Royalty Fantasy Boxset: Ember Dragon Daughter & Hasley Fateless (Fated Tales Series 1 & 1.5) (The Fated Tales Series: YA Royalty Fantasy)

by Rebecca K. Sampson

  They were only two days away from Borderain. Their next destination would come with some answers. It had to.

  In their room that day, Ember lay in bed staring up at the ceiling.

  “Are you worried?” She asked Noor, "about what we will find in Borderain with Amic?"

  “Not at all,” he replied, jumping into bed beside her.

  “Why do you say that?” Ember asked.

  “If we have a keyholder that is also a scribemaster, I can't imagine the resources and people he must have seen and interacted with. If he invited us to come, it must be for a good reason."

  “That is a lot to assume from someone we know so little about.” She stood up and adjusted her shirt. They had only met him for the briefest of moments at her debut ball. Today, she had decided against the usual skirts and dresses in favor of the outfit she wore the first day she met the resistance in Azororion. All black, scales covered, fitted pants and long boots. She even braided the scarf into her hair, which had grown close to three inches since her ball the month and a half prior.

  “Don't you just love my observation skills?” Noor said with a grin. Ember stood up beside him, boots on and ready for their night. He didn't dress in purple, instead also choosing casual clothes. Other than his Knight pin, he didn't wear his guard uniform much. Not after those initial few days. As a Knight, he didn't need to.

  “Really? You think you are observant? And what do you observe about me?” Ember flirted with him, wiggling his hips between her hands as she attempted to pass him. He didn’t let her, grabbing her hand and twirling her to him like on the night of the Aaleian ball.

  “I noticed your lips,” he said pecking them lightly. She smiled against him and giggled.

  “I observed your neck,” he whispered as he trailed lingering kisses down her neck. His arms looped behind her back. Ember’s breaths became rapid.

  “I see your kindness,” Noor whispered in her ear.

  “I found a queen trapped in your mind,” he said with a searching look at her eyes.

  “You’ll have to show me where because that part of me sounds very foreign,” Ember said back. She let go of him, snapping the moment closed behind her. “Let’s go,” Ember told him, off to another late night visit.

  Part Four

  Embrence Destroyer

  Twenty-Six

  Ripped Apart

  “This man is not trustworthy, Fireheart. Don’t believe a word,” Oma said as they departed the cabin together the next day. Oma’s lips formed a line, the creases lining her face more apparent in the afternoon sun. Ember nodded as if she agreed, but her head spun at what awaited her.

  Finally, they were to see Amic Keyholder, though now they knew his true name to be Amic Scribemaster. The first time they met had been the day of her debut ball, and to be frank, Ember barely remembered the brief conversation amidst all the events of that night. Now they met again, his letter to Jardano Scribemaster burning a hole in Noor’s pocket.

  Noor dismounted Carmain and stepped into stride beside Ember and Oma. Ember threw a glare his way for convincing her to ride with her grandmother instead of with him.

  “She needs to believe we are on her side,” Noor said the night before. She never wanted to be near her, but she knew his point. She couldn’t completely separate herself from her, not yet.

  They approached a tall tan building with a domed roof. Unlike the usual grey of their structures, this province meeting center was painstakingly painted. It was a lot harder to paint peridoone stone, requiring many layers to adhere to any color. The cost of the effort was not lost on their traveling party as they took in the sight.

  Ember remembered Borderain from her childhood. With its proximity to Cruelindime, Ember and her moms didn't stay long. Regardless, the tone of the province stayed with her.

  There was a stronger military presence in Borderain, as with the other bordering provinces. This province held more diverse structures and decor than others, however. Ember was glad to explore it now, despite the dire occasion. With no leads on Hasley after a week of travel, Ember felt her thin layer of morale fall away with each passing hour.

  “Hello there!” Came the loud and magnanimous voice of Amic, he strode out of their large open doors and bounced down the steps. Several companions trailed him, all seemingly as friendly with open smiles.

