The Shadow Curse

by Kala Merseal

  Nyphelia shook Arlow’s arm. “Since it’s not expected for you to train today…let us go to the springs.”

  Arlow eyed Bieva and after she gave a shrug, he and Nyphelia rushed out of the room.

  “Don’t expect them back until late tonight,” Max muttered as they both eyed the couple’s retreat.

  “What else have I missed?” Raethin rubbed his temples.

  “We’re all training with the druids in one way or another. Arlow and I are training with the warriors. Nyphelia is training with the alchemists. Ara is training with the elders.”

  “And what are they teaching her?” He dropped his hand and eyed Max.

  “Magick.” Max grinned when he saw Raethin’s surprise. “She said that her magick was blocked and somehow they removed it. She was out for about a day afterward but since then she has been slowly progressing. She says she feels like a child learning magick for the first time.” Max rubbed his jaw as he said hesitantly,

  “Interestingly enough, when they unblocked her magick was the same day they removed your curse. Or whatever it was they did to you.”

  “Strange.” Raethin scrutinized the correlation but dropped the topic. He would ask more of the elders and this

  Cirith when it came time.

  When midday approached, Raethin heard Ara stir upstairs in her room. Soon after, she rushed downstairs. She brushed her fingers through her hair as she entered the dining hall, then halted when she caught Max and Raethin waiting for her at the table.

  “So, it wasn’t a dream,” Ara muttered under her breath as she approached them. When she met Raethin’s eyes, she froze.

  “They’re gold.” When Raethin nodded, she continued,

  “Like Cirith’s.”

  “As it appears,” Raethin said with a faint smile.

  Ara sat down, absentmindedly eying Raethin as the druids brought her a breakfast plate.

  “How are you feeling?” She asked.

  “Never better.”

  “A greater question is,” Max said as Ara picked through her food, “How are you feeling?”

  “Better. Haven’t slept this late in a long time.” Ara glanced at Raethin again then blushed when he caught her gaze. “Have you met with others yet?”

  “Yes. Arlow and Nyphelia left a little while ago,”

  Raethin said. “Once you’re finished eating, we’re expected to meet with the elders and Cirith.”

  “Just us?”

  When Raethin nodded, Ara dropped her gaze to her food and frowned. “Why just us?”

  “You’re the princess and he’s the highest-ranking officer of what remains of your army, Ara,” Max laughed.

  “There is nothing I or the others have to do with the elders.”

  “Well—” She cut her words off and shook her head.

  “Never mind.”

  “You’re overthinking.” Max patted her shoulder. “They want to catch him up on circumstances and see how he’s feeling.”

  Ara scowled, pursing her lips as she pushed the plate away.

  “Fine, then let’s go.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  When Ara woke after her deep slumber, she vaguely thought that that night was a dream. She lumbered out of bed and when remembering what happened, she rushed downstairs to confirm. Noises brought her to the dining hall where she found Max chatting with Raethin. Her heart thundered at the sight of him. She took deep breaths as she approached, halting only when he caught her gaze. That night it was too dark for her to see so she couldn’t tell at the time that his eyes were changed. Gone was vibrant forest tint and in its place was a blazoned gold, the same shade as Cirith’s.

  Being so close to him, now awake, was surreal, even as they made their way to the elders’ council chamber. Bieva took them on a short tour, running through the fortress much quicker than when she and the others received the tour. When they entered the main keep building, Bieva stopped at the foyer and waved them off.

  So quickly Ara and Raethin were alone again. Her heart continued to jump up into her throat as they walked up the stairs. She wanted to tell him all the things she thought during his time asleep but found her words caught in her throat.

  Raethin caught her glance as they rounded a corner up the hall.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing—” Ara stammered then scowled. “Well, it’s not nothing. But I—well, it’s not the time.” They approached the council chamber doors and the elders’ mutters grew louder.

  Before Ara could scuttle into the chamber, Raethin touched her shoulder.

