“Is something wrong?” Molaris questions her voice is poison in the air and I look between Lunan and Molaris. She doesn’t want to make it obvious, but she is blatantly uncomfortable with the sight of Lunan. His Fae scent must be bothering her because it floods into my nostrils like a river dam breaking.
“What will I eat, Your Majesty?” His voice is like the rays of sun heating my skin. His golden eyes look to Molaris and a flicker of his irises tell me he is uncomfortable with her presence as well. He is a smart man for pointing out the danger in the room. Well we are all dangerous when I come to think of it.
“Tyrion, why did you bring the Faerie?” Scout asks openly in front of Lunan like he isn’t there, but he is the elephant in the room. “He is nothing, but a distraction.” You’re telling me. For once I am glad that the attention isn’t on me.
Tyrion doesn’t look away from me and I try to look everywhere else, but my eyes don’t listen and I stare back at him, in silent battle. “Lunan is the High Lord of the Day Kingdom and he brought some very special news that I thought would be best if it were shared from his lips.” His voice fills the room. My heart picks up to a thrumming beat as all of the attention is dragged to Lunan. This isn’t going to be good.
Now feeling as if he has to share, which he kind of does, he stands from the table and taps a knife against his goblet. When every pair of eyes is on him, he looks into his glass and promptly places it down with a frown. I look into my own cup and notice maroon liquid, that I doubt is wine.
“This past summer the Tree of Light was chopped down,” Everyone gasps except for Tyrion and although I already knew of this, the words coming from someone else makes it shocking. I felt the shockwave of death radiate from the Tree this summer when I was still in Duke Rywell’s cellar. The destruction of the Tree of Light stopped the mountain ash, laced in my shackles, to stop burning and I was able to free myself. I know that the Tree collapsing is devastation, but I need to thank whoever did it because their act led to my freedom. “The crime was committed by Evaflora Vox, High Lady of the Summer Kingdom, and also my mother.” Everyone roars in a horrifying chorus. The courtiers hiss and seethe and why he added the last bit of information beats me, but I start to fear for him, until I notice Tyrion, smiling into his goblet as he sips the blood within. Lunan continues, louder this time to be heard above the hissing Vampyres. “Although Evaflora is my mother. I am not and will not be in partnership with her. She, on the other hand, is openly at brink of war with the mortal kingdom, now ruled by a Faerie, Equadoria. My sister is the queen and she is struggling against Evaflora and her forces.”
“Why does the war between a Faerie and a Mortal have to do with us?” Aaron asks from his seat and Molaris is shaking so violently that she doesn’t even sip the blood before her. She doesn’t put her hands in anyone’s line of sight as she stares down at her lap.
“You’re missing the point,” Tyrion chuckles. “The Mortal Kingdom is now ruled by a High Fae.”
“How did Equadoria allow an immortal to sit on the throne?” Scout is equally confused and I look to Acacius who looks just as curious as I do.
“She died as a mortal, killed by her father. The princess’ guard killed the king and the princess was reborn, as a queen, and a High Fae.” Lunan’s words crack like thunder through the dining hall. Everyone is silent with the dire news and I can tell I’m the only one who doesn’t understand the importance of these people. But the idea of a human being reborn as a Fae is just unimaginable.
Aaron and Scout stare dumbfounded. Tyrion is beaming with glee and ready to jump out of his skin with excitement. Molaris, on the other hand, grows enough strength to stop her tremble and now glares openly at Lunan and Tyrion. “This is a great deal of news, Tyrion.” She whispers. Her voice is like a thousand snakes hissing in unison, ready to strike, ready to kill. Lunan falls back into his chair and stares at me with shadows in his irises. I get the inkling that he isn’t here upon his own will.
