Rise of the Flame

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by K.N. Lee




  Rise of the Flame

  Book One of the Eura Chronicles

  K.N. Lee

  Copyright © 2015 by K.N. Lee

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  www.Kn-Lee.com

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Rise of the Flame/ K.N. Lee. -- 1st Ed.

  Acknowledgements

  Rise of the Flame was the first book I’ve ever written. It started as a short story that I typed on my mother’s typewriter when I was eleven years old.

  How it has grown!

  Throughout the years my dreams have shaped Lilae and Liam’s world, and unique creatures and powers began to seep into this world. With each passing year that I added more and more chapters, Lilae began to be shaped by my experiences, insecurities, and dreams.

  While a powerful being that is faced with saving the world, I believe that she is the most like me in many ways. From a girl in my dreams and daydreams, to a character put before the world, Lilae is a cherished being that I have long loved and looked to for solace. Writing her story has helped me through the toughest times. When my home was broken into, and my laptop was stolen with the only file that I had of Lilae’s story, I almost lost the desire to write.

  I’d lost years of work, and entered a six month depression that made it impossible to even pick up a pen and paper or open a file on my computer. It was Lilae’s incessant reoccurrence in my dreams that gave me the courage to get over the pain of having lost her, and to start the entire book from scratch. I must say that starting over was the best thing I’ve ever done. I may have lost thousands of written words, but Lilae’s story was engrained in my mind. And so, the story morphed into the epic trilogy that I present to you today.

  Throughout the years many people have encouraged me and gave me the strength to pursue my dream of becoming an author.

  I must thank my family for always supporting my writing. My mother always encouraged me, and my grandmother introduced me to the incredible world of fantasy, and my younger brother was always there to let me read my stories to him.

  Thank you to my beta readers, Melinda Metz, Carrie Enders, Jacqueline Pfhal, Julia Fe Chala, Zachary Katz-Stein, Erica Li, Caridad Ortiz, and Kenichi Kamihara.

  Thank you to my editor, Ann Wicker. Special thanks to my amazing artist, Jennifer Munswami of JM Rising Horse Creations, and my fairy god-mother, Colleen M. Albert, The Grammar Babe.

  It is with the help of these incredible individuals that I present to you, Rise of the Flame.

  Dedicated to Ava and Beckham.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Bonus Material

  Author Bio

  Prologue

  Even in the lowest levels of the Aurorian palace, where the servants slept¸ the castle staff sat up and listened to the queen’s cries of pain. No one wanted her to die. She was only the fourth queen of the Black Throne and yet she was the most loved.

  King Torek paced the dim, narrow corridor; the only light came from the brass torches placed against the stone walls. His brow furrowed as he waited for his summons.

  He wondered if it was wise of them to try for a second child. He was growing older and weaker. But one son wasn’t enough of a legacy for an Aurorian king. Torek had grown up with four brothers and seven sisters.

  The time for doubts had passed. They were twenty hours into labor and either the child would finally come or both the baby and the mother would die.

  King Torek sat down on the carpeted corridor’s floor in exhaustion. His legs were tired from standing. Sweat ran down his balding scalp.

  “Do you need anything, sire?”

  King Torek waved the young guard away as one last scream, more agonizing than the rest, broke him from his thoughts. Torek drew a fearful breath and waited.

  After a few moments of complete silence, the short midwife opened the doors to Queen Sysil’s quarters and ushered him inside.

  The air inside the room was thick and steamy, the candlelight dim; it bathed the room in a faint orange glow. The smell of blood and sweat invaded his nostrils, so he covered his nose with his long velvet sleeve.

  King Torek noticed his young wife sprawled motionless on the bed. “Is she all right?” A look of worry creased his aging face.

  Queen Sysil’s eyes seemed sealed shut from tears of pain. Her scarlet hair was in disarray and sweat beaded her pale face. Her chest rose slightly and fell, and he sighed in relief.

  The midwife nodded. “She’s only resting.” Her aged eyes seemed to hold something more.

  “Where’s the child?” His dark eyes roamed the room. There were no screams or cries from the baby.

  The midwife pointed a chubby finger to the small bassinet at the queen’s bedside. The midwife’s aide stepped aside timidly, careful to avoid eye contact as the king towered over them on his path to the baby.

  An attendant wiped the sweat from the queen’s face with a cool rag. Sysil’s lips trembled. “I am sorry that it is a girl. We can try again, if it is your desire.”

  If only they had time to try again. Sysil was only twenty-two, but Torek was nearly seventy, and his body reminded him of his mortality every day. Two children would have to do.

