Verddra raised her brows. “That I was over a thousand years old, from an entirely different race, and wasn’t human at all?” She laughed but shook her head. “He never knew. It was simpler that way.”
This made sense, so Radella nodded. She had to leave soon, but she needed to know. “So...I have no kelliph blood within me?”
“No.” Verddra sighed as if she regretted this. “Both your birth mother and your father were merely humans. I suppose that’s where you get the dark hair.” She gestured fondly at Radella’s black hair. She clenched her hands before her and took another small step forward. “My little Fawn, I want you to know that I love you. The Dragon Prophecy was right. I never did have a soulbound, but that didn’t mean I didn’t know love. You’re the only one in all the worlds I’ve ever cared about. All I’ve ever wanted was to be with you.”
Realizing she was speaking with an individual who had lived with loneliness for several millenniums, Radella hesitated. She glimpsed around to the dungeon. Verddra did all she could to avoid being alone, and now she was bound to be alone here in this dungeon. It felt unfair to Radella, but she knew Verddra had set her own path.
She looked at her through the barrier and gave her a nod. “Thank you for wanting the best for me.” With that, she tuned to leave, but she halted before she got too far and turned back. “And Rykeldan is back. He’s upstairs, actually.” Radella waited long enough to see the shocked look on Verddra’s face, but she smiled at her mother and magicked away.
Verddra screamed, “Come back here!” She slammed her fist into the magic barrier only to flinch away when it burned her. She cradled her injured hand close to her chest but glared at the point where Radella had been. She was seething.
What could this mean? How was Rykeldan back? Did he come back for her? Did he intend to free her? Did he even know she was here?
Not knowing answers and having no way of getting them, Verddra let out another howl of utter frustration.
31
Several levels up in a private suite designated for the royal family of Athorim, Rykeldan moved to the balcony overlooking the city made of black stone. King Caleth stood in the back of the room but kept to the shadows. His sister had requested a moment alone to speak with Rykeldan. Although Caleth would not leave them alone, he would give them some privacy.
Anelm observed the one who had been prophesied to be her soulbound. Back when she first learned of the prophecy, she knew immediately that he was the King of the Kelliphs, and she had been awed by this. The Dragons had foreseen her becoming Queen of the Kelliphs, and this was humbling. Her parents worked hard to ensure their daughter was well-trained in the arts of politics and etiquette. Alongside her, Caleth was groomed as well to be a good advisor and counselor. He would be the queen’s eyes and ears, and she would have the ear of the king. All would be well.
However, Anelm was competitive in her younger years. She and her brother competed to see who was better at every task, and she even went so far as to train in weapons with him. They worked well together, balancing out each other’s weaknesses.
Caleth met his soulbound, Lyrillind, when he was two hundred years old, but Anelm would have to wait a few hundred more years before she was finally presented to the king. That time was a brief waiting period. Anelm took every opportunity to learn everything there was of the land, the people, the alliances between other races, and the history. Her sister-in-law softened Anelm’s competitive side, and soon she was ready to meet her soulbound.
Yet he had given up on her. She knew it the moment she rode into the courtyard and saw him standing on the balcony with his hands braced on the railing.
They locked eyes.
She knew his sin without ever meeting him. She felt it deep within herself, and she could tell that he knew she knew.
Their Dragon Prophecy was broken. All her training, everything she had been raised to be was for nothing, and she set her gaze ahead once more as bitterness churned within the bottom of her stomach.
And now they stood here—all these thousands of years later.
“I loved you,” Rykeldan suddenly broke the silence, and he looked over his shoulder at her. “I always loved you.”
She folded her arms. “You should have waited for me.”
“Aye, I should have.” Rykeldan nodded wearily as he turned his gaze back upon the city. He marveled at the magical Black Stone that had built the entire city, and he turned back to her, tapping his finger on the stone. “Is this...?”
“Aye.” She nodded. “When the dragons died, we collected all of them to ensure no one else claimed them.”
