by K.N. Lee
There were few towns scattered throughout the desolate area, where the people were timid and bowed their heads as Kavien passed by.
The time for waiting was at an end. Auroria was the final target, and Kavien lead his army of troops across the dry red soil.
Supplies followed the procession in covered wagons, and hordes of citizens joined the march, composed of healers, and mages, and anyone with any talents that could assist in the inevitable war to come.
His face was set in determination. It was a long journey to the icy northern lands of Auroria, but he would not rest until they were there.
He sat up tall and looked down at his men. They were all in their armor and walked at a steady uniformed pace. He nodded with pride. Kavien remembered when he was a boy and his mother would make him train every day. He also remembered Dragnor, always there in the shadows, keeping quiet and unseen.
His mother had been as beautiful as she was ruthless, and she had loved him. He missed that love. Now, there was no one left to love him. There had been a faint hope that Lilae would change that fact. The bitter truth was that he was wrong.
Those memories of his mother however, would always be there to comfort him. She had rich honey colored skin and long black hair that she always wore in braids. Her circlet was made of gold and intricately adorned with tiny jewels that made it sparkle, even at night.
Even though Manna was his nanny, his mother never neglected to sing to him before bed. Despite her affection when they were alone, she would remain stern in sight of others. She was a warrior queen who would beat him if he showed any disrespect. Still, her eyes were always full of love for him. Kavien shook his head as he thought of her. He never quite understood his mother.
“They look ready,” Sona said, nodding to the soldiers. “We might have a chance.”
“They’re my soldiers,” he said, lifting a brow. ““What did you expect? A bunch of fools running around in makeshift armor and sticks? Of course, they are ready.”
“It was meant to be a compliment,” she said, narrowing her eyes.
She rode beside him, keeping pace. Her hair was pulled straight back from her face and braided into one long braid. He glanced at her, still not used to how she glowed. Somehow, since they’d first met, her glow began to dim.
There was something different about her, but he didn’t care enough to inquire.
Kavien gave a hesitant nod. “Very well. I will accept.”
He wasn’t always certain when her words were laced with sarcasm or indeed genuine. Searching her eyes, he saw truth within them.
“Always so serious,” she said, with a laugh. “When will you learn to enjoy your role as ruler of the entire world of Ellowen?”
“When I actually am ruler of the entire world,” he said. “I do not get ahead of myself, like some.”
Sona glanced at him, and wiped her face with a rag. “Such a shame the little Legacy was killed in Runfell,” she said, and reached into the saddle pack. She drank a swig of water. “I’d hoped to present him as a gift.”
She put a hand on her stomach and looked to the sky.
Dragnor flew ahead on his wyvern, scouting and making sure they continued to travel the right way. Out of them all, he was the only one who had been to Auroria before. Though it had been twenty years ago when he had arrived too late to kill Lilae in her infancy, he still knew the way.
Kavien mulled over her words. “It doesn’t matter. We have the dragon.”
She nodded, and smiled at him. “That, we do. And, we will use it to burn Auroria to the ground.”
24
Having bought horses from Hansburg, Lilae and the others rode for days through the Aurorian forests.
Her hands were chilled, but she pressed on, holding onto the reigns and keeping pace along the worn path that stretched from the west gate of Hansburg toward the Imperial City where the palace awaited.
She kept her gaze fixed ahead, hypersensitive to the sounds and shifts in movement on either side of the road, where the forests were thick and darkened by heavy canopies composed of branches, ice, and leave.
The ground below was white, with scant traces of dark roots.
“Nearly there,” Nani said, flying back down to the group from the sky. “I went a few miles ahead and found that there are sentries and strongholds along the path.”
“Seems these Aurorians have spent quite some time fortifying their cities, and villages,” Rowe said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Risa nodded. “Our people have been mastering both offensive and defensive tactics since the beginning of time. We aren’t the last free people in Eura without reason.”
Lilae exhaled, unable to get Kavien’s image and voice out of her head. She frowned. “Still, Kavien is Wexcyn’s pawn. He will do whatever it takes to find a way into what has been closely protected for ages.”
“Of course,” Rowe said. “He can try. But, we’ll be ready.”
Lilae smiled at him, still pained by the thought of having to face the emperor in battle. “Yes, we will.”
She looked ahead, haunted. Kavien had shown her so much about her own heart, and taught her things she wouldn’t have learned if she hadn’t been enslaved by him.
Branches crackled in the trees to her right. Lilae tensed, stopping the horse.
Pausing, she scanned the forest and heightened her senses to listen for anything unusual.
To her surprise, a little girl emerged from the woods, dressed in heavy cloaks, and carrying a rag doll.
Her face was pale as snow, and silver eyes looked up to Lilae.
Long, silver hair flowed from her head in waves, and as it rustled with the wind, Lilae noticed a distinct point to her ears.
Breathless, and stunned, she sat up straight.
“Silver elf,” Liam said.
Lilae lowered herself from her horse, and stood before the child. She stiffened as more came from the trees.