  “A baby girl?” To everyone’s surprise, Torek smiled.

  He looked in at the daughter who seemed so calm and peaceful. He picked her up, and his thoughts of having another boy vanished as he stared at her appealing, yet eerie beauty.

  The girl was tiny, with a head full of short, curly hair. He’d never seen anyone with hair that shade of red before. It was so bright, that it seemed to have traces of gold throughout.

  The king’s body ten
sed as though under a spell, when his daughter looked up into his eyes. Under long, thick golden lashes were eyes of a rich, bluish green. He gasped, almost dropping her, when a faint flicker of light moved deeply within them. The child yawned so innocently, her little mouth opening in a perfect circle, before she closed her eyes to sleep.

  “Do not look too deeply into the child's eyes.”

  “She’s bewitched,” one of the attendants whispered.

  Torek turned and looked at the midwife; one of his bushy white eyebrows rose in search of answers. The queen’s attendants avoided his eyes as they busied themselves with cleaning the room of the blood-soaked rags.

  The babe did indeed resemble the queen as far as her hair color; however, her blue-green eyes were rare and unsettling. Though many humans of the North had special traits, there was something more to this girl.

  Torek already felt a deep love for the child, his baby girl. He gently hugged her close to him.

  “Let me hold her, your grace.” The midwife held her arms out, her small eyes never leaving the baby.

  “My king, what is wrong?” Sysil weakly tried to sit up in the bed. Her face paled even more when she saw Torek’s smile fade.

  The child’s eyes…did that thing again, flickering with light. Torek swallowed hard, fearing that something was wrong. He watched as the midwife examined the baby, the room full of tension.

  Heavy boots trampling down the corridor broke the silence. The door burst open and the captain of the palace guards, Pirin, charged into the room.

  “What is going on?”

  Pirin pointed to the midwife. “Get the child from that woman! She is a witch.” Pirin looked to the king and spoke quickly. “We found the real midwife’s body in the stables.” He glared at the woman who stood there with the princess in her arms.

  There was a collective gasp from the aides.

  “I’ve been called many things over the centuries, but never a witch.”

  Torek’s heart raced as he watched the midwife transform to a woman of a younger age. He stepped back, startled. His jaw hung open as his eyes searched her face. Torek balled up his fists as the rage filled his veins.

  She did look evil with her black hair and pale skin. Her blue eyes looked at him without fear and that made his anger intensify. She stood there holding his beloved daughter.

  “I assure you,” she said, “I am Delia, Elder and gatekeeper of the Underworld. Not even a witch is safe from my power. Now, lower your weapons, and listen to me.”

  “Sorcery! Seize her!”

  Delia shook her head, gripping the baby close to her chest. “I have not come to harm the child.” She raised a hand as if to calm them, meeting all of their eyes.

  “Seize her!” The soldiers charged for her.

  The calamity and uproar upset the wee princess, who wailed into the air.

  “Silence!” With a flick of her small hand, Delia seemed to rip their voices right from their throats. It was so sudden and immobilizing that no one could even scream. The room was flooded by light and all sound was sucked away. When she lowered her hand, everyone was frozen in place like statues.

  Delia slumped onto a chair, exhausted from her sudden burst of energy. She looked down at the child whose cry was the only sound heard in the room. She sighed and gently rubbed the girl’s tiny hand, as if to soothe her.

  “I warned you,” Delia said, shaking her head. “I have come a long, long way to help you humans.”

  Torek watched as Delia gazed into his daughter’s eyes. He saw the woman’s body shiver and knew that she, too, saw the light flicker there.

  “The Ancients have asked me to protect this child, and as an Elder, I am more qualified than any of you to help her fulfill her destiny.”

  The veins in Torek’s neck strained as he watched the woman cradling his daughter. Elder or not, he wanted to break free from the hold she had on all of them, and wring her neck.

  She reached inside her leather side-purse for a clear vial of blue liquid. When she opened the cask, a slight cloud of frost escaped. Torek watched as Delia drank a tiny sip; she squeezed her eyes shut and breathed deeply, as if waiting for something to happen. Finally, she stood.

  “Listen, Torek. You should be glad that I arrived first.” She wrapped the baby in a blanket and secured her to a sling upon her chest. “I don’t have the time to explain everything, but you have to know that others will come, if the child stays here. You have to trust me.”

  Delia knew that she was asking the impossible of Torek and Sysil.

  “Our world is about to change,” Delia said. “There are beings who would seek to kill the princess and destroy your kingdom. Understand that I will protect her, train her, and prepare her for the time when she will be called upon to save our world.”