  Amic walked straight towards them, his grey long-sleeve shirt was damp with a sheen of sweat but he paid no mind and bowed low. The rose twinge to his blonde hair shone brightly.

  “A pleasure to see you again, Omanox Dragon Matron, and also you, Embrence Dragon Daughter. I hope your short months as Dragon Daughter have gone smoothly.”

  Images flashed across Ember's mind: the unnamed fateless man, tears in the dark, the sound of Oma’s betrayal, Amic’s blood-stained cloak. Ember focused on the feel of Noor’s presence beside her, forcing the thoughts down.

  “Call me Ember,” she said with a smile and gestured to Noor. “My pair, Noorworth Knight.”

  “Of course! Noorworth Knight, it is a pleasure to see you again. Some of our guards trained with you. They have regaled us with stories of your kindness from the second you were announced. They have yet to stop!” Amic winked at him before bowing again. A few of the surrounding guards chuckled, and Noor waved to a few of them.

  “Amic, may we go inside?” Oma asked by way of greeting.

  “Of course, of course, my apologies,” he nodded and led them towards the steps. “Refreshments, Sandra!” he called to a tall woman in red. She promptly turned and walked ahead of them.

  The inside of the keyholder’s home looked just as splendid. Columns bordered the room and small blue tiles covered the floor. In the center of the main room was a long table filled with food of various colors and sizes. Despite the elegant table settings of the clear table of the castle, it typically did not hold as much food. This setting was warmer and friendlier than she was used to. Ember couldn’t help but smile when looking around.

  There were no chairs, sofas, or recliners. Just a table, food, and citizens standing and speaking to each other as if they were the best of friends. The guests turned at their entrance, clapping in unison in greeting.

  On either side of the room were two doors, one in which Sandra re-emerged with a tray of red liquid. She passed glasses to them and then the other guests, winking at Ember as she passed.

  “A toast,” Amic said with a raised glass, “to the future of Ashkadance!”

  “To Ashkadance,” Ember and Noor repeated.

  “You have a beautiful home,” Noor said as they walked out into the gardens.

  “We at Borderain work hard to bring in the culture of the other kingdoms,” Amic replied.

  “How so?” Ember asked.

  “See there,” Amic gestured to the clay pots the marked the entrance to the intended trail. “They were based on designs from the capital of Grydagia.”

  The silhouette was long and uneven, mimicking two parallel wavy lines. Amic pointed out several other unique additives to his province as they walked. With each one, there was beauty and meaning. If they weren’t here to address his mysterious letter, she would have turned around to invite Ahnika to study each piece. Little was discussed about Grydagia and Faeinto, Ember felt like she knew almost nothing of their culture and lives. Other than the occasional slur, she rarely heard about them in polite society.

  “Why go through those efforts?” Ember asked curiously. She had always known that there was something special about Borderain from the first moment she stepped into the province as a child. It had a look and feel that was of comfort and color. A far cry from the grey and easier-to-manage appearance of many of the other provinces. For someone that cared enough to bring this to them, what did Amic think of the wall that kept back these cultures? It must not be a positive association as a secret scribemaster.

  They’d soon find out, Ember realized, as the garden began to weave towards the outskirts of the province. Why build his home so close to the wa
ll? Wouldn’t the center of the province make more sense for his goals?

  “Why did you call us to you, Amic Scribemaster?” she asked, addressing him by his true name for the first time. Who knew how long Omanox would be distracted. The local theater company said their performance was inspired by her rule, something she knew Amic must have planned. It worked to get them away, but they had been walking for fifteen minutes already.

  “Because of her,” Amic said and gestured right off the path. The trees began to grow denser.

  Noor stepped off the path curiously, walking ahead of his pair and into the shaded trees. Ember followed behind, glancing at Amic again. Were they meeting a new rebel?

  Ember stopped mid-step, her foot hanging in the air before her instincts dropped the heel. Joy exploded inside her, and her whole body filled with warmth.

  Despite her blue messy hair and frail body, a spark of Ember’s best friend was before her. Hasley smiled briefly before breaking into wailing sobs. Haunted eyes looked back at Ember.

