian counterpart. It was endearing how little he noticed it.

As Cassian ensured the pleasantries eventually descended into name-calling and what he likely perceived as mind games ahead of the remaining trials, her attention began to drift. She studied the aetherbound instead. She had never seen so many of them up close before – they were usually solitary figures within the halls, or too distant when stationed around the Arena of Trials. Once again, the red tinge was evident, as though an internal flame pressed at the edges of their ill-defined forms, yearning for escape.

A mystery long festering in the realm of the gods will be unbound.

The third strand of the prophecy clicked into place in her mind. The aetherbound.

She turned excitedly to Talon.

“I was wondering,” she said, once he had acknowledged her and shown he was listening. “Have you noticed that sometimes they glow red?”

“What?” Talon asked, clearly confused.

She motioned carefully towards the creatures moving between the tables. It was important that Talon work out his part in this for himself; she could only guide him in the right direction.

“Their light,” she said. “It flickers sometimes. Their colour changes.”

The boy watched for a moment, then stiffened.

“Ah. You do see it,” she whispered.

“I… don’t know,” he replied.

She shrugged. She should not apply too much pressure too soon. She had planted the thought – that was enough, for now.

One by one, the champions were called forwards to speak with the gods. Eventually, her name was called, and she rose from her seat, moving to the head of the table before taking a knee with the same care as the others.

For several moments, no one spoke.

“Does anyone have any words for the Elysium champion?” asked Lykarian Starbound, the kindly man who oversaw many of the trial proceedings. He sounded uncertain.

She glanced up. Most of the gods seemed distracted, some even bored, with Thoros and Zephyros still murmuring to one another beneath their breath.

“I do.”

Morpheus.

She rose serenely and drifted towards Elara before lowering herself beside her. Elara caught Heliora and Athenaea exchanging a bemused glance, but it barely registered. In this moment, only Morpheus mattered.

“One you recognised without doubt,” Morpheus murmured into her ear. “Another has misled you. A third has asked something more difficult – trust. The rest will reveal themselves in time. Be patient. Watch carefully. The evening is far from over.”

With that, the goddess rose and returned to her throne.

“Alright…” Lykarian said eventually. “Thank you, Elara. You may return to the other champions.”

Whilst Morpheus’ words were often hard to discern, her message on this occasion had been startlingly direct. The goddess believed her faith in Talon was well founded, but that her fear that Morpheus herself was the villain was misplaced. Her recent realisation about the aetherbound, however, was one she should trust. And what was more, the evening’s festivities might yet offer further insight.

Rejuvenated, she set out onto the dancefloor.

“There’s nothing to ask him,” Kael said, his eyes fixed on Cassian. “We already know who took out Orion… don’t we?”

This was not the development she had been anticipating.

She had watched the events of the previous night closely, tracking every movement, every choice, and every exit. Whilst the Tempestian champion was undoubtedly unlikeable, he had spent most of the night seated apart, wallowing in his own self-pity. One poor result was all it had taken to shatter his confidence, and the bold bully had quickly given way to a lost child.

“You’ve always hated Orion,” Zara was saying, her thirst to prove herself unabated. She attached herself to anyone she felt might help give her an advantage.

“You were angry. Embarrassed by the Luminara trial,” Kael continued, his voice rising until he was almost shouting. She had not thought him capable of such emotion. “You couldn’t handle the fact that your lead had been cut. You needed someone to take the fall. So, you waited. And when the moment came – when everyone’s attention was elsewhere, even the gods – you chose to strike.”

Kael continued his tirade, reaching towards Cassian, before the other boy finally offered a quiet denial. Both boys grew angrier, and Zara more hysterical, before Calista at last turned to Talon.

“I don’t think it was Cassian,” he said, his words slow and precise.

“What do you mean?” Kael thundered. “Sylvanis told me…”

“Sylvanis wasn’t there,” Talon said, navigating the Verdantian with caution. He was doing an admirable job. “No one was. It was me and my team who found Orion.”

