by Sela Croft
My struggle for victory continued. The last attempt to unravel Silvain’s position had met with failure. He continued to use his guerilla tactics, but I vowed that in the next encounter my troops would be successful.
On the plus side, the royals’ retreat had been encouraging. Behind the scenes, I’d utilized Blackburn, my traitorous general, to feed false intelligence to the king—on several occasions. It seemed that the tactic had worked. Alban had been misled, so had misestimated the number of troops to send. The attack had resulted in the retreat of his soldiers, but I was aware that wouldn’t happen again.
Chapter 8 – Silvain
After leaving the witch and her friend in the cold, I flew home. Upon my return, I gave the guards a nod and handed off my horse to be stabled, then headed for the castle. It was good to see that the gardens had begun to thrive. There were still sparse areas, evidence of my temper.
It wasn’t difficult to get me riled up, but I’d come by it honestly. My warrior heritage was one that I was proud of. The Dark Fighters had been in existence for longer than Alban had reigned in the kingdom. The coven had originated as a secret order of self-proclaimed warriors against anarchy.
Then, centuries ago, Lumea had abandoned the state of lawlessness for a monarchy—hardly a better choice. King Alban had been vile from the start and had only gotten worse. My cause was to fight against him and take him down.
My mother Laela had been the daughter of a well-respected general in the Dark Fighters. Her mother had been a beautiful, talented vampire and her father a strong vampire warrior. Their blood was in my veins, along with that of my natural father.
I despised acknowledging my relationship to the king. He’d been no father at all and had refused to acknowledge me as his heir. It was just as well, since I wanted no part of his perverted existence. I’d been better off as his bastard son. I’d been raised by the fighters and made my own way in the world.
I was purebred, so had no human side to weaken me. Alban had railed against the human race, yet he’d impregnated Odeya, the human woman who’d spawned Calina and Draven. It was consistent with his psychosis that he’d demeaned the poor woman, even after her death.
Yet Alban had married her, a fact that I resented to this day. He’d had the decency to make the mother of his children legitimate, to give her the honor she deserved. But he’d not only left my mother to fend for herself, he’d feared her announcement that she would bear his child.
The evil king had tried to kill her, and would have succeeded—if she hadn’t gone into hiding. I’d been a newborn when she’d placed me in the care of the fighters. Alban knew me today as the leader of the Dark Fighters, without realizing that I was his son.
My existence had been kept secret since my birth. And I hadn’t been in touch with my mother for fear that Alban would unleash vengeance upon her. It wasn’t worth that risk. But I took solace in knowing that she was protected—even if I couldn’t visit her.
Alban had created a false past and kept his discreditable acts hidden. He’d made certain that his destructive activities remained secret, so the truth was known by only a few ancients. I assumed that he intended to wreak the scourge of death upon the kingdom to assure that his reputation was maintained.
My hatred for Alban ran deep, and I would not allow him to succeed. The loss of my mother was only a part of it—although an important part. Beyond that, I continued to uphold the mission statement of the Dark Fighters to put down tyranny in all its forms.
When I entered and proceeded down the hall, Iris greeted me. She had been my steward for a long while, which left me free to attend to more important matters. “Iris,” I said. “I trust that all went well in my absence.”
“Yes, sir,” she said. “I have the place running smoothly.”
“Carry on, then.” I had other things on my mind besides domestic matters.
For one thing, Selene had refused my offer. I levitated up the stairs to the tower. It was a clear day, so I could see into the rainforest that surrounded my estate. The location had been a good choice. The thick forest was populated by plants and animals with supernatural attributes.
The dense forest and the forbidding creatures provided a barrier to my enemies. Even then, I kept a force field around my property. I leaned against the parapet and looked out. I’d taken the chance that Selene would side with me if I presented my case properly.
Apparently, the witch gave more credence to the prophecy than I’d expected. She felt the need to support Mirela, which, logically, meant that she sided with the Guardians. Hearing that she wouldn’t ally with me had been an annoying turn of events.
But I would seize victory, with or without the aid of her sorcery. My powers were substantial, plus I’d honed unique abilities that gave me an advantage. It wasn’t the magic that Draven claimed, with light pouring out of his palms, or the witchcraft that Alban used, with the concussive blasts of his scepter.
I had a talent that superseded the others. Through the centuries I’d refined my intelligence and gained cleverness that gave me an advantage. I was able to figure things out. While the rest leaned on the insubstantial stuff of prophecies and visions, I based my strategies on firmer foundations.
I understood my enemies, so had been adept at predicting their next moves. My guerilla warfare had been effective, so the Guardians had played into my hand. I could outmaneuver and outsmart any foe, which was how I intended to win the war.
I wouldn’t reject an offer of assistance, as that would be foolhardy. If Selene had agreed to pledge her support, I’d have taken any advantage I could. I’d even pondered what Nemuri had said to me before I left. She’d claimed to see the future, yet had only shared part of it.
That was the irksome thing about seers and fortune-tellers. The charlatans told only a portion of the tale, leaving the rest to be guessed. Yet I respected Nemuri, and she had previously been useful. I wasn’t certain what she’d referred to, but assumed that it would become clear.
