THE GOLDEN YEAR AND
THE SORCERESS
In memory of my mother and my wonderful loving father...
Thank you for always being there.
Copyright © 2018 Isabella Grace Wright Hardiman
All rights reserved.
“Once someone's hurt you, it is harder to relax around them, harder to think of them as safe to love. …”
Holly Black
The Golden Year- The Sorceress
Prologue- The prophecy
No one can choose their destiny, but nobody can escape it either...
In a time of myth and magic, nine ancient mighty kingdoms are at war from as far as the inscriptions go back and stories are told. With enough in this realm for everyone's needs but not enough for everyone's greed. Aeons ago a young king of the Infernum was cursed by one of the original enchanters on her final dying breath. The king was cursed alongside with his entire dynasty. Misfortune will befall whoever would cross his past. The king became the definition of the destruction of all life, emerging to the world from the shadows to murder men, women, and children alike. He turned his back on his true humanity. The kingdom fell into darkness and caused many to flee in fear. The once-powerful sorcerer became a ferocious beast that would rattle the fate of the kingdoms. He inevitably claimed his claim to the entire realm above all other dynasties. Shattering the bonds held within one another. Claims and alliances were drawn as each kingdom raised armies against one another. From here they went to war, brother and brother. The fate of the realm was changed forever. The king of Infernum's need for power was never satisfied, his need for dominance and destruction led to the fall of neighbouring kingdoms.
One after another, the kingdoms began to fall into the clutches of darkness. Newyth, Drelia, Thantis, Rumore are the last kingdoms that stand against the darkness.
There is a prophecy written since the dawn of time: only two young people will decide whether the darkness succeeds or fails. It rests on them to seal the fate of the world.
One of the chosen ones goes by the name of Leila of Bourdet. A girl who is not afraid to say what she thinks; who can hold her own and does not play it safe. She appeared nothing more than a peasant from the outside. But from the moment she was born powerful magic was inside of her. The magic is just waiting to emerge and it is only a matter of time until it is unleashed.
In case you're looking for a happy beginning, then you are in the wrong place and I advise you to close this book now. But if by the slightest chance you are brave enough to carry on reading, I wish you the best of luck. Do not say I did not warn you.
Her past is shadowed by misfortune, fires, unsavoury characters, evil sorcerers, dark magical creatures, and all. Leila spent most of her life alone, she woke up every morning with no idea of who she is and unaware of what greatness awaits her. She has spent her entire life as an orphan in the kingdom of Rumore.
Rumore is one of the most powerful kingdoms out of the nine, ruled by a king called Isaac Da Angelo. Rumore is filled with life, magical creatures, joy, witches, and wizards. Nevertheless, not all sorcerers are good. Many years ago, a violent war broke out between Rumor and Tenebris. It devastated the lands and killed thousands of people but in the end, Tenebris was defeated, abandoned, and left to rot. The legends say that the land is cursed and haunted by the fallen king, the Dark One.
Leila was sixteen and soon it would be her turn to serve. She would have to leave, what little she had, behind; in search of a new, even better life.
Chapter One- The Golden Year
Under normal circumstances I had no problem speaking my mind, however, with a deadly, magical blade pointed at my temple, I had to keep my thoughts to myself. One swipe and I would be dead. One flicker of his wrist and it would all be over. I was defenceless.
I stood on the edge of a cliff. I peer over to see the waves crashing on the rocks below. But if I do not watch my step, I could fall right off the steep, sheer rock face. The grey gloomy clouds were quickly becoming dark. I admire the wild ocean, its waves rolling and reeling, topped with white spume. It was a dark blue surging giant that crashed into the jagged rocks below. The thunder rumbled overhead and shook me thru and thru. A storm was brewing.
"We are taking you to the Dark Lord." The malevolent creatures had hunted me down, captured me, and trapped me here. There was only one thing to do and I did not know whether I would survive it or not. But it was my only chance of escape.
I will admit, I fear death. I am terrified of it. But what scares me far more is my fear of living. The fear of living a life without him.
Is it not twisted how our fate lies in the hands of the things we love -or that love us- and sometimes the things we love lead us to our ultimate self-destruction? Self-destruction is such a beautiful but deadly thing.
My destruction began with lies and secrets. The world is filled with lies and secrets; I suppose I should not have been surprised when one attacked me. The truth is that everyone has dirty little secrets but you will never guess mine.
"I rather die," I whispered and leapt off the cliff face, falling thousands of meters at a time and crashed into the icy, seawater.
Life had not always been like this for me. The adventure all started when I went to work at the castle, which seemed like a very long time ago...
"You are here for the 'golden year'?" The plump, red-haired woman addressed as Mrs Harrison questioned. I nodded. The golden year was a law ordering that citizens of age: sixteen, served the castle for a minimum of one year.
