Heir of Vaashaa: The Lost Child of the Crown (The Lost Child of the Crown Series Book 2)

by Celine Simpson

  Another moment passed as I sifted through my thoughts further. “Would her not knowing, not understanding, would it put her in danger?”

  When Jude took too long to answer, I moved my attention toward him.

  “Your Highness – Silas… I’m not…” His fumbling said it all. “Only in that she could be caught off guard when taken with your sight.” He stepped towards me. During his fumbling answer I had launched from my seated position on the deck of the ship where I had fallen blind. Not a good look I realised upon reflection.

  “I have not known any soulbound to be recorded as having been so…distanced by space when the bond took hold. While your soul now knows, hers may not. A theory, Silas. That’s all it is.”

  I absorbed what he said – not taking his theory as a message from the Gods but I would think on it. Not only did I know she had escaped the clutches of her family; a detail that didn’t go unnoticed but instead fuelled my drive. I also knew where she was. The forest on the coast had since resumed its normal appearance of being still and serene, standing tall and strong. I had seen it though, both from aboard this ship and from within the confines of the canopy across from where I stood. I was drawn to it, to that spot I knew for sure she was. Like a song in my blood. I would find her.

  “Change of plans, General.” Jude stood taller at the mention of his title. “Sir,” his response: awaiting orders. I turned to leave but spoke my words clearly for him to hear them as I made my way below deck, a mimic of what my father had done moments before. “Gather the others for a meeting. We need to act quickly.”

  How the meeting room aboard this vessel had become a place of permanence for us. A constant amongst the uncertainty. The oval table that filled the room it was almost matched to the length of the space. The wood on the surface of the table showed it had clearly been used for things other than discussions of war. Watermarks that bore a striking resemblance to the bottom of a cup of ale were littered across the table. The chairs were weathered and aged, even so they were still perfectly functioning. Their fabric upholstery and cushioning were clean and surprisingly free of stains, flat and uncomfortable as they were. The dull cream colours brought out the lightness in the wood that surrounded us. From the floor to the walls to the ceiling. The room was big enough to hold eight people at most and not much else besides the furniture.

  The windows carved into the side of the ship didn’t look out toward the coast, but rather towards the open vastness that was The Eastern Sea. I could only see a few of them through the relatively small circular windows but I knew our ship brethren had raced to meet us. The calling sound of the bell being rung from ship to ship was a signal to converge. We were spread out upon the water during our journey north. Not spread so far that it was unsafe but it was best to come together where plans were bound to change based on the meeting I had called.

  The fifty remaining vessels of our split armada drew together like moths to a flame. Many of my friends scattered across the vessels both present, off the Altrey coast and protecting Lygot. A protective wall around our island kingdom as it was left in the hands of the governing board, advisors who worked with my father, some of them our relation, some not. My cousins were many, but content to rule over and dwell within their own towns scattered in between the more developed areas of Lygot. The major cities of Fort and Zan were watched over by the other royal and noble families of Lygot. Though the Vangarts – my family – had held the crown for the last six hundred years, there were others in my kingdom who held title and power.

  Except for gatherings where all families of royalty were required to be present, I didn’t seek out my relatives, nor they me. One cousin of mine stood to command the ships now surrounding Lygot, protecting our kingdom should anything head their way as a repercussion of what we were now fighting. We had become close growing up.

  We were born in the same year, he – Jaxon – in the summer, whereas I was born just before him in the spring. The son of my mother’s sister he was one of nine and sat somewhere around the middle. The rest of his siblings were kind enough but had never cared much to build a friendship.

  My father’s arrival sucked my awareness back to the present. The truth about my longing for home only remained for a moment before I tucked it away. It was helpful to remind myself that there would be no home to love should we not win this oncoming war.

  “Good. Now that we are all gathered; I propose a change of plans to our current approach.” My proposal was met with silence. Not the silence of disagreement but of contemplation. My father had retreated to his own room upon the declaration of the status of my soul. I couldn’t tell what emotion moved behind his eyes, but when he met my gaze they were expertly blank. “The floor is yours, Silas.”

  The meeting wasn’t short, but we agreed upon an amendment to our plan of attack with little dispute. The soldiers from Shellandria that still held camp along The Shared River were awaiting our command. They would soon become restless for so much time had passed without word. It would take too long to send a messenger now to the ships that remained at Altrey, to inform them or to get word to the Shellandrian forces directly, and when the army aboard these ships reached Move they would be heading along the eastern side of the ranges to head south and the forces still camped near Venta would sweep down from the west.

  It played to our advantage to have some of us, myself included, march with the Shellandrians from the west. No one would be expecting it. If it had crossed Cander’s mind at all that we would make for the northern coastline of Vyterra and sweep south through the kingdom, he would be likely to leave the western side of the city less guarded. It ran along his tactical patterns so far. With King Rolland marching with the forces from the north, it would put our forces coming from the west at a similar advantage to the Lygot army. Should the King or Queen of Shellandria march with us, or perhaps any of their children, all gifted with the affinity of fire, we would be better for it; a strong front to their weakest side.