  “Hasley,” Ember called. She ran to the quivering form of her best friend. They collapsed together onto the floor, arms wrapped around each other.

  “I’m sorry,” Hasley said between hacking breaths. She buried her face into Ember's neck.

  “Why would you be sorry, Hasley? You have done nothing wrong. I’m the one that is sorry. I failed you,” Ember whispered. She held tighter to her best friend, brushing her dirty hair with soft fingers.

  “I knew. I knew I was sick. I couldn’t tell you. I.. I…” Her words fumbled, and Hasley pushed away. Her legs stumbled backward in the grass, dirt collecting on the few clean spots of Hasley’s legs.

  “It’ll be okay,” Noor said. He inched closer to them. “We can help you.”

  “If we take down the wall, we can,” Amic added. Ember turned, forgetting he was even there. “What do you mean?”

  “Her pair is outside that wall, right now,” Amic said matter-of-factly. He pointed to the spot right behind Hasley's head, as if her pair was actually there this moment.

  Ember felt lightning strike her heart. She jumped to her feet.

  “I’m sorry,” Hasley whispered again, this time to herself. She pushed her back flat to the wall.

  “How can you know that?” Noor asked, his hand hovered nervously near the knife on his hip.

  A wraith flew down from above their heads. It landed onto Hasley’s shoulder. He nuzzled her bowed head like a pet, scales meeting blue hair, and Hasley looked to him with a smile. She reached for his leg to take the letter tied and opened the small scroll of paper greedily. Her skin seemed to brighten from the inside out as she read. A soft yellow cast seeming to bring her to life as she absorbed the words.

  “What’s happening?” Ember whispered. Amic pushed closer to them, a hand resting on each Ember and Noor’s back. It resembled... she couldn't even think it. What does this mean?

  “Come closer and see,” he said. The three sat before Hasley on the ground. She fished for a pencil from her dress pocket and began writing on the opposite side of the letter. The wraith hopped down, his long thin tail brushing the grass. As Hasley finished her scribbles, he stuck out his leg and accepted the letter. The wraith readjusted his stance and with a proud chirp flew fast into the sky. They tilted their heads up to watch the small dragon disappeared over the wall.

  “But wraiths can’t fly over the wall to deliver letters,” Noor said in disbelief. They were told this fact their whole life.

  “Oh, but they can,” Amic said. “You just have to have someone at exactly that spot on the other side waiting. If no one is there, they circle back. The water is too far for them to cross, but they can visit the eroding coast and old docs on the other side if they have a reason to.”

  “Someone is out there,” Ember echoed his meaning, staring at Hasley. Her friend’s face was upturned, eyes bright and smile wide with the golden glow. But the more seconds that passed, the more the shadow of the Fating faded. Hasley’s skin lost its glow quickly, and her smile turned to a frown. As if the light never appeared to her, tears welled up, and she looked back to the ground. Her long arms wrapped around her legs, and she lay her head down on her knees.

  “Who are you speaking to, Hasley?” Ember asked quietly, scared to disturb her.

  “Arsenio,” Hasley said between tears, her body quivered at the mention of his name.

  “My son,” Amic answered back. “She and my son experience bursts of the fating every day… Then they feel it ripped from them.”

  “Help us,” Hasley whispered.

  Twenty-Seven

  Strange

  Eleven Years Ago

  “Hi, my name is Hasley,” a small voice said behind her. Ember froze, wringing her hands as she turned to the voice.

  “Hi,” Ember squeaked. She looked around her, making sure Hasley was speaking to her. Ember’s heart pounded in her small body, unsure how to react when spoken to. If her moms were here, they’d say hello back and usher her away. They were good at that kind of thing, being polite but not welcoming. Ember had yet to learn that skill. At seven, she only felt fear. Friendship was forbidden.

  “You are new, right?” The blue-haired and sweet-faced child asked. Hasley bounced side to side, her bright yellow dress swaying like a bell. Ember looked around again at the playground of the small school in Firetop.

