by K.N. Lee
“Very well,” he said. “This way.”
He turned and led her into the cavern.
Inside, thirteen young men turned to stare as she entered. Her cheeks burned as their eyes lingered on her in silence.
They should have been used to her by now. She knew what they said about her when she wasn’t around. She only made it into the Elite by being favored by Zella and Alistair.
Rubbish. No one wanted to admit that she was as good—if not better—than the other recruits. When the time had come for her to pick a dragon’s egg, it had picked her.
Luna had glowed and called to her that fateful night when Wren stood before five dormant eggs on the pedestals of the Whispering Mountain.
No other dragon egg had ever done that.
She sighed and fell into line with the other Elite.
Flint walked up the alley between the two lines, his hands clasped behind his back. He wore a sage cape that was secured by two gold hooks at his shoulders. It billowed as he walked, the wind sweeping in and out from the mouth of the cavern. All eyes went to him, and Wren finally felt as though she could breathe again.
“Necro has appeared,” Flint announced, and there was a collective gust of whispers from the others. “It comes from the south, destroying all life in its path.”
“We feared this was the case,” Grand Master Ronan said, emerging from the back of the hollow room. An elder, with long white hair and thick brows over his sunken indigo eyes, he walked to them with the aid of a walking stick. “Master Alistair and I have heard reports of strange vanishings, decomposing livestock, and famines in the south long before Necro made it known that he was responsible.”
“Has anyone seen him?” Wren asked, and once again, everyone turned to her. Her eyes widened. “Apologies for interrupting, Grand Master.”
“Yes,” he said, his aged voice taking a solemn dip in volume. He reached for something in his cloak’s inner pocket and pulled free a ruby.
A sacred stone.
Wren’s brows furrowed as she stared at it.
“Is that—”
“Yes,” he said. “It is a divination stone.”
Her stomach churned. Those were given to High Clerics and Ocuras when they ascended to elder status. It was usually secured in their circlets, and served as their external life force. The fact that Grand Master Ronan now held one meant that its owner was now dead.
“It belonged to a very special cleric,” he said, and inhaled. “High Cleric, Laurel.”
She covered a gasp with hand clasped over her mouth.
High Cleric, Zella’s sister was dead, and she’d been giving her trouble with her frivolous pride.
She wept inwardly for the beautiful soul Laurel had been.
“As you can see, he is back, and he wants to destroy us all,” Grand Master Ronan said.
“Now,” Flint added. “Who’s with me in sending him back to the Abyss where he belongs?”
Wren punched the air with her fist, joining the men in their shouts of solidarity.
“We will fight,” Flint said, his eyes glowing, jaw clenched. “No matter what horrors he sends our way.”
13
Wind whipped around them as the Dragon Elite summoned their dragons in unison. With their arms outstretched, they stood in a line that faced the cliff of the mountain.
Mist left droplets of dew on Wren’s cheeks, and the cool air gushed upward from the foggy valley below. Foam rose from the depths, and the sound of the crashing waterfall drowned out the roar of the wind.
“Awaken,” they all said, and with glowing palms pointed skyward.
No matter where they were, the dragons felt the call and were returned to their eggs. Within seconds, riders were reunited with their dragons.
Dragons of different color, and size materialized before them, towering over their masters while the mountain whispered and hummed.
Luna appeared, slick with water from the falls, and bowing alongside her brothers and sisters.
“Master,” Luna said, and Wren ran her hand along the top of her head.
Each rider stepped beside their dragon, and leaped onto their backs.
“All right,” Flint said, mounting his white dragon. Ash was the biggest of them all, and wore a silver helmet over his head that showed two red eyes and sharp teeth. “Follow me to the Valley of the Saints, and we’ll ride to Saldoria.”
Wren stayed close to Flint, flying across the bright sky. In the distance, she could see where the darkness of Necro was stretching over the land in the south. It moved slowly, hopefully slow enough for them to figure out how to stop him.
“How long do you think it’ll take for him to reach The Vale?” Wren asked Flint.
He shook his head, following her gaze. “I don’t know. It could be weeks. It could be days.”
“We have to find a way to stop him.”
Flint shot her a glance over his shoulder. “Master Alister and the elders will do what it takes to keep the realm safe. We just need to see if anyone made it out of Necro’s area of effect.”
“The damage zone,” Wren said, her hair wrapping around her face as a wind blew at them. She pushed her hair back, with one hand, the other on the reigns.
“Exactly. It can stretch for miles, sucking the life out of everything it touches,” he said. “Just remember your training once we reach Saldoria, Wren. I can’t have my newest recruit getting herself injured. Or worse.”
“Of course,” she said. “I promise not to get there and make a fool of myself.”
Flint grinned. “That’s what I like to hear. You are a true marvel, Wrennesa Grey.”
She shrugged a shoulder. “I do try.”
They flew over forests and rivers, and small villages scattered throughout the countryside. She peered down at several temples set up in the formation of a triangle around The Vale. They were magnificent glass structures that reflected the light of the sun. Set up to signal one another from their tall towers that stretched to the clouds, many mages and monks took up residence there after leaving the Academy.