I looked out at the star-filled sky and watched a few white clouds drift by. Under the glow of the moonlight, the rainforest looked dark and ominous. It had a special beauty, and I found comfort within its boundaries.
My mind began to conjure up future events. I lacked the ability to forecast the future, as though it had already transpired. And nor did I have visions that revealed outcomes. But I was adept as figuring out what was going to happen.
In my thoughts, I saw how events would unravel based on logic. Alban had been pushed beyond his tolerance for injury and insult. His pride was such that he could not allow change. His world-view was as he saw it, whether it bore any resemblance to reality or not.
That dissociation would push the king to act in ways that would be his undoing. In the face of the ever-changing landscape of war, he was unable to adapt. So he would continue to command his troops in the same way he ruled his kingdom: relying on outdated traditions.
Draven would lead the Guardians to attack. Despite his avowed support of progressive ways, he wasn’t that different from his father. Thwarted in battle, he would become enraged. The evil that simmered in his veins would take over, as he could not accept failure.
The two evil leaders would attack with full force. In my mind’s eye, I watched the scenes play out, like watching a play on a stage. The actors were the king and his son, both harboring anger and rage ready to explode. I could see it, just as though it was happening.
Alban would order his grotesque monsters to mow down the Guardians, his son included, with no thought for the consequences. Meanwhile, Draven would amass huge numbers of soldiers with the same in mind. He would overrun Alban’s forces to seize the victory.
Before my eyes, I saw it happen. Alban and Draven would kill each other. It was the predictable outcome, and I wouldn’t shed a tear for either of them. With the ones born of evil cast aside, swallowed up by the death they’d supported, the kingdom would be at peace. All I had to do was wait, and continue to wear away at both my ene
mies.
It was a simple scenario—nearly too simple. But a thought nagged at me. Selene’s comment had sparked the idea. As she’d pointed out, Mirela could alter the course of destiny. I’d brushed off the words of the prophecy as so much rubbish.
But if I claimed to understand my enemies, then I couldn’t ignore Mirela’s influence. She’d been foretold to be Draven’s other half, so what did that mean? I had to consider that it was possible she would restore balance. Rumors of her goodness had spread like wildfire.
Even my own staff had become attached to her in the short time she’d stayed at my castle. I’d claimed that Draven was cut from the same cloth as his father. But he had his human heritage too. I’d been certain that the evil would rise within him, that he’d give in to his inborn nature.
Yet what if Mirela changed that? I couldn’t rule out that Draven might control his baser instincts and balance his aggressive tendencies with tolerance. The thought seemed far-fetched. But it would be better than witnessing him on a rampage of death like his father.
I might have misjudged Draven, and such a miscalculation would skew the outcome I’d predicted—something I must not allow. Yet I wasn’t quick to throw aside all I’d believed about him. At this late date, it might be an error in judgment to give him the benefit of the doubt.
I recalled the look on Nemuri’s face. She had been sincere, and I couldn’t deny that she’d steered me correctly on earlier occasions, too. While in her prison cage, the ancient seer had seen into the future. Upon her rescue, she’d deemed it wise to alert me that all was not as I believed it to be. Could she have been referring to Draven…that the beliefs I clung to were false?
Chapter 9 – Selene
It had been a while since I’d had a houseguest. I couldn’t even remember the last time. But it was a pleasure to have Nemuri stay with me. She was one of the few I trusted with the location of my cottage. She’d been quite entertaining, and we hadn’t even spoken of predicting the future.
Nemuri had many stories to tell about her experiences since the last time we’d visited. And I had much to tell her, too. It was nice to share parts of life that didn’t have to do with war and the upheaval in the kingdom. Like me, my friend was fond of animals and nature.
We had much in common, so could have extended her stay. Yet she had matters to attend to, and I did as well. “I owe you,” Nemuri said. “Your rescue saved me from agony or worse.”
“I had help,” I said. “I don’t know why Silvain was so modest, but he did the hard part.”
I opened the door, then Nemuri stepped out into the fresh air. “Remember what I told you,” she said. “I’m certain that I’m right.”
Nemuri had kept her promise and shared insight with me. It had been crucial knowledge, and I doubted that it would have fallen into my hands otherwise. “I’ll take care of it.” Then I transported Nemuri to the backwoods near the coastal area, where she lived in her hideaway near the ocean.
“I’ll stay away from public areas for now,” Nemuri said. “Alban will soon have more pressing issues to focus on than my prison break. I appreciate you letting me hide out at your place.”
“You are welcome anytime,” I said, then gave her a hug.
“The same to you,” Nemuri said. “It’s your turn to visit me. I do have an ocean view.”
I smiled. “That’s a deal. As soon as I can break away, I’ll drop in and see you.”
Then I went home, since an important matter beckoned. What Nemuri had shared prompted me to rummage through my document storage. The stairs to the basement were invisible to anyone but me. I went to the secure room and opened the vault.
I’d retained many important documents over the years. The items were arranged neatly by century, then subject matter. It didn’t take long to find the one I needed.