Talon and Kael stared at one another for several moments before Talon continued.

“Yes, we found a Tempestian weapon nearby – but it had been hidden with so little effort. Even if the blade’s owner was capable of the attack, I can’t believe they would be careless enough to leave it so close to the scene.”

“But…” Kael began.

She sighed inwardly. Then the realisation struck her.

A villain, condemned without justice, will be spared.

She would not have believed it if she had not seen the conversation unfold before her.

“There was not enough time for Cassian or anyone on his team to have committed the crime.”

Every head in the room snapped towards her. If the situation had not been so serious, the sight might have made her laugh. She had never craved these people’s attention, but she certainly had it now.

“Talon and his team left the hall exactly twenty minutes after Orion last night,” she explained. “During that time, no one from Tempestus left the room. Zephyros was speaking with Athenaea. Their council representative was dancing with Lykarian. And those horrible boys on his team? They were all too busy making fun of Cassian for his terrible dancing.”

She paused, briefly considering what else she had seen, and how much to share. No, she decided – those revelations were best saved until she was more certain. There was no need to unsettle Talon at such a critical juncture.

“I do not believe Talon had the time or the inclination to commit the crime between leaving the hall and the alarm being sounded,” she said instead. “Which means the culprit was already outside – someone who saw Orion, took the opportunity to attack, and then attempted to shift the blame onto an easy target. Someone they knew no one liked. Someone we had reason to distrust.”

Five stunned faces stared back at her.

“What?” Elara asked, bemused. “Don’t the rest of you pay attention to these things?”

This was… not unpleasant, but certainly not what she would have chosen for her afternoon’s activity.

She was flying, seated atop a Ferroxian drake which Talon and his friends had helped her mount. Somewhere behind her, Lysandre and Mireth followed – she hadn’t bothered to look back and check.

As ever, she was only half-focused on the trial unfolding around her. Her thoughts were instead occupied with what she had learned.

There was the champion – Talon.

There was the villain – Cassian.

There was the mystery – the aetherbound.

And there was the one who had struck Orion – who could be one of only two possibilities.

Both were members of Talon’s team: the older, mentor-like figure, and the younger girl who bore a resemblance to Ferroxia’s representative on the Celestial Council.

Both had stepped out of the hall during the dancing. Both had returned. And yet neither, as far as she had heard, had offered any account of what they had seen, or of what had happened to Orion. In a place like Concordia, that silence was telling.

Her drake touched down with only a slight wobble as they reached the end of the course.

Then she saw him – the tall, muscular man with streaked grey hair and beard, striding down from the stands at the edge of the Arena of Trials. He looked angry. Furious, in fact.

She watched with interest as he stood, all but vibrating with rage, until Talon arrived – before unleashing an immediate reproach of the Ferroxian champion’s actions.

He stormed away, leaving Talon looking stunned and crestfallen.

Here, at least, was someone who was not as good at hiding things as he believed.

Elara stood blissfully alone in the centre of the Arena of Trials. Before her rose the archway leading to the Dreamer’s Crucible – Morpheus’ trial.

The goddess smiled faintly as Elara approached.

“My dreams have followed the paths you have walked,” she said softly. “Much has already come into alignment.”

Elara inclined her head, accepting the words for what they were.

“When you leave this place today,” Morpheus continued, “there are two things that must yet be set in motion. You must speak with Talon. Tell him to watch for the path that cannot be seen. And you must warn the other champions of what awaits them. They will need more than resolve when the moment comes.”

She nodded again, understanding settling into certainty.

“And the one who prepares to betray him?” she asked.

“That thread is already being drawn,” Morpheus replied. “Some lessons cannot be given – only revealed. You have done what was required of you.”

Four down, one to go, Elara thought.

A soul which does not belong will be drawn from the darkness before it consumes us all.

It was the only part of the prophecy that remained unresolved.

“Come,” Morpheus said, extending a hand towards the archway. “Enter the Crucible before absence invites attention. And remember – even here, it is not too late to show them what an Elysium champion truly is.”