  Ara cut him off. “I’ll tell you later — the elders are waiting on us.”

  Raethin nodded as she rushed into the room, following.

  Three druids sat the round table with a human. Their heads leaned closely together as they argued in hushed tones. When he and Ara entered the room, their voices ceased, and they snapped their heads up to study the two.

  The human watched in a relaxed position in the chair at the table’s apex, his arms crossed. Raethin turned to meet his eyes and was surprised to catch gold staring back at him.

  So, this human was Cirith, the Great Spirit of the Rakevan people. He apprehensively studied the princess and her commander as they stood inside the threshold.

  “Come and sit,” Cirith said, his tone uninterested.

  Ara rushed to sit down. Raethin followed, seating directly across from Cirith.

  “I can tell you know by now who I am.” Cirith leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. “The elders and I are happy that you’ve finally waken and look forward to hear about what happened.”

  “You know what has happened,” Raethin said. “We were attacked, I was nearly killed, and by your kindness you saved me.”

  “There is more. You were out for weeks and it was by our magick that you stayed asleep.” Cirith flicked a hand at him and gestured to the elders. “But what we are more interested in is what you were doing within that sleep. Tell us all that you experienced.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  Ara glanced at him sharply and paused when he avoided her gaze.

  “Is it because of her?” Cirith asked pointedly. “She saw you as you were and knows you endured torture.”

  Raethin’s eyes shifted as he remembered. Ara stiffened, her stomach rolling with anticipation.

  Still, Cirith pressed on. “We can speak privately then. But you should not coddle the princess as you have. You two have much to endure together and distrusting her strength may be your downfall.”

  Raethin crossed his arms, unresponsive to Cirith’s goading.

  “Fine, have it your way.”

  Cirith gestured to the lily-eyed elder. She leaned forward, shoving a bunch of papers toward Raethin and Ara.

  “My name is Misandreas—just so you know. These are the scouting reports for the last two weeks. With it, you should see that the demons are progressively finding ways to break down our ward.” Misandreas halted and backtracked.

  “Ah, I forget, you don’t know much about this place—”

  “I saw the ward when coming over,” Raethin said. “It’s fascinating and complex.”

  “You can thank our goddess and her servant for that.” Misandreas flashed an amused look at Cirith before continuing. “But because of its complexity, there is not much that can tear it down. There are a few secrets about that, but we cannot imagine that the demons will figure that out. They have however found ways to diminish its strength in little ways but no matter what they’ve done, it hasn’t fallen.”

  She paused, allowing Raethin and Ara to skim the reports, then continued when they looked at her in confusion.

  “You must understand,” Misandreas deliberated. “Their efforts in the beginning were annoying at best. Then, as you will see in their pattern, they went silent after Cirith removed our druids from the outside of our fortress. But the guards surveying from the inside of the ward have now reported that dozens of demons roam the Forest at night. They have gotten with
in yards of the ward’s edge without knowing it. They are closing in and without having an advantage over the demons, we may find that one of the weaknesses of the ward are revealed.”

  “We must find an advantage. Soon,” another elder stated, his scowl deepening when Raethin turned to him.

  “You were tainted—and against my opinion, they saved you.

  You managed to survive but you are the only insight into the demons that we have.”

  “You think that I communed with them during my coma?” Raethin shoved the papers back to them and crossed his arms. “I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you, elders. Nothing that happened revealed their goal to break the ward.”

  “And yet you won’t tell us what you experienced.” The scowling elder slammed his palms on the table and leaned forward. “How suspicious.”

  “Did you really think that I would divulge every grotesque second of my time in the Void? Especially with the princess here?” Raethin ignored Ara’s stare as he glared at the druids. His hard look twisted to Cirith as he said, “I will not be a spectacle, nor will I give more remorse to Ara.”