She watched them join the child, carrying their belongings on their backs in packs. Lilae had never seen a woman as beautiful as the mother, with her long silver hair that bordered on snow white, and reflected the light of the waning sun. For a moment, she was stunned by her beauty, and captivated by the slight glow to her eyes. Still, there was a weariness to her face. Their clothes were covered in snow and dirt.
With bright eyes, and weary looks on their faces, Lilae could feel their fear.
“They’ve come from Alfheim,” Nani said, standing beside Lilae. “They’ve left their homes to escape with Wexcyn has set in motion.”
“Auroria is the only safe place for all of us,” Jaiza said. “Until we defeat the Imperial Army.”
Lilae nodded, and knelt before the little Silver Elf girl. She gave her a kind smile, and reached for her. “Hello,” she said.
Hesitant, the girl glanced at Lilae’s hand. She turned to look at the tall elves who seemed to be her parents, and to the teenaged boys behind them.
They gave her a nod, and kept their gazes fixed on the assortment of races before them.
“You’re safe now,” Lilae said.
The girl placed her hand into Lilae’s and returned the smile.
“The Elder,” the mother said. “Sent us here. She is leading us all to this place.”
Lilae’s heart soared. “Delia.”
The mother nodded. “Yes, that’s what she said her name was. I’m Sera. This is my daughter Keata, our sons Madagan, Lorgan, and Ordum. And, my husband, Drevick.”
Standing, Lilae took them all in. Her heart filled with such hope that she could barely contain her joy.
This was what they were fighting for.
They were bringing races together who hadn’t seen each other since Ellowen’s creation. Not only were they bringing them together, they were protecting them, to usher in a future of peace, where families didn’t have to flee for their lives.
“Our home was destroyed,” Sera said. “By a Tryan woman.”
Nani gasped, and grasped Lilae’s
wrist. Then, she looked up to Liam.
“Sona,” she said. “It had to be Sona.”
A wave of nausea washed over Lilae at the name. She’d never met the woman, but just the mention of her name left her with an unease that she couldn’t shake.
She glanced at Liam, whose face went pale, and with a tightened jaw.
“She rode a black wyvern, and destroyed our defenses, took out dozens of men,” Drevick said.
“By herself,” Lorgan added, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
Lilae shook her head, still fighting the urge to vomit at the mention of Sona’s name. There was something in it—something in her energy—that she could sense from however far away they were from one another.
All she knew at that moment, was that she was coming.
Sona was coming.
And, Lilae would be ready.
25
She always sang in the mornings, a song that Wilem still remembered, even in his dreams.
Mother was the most beautiful Tryan in all of Raeden in Wilem’s eyes, and now that he could see her face again, he regretted ever giving her trouble. She was queen, but to him, she was his favorite playmate—the only one who truly understood him.
Memories of jumping out of her wardrobe to give her a scare returned. He’d wake up early, creep into her dressing room, and hide until the perfect moment. Though he gave her a fright, she’d always laugh in the end, and tickle him until he begged her to stop.
In this dream, he prepared to pounce when she opened the doors, and caught him into her arms.
“Wilem,” she said, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. She pulled back, and held him out at arm’s length.
For a moment, Wilem wasn’t so certain if this was a dream or not. There was fear in her eyes, but all he wished to see was the reflection of love that was within his.
“Mother?”
She stroked his cheek. “Do not fear the darkness, Wilem. But, know it, bring light to it. Fight what is coming, with the power we’ve passed to you.”
He frowned. This was not the dream he wanted to have.
“There is more inside of you,” she said, and kissed his forehead. “Than you know. But, it will reveal itself. It will show you the way. Call out to the dragons, Wilem.”
“But, Sona took my dragon,” he said, and he realized that this was not a memory. It was not a dream.
She nodded. “Yes, she has. But, there are others who have been asleep for far too long. You have the power to awaken them. Do this,” she said, and pointed to his heart, pressing her finger into his chest. “And, you will truly be king.”
He tilted his head. “King of what? Of who? Everyone is gone.”
She smiled, and stood, her image beginning to fade.
“King of dragons, Wilem,” she said. “King of dragons.”
Wilem awakened to darkness.
King of dragons?
Her image remained in his mind, as did her voice. What did she speak of?
Could it be true?
He shot upward. The darkness was so thick that even when he sat up and gasped for air, his eyes refused to adjust.
This heart thumped in his chest, and the sound of it in his ears was maddening.
Though the darkness was stifling, there was another sound that made him stiffen and listen.
The buzzing noise filled his ears, and continued to grow louder and more intrusive within his mind.
“Hello,” a voice said. The voice came from somewhere within the dark.
Swallowing against the dryness in his throat, Wilem scanned his surroundings, hoping to have his vision clear.
“Who’s there?” Wilem asked.
Bright light shone from the pitch black before him. Wilem shielded his eyes, and gasped as the light assaulted all of his senses, lifting him from the ground, and holding him immobile.
When the light’s glare dimmed, he opened his eyes. Blinking away spots, he beheld the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.
With glittering wings, olive-colored skin, and eyes the brightest shade of blue, she was unlike anything that had ever crossed his path.