“And you go by the name ‘Anelm’ now?” Then he looked at Caleth and nodded to him. “And ‘Caleth’?” He set his puzzled look upon Anelm once more. “Why?”
“Most of the pure-blooded kelliph change their names every hundred years. Until your arrival, the humans knew nothing of the existence of the kelliph or how we could live for thousands of years. In order to keep up the pretense of being ordinary, we change our names with time.”
Rykeldan nodded as he came to understand. “May I call you Therina, at least?”
Anelm shook her head. “That part of me died back in Kellirothen. You will call me Anelm,” she said with absolute authority, which caused Rykeldan to pause and consider her.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You always had a fierce spirit.”
“You never knew me.” She clenched her fists.
“I came to know you quite well as you ran from me, eluded me.” Rykeldan turned from the balcony to face her fully, and he took a step towards her. He saw Caleth step forward too, so Rykeldan moved back and decided to meander around the room. “You can learn so much about someone when you’re hunting them. You had no alliance to anyone—kelliph, human, or dragon—yet you managed to unite them all to form your own army. That was quite impressive. I always admired how you got what you wanted. I envied you actually.” Now he was halfway across the room and turned back to her as he lifted his brow. “How did you manage that? I have always wondered.”
She smiled. “All I wanted was to be away from you, and that wasn’t very hard to do since you are one person.” She motioned to him before giving him a sharp look. “However, you made it difficult when you began plundering the lands of humans and dragons in search of me.”
He made a fist as he resumed his pacing, turning his back on her. “You should have returned to me! I would have stopped all the fighting if I could have you by my side! It was foreseen by the Dragon Prophecy!” He spun around to face her. “You were destined to be my queen! Yet you forsook that destiny!”
Anger surged through Anelm, and she marched up to Rykeldan and met his gaze firmly. “No. You forsook it when you gave in to your lusts, desires, and curiosities for that one night with Verddra! You couldn’t wait one more day, and that...” Anelm stepped back. “That is entirely on you.”
Rykeldan growled at her words, but then he caught something she had said, and he looked at her curiously. “Verddra?” He didn’t recognize that name. The kelliph he had slept with was named Kithena, but he remembered what Anelm had said about kelliphs here changing their names with time. He straightened. “Is she here?”
Anelm tightened her fists and wished she hadn’t mentioned Verddra at all. He would have assumed she was gone all those years ago. It would have been better to keep it that way. However, now that he suspected something, she knew better than to lie. She wasn’t about to let him manipulate her that easily.
She took a step toward him and did not break eye contact. “If you wish to see her again, you will do exactly as I say. Once you have done that, I will let you see her again.” With that, she stepped back.
“What will you have me do?” Rykeldan watched her pull back, and she half-turned back to him to lock eyes with him.
“You will accompany us to Serhon, and once we’ve learned how to reverse the statue spell, you will use your power to undo it. You have power you haven’t used
for a thousand years, and even if it kills you, you still have thousands of lives.” She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Once you have done this, you will have started down the path of redemption, and perhaps I could find it in my heart to forgive you—one day.” She shook her head. “But for now, you will stay here.” Then she uttered a spell and looked at him. “This room is secured. You cannot leave it. None of your power will break the barrier. We will retrieve you when it is time.”
Rykeldan stared at her. He had never known anyone who stood up to him as bravely as Therina did, and he smiled fondly. “I admire your tenacity, Your Grace. Of all the many men and dragons I have faced during my lifetime, none of them can match your courage.”
Anelm stared at him, unimpressed. “I am not awed by your power. I do not fear you. I have fought you and won, and I will do so again if I must.” With that, she turned on her heel to leave, yet Rykeldan’s voice stopped her.
“Imagine what it could have been like—the two of us ruling Kellirothen together, side-by-side.” He took slow steps to approach her and cast Caleth a glimpse, expecting him to step forward and blast him away. However, Anelm did not move as Rykeldan came to her side and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “We were meant to be together.” He lowered his hands upon her shoulders.