  “You were in the Void.” The elder lurched to his feet, his volume increasing as he continued, “You dare deny our commands. We have provided your new life once more, you ungrateful—”

  “Solas.” Cirith silenced the scowling elder. With one looming look toward him, Solas sat down and crossed his arms, glaring.

  “You are silenced by a human, druid,” Raethin said. “A Great Spirit holds more sway than race. Which means you do not hold any command over me.”

  They all stilled.

  Cirith and Raethin eyed one another, the answer plain as day.

  “Yes.” Cirith nodded once. “You are correct.”

  “I know the theory, Cirith,” Raethin said. “But what I don’t understand is how you could’ve done it. I thought a god had to command it?”

  “A god did.” Cirith rubbed his neck, sighing as he deliberated his next words.

  “Gods are in league with one another,” Cirith said. “As far as who had agreed to send their servant, I don’t know. But my goddess commanded, after weeks of failing at every other attempt, to try it.”

  “Try what?” Ara cut in, her voice shaking. “I don’t understand."

  “Just when I was about to break, a being came to me in shining light. He said he was a servant of a god—one that he would not provide the name of. But for me to survive, we struck a deal.” Raethin paused, watching as Ara soaked in his words.

  “After, when I came to, I realized what had happened,” he said. “Someone had summoned a Great Spirit and in desperation, I accepted the covenant.”

  “So…you’re—”

  “Like Cirith.”

  “Exactly,” Cirith said. “If it were not for this, you would’ve turned. We would have had to kill you and Ara would have never trusted us again. It was necessary.”

  “You should see it as a blessing, really,” Misandreas said, her voice tentative. “For now, you are stronger. You can protect Ara better than you had before.”

  Raethin’s eyes flashed as he cut his gaze to the lily-eyed elder.

  “So now you know why we are involving you,” she continued. “Now, will we all play nice?”

  Ara nodded as the others said nothing. Tension still hung thickly in the air. Misandreas sighed and continued.

  “We can stay within the ward for decades and even centuries if we must,” she said. “But there will come a time that the demons may find a way to break down the ward. We cannot stay defensive forever. Especially since we are housing the Heir—”

  “Heir?” Raethin interrupted, brow furrowing.

  The elders cut their stare to Ara then met each other’s concerning gaze.

  “Ara,” Cirith said. “She is the last of the Zypherus, the heir to the Therilean throne. Though the kingdom is ruined, she still holds that title.”

  Raethin caught Ara’s questioning look.

  First, the Crown. Second, the Heir. Third, the Priest.

  “Do you know why they are so adamantly trying to break the ward?”

  Suspicion crossed the elders’ faces as Cirith’s expression turned to stone.

  “You do know, Great Spirit,” Raethin hissed. “First, the Crown. Second, the Heir. Third, the Priest. That is what the Void called for. Do you know who the Crown is? You must if you know the Heir.”

  Cirith studied him, then turned his calculating gaze to Ara.

  “Fine,” the Guardian said. “I will tell you what I know. Elders, please leave us.”

  Hesitantly, the three druids stood and shuffled out of the room. When their footsteps and angered mutters faded, Cirith leaned forward on his elbows.

  “If you must know,” he said. “The horned Kaevari calls himself Aeskrius. He is the Void King’s champion, much like we are servants of our own gods. I imagined that he is the Crown for he has abilities on par with ours. I am not sure if that makes him an avatar.

  “If it does,” Cirith said, his tone lowering. “Then that means that he is a god of the lowest ranks. There is one weakness in the ward that has evaded others’ thoughts for centuries and it is this: the blood of a god stronger than mine can break the ward.”

  “So, our survival relies on the off-chance that this Aeskrius doesn’t think to use his own blood to break the shield?”

  “Yes.”

  Raethin scoffed, disgusted. “Then I should take Ara now and leave, before your whole fortress falls.”

  “You can’t. Demons surround our barrier. We must take them by surprise and diminish their numbers if we are to survive,” Cirith said. “And Aeskrius avoided fighting me. If we fought him together, we may be able to hold him back.”