As they approached Saldoria, the clouds darkened into several levels of rolling puffs of gray and black.
“There,” Flint said, his voice turning grave.
The hairs on Wren’s neck stood on end.
“May the Mother, save us.”
14
Nothing could have prepared the Elite for what they saw. They approached the city walls, and Wren stared in disbelief at the state of Saldoria.
A shiver ran up her spine as she peered down to the shocking scene below.
She’d just been there the night before. Now, it was gone.
Desolation outstretched before them.
Flint led the way, and the other Elite hovered in the air behind him.
There was a great twisting pain in her gut—a sorrow and disbelief—that she saw reflected in the eyes of the others.
“What happened here?” Reed asked. He raked fallen strands of teal hair from his face, revealing a scar that stretched across his cheek.
Flint looked back, and his eyes met Wren’s.
“Behold the wrath of a Titan,” he replied.
Her gaze scanned the ruins of the—once opulent—kingdom, and rested on the southern wall. Two large doors of stone crisscrossed with steel strapping had been blasted apart, leaving only fallen stones and rubble behind.
“Shall we land?” Wren asked, and Flint shook his head.
“No. Necro is still here. He leaves a mist of his essence everywhere he goes,” Flint said. “We should wait a few days to comb through the streets.”
Beck flew downward, peering down from the back of his purple dragon. He looked over his shoulder, amber eyes cast toward Flint. “So, there will be no survivors?”
Flint shook his head. “Unfortunately, no, there will be no survivors.”
The sinking feeling in Wren’s gut only worsened. She had been a survivor. What made her special?
“Scout from the skies,” he order
ed. “We will survey the ruins in two days.”
Wren and Reed veered to the right, flying over where the palace had once been. He didn’t speak to her. The others rarely did.
But, they stayed close to one another, cautious of what awaited in those black-covered ruins.
From a safe distance, Wren followed a path of shaded alleyways. Empty shops and cottages stood knocked down to one level, or to the surface of the street.
Then, there were the bodies.
Covered in black ash, hundreds of bodies were scattered through the streets. She imagined those innocent elves racing to safety as Necro stretched across their city.
They hadn’t been fast enough, and Necro showed no mercy.
She glanced to her right and noticed that Reed caught her wiping tears from her eyes.
Instead of chiding her for being a soft, weak girl, he offered a nod of empathy.
“Appalling, isn’t it?”
She exhaled, regaining her composure, and nodded. “How could anyone be so cruel?”
Reed shrugged. “A Titan has no soul,” he said. “No heart.”
“Reed, Wren,” Flint called, sparking their attention. “I saw something down there. Are you up to following me down?”
Wren didn’t hesitate. “I am. I’ve been exposed once before. What didn’t kill me then, shouldn’t kill me now.”
He gave a lopsided grin. “That’s what I wanted to hear. Follow me.”
15
Flint led the way down the eerie roads covered in a thick fog of darkness and gray mist.
Once they landed, their dragons took to the skies, scouting.
“Necro really made a mess of things,” Reed said, shaking his head as he surveyed their surroundings. “These poor souls had no idea what was coming.”
Wren frowned at what she saw. “One day he will be forced to account for his evil deeds.”
“Again,” Flint added. “Don’t forget he’s already been sentenced to judgement once before.”
Her lips pursed as she glanced over at a skeleton that hung inside the stable before her. It was as if the muscle and flesh had been blown or burnt away.
She kept her hand on the hilt of her sword, prepared to draw it if necessary. As she turned to follow Reed and Flint down the roads covered in thick, black soot, the scent of burnt flesh burned her nostrils.
Reed froze, and warnings sparked in her belly.
“Something,” he said, sniffing the air, his eyes turning black as he did so. “Is coming this way.”
“Just perfect,” she grumbled.
Flint folded his arms across his chest. He tilted his head toward the black mass that flew toward them.
“Stay on guard, Elite,” Flint said, stretching his neck.
Wren shielded her eyes against the glow that appeared before them. Within the glow was a figure. She tensed, praying it wasn’t Necro himself.
What emerged from the smoke surprised them all. It wasn’t Necro, but a man.
Wren tilted her head. She’d never seen anyone like him.
The inner glow of his body shone through and emitted a golden fog that encircled him.
Magic sparked around his body as he stepped forward, and drew his sword.
Tall, with dark, red hair, and blue eyes that glowed in the darkness. He was a stark contrast to the fog that rose from the ground. A red cape billowed behind him, secured to his armor. As he seemed to take in his surroundings, his glow began to fade.
Once he noticed them, he pointed his sword at Flint.
“Are you the leader?”
Flint stepped forward, sword ready, energy orb summoned and hovering beside his head.
Wren frowned, and stepped to stand by his side. She wished she could summon an energy orb herself.
“I am,” Flint said. “Who are you?”
“Who I am is of no consequence. But, I will give you a fair warning, friend,” he said, lowering his sword to his side. “Leave this place, and there will be no trouble.”