“I had found this out when I arrived to Abella in search for news on the lands current status. I sailed south and was met by a servant boy, walking along the coast, who told me what had happened after I compelled him. My first thoughts drifted to the prophecy,” Tyrion drawls, waving his goblet around like a royal scepter. “Three Fae Druids unite together to defeat a common enemy. One can control flames,” Tyrion’s eyes glide over Lunan and quickly shift back to Molaris. “Another wields lightning.” Acacius shifts in his chair and my beating heart hasn’t calmed and instead gallops into a stuttering pound. My discomfort is obvious, well it feels obvious, as I keep a mask up of solemn features. I try to make it believable and as adamant as stone. Lightning threatens to erupt from my fingertips at the mention of my ability, so I sit on my hands. “Lastly,” Tyrion adds, many minutes later. “A mortal with immortal genes gets reborn as immortal will control the Void. The prophecy is unraveling before our eyes and we know where two pieces of the puzzle are. One is in right next to me and the second is in Equadoria, the third, is hidden somewhere on Abella waiting to be found.” What they don’t know is that the third piece is sitting right across from them. If I play my cards right, I’ll never be found.
Acacius explains the legend behind the prophecy in my mind. When the mortals learned of the immortal Fae and their powers, they became jealous and taught themselves to manipulate nature and control its growth and ways. Some of the humans were able to create balls of lightning through chants and rituals, or even make white-hot fire flow through the air. The use of such abilities isn’t made for their human bodies, so each time a Druid, their name, uses power it harms them. If the human’s take, they must give. The Fae became curious of their unique abilities and the Druids trained them, only three. The human druids were punished by death and the three immortals, named Fae Druids, were unstoppable. One controlled the lightning, another fire, and the third got selfish and continued the study of the druids and created a whole new type of ability that is only inherited by the prophecy. Only once every ten centuries are the three Fae Druids alive, and it seems, you are one of them. His voice drifts away and the ghost of his words echo throughout my skull.
You are one of them. I never stop hearing it. I am a Fae Druid. I’ve always known that my powers made me different from many other Tempestatis Fae. My parents had abilities that varied, but related to elemental control. My father could summon mist that would make him vanish and my mother could control and manipulate water. When they came together they created a storm. Or was my mother a vessel for the prophecy?
Lunan bore his eyes into mine and I just stare right back, a challenge. I will him to know, to understand what I am. A gleam reflects over his eyes and a part of me feels like he already knows.
“So, what do you plan to do with this information, Tyrion?” Scout questions, vulgar assumption between her words.
Molaris jolts as if pulled from her thoughts, I’ve never seen the queen so unsettled. I don’t get why the presence of Lunan has any effect on the situation at hand. Before he arrived with Tyrion, she was throwing me around like a ragdoll, controlling my blood, manipulating me at her will. She was strong and unyielding, but now, she is like a skittish animal who was hit too hard.
“I want the three pieces of the puzzle,” Tyrion muses, and his fangs glimmer beneath the ornate chandelier. His eyes, wrinkled at the corners, fall on me. I lift the goblet of blood to my lips, the crimson liquid sweet on my tongue. I can play this game. “I want the three druids and I want to join the fight. I want to take all of Abella in the grasp of my hands and let the centuries of Fae and human rulings end. A new power will rise and Vampyres will have their reign.”
The other three royals beam with excitement, even Molaris. Bitter cold trails down my spine and Acacius goes taut next to me. Lunan has the look of pure terror as he glances between the Vampyre kings, and queens, and at the rest of the grimacing courtiers. So many fangs reflect the light, feign smiles, evil intensions. They all whisper at the back of my mind as I stare at the ro
om crowded with fake, conniving monsters.
I want to run, I want to scream, but Acacius keeps me grounded as he grips my wrist beneath the table. My hands are still firmly placed beneath me and the other Vampyres wipe their clean faces, symbolizing they are done with the meal, which they have barely touched. I would’ve liked to admit I was hungry, but now any appetite I had has left this island and took a swan dive into the churning ocean.
The hollow eyes and pale skin become a sickening sight, so I shake Acacius’ grip off of my arm and rise from the table. Everyone looks at me with furrowed brows and I want to scream at them to look somewhere else. Keep their stares off of me.
“I didn’t give you permission to leave,” Molaris croons from her chair, hiding the unease that has become so constant for her since Lunan and Tyrion’s arrival.
I didn’t want to be a part of this Vampyre life and currently every part of me wants to be away from here, so I don’t stop the violent retort. “And I didn’t give you permission to manipulate my blood, but that didn’t stop you, did it?”