As soon as his hands touched her, Anelm spun around, gripped him by his throat, and watched his eyes widen as she tightened her grip. She remained emotionless as she spoke to him with a cold, measured voice. “Whatever we were meant to be will never be because of the choices you made. If you touch me again, I will send you through the Procedure and kill you permanently.” With that, she released him and watched him bend over, heaving for breath. She looked down at him. Disgust dulled her voice as she growled, “Do not touch me again.” Then she turned, nodded to Caleth, and the two of them stalked out of the room.
Once they were out of Rykeldan’s presence and in the corridor, Caleth touched his sister’s arm lightly to get her attention. “Are you well?”
She shot him a fiery glare. “I. Am. Furious.” Then she tried to take several deep breaths to calm down, but it wasn’t easy. She gestured sharply to the door of the chambers. “He never learns! I want nothing to do with him!”
Caleth reached out and pulled his sister close to him, embracing her. He smoothed her hair even as she pounded her fist on his chest. “I know, I know,” he soothed her. Then he pulled her back at arms’ length and looked into her golden eyes. “I can get the Procedure prepared if you wish.”
Anelm shook her head as she pulled back from her brother. “Nay—not yet. We still have use for him in Serhon. But for now...” She sighed. “I need to be alone.”
Understanding, Caleth watched her turn and walk away, and then he shot a glare over his shoulder at the door. He hated Rykeldan so much, but there was nothing he could do about it, so he turned the other direction and went on his way.
32
Anelm stepped into the fighting arena and noticed the different Athorians watching a sparring match. With her curiosity piqued, she looked into the arena and saw a kelliph standing with intense concentration as he manipulated with his hands the image of a man, who fought with none other than Vixen.
The apparition lifted his blade to block Vixen’s high attack, but at the last second, she swooped around his parry and cut straight through his torso. The apparition vanished, and the Athorians cheered.
Vixen stood, sweating from the workout but not even breathing heavily. She glared at those gathered around her. “Will no one actually spar with me?” Shaking her head, Vixen moved to retrieve a knife she had thrown.
As she reached for it, she saw the boots of someone approaching her, and she looked up to see Anelm. Vixen narrowed her eyes but gave the princess a nod, acknowledging her, but then Vixen straightened and sheathed her weapons on her vest. She glanced around at all who watched, and she spread out her arms. “I am disappointed with the lot of you! You are all magic users. Surely you stand a chance against me!”
“They fear your vest.” Anelm motioned to the vest of black blades Vixen wore. “It was forged from the same metal as the handblades, was it not?” When Vixen confirmed this with a nod, Anelm went on, “If you stab one of them—if they are a true kelliph, then that blade will kill them...regardless of how many extra lives they had. It will drain them of all their lives immediately.”
Vixen scowled at her. “I wasn’t intending to kill anyone...stab them in the hand or the shoulder maybe, but not fatally.”
Anelm nodded as she explained, “One cut from those blades will drain a magic user of their power—maybe not completely, but the longer the blade cuts into them, the more will be drained until they are completely stripped of their power. That is what Lorrek did to Roskelem and Verddra.” She paused when she saw the dark glare Vixen sent her when she mentioned Lorrek, and Anelm tilted her head to the side.
Then the princess looked to the others. “Leave us.”
They looked disappointed but bowed to their princess and shuffled away.
Once they were gone, Anelm went to the side of the arena and selected a sword and a spear then returned to Vixen, tossing her the sword. “I will spar with you as long as you do not use your blades.”
Vixen caught the sword with ease and weighed it in her hand. It had been a while since she had used a normal sword. Her preferred weapons were throwing knives, but a blade of any kind would do. However, she was a bit surprised by Anelm’s weapon of choice. “A spear?” Vixen raised her brows, impressed, as she adjusted her grip on the sword and began to move around Anelm.
Anelm twirled the spear until she had it locked behind her right shoulder with its tip pointing up. She smiled at Vixen’s and spread out her other hand. “Surprised?”
Vixen shook her head. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you with a weapon. I would expect you to use magic when you have to fight, like Lorrek does.”