Wren and the others froze, and exchanged a glance between one another.
“Is he being serious?” Reed asked, brows furrowed.
“Deathly,” the stranger answered.
“Who are you?” Wren asked, and he finally met her gaze.
“Name’s Ember,” he said, and bowed. “My lady.”
Her cheeks burned at his reply, but Flint moved to stand before her, as if shielding her.
“We are the Dragon Elite,” Flint announced. “We’ve been sent from The Vale to survey the damage and look for survivors. You shouldn’t be here.”
Ember raked his hand through his hair, and sighed. His eyes lifted to the sky, and narrowed as if he saw something.
“Better leave now,” he said, holding his sword ready. A loud sound ignited from the blade, and began to emit black smoke.
Wren began to speak when something darted across the sky toward them.
“To the skies,” Flint shouted, and extended his arm to call his dragon.
Wren hurried to summon Luna as the others did the same.
Once their dragons arrived, they each leaped onto their back and took to the sky.
“Fools,” Ember shouted after them.
Wren heard him, and hesitated, hovering in the sky as she peered down at him. Before she could make a decision to follow the others, or go back to the ground, a crackling in the air caught her attention.
Of course, she had to go. She was an Elite, and her commanding officer had given an order. She grabbed the reigns, and darted into the sky to catch up with the others.
Lightning struck, and the dark clouds gathered to smother them in pitch black.
Reed dodged whatever material force appeared before them. Astride his dragon, he backed away, stunned.
Wren drew the dagger from its strap on her leg and leaned her belly onto Luna.
“What was that?” Wren asked, eyes wide as she tried to catch another glimpse of whatever had attacked.
“Something unnatural,” Reed said, searching the skies at her side.
A shadowy figure appeared before them, arms outstretched and black hair whipping around a pale face.
Terror gripped Wren’s gut, and throat, and left her frozen.
She’d never seen anything like it.
A wave of black smoke fluttered through the air, remnants and a hint of a solid figure lost in its dark depths.
The figure was male, with dark, hollow eyes and sharp teeth that were exposed as his lips curled into a grin. Every movement was fluid, as he was encased in the smoke.
“Mine,” he said, and Wren’s blood ran cold.
It couldn’t be.
No.
Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the face of the eerie being before them.
“Necro,” she said in a breathy voice that was almost too soft to hear.
His laugh filled the entire kingdom, and as he shot toward her, she screamed, and nearly fell off Luna’s back as the dragon bucked and tried to turn around and fly away.
Cold hands wrapped around her throat, and she feared that this was the end.
Her dagger was useless against a Titan.
“Wren,” Reed shouted, and was knocked from his dragon by a shadowy mist that reached out from Necro’s body.
Her scream was caught in her throat, and she tried to wrench free to see if Reed had made it back onto his dragon.
Two more black mist ropes wrapped around her body, lifting her from Luna’s back.
While he held her immobile, she stared into his eyes through tears.
“What do you want with me?” Wren asked, her heart racing. The jewel of secured to her necklace began to glow, and pulsed against her skin.
Tucked beneath her tunic, he never noticed, but the incessant vibration left her unnerved.
Necro leaned closer, until their faces were nearly pressed together.
He smelled of sulfur and ashes, of fire and coal. He didn’t speak, but opened his mouth and began sucking the air between them. As he did
so, she realized the air from her lungs was being pulled from her mouth, and she couldn’t breath.
Particles of flesh rose from her face, and she fought to scream. He was sucking away her life force.
He was killing her.
Pain shot through her, filling every vein. His cold fingers around her throat, and tentacles of mist around her body squeezed, relentlessly.
Her eyes began to roll into the back of her head, when someone flicked out a bolt of blue fire magic that shot through Necro’s body and startled him. The sky crackled with thunder and lightning, and the air grew tight around her.
His eyes became more than hollow holes and glowed yellow as he stared at her in what she was certain was shock.
More thunder that boomed in her ears, and her body pulsed with energy so powerful she was certain her bones would split open and break.
His grip on her throat loosened, slightly, and as she began to fade into darkness, someone grabbed her, and yanked her away.
All she knew was that she was flying, fast, and hard, and whoever held her held tightly, and refused to let go.
The bone-chilling roar that filled the air was the last thing she heard as she succumbed to darkness.
16
“Wren,” a voice called.
Wren opened her eyes to a bright light. She was being carried away down a tunnel with walls made of water that reflected her favorite memories.
At the edge of the river was North, fishing and smiling at her as she splashed around in the shallow portion, just off the rocks. They were just children, with bright futures ahead, and nothing but sunny days and cheerful afternoons to pass the time.
She giggled, holding her skirts as he began to sing a song.
Then, she stood with her back against a tree, stunned as Flint stole a kiss. They’d been challenging one another when he grabbed her by the hips, and kissed her for the first time.
She touched her lips, watching as the wind blew at their hair, the sun beaming down on the beauty of young innocence.
She reached out to the images, wishing she could escape this hollowness, and join her past self. There was so much that she would change—so much she wished she could tell herself about the future.