Tyrion howls in laughter and Lunan hides his grin. Scout and Aaron snicker behind their porcelain hands. Molaris hisses from her seat. A strand of her ivory hair falls into her eyes and she pretends that it doesn’t bother her. “We’ll be speaking later.”
“I’m jumping with joy at the thought,” I fire back and Acacius grabs my arm hard enough to bruise. A silent warning to stop, and even though I don’t want to be a part of the Vampyre court, Molaris is still my queen. I look to Tyrion who just grins in anticipation for what I’m going to say. “My name is Athena,” the answer to his question at the start of our dinner and I allow myself one more look over Lunan before I leave the dining hall and drop my white napkin over the black handprints burned into my chair. I pray nobody sees or else I am going to be a knight in Tyrion’s game of chess.
Chapter Fifteen
~Ariadae~
Kane is Jax’s brother, but it doesn’t stop the unease churning within the pit of my stomach. I have been betrayed too many times by the people close to me that I’ve become unaccepting of the intentions of strangers. I went through too much to be innocently assuming everyone is kind and helpful. Nobody cares about a stranger’s needs unless it benefits their own.
Although Jax and Kane appear very different from one another, I notice the similarities. They both walk with a warrior’s gait and both of them are…beautiful, yet I find my eyes catching on Kane’s wavy dirty blond locks and tanned skin. They both have angular jaws and high cheekbones, but Kane has a slimmer nose and sleek brow bone that makes a blush heat within my body despite the bitter cold. After the blizzard, the snow has become deeper, if it’s even possible, and much thicker. The flakes brush along my sagging arms and waltzing crystals still fall from the clear blue sky above.
His armor is white plaited leather and is sleeveless, exposing sun kissed skin and ink black tattoos. The gauntlets, chest plate, and boots of his outfit are lined with wolf’s fur and a longbow is strung across his shoulder blades. A long sword is sheathed straight down his spine. With his large amount of weaponry and bulging muscles, even bigger than Jax’s, I may not trust him, but they make me feel more than safe. I don’t scan the surrounding trees as we ascend Archaic Mountain.
“What are your tattoos?” I ask and nod my head towards his visible biceps.
He grins with a white toothed smile and looks down at his arm. “This one,” he points to the obsidian paint depicting an image of a howling wolf and dark swirls spiral from the animal’s mouth and fade into his shoulder beneath fabric. “Is part of The Proving.”
“What’s The Proving?”
“It’s a series of arena-style battles that prove that the heir’s abilities are strong enough to rule our kingdom.” His words dance with the falling snowflakes and I let it linger there, not wanting to seem too eager with my questions. I have never known anything about the Winter Kingdom culture because Jax doesn’t talk to me about his home.
“I know Jax gave up his title as Heir, but did he participate in the Proving?”
Kane looks back at me, his sea-green eyes filled with a gloom and his previous pretty smile is gone. “He didn’t give up his title. What made you believe such a lie?”
What? Jax told me he handed his title to his brother and became a warrior. After establishing his life in the Winter Kingdom as a warrior he ran through Elkwood Forest, down the mountain, only as a tiger pup, where my father stumbled upon him and brought him to me.
“He competed in the first three of the ten tests in The Proving,” Kane adds and I grow more curious as to what he is saying. Although this is very intriguing, it makes me wonder what else did Jax has lied about. “In the fourth test, he was supposed to…spill the blood of an innocent. It’s to show that even the strong can’t be weak when on the throne. He lifted the knife to the girl’s throat and dropped it to the ground. The entire court and Winter Kingdom was watching him.”
I pity him; the whole Kingdom must’ve been either furious or ashamed to have him as their Heir. I’ve learned over my time in Elkwood and inside of a Faerie Kingdom that their traditions and standards are so much higher and dangerous than mortal customs. Two courtiers who hate one another could tear each other to ribbons at a ball and the other Fae milling about won’t even mind it. That would be a good night for the Fae. Just that thought is sickening.
“What happened to him after that?”
“Well the kingdom and court were furious and so was our father. The High Lord decided to exile Jax from the Winter Kingdom.”