“Even magic users should know how to use common weapons, although it isn’t very often I get to practice, so I may be a bit rusty.” Anelm twirled her spear then lunged for Vixen, who sidestepped, blocked the wooden handle with her arm, and then thrust her sword at Anelm.
Anelm twisted her torso and watched Vixen’s blade slide past her body. It was close, but not on target. She shifted her gaze to Vixen and smiled, then began to move.
The two women moved fluidly. Anelm stabbed her spear at Vixen, but the assassin parried then riposted. Anelm blocked the attack and spun, then tried to come at Vixen from another angle. At times Vixen hastened her attacks, forcing Anelm to go on the defense and be driven her back, but soon the kelliph found her footing, stood firm, and pushed back.
Back and forth the two exchanged control over the match, until finally they locked weapons and took the opportunity to catch their breath as they strove against each other. Vixen decided to ask a question that had been on her mind. “So...now that Rykeldan is back, does that change anything?”
Anelm narrowed her eyes. “About what?” She stepped back until she was out of Vixen’s immediate range of attack.
Vixen shrugged as she straightened her posture. “About you. About him. Then there’s the whole broken Dragon Prophecy—”
“The Dragon Prophecies were nothing but a lie. They were invented by the dragons to control us,” Anelm said sharply. “The dragons and the kelliphs are the only two races with exceptionally long lives, but the dragons have always been a bit more mortal than us.”
Vixen furrowed her brows when she heard this, but she hadn’t come here to hear a history lesson. Instead, she attacked Anelm, who quickly brought her spear up and deflected the swift fury of attacks—one after another, after another, after another until suddenly the tip of Anelm’s spear found its way through Vixen’s guard and nicked her cheek.
Vixen stepped back and touched her cheek. Feeling warm liquid, she withdrew her hand and looked to see blood on her fingertips. Then she smiled at Anelm, ignored the cut, and resumed her stance. “I’ve heard of the mythol
ogy of dragons—large, scaled beasts with wings and the ability to breath fire. Is that what they were like?”
Anelm chuckled. “Yes and no. There were two kinds of dragons—the Ancient Ones and the Hybrids. The Ancient Ones could grow to be massive in size, and they could shape-shift into any form. They often shape-shifted into human form in order to better communicate with humans and the kelliphs. In their human form they even bred with humans, and this created the hybrids. The hybrids’ original shape is human, but eventually something will trigger their transformation, and they take on their unique dragon form, and then they can shift back and forth between the two forms. However, while the Ancient dragons could take the shape of anything, hybrid dragons could only shift into human form. The key way to identify a dragon in human form way by their dark hair and how tall they are.” With that, Anelm struck at Vixen with her spear again, but Vixen parried.
“Are there any dragons still alive?” Vixen lunged at Anelm, who sidestepped then moved to whack the assassin on her back with the handle of the spear, but Vixen dove out of the way, tucking herself into a roll, and came back to her feet.
As the two of them continued sparring, Anelm explained, “Dragons can only die if they are killed. This is why the kelliphs and the dragons coexisted for such a long time. Kelliphs can die but have multiple lives, and each time we revive, our bodies regenerate so we are in our prime, and we don’t age as humans do.” Anelm shook her head as she reflected upon the short lifespan of humans. It was a marvel to her. However, a slight nick on her arm brought Anelm back to the present moment, and she realized Vixen had scored a hit and that her bicep was bleeding.
Anelm looked at the blood trickling down her arm and then glanced back at Vixen, nodding with respect to her. Swirling her spear to bring it on guard again, Anelm resumed her explanation. “All the Ancient dragons are dead. Their carcasses form the Black Mountains of my homeworld. When they die, they turn into black stone. The Black Stone that Gremina claims to have, that this city is made from...the stone is the heart of an Ancient dragon. The hearts were carved out of their chests shortly after their deaths. Even in death, the heart itself takes on the likeness of a stone, but once it is set on the ground, it can craft full cities, and it responds to magic.”
The Chronicles of Lorrek Box Set Page 102