  I was grateful in the meeting when Jude brought to light the nature of being soulbound, and what that meant for power. To find Terraleise would mean to find a strength that could be the edge needed to win a war against what we could only expect to be soldiers tainted with Black Magic and still we only knew the bare minimum. No one truly knew the extent of the power. I told them what I had learned when Terra had taken my sight, that I knew she had somehow by the grace of the Gods escaped from Altrey and was somewhere in the forest on the eastern coast of Vyterra, but I couldn’t vouch for her safety and it was not something I would risk. I left out the information given to me by the essence of the late King of Vyterra, thinking it would probably be a little much for even my closest confidants to digest.

  I simply wouldn’t do it; sit and wait, knowing full well where she was and not doing a damn thing about it. I would never again leave her to carry the weight of this war alone no matter the selflessness of her sacrifice or the mark of her bravery.

  It was settled. We would make for the coast.

  We had located a cove almost directly in line with our ship. We would need to scale the cliff face to reach the top – the over six-hundred-foot drop of what was almost completely smoothed rock wouldn’t be a problem for us. I would propel us up, but the more people the more power it took. To risk being so depleted before making the rest of the journey, it could take days to be back to my full strength. The call was Tashka’s who suggested Jude, Asher and I be the only ones to make the trip. We were faster and stronger. Leaving Tashka to command the forces in our absence as the shared general of the forces made the most sense. With her mind for strategy no one questioned it.

  As soon as our meeting was over, we moved to gather what we needed. To pack our supplies with enough to last us at least a few days before we would have to worry about finding our own food. It was no more than two hours later that we were on a paddleboat making our way from the fleet of ships to the cove we had pinpointed.

  We were all in our fighting leathers. All you co
uld see were the swords that lay against our backs, but only a fool would think that was all we brought with us. We were not going unprepared. My body still carried the aches and pains from my attack. The wounds on my body were scabbed over and fully hidden beneath my clothes, which were the only reminder of what had happened, but more than enough to drive me forward.

  I stood on the shore of the coast along the small alcove carved by nature we were dropped off at. My eyes did not leave the paddleboat until it arrived back to the ship we came from, the leading vessel of what was still an impressive remaining fifty ships of the armada. It was beautiful, to see the ships moving across the water backed by the setting sun. They looked like they were sailing through a vast mirrored pool. Silent and Serene.

  Without so much as a second thought the ships released their sails and continued their journey north. I could no longer make out their forms upon the deck of the ship, but I imagined them there, Tashka and my father and the soldiers who had since become my friends, and made a promise to myself that I would see them once again.

  Jude and Asher had readjusted their packs with mine beside them. The sun was setting and we needed to make camp before the light was gone completely. I walked up to meet them both, slinging my pack across my body, ensuring it was not in the way of my weapons.

  I turned to the others, “It can feel…strange, a little uncomfortable if you’ve never experienced it before. Keep your knees locked.” They gave me a nod of understanding before their posture stiffened. Moving my hand before me, I went about manipulating the air beneath our feet. Willing it to solidify like a block rising from beneath us and then slowly having us begin to rise like we were standing upon a growing pillar. As I continued to turn my hand, the air around us from the waist down began to move. I allowed us to hover for a moment – the feeling was strange to have tendrils of wind wrap around you – flowing so fast it was as if dozens of hands were moving around your body. The swirling wind around us was to keep us balanced while the solid pillar from below thrust us upward; it was known to be disorientating when you couldn’t see anything, only feel it.

  Once they had again stiffened their postures I sent us up. We made it to the top of the continent in less than a minute. Both Jude and Asher took a moment to compose themselves before making a line directly for the forest. I couldn’t blame them, I knew the sensation was disturbing. Where there were those of royal blood who were able to wield earth and fire and water, it was different to manipulating the wind. The other elements were tangible. You could see them and when those without magic, the common folk, experienced their presence it wasn’t so hard to understand or conceptualise the kind of magic you were seeing.

  Learning to manipulate the air and wind around you were more difficult tasks, it was not as simple as forming a drop of water or a dancing flame in the palm of your hand. There was no image of what ribbons of air were to look like, or a shield of wind. It became what you imagined it to be. It could be soft and calming, or it could be hard and destructive. This was why it was so unsettling. You could not determine the thoughts and ideas another would conjure up in reference to magic of the affinity of air. Where I would imagine ribbons and tendrils, another could envisage razors and whips.

  It was a fine line and took me some time to manage it.

  I took a deep breathe, releasing it with a sigh and without looking back to the armada behind me, I followed my friends into the forest before me.

  Fourteen

  The sound of a fire crackling danced around my mind first.

  The warmth of the flames settled my body into an unfamiliar sense of safety, a feeling I knew I had once taken for granted while huddled in front of the smouldering embers in the room I shared with Niko and Leena. Though it turned out we were never siblings after all, the memories of those whispered evenings clung to my heart, sinking their claws in with the ever-surfacing memory that they were dead.