I’d secured the document in an airtight container to preserve the paper. When I lifted it out, it looked as pristine as the day I’d stored it. The message was written in lovely script on crisp parchment. After unrolling it, I reread the contents.
The text was as I remembered. The document I held was the original scroll of the immortal prophecy. The oracle had written it in his own handwriting, so its authenticity could be verified. That hadn’t proven necessary, as no one had questioned the prediction—except for one very important aspect that I’d just learned about.
Nemuri had helped more than she knew. She’d been wise enough to realize that what she’d become aware of had to be shared. I was familiar with Draven and his past. It was vital that I shed light on a subject he’d been unable to put aside. I must get to him before he swerved from destiny’s path.
At the castle, I found Calina in the library, but she appeared a bit ill. She looked up from her work, and I said, “How do you fare today? You don’t look quite right to me.”
Calina leaned back in her chair. “Just a bit tired, is all. I’m still recovering.”
“Dare I ask from what?”
“I don’t mind telling you,” Calina said. “But you probably won’t like it any better than Draven did.” She proceeded to detail her recent connection with her father.
“It’s one thing if I annoy the king,” I said. “I have magic on my side, and I’ve been able to slip out before he retaliated.” I shook my head. “But Draven is right—you shouldn’t attempt such stunts.”
Calina seemed to consider that. “I have to disagree.” She stood up and walked over to the fireplace. “I am aware that things are heating up. This war is reaching a peak, and how events unfold is crucial.”
“I don’t disagree.”
“Then I must do all I can to help us win,” Calina said. “That’s all there is to it. If there anything I can do, I will. Too much is at stake.”
“Then you’ll be pleased about what I’ve come to tell you.” I motioned toward the door. “Where are Draven and Mirela? What I have to say concerns them.”
“They will be here in a minute,” Calina said. “Both of them are sticking close to me today. I suppose I really worried them.”
I could tell that Calina hated being fussed over, and even more, being in a weakened state. I divined that she wasn’t majorly harmed and would be fine shortly. I winked at her. “It can’t hurt to keep an eye on you.”
“Has there been anything interesting in your life lately?”
“You could say so.” I plopped into a cushioned chair and draped my satchel over the arm. “I don’t seem to lack for excitement.” I was about to relay the news of the prison escape when Draven walked in with Mirela.
“Selene, good to see you.” Draven took Mirela’s hand and sat beside her on the sofa. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“Must I always have a reason to visit?” I said. “Can’t I just drop by to see friends?”
“I suppose,” Draven said. “But I sense that you have some other purpose for being here.”
“What is it?” Mirela said. “It’s been stressful recently. If you have any help to offer, let’s hear it.”
“I’ve just come from home and had a visit with Nemuri. That’s a story in itself that I won’t go into. But while she was there, she shared a forecast into the future. It involved how Draven would deal with events, based on what he feels is true.”
I reached into my bag and took out the parchment. “You’ll want to sit down for this, Calina.” I didn’t want her fainting upon hearing the news. Without argument, she went to sit at the desk.
I had their attention, so I unrolled the document. “I think you’ll agree that the immortal prophecy is central to our current situation.”
“What’s in your hand?” Mirela said.
“I’m about to show you,” I said. “I’ll read it out loud, so we all know what we’re talking about. Then I’ll pass it around, so you can see for yourself.”
I read the scroll, but at first there was no reaction. “We know all of that,” Draven said. “My sister recited that to me from the time I was very young.”
�
��And I dreamed it, long before I arrived in this realm, when I first sensed a connection to my soul mate,” Mirela said. “I’m sure we know it by heart.”
“But you didn’t read the last paragraph to us,” Calina said. “You stopped with: Destiny will lead the pair to rule as king and queen of the ocean world.”
“I didn’t read: provided the immortal ruler awaits her arrival—or the rest of it.” I waited for their reaction.
“Is there a reason?” Draven said.
“Yes, there is.” I handed the scroll to him. “See for yourself. The warning was not a part of the prophecy. I only just learned of its existence from Nemuri.”
“I don’t understand,” Calina said. “I recited the prophecy just as my mother sang it to me, when I was only a baby. It was her lullaby.”
“But…it was a lie.”
Draven leapt to his feet, waving the scroll. “What are you saying? This document is inaccurate. It’s a forgery.”
“That is the original prophecy, written by the oracle. I’ve kept it securely stored ever since. At the time, I felt it best to make sure it was preserved, and now I see why.”
“But that can’t be,” Mirela said. “It’s missing the last part.”
I repeated the additional section that Nemuri had quoted. “But be forewarned, king of the immortals.” I looked at Draven. “If you make contact beforehand, your queen will be forever lost to you.”
The agony in Draven’s expression confirmed what Nemuri had told me. Regret consumed him, as he was certain that by going to Mirela in the human world, he’d toyed with destiny. He feared that he’d ruined the possibility of having what he wanted most—and worse, that he’d destroyed Mirela’s future.
“Yes, that is how the prophecy ended,” Draven said. “And I shall pay for my transgression.”
He looked at Mirela. “That I would do willingly, because I deserve the punishment. But my misdeed has wiped away the destiny that was rightfully yours.”
