CHILD OF DESTINY (The Rising Saga Book 1)

by M. K. Adams

  “As good a deal as I could expect, but first, the spell. Stand up,” Turiel said as he rose to his feet and raised his hands into the air. He angled them towards Lyvanne, and she flinched slightly out of fear he was about to attack her again.

  “Will this hurt?” she asked as she too stood.

  “No, just stand still.”

  Turiel closed his eyes, which didn’t fill Lyvanne with confidence, but she did as he asked and remained motionless. The white streams of magic began to flow out of Turiel’s body, a sign that Lyvanne now knew meant that a spell was strong enough to leave a mark on the caster’s body. His hands began to dance in intricate motions and slowly the magical streams moved across from Turiel to Lyvanne. She wanted to move out of their way, scared of their power, but she stayed still. The magic swirled all around her, and after a few minutes, they nearly entirely surrounded her. There was a bang and a burst of light then the magic vanished.