Tightening her resolve, Elara drew a breath and stepped through the archway.

The champions rose quickly as Lykarian finished his announcement.

She needed to act quickly.

At last, Calista moved away, leaving her path to Talon clear.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” she said. “But before you return to your team, I must tell you something.”

He frowned at her – but in his typically befuddled way, rather than with any hint of annoyance or frustration.

“Look for the stairs,” she said.

“What?”

“Look for the stairs,” she repeated. She could not have been much clearer. “If you find them, they will carry you on a path to the divine – one the champion must walk to save us all.”

He began to reply, but her attention was already fixed on the other champions moving in different directions. She needed to reach them quickly.

“I love that for you,” she said, signalling that the conversation was over. Then, as an afterthought, she added, “Good luck tonight, Talon. Watch out for the veilstalker.”

Veilstalker – Elysian slang for a hidden threat lurking in the shadows.

It would make sense to him eventually. Morpheus would do the rest.

She hurried after the others. Cassian was long gone, but that did not concern her – as the second competitor in the Final Trial, he would be prepared regardless. The rest, expecting to attend only as spectators, were her priority.

“Wait,” she called out. She detested raising her voice, but there were few alternatives left. To her relief, Kael, Calista, and Zara all turned to look at her, surprise plain on their faces.

“What’s wrong?” Zara asked, her dislike evident in her tone.

Kael and Calista still appeared too shaken by their experience in the Crucible to speak.

“I know you do not trust me, or my kind,” Elara said, addressing the Solarian champion. “But if you hold even a single ounce of respect for me, you will do me this one favour.”

She placed careful emphasis on each word, hoping they would grasp the importance she was trying to convey.

“Tonight, when you return for the Final Trial, come prepared as though you were to face the trial yourselves. We do not know what may yet await us.”

Silence.

Zara opened her mouth to retort, but Calista cut her off.

“We will,” she said. “I don’t know what it is you know – or what you think you know – but you have not steered us wrong yet. Thank you for warning us.”

Elara felt an unexpected surge of gratitude towards the Luminarian. Talon had good taste.

Zara still looked unhappy. Kael still looked despondent. But neither argued.

Satisfied, Elara moved on.

The trials were over. Talon had been victorious. Cassian’s redemption had been confirmed. The truth of the aetherbound had been revealed. Talon’s teammate – Garrick Stoneflame – had been exposed as Orion’s attacker, and had since been killed. Most importantly, Morpheus had been spared exile – or worse – at the hands of the other gods, thanks to Talon’s intervention.

And yet, as Elara stood once more in the Hall of Gathering – likely for the final time – something still troubled her. The fifth strand of the prophecy had not been realised. A soul had not been saved.

In the gods’ council chamber, she had listened carefully to the many accounts of what had transpired, searching for some overlooked detail, some thread she might yet follow. But all that had become clear was how distant she still was from understanding the final truth.

For a time, she had believed Selene Ashveil – whom she had once suspected of attempted murder – or her sister, Isolde, might be the answer. But Morpheus’ testimony had dispelled that notion. Selene had proven she did belong, and so could not be the soul spoken of. Isolde, meanwhile, had not been drawn from the darkness at all – she had embraced it willingly, standing beside Thoros.

Morpheus drifted soundlessly to her side.

“You are unsettled,” the goddess observed.

“I failed,” Elara said quietly. “I did not uncover the final truth of the prophecy.”

Morpheus regarded her for a long moment.

“Failed?” she echoed at last. “No. I do not believe that is the word for this.”

She turned her gaze towards the chamber beyond, where the other gods still lingered.

“Some paths do not reveal themselves until the world is ready to walk them,” she continued. “The Celestial Trials have ended, but the greater trials they set in motion have only just begun.”

Elara inclined her head as Morpheus continued her path around the room.

She allowed herself a small smile. What came next might not be easy, but she knew, instinctively, that her true destiny still awaited her.

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