I thought it was an irrational law. Why should we give up one year of our lives to serve? Where was the freedom? It was like we were slaves and I hated the nobles for it. Their arrogant ways and the way they treated people made me sick. Where I was born and where I come from does not define me.
Most girls though, thought it was an honour to serve. They worshipped the king, the nobles, and most importantly the prince. They prepared their entire lives for this very moment. Each of them trained from birth to charm the eligible prince. Girls of this Kingdom and others travelled far and wide to see him. They adored him.
It was safe to say I was not one of these girls. I hoped I would never lay eyes on such an arrogant noble.
Today was my sixteenth birthday. I still did not believe it. The time had passed so quickly. It seemed only yesterday when I was playing in the cornfields with the twins from my orphanage. I was far away from home now. The hectic, bustling, crammed city surrounded me now.
Mrs Harrison frowned. "Well, I suppose you will." She sighed. I followed her through the castle archway, the drawbridge was lowered. We crossed over the moat. The high brick walls surrounded me; they seemed thousands of meters high, unreachable. The handpicked, white stone covered the castle from the walls to the towers. The beautiful deep blue-tiled roof made it seem even more elegant.
The small windows had matching blue flowers for the decor. Rumore's most appreciated architects had designed it. No expense had been spared. It was by far one of the biggest wonders of the world. The gardens were said to be beyond beauty. "You're not what we were expecting but you will do." She moaned. I wanted to say 'I would leave if that were what she wanted.' Serving at the castle for one entire year was not my cup of tea.
The stone patched entrance, designed to resemble a courtyard, was filled with anxious servants. Everyone one of them hurried along; keeping to themselves. Not even one, daring to draw attention to themselves.
The square had the most impressive twisting archways and flying buttresses. The detail in the stonework was incredible with unimaginable carving designs. The sound of constant footsteps echoed. At the end of the entrance were wide, white marble steps that l
ed to a pair of handcrafted, wooden double doors- the main entrance. Guards strode up and down in their uniforms.
Knights strode with their heads high. It was a jousting season. The King had gathered Knights from all corners to join in the celebration. Numerous flags and crests hung on display, for everyone to see. Nobles always had to show off, didn't they? We headed through a servant side entrance.
"I will take you to see your mistress," She explained. I gulped. I was going to be assigned a lover. Nobody wanted to have a master, it was dangerous. If you upset them the consequences were unthinkable. I always had the worse luck, didn't I?
We entered and I noticed out of the corner of my eye an expensively dressed stranger.
"Your majesty," Mrs Harrison bowed, I copied. Mrs Harrison was without a doubt more cautious now. She avoided eye contact with the stranger and looked as if she was treading on eggshells. When I raised my head I saw a small girl, no older than seven-years-old. She had rosy cheeks, pale skin, and long, blond-haired person, curly hair. She wore a violet dress made of the finest silk. Her hair was braided with pearls. "This is your maid."
To my surprise, the little girl came closer. She stood inches away from my face. "She is pretty but she cannot go to joust like that. I will not have it. Bring her clothes, a dress." She ordered. Mrs Harrison left hastily. I stared down at my dirty, worn down clothes. Who was this powerful girl?
"I'm Caroline da Angelo." She was the princess. She was royalty.
"Leila of Bourdet. It is a pleasure to meet you." I smiled.
"You don't have to be formal with me," she whispered, "only in public." She giggled. "We are going to be such friends."
The dress was soft against my skin. It had a light, sky, blue panel that traced across my front and a deeper blue towards the sides. The soft linen material brushed my heels. It was the nicest thing I owned. The princess looked up at me. "Much better." She smiled.
Was this to be my fate for the next year? To serve a seven-year-old, who could have me killed with one word? Trumpets sounded in the distance. "It's time." She shouted in excitement.
"Your highness-"
"Call me, Caroline." She insisted. I placed the silk headrest on her fragile head.
"Have you ever been to a tournament?" She asked in a sweet voice.
"I haven't," I admitted.
"You are going to love it!" She squealed. "Everyone does!" We headed down the maze of hallways, passing centuries of fine art, sculptures, and tapestries. Even the light fixtures were impressive with their silver engravings. It was far too easy to get completely captured into the world of the wealthy with luxuries I had not even dreamed of.
We walked out the side exit which opened into the jousting grounds. The sun was beating down on the land powerfully. Hundreds of breathtaking, saddled stallions were lined up, their velvety coat shining under the beams of light. Bright colourful banners hung from several posts. The Cascades of colour hung in all different directions. The blue and white royal crest hung from all angles. Colourful striped tents were set up towards the back. The crowd waved bright colourful flags in the stands below.