  I jolted awake with an inhale that hurt my lungs, causing them to ache with the shock of expanding too quickly. My eyes snapped open but I willed my body and my breathing into an easy calm as the whispered sounds of the guards from my unit continued on without suspicion. I could hear a number of murmurs of varying pitch but couldn’t distinguish their words so I knew they were close, but not too close.

  With my heartbeat echoing in my ears I willed every racing, screaming part of me that begged to flee to calm down. I needed to try and hear the words they were saying, figure out where we were and where we were going. What they planned to do now that they knew who I was and that it was obvious I was far too weak to do anything; move, fight, eat, let alone defend myself. I was completely left to their will. Dammit.

  A pair of black boots neared as I shut my eyes once more. As they drew closer the voices ceased their whispering altogether with a shuffling sound of legs uncrossing and the crunch of leaves under hands as they moved to stand.

  “Terraleise.” Dee’s voice still held the same unwavering pride it did the night before when she told me of the love she had for my mother, my family. “Terraleise, you have no enemies here.”

  My eyes peeled open as her black boots once again became the focus of my attention. Steadying my breathing I drew them up to where she stood above me, a hand held out. A promise and an unrequested, but incredibly necessary, offer of help. As the frantic pace of my heart began to settle back into a healthy rhythm, the aching of my entire body came to the forefront of my mind. My head began to swim along with my stomach as the memories of the last time this pain was my reality began to surface. Pulling myself up on my forearms only seconds before my stomach tried its best to empty. There was little in it but bile which burned its way out of my mouth and nose. Dee leaped, not away from me as I would have thought but instead towards me. To pull the heavy mass of my hair away from the vomit before me. “Simeera, water if you have some.” Dee’s request was kind but held the authority that made me question who the real general was here. Tentative footsteps closed in before retreating quietly, a skin of water made its way to my lips and I drank deeply. The burn washing away with each gulp. It was a heaven in its own right. Offering it back to Dee I wiped my mouth on the back of my sleeve before mumbling an apology that was immediately waved away as unnecessary.

  “Can you sit up?” Dee’s question was tinged with the knowledge that one answer would be more beneficial than another, so though it was the last thing I wanted to do, I nodded my head. Helping me up, Dee got me onto unsteady legs before she stepped away from me, retreating to the group of guards that looked on from a small distance away. It left almost as if I were on show.

  Moving my shoulders back and tucking my hair behind my ears – it had since become unbound and now sat in long dark waves down my back – I moved my eyes up to look at the group in front of me.

  I looked each one of them in the eyes, realising that I knew only two of the five soldiers by name, but they all looked at me with recognition. Not with familiarity but with a look of guarded comfort; a reminder of something better. Someone better. My mother.

  Then, one by one, they all knelt before me. The sudden urge to scorn them for the nonsense and bring them back to standing crashed over me like a wave. The awkwardness that came with my title but not the training that went into understanding that this was a sign of respect, of support, was hard to overcome. Something that members of royal households learned to expect and relish from birth.

  “Rise, please.” I had expected my voice to come out smaller and more uneven than it did. It sounded sure, clear as the song of a bird that fluttered through the trees. It sounded like I belonged to the crown that was meant to sit upon my head. As we looked at one another once more I inclined my head back to them. “Thank you, but forgive my confusion, are you not loyal to my uncle? Do you not detest not only the person whom I mirror but what my being alive means?” I didn’t ask the questions to insult or draw out an argument from them but because I was genuinely confused. Not only did they save my life but they bowed before me, this group o
f Vyterran soldiers who I joined on a mission to Move to link up with the forces bordering the coast.

  “We hold no loyalty to him.” The only blonde girl in the group spat the words. Not towards me but at Cander, and the implication that anyone would dare support my uncle, or at least anyone with half a sane mind. The soldier next to her with a complexion not too dissimilar to my own nodded her fierce agreement.

  Simeera stepped forward towards me and spoke for the group. Her dark skin soaked up the light from the dancing flames of the fire beside us. She had rolled the sleeves of her uniform up her forearms and her hair was unbound, left loose in its tight dark curls from its usual tightly pulled back bun. Her brown doe-like eyes looked upon me with admiration. I knew straight away she was from Shellandria, or at least had one parent who hailed from the neighbouring kingdom. “If you had not fallen into our path as an answer to the prayers we have said every day since the passing of our queen, we would have torn apart this kingdom to find you, Your Majesty.”

  We were not far from where our fight with Cander’s soldiers had been. Dee had ushered everyone deeper into the forest, a safer place for now than heading back to the Inn. Our horses and carriage would be fine for a few days longer. So as the horses were cared for, the people of that ramshackle town would be glad to take on two more healthy animals. Weak as I still felt, I let tendrils of my power back into the forest, to check if there were any others walking its floor, especially any unwanted guests.