  “Yes,” she answered softly and immediately covered her mouth. She was not supposed to speak to her. Mother Julimore would be mad. Ember yelled afterward, “don’t talk to me” and turned around. She pretended to go back to her task, organizing a few rocks before her by size and shape, while the sounds of laughter flittered by from the swing set.

  “But I like to talk,” Hasley protested, a pout crossing her lips.

  “Well, I’m not supposed to,” Ember grumbled, shifting one rock to the third position.

  “Not supposed to talk or not supposed to like to talk?” she asked with a plop, sand crashing over some of Ember’s rocks as Hasley sat down beside her.

  “Both,” Ember admitted, wondering why that was.

  “Aren’t you hot in that shirt?” Hasley asked, pointing at Ember’s long-sleeves and rounded collar.

  “Yes,” she replied shortly, a weary excitement to have spoken for this long.

  “You’re strange,” Hasley said and stood again, The girl walked off, and Ember felt hot tears build in her eyes. The threatened to spill as the heat rose through her chest and up her neck. She was embarrassed to have been such poor company and ashamed to have even entertained speaking to Hasley for a few moments. She scratched her chest, feeling a prick of pain on her scales beneath it. The rocks on the ground before her became unfocused as the gush of tears grew.

  “Here you go,” the same kind voice said. Hasley’s black shoes walked into her line of sight. Ember looked up to see her holding an arm-full of rocks of many sizes. Hasley sat next to her again, displaying her bounty from other areas of the park.

  Ember’s tears came down harder. She covered her face and the blanket of her long hair became a curtain around her.

  “Why are you crying?” Hasley asked, her face turning to the side in question.

  “You came back even though I’m strange,” Ember spoke between her hands.

  “Don’t be silly, it’s good to be strange. Let’s play with rocks now. Though I don’t know how to play,” Hasley replied honestly, putting her head on her hands to study Ember’s pile.

  “I don’t get it,” she said as she stared at them. Ember said, “I don’t either. I just like them.”

  “You are very strange,” Hasley amended with a smile.

  They had two months together before they moved on to their next home, Ember not given the chance to say goodbye to her secret friend. When they met again, Ember’s family was gone.

  “Hi, I’m Ember,” she said when walking down the market on her first day back at Firetop.

  “I remember,” Hasley replied and pulled her into a hug.

  Twenty
-Eight

  Free

  “I don’t know what to do,” Ember said to herself as she stared at her friend. Noor reached out to squeeze her hand.

  “I do. Follow me,” Amic said and stood.

  “We can’t leave Hasley here.”

  “She has been in these woods for weeks now,” Amic said. He seemed rushed, already a few feet away from them. As he paused, his feet shuffled from side to side.

  “We’ll come right back, Ember,” Noor said as he stood. He too felt the sense of urgency. How much time had passed already?

  “Don’t leave, Hasley. I’ll be right back, okay?” Ember asked, stroking blue hair from Hasley tear-stained face.

  Hasley nodded without moving her head from her knees. She stared at the earth.

  Reluctantly, Ember stood up to follow. Whether they could make it back immediately or tonight when Oma went to sleep, they would do it. She would not leave Hasley here to suffer alone. She could feel her heart tearing as she walked farther and farther from her friend. She just found her, how could she leave? Noor pushed her on. He was right, they couldn’t be caught with Hasley. Who knew what Oma would do if she knew. It was better to come back when she knew there was more time.

  “Where are we going?” Noor asked Amic as they followed him out of the trees.

  “You’ll see,” he commented vaguely.

  “No,” Ember spat angrily.

  Noor and Amic stopped and turned. They now stood at the edge of the trees, Hasley no longer in view.

  “You called us here without saying why. If I had known Hasley was here, we’d have come straight away. I don’t appreciate the deception and will not tolerate it. If there is something that can help her, say it. I will not be led blindly,” Ember said. She crossed her arms and stared into Amic Scribemaster’s brown eyes. He clicked his tongue and sighed.