I noticed how Caroline smiled in that innocent schoolchild way, her rosy cheeks shining in the light. We headed towards the higher wooden stands reserved for the upper class and royals. I made sure she was seated before I turned to exit. I found a spot along the sidelines. I noticed several of the guests casting me dirty looks. I ignored them.
The second chorus of trumpets sounded and the King, Isaac da Angelo, entered. He was in his late fifties. He did not smile, his face was hard and his eyes cold. He had a large scar that cut across his eyebrow, making his icy exterior even more intimidating.
Everyone began applauding at the sight of him. He looked around at his loyal subjects and headed towards the stands. Then he sat beside Caroline in a red velvet throne under the blue marque.
"Let the games begin!" He announced. Drums sounded and two horses were lined up on either end of the course. The only thing separating them was a long wooden barrier. Two Knights stepped out from the shadows in pristine, spotless, iron plate armour. One was fully dressed; the other only needed his helmet.
He had thick locks of brown hair and eyes bluer than the sky. His angelic face looked unreal. His jaw was so sharp it could cut ice. He slipped on his helmet. They mounted their horses and held the lances firmly in their grip. The steady beat of the drum filled the air.
There are moments in life when everything stops. When time itself freezes. This was one of those moments. The heavy breaths of horses, the pulse of the riders, and the anticipation of the audience set the atmosphere. There was a bang and my heart stopped.
The riders sped towards one another. The black stallions' powerful legs raced forward, sending clouds of sand behind them. They picked up speed as they drew closer. My pulse sped up. The sound of hooves sinking in sand-filled my ears.
As they approached one another, the blue-eyed knight, struck his lance into the chest of the opposing knight. Iron clashed against the wood. The lance broke into a million pieces. Splinters and fragments of wood sliced through the air like knives. A powerful clatter bombarded my ears. The audience let out a roar of praise. I cringed.
The opposing knight collapsed and fell to the ground. Bloodstained his clothes like ink. The red liquid oozed out of him like tree sap and dripped onto the golden sand that cradled his body. He yelled out in pain and rolled in agony. Meanwhile, the blue-eyed knight rode around the track victoriously. Everyone applauded and cheered, including the medical team.
The other knight lay still on the sand... too still. I did not even realize what I was doing before it was too late. I crossed the field toward the body. I heard people tell me to stop. I did not. I crouched beside the body, my hands shaking. I had to help him. It was at that moment that I realized that he was dead. His cloudy eyes were lifeless.
"Miss, are you okay?" I turned to find the diamond eyed knight had dismounted and stood behind me. His wispy hair blowing in the breeze. Everyone was watching me. I must have broken over five hundred rules by racing onto the pitch. I wanted to disappear, vanish into thin air. I looked away from him, then down at my blood-covered hands. I felt nauseous. I closed my eyes as I got to my feet. "He's dead." Horror filled me as I stood over the corpse.
How could they do this? How could they stand for such a stupid game? Whatever happened to honour and sacrifice? How many lives could this man have saved if he had not competed? Now, I suppose that it did not matter because he was dead.
I hated the nobles and everything they had become. I hated how they abandoned their people to play this sport. I hated how they thought they were above us. I hated how they acted like spoilt brats, riding around on their pedigree horses. Half of them did not even know the true meaning of honour or sacrifice. I had hated the nobles for a very long time, ever since that day, that cursed day.
"You are a cold-blooded, savage, evil murderer!" I glared at the devastatingly gorgeous figure. And so damn handsome.
"As opposed to a peaceful, kind, and loving murderer." He snapped back clearly agitated. I was not permitted to speak to him like this. He was a knight. He was powerful and I was a nobody. He had the birthright to respect and the world we lived in worshipped him. The laws demanded me to address him with the utmost respect but I did not care.
I have never been one to follow the rules. I should hold my tongue if I know what's good for me but I do not. It is because I felt as if I did not have anything to lose...I had lost everything and I was stuck here after all. Or just maybe, it was that look in his eyes -that amusement that flashed in and out of his expression. It hid just underneath the surface of his outrage but it was there-it edged me on. I could not even stop myself.
"He knew the rules and the risks." The knight sighed whilst glancing at the body briefly. I saw something flicker in and out of features. "Every knight knows the risks, this is not something to get worked up about. I would have thought a knight would have mentioned it to an elig
ible, young maiden to woo you."
"Excuse me. Firstly, as if I would let an arrogant knight attempt to woo me." I cringed in disgust. "Secondly, you're the first I have had a proper conversation with."
"Oh. I am your first. I see. What a shame."
"Yes, it is a shame that I am wasting my time with you," I muttered only loud enough for him to hear.
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