  “And if the fortress falls apart? What then?” Raethin looked at Ara. The princess sat in silence, her arms hugging her sides as she watched their conversation play out. Terror shadowed her hollow gaze as she met his glance. His tone softened as he asked, “What do you plan to do about the Heir?”

  “The elders will take her to the temple and enclose themselves in. Rakeva will protect them.”

  Raethin sighed, his argument falling apart. There were no other options.

  “I suppose there is something you want me to do then?” Raethin prodded, turning to Cirith again.

  “You just woke up, so I imagine your Spirit is resting,” Cirith said. “But once he wakes, we must know if his god knows anything about the Void King. In the meantime, we must find a way to distract the demons and send them away from our ward. If it means that we confront the Kaevari, then we will.”

  Raethin soaked in Cirith’s words. Since waking, he had not felt any stirring deep in his consciousness nor any warmth like he had in the Void when the Spirit visited him.

  “I suppose he is asleep,” he said. “I woke up soon after he came to me and haven’t felt him since.”

  Cirith nodded. “He is recovering from the transition. It may be days to weeks before you feel anything again, but we don’t have that time. I will train you then.”

  Raethin conceded to that, going silent again as Cirith tapped his finger on the table.

  “I’ve been training for a week but it’s still not enough,” Ara said, timid. “I…I feel useless. I wish I could do more than just sit in the sanctuary.”

  “The block on your source of magical energy was strong,” Cirith said. “It is like training a child, but you must understand that it isn’t your fault. We must work with what we have, and you should know that you’ve progressed so quickly. You can defend yourself at the least now and hopefully by the time we have to take these measures, you will be strong enough.”

  Ara nodded, her shoulders slouching.

  “Ara—” Raethin paused, catching Cirith’s questioning gaze, then sighed. “We are sworn to protect. We do this with honor. You…you are the princess. You are special—you are something worth protecting. You should not feel so guilty.”

  “But if it’s true—” Her head whipped up as
tears rolled down her cheeks. Her sudden outburst of emotion took Raethin and Cirith by surprise as she sucked in a shaky breath. “If it’s true that they were after me—not because of my bloodline but because of me—then all those who died because they were in the way…their deaths are my fault.”

  “They are not your fault,” Reathin insisted. Ignoring his own mental warnings, his arm lurched out to wrap around her shoulders in comfort. She stiffened against him and stared up at him with wide, swollen eyes.

  “You did not choose then nor did you know it was happening. These demons are out to devour and destroy every life, not just the ones in the way to you.” He paused, his grip relaxing as he lost his nerve. With the princess held flush against him, Raethin could feel and hear her heart thundering in her chest. Her breaths heaved unevenly.

  He relinquished his hold, frowning at her reaction, and said, “We will avenge your people, Ara. We will avenge your father and mother and every Therilean who died at the hands of these demons. And then we will rebuild in their memory.”

  Tears fell as her fists clenched in her lap. She nodded curtly as she wiped at her face.

  “You will start training today, Raethin,” Cirith said after a moment. “Ara, you may train with Vilithian if you would like or you can take the day off like the others.”

  Ara sniffled. “I’ll train today.”

  “I would like to participate in her training,” Raethin said. “At least for a little while.”

  Cirith mulled for a moment before nodding. “Fine, then this evening we will train.”

  The Guardian gave a dismissive wave as he stood from the table and turned his back to them. Behind Cirith stood a wide threshold leading to a hallway illuminated by candlelight.

  Cirith halted then, turning as Raethin and Ara stood from the table.

  “Ara, go on ahead.” Hardened gold flashed to Raethin as Cirith swept his gaze over the pair. “I would like to discuss one last thing before we move forward.”

  Hesitantly, Ara left the chamber, her soft footsteps steadily fading within minutes.

  The two avatars appraised one another before Cirith nodded his head toward the hallway. “Follow me.”