It all makes sense now. The running into Elkwood. The reason he said I gave him a purpose. It was all because he is an exiled prince left to nothing. He never left me in my years growing up and even inside of Elkwood, after he was hurt, he came back. But now that Jax is an exiled heir, stripped of a title, that makes Kane the new heir to the throne and he participated in the Proving. I think of the fourth test and if I would be able to do it. If it really came down to the fate of my kingdom I would, but otherwise I’m glad I am not an heir in the Winter Kingdom.
“Did you participate in the Proving?”
“Yes, and I completed every task,” his shadowed eyes burrow into mine. My gut twists at the idea that the last view the innocent he killed saw was those stunning eyes. I don’t know if killing an innocent being can be justified for ruling a kingdom. “I’m not the little kitten that Jax is.”
Kane’s words end all conversation for a long, long time. We walk through thick and thin snow and small rivers descending the mountain. Rocks are scattered around the river bank where we stop for a quick break. The monthly demon was roiling with a thousand claws, hollowing my insides. I’ll be fine in a short while. Kane waits by the flowing stream, crouching and staring into the glimmering water that looks like a thousand yards of iridescent tulle being shaken in rough winds. The pine which I do my business behind is extremely dry and it’s dying. It confuses me because the surrounding trunks are alive and damp from the snow. Even if a tree was dead it should at least be soaked because of the gale that had hit Archaic Mountain last night. I saunter around the trunk staring at the layered bark and don’t stop the gasp that escapes from me. Instantly Kane is on his feet, dagger drawn, moving towards me with a hunter’s approach. I point to the pine.
“What?” he whispers, thinking it’s a Forsaken, but when he gets closer he sees what I’m staring at. The bark, in a large dinner plate sized circle, is clawed away jaggedly revealing the white wood beneath. The vertical groves in the wood are stained with an onyx sap-like liquid seeping from a word carved into the trunk. Iris. That’s the part of an eye that holds the color. It’s spilling with the tarlike goop, with a high viscosity. It drips slowly like honey. “What is that?”
“An eye?” I suggest and he studies the tree. He grabs a twig from the rocks on the ground and pokes the dripping black. It glitters like a thousand stars and when he pokes the letter ‘I’ within the word, the dark sap slithers and begins to co
il onto the twig and up the wood, consuming it whole. “A new type of infection?”
Kane drops the stick before the night liquid can touch his skin. If it conquers and devours wood extremely quickly, I don’t want to know what it does to skin. He wipes his clean hands in the river and looks back at me, brow furrowed. “Maybe it’s a name.” I just shrug and put my fiery hair into a ponytail before tossing my quiver over a shoulder and string the bow to my back.
“I don’t know anybody named Iris, do you?” He ponders my words for a second, but just mirrors my shrug.
“Nope, it’s an ugly name anyway.” He says and I roll my eyes with a chuckle. I begin walking along the river, up the mountain. I notice the blue sky start bleeding to an orange, and I pray we reach the Winter Kingdom before night falls upon us. I’m not in the mood to be stuck here during night, with a Faerie I barely know, and the Forsaken haunting the surrounding woods.
“Will we make it there by nightfall?”
“Yes, but only if we move fast enough,” his voice makes a tremble start in my hands and legs, but I push past my fear and surge forward with a new found energy.
“Well even if night comes, we should continue moving. It’s not like we’d sleep much anyway.”
He looks at me, eyes glowing, and smile gleaming. “You’ve got a point there, Your Majesty.”
<<>><<>><<>>
Night arrived without warning. The canopy of pines above my head blocked out the setting sun, so as soon as I thought to look up, night was upon Kane and me. He pulled the hood of his cloak up, shielding my eyes from being blessed with the sight of his features. My favorite part about traveling with Kane is that he isn’t the snarky, cold, bitter Jax. Yes, Kane has a few sarcastic comments, but in all truth he is sort of funny.
“How is he?” My voice is loud in the silence of Elkwood forest, even on Archaic Mountain. Kane doesn’t look at me as he pulls at a loose thread bordering the edge of his cape.
The Reign of Queens: A Kingdom of Diamond Antlers Novel Page 13