She held a staff, and wore a silver cloak that reflected the world around them. It flickered and displayed the forest, making whatever it cloaked invisible beneath it.
Still held in the air, before the creature with pointed ears, a tiny nose, and pink lips that spread into a smile, he fought to keep his wits about him.
Perhaps this was the dream.
“You’re not dreaming, Wilem,” she said. “You’re very much awakened.”
Then, she turned her gaze downward and cast her light onto an army of goblins, and the beings who had shot their bows and arrows at the camp of Imperial soldiers.
“What is happening?” Wilem asked, terrified. “Who are you?”
She smiled at him, and flew across the space that separated them.
“I am the spirit of the Great Mother,” she said. “Mother of fairies.”
His brows lifted.
With a raise of her hand, Wilem watched as she pulled someone from the ground below and lifted him to her side.
In armor, there was Jorge.
“And, this is your protector.”
Frowning, Wilem looked to Jorge who no longer seemed as fearful as he once did. There was a certainty in his eyes, and a fire Wilem always knew was there but hadn’t seen shone so brightly.
“Always has been,” she said. “Always will be.”
Straightening his shoulders, Wilem looked from Jorge to the Great Mother.
“The goblins fight for the light, Wilem, and the archers are humans I’ve blessed with fae powers. They will lead you to Lost Providence.”
“Lost Providence?” Wilem asked.
She nodded, and shrugged off the cloak of invisibility. “Yes, take this, wear it, and travel by the map traced on the inside.”
He accepted the cloak and put it on.
A wave of cool air lifted from the inside and soothed his frazzled nerves. For once, he was at peace again. It had been so long since he’d felt such ease. He closed his eyes, savoring it.
“And, what will I find in the Lost Providence?” Wilem asked, as she lowered him and Jorge down to the army of goblins.
“The sleeping dragons,” she said. “Awaken them. Lead them. Destroy the coming darkness.”
26
It seemed Lilae had been waiting for this moment her entire life.
To be home, with her mother, and her people had never seemed possible.
Yet, here she was, prepared to make her deepest wish come true.
Lilae entered the large double doors of the palace, guarded by armed soldiers.
As she walked into the palace, her heart pounded.
To get to this one place—to this moment—she’d lost more than she’d bargained for, and had seen things and suffered atrocities most would never dream of.
The air was still, cold, and she could barely breathe from the tension tightening her chest.
Torches lined the dark, stone walls, and tapestries hung high up. Portraits of her ancestors peered down at her from framed artworks, their red hair vibrant and pale skin a stark contrast.
She led the way. This was her ancestral home, yet it felt foreign. She couldn’t imagine growing up in such a place where strange people filled the corridors in their elaborate gowns and makeup that altered their faces so much that they hardly looked human.
Perhaps it was a fashion in Auroria to resemble the fairies of the old stories, for many of the women painted shimmering colors on their brows and lips. It was unlike anything she’d ever seen, and she’d traveled nearly the whole of Eura with Delia and her surrogate family.
Once they crossed the main hall and turned into a room directly through an archway to the right, the ceiling was lowered, yet the room stretched longways. The red and gold crest and banners of the Black Throne stood at every narrow window that let in slivers of sunlight that highlighted the dust in the
air.
She swallowed when she saw him, sitting there at the edge of his seat.
King Ayaden sat on his throne, watching her with eyes of wonder.
Did he remember what she’d done for him? She hoped that would save them from imprisonment, or worse.
Death.
Months ago, she’d helped him escape Emperor Kavien’s palace. It had been a risky move, yet she’d thought it was worth it.
The guards stood close, the smell of steel lingering int he air, and the creaking of their armor. Hands on the hilts of their swords, it was clear that they were prepared to strike out if given the order.
She swallowed, palms sweaty, but eyes and chin up. So much had happened since her last meeting with her brother. She’d nearly died. If things went poorly, she knew that she and the others would find their way to safety.
Her eye twitched once she got a good look at the beautiful young woman at his side.
His wife?
Bright green eyes looked down on her as if she was a speck of dirt in her satin slippers. Her hair fell in red ringlets around a delicate, heart-shaped face of unblemished creamy, white skin.
Dressed in a gown that matched her eyes, she was the epitome of elegance. Yet, her glare was cold and left Lilae shuddering under her gaze.
Ayaden glanced to her, and she whispered something to him, before leaning forward for a more quizzical look at Lilae’s face.
He nodded, and stood. “Lilae,” Ayaden said, outstretching his arms. He took the stairs down to her—and to her surprise—placed his hands on her shoulders and searched her face.
“Welcome home.”
Her voice caught in her throat as he pulled her in for a hug.
This was not the Ayaden she remembered—the one who called her an actress.
Warnings bubbled in her stomach, but she put on a smile and looked him in the eyes. The eyes always told the truth, and Ayaden’s smile did not reach his. Within the brilliant green that matched hers, she saw treachery. There was no love, or respect in his gaze, and it turned her stomach with dread.
“I’ve been expecting you,” he said.