  Delia looked toward the captain of the guards; he was tall like most Aurorians and very well built. “Pirin is it?” His eyes widened. “I shall take you with me. Lilae will need training, and”—she looked him over—“you will do.”

  Delia released Pirin from his frozen state, and he fell to the floor. His hair was so blond that it was nearly white, and it fell into his eyes as he looked up at her. He winced as he began to move his limbs, as if shaking out pins and needles. He stretched his arms and picked up his sword.

  “What do you mean, ‘will do?’” Pirin frowned at her, furrowing his thin eyebrows. “I haven’t agreed to anything.”

  “Do you understand that you have been chosen to join the child and me?”

  Torek looked around at the others, whose eyes were now glazed over; he sensed that they were no longer aware of what was occurring.

  “Why?” Pirin asked. “You’re still an enemy as far as I’m concerned. I know you have power. I’ve seen that. But try to harm the king and queen and I will find a way to kill you.”

  Delia blinked at him and sighed. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but in time the Ancients will reveal to you what I have seen.”

  Pirin stood there, and glanced at the king.

  “The Ancients created of the races who populate the world, and they have put their trust in this me. Can you understand this?”

  “You’re obviously not from Auroria,” Pirin reasoned, his eyes grazing over her dark hair. “You don’t have our pure blood, nor fair hair and light eyes.” Though Delia’s eyes were blue, they were dark, like the ocean at night. “But you haven’t come all of this way just to kill the child, either. That is what I understand.”

  “I have not, Pirin. But there are those who would come from afar, to do just that. I wish to protect the child from those with power, who would use it to kill her. She is a weapon that if in the wrong hands, could cause great harm to this world.”

  “You are really an Elder?” Pirin remained calm, looking at the woman who claimed to once rule the Underworld.

  Delia gave a single nod. “I am.”

  Pirin frowned. “You don’t look like an Elder.”

  Delia raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever seen an Elder?”

  He shook his head.

  “Good. And you don’t want to see me in my true form.” She watched his face. “Pirin, look at me.”

  He glanced up at her.

  “I will tell you everything you need to know after we are far from danger.”

  “What danger?”

  “I don’t think you are quite ready to know such things,” she said. “But in time, I will tell you.”

  Though Pirin’s stance looked imposing, his eyes filled with worry. “I need more than that, Elder. I have a wife and two little girls. What will become of them? Who will protect them if I come with you and the princess?”

  “Bring them,” Delia said without hesitation. “We will give this child a family, and protect her until her time has come.”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “You do. But wouldn’t you still be serving your king and queen by protecting their daughter?”

  Pirin looked up. “Yes, but I’d be putting my twin d
aughters in harm’s way.”

  Delia lifted her shoulders. “Are there any other soldiers who could do as good of a job in protecting and training the princess as you?”

  He shook his head.

  “And wouldn’t it be wise to keep your family close, to protect and train them as you would the princess?”

  Pirin looked back at his men. They were still frozen.

  “I know your secret, Pirin…”

  His face lost what little color it had when his eyes lifted to hers. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  He shifted from one foot to another. “What do you think you know?”

  “I know everything.” There was a tense silence between them, as she watched him with a straight face. “So, are you coming or not?”

  “I'll do it.”

  Delia nodded, a small smile forming at the corners of her lips. “Are you doing it because I know all of your secrets, or because you want to?”

  “Everyone has secrets. I care about the child. You have given me a chance to protect her, and I accept.”

  “Well said. I see much good in you, Pirin. You will go down in history for your part in this.”

  Pirin put his sword away and looked at the queen, whose tears were trailing down her face. “I don’t care about history. I only care about this child and my own. If what you say is true about danger heading this way, then we’d better get going.”

  Pirin crossed the room and wiped the queen’s face. He leaned down and whispered something to her. Pirin unhooked Sysil’s silver necklace and balled it into his fist.

  Delia narrowed her eyes and asked, “What exactly are you doing?”

  Pirin turned, his hazel eyes wet. “For the princess. She will need a token from her mother. It’s the least we can do, isn’t it?”

  Delia nodded, staring at the necklace for a moment before putting her hand across the baby’s face. Instantaneously, the little girl fell asleep.

  “One more question, Elder?”

  “Call me Delia, please,” she replied to Pirin.

  He nodded, dropping the necklace into his pocket. “Fine…Delia.” He lifted his shoulders in a shrug, and asked, “Why me?”

  Delia pulled on her cloak and covered the girl’s head, holding her snuggly against her chest. She walked toward the door, but glanced back at Pirin, an eerie smile on her pale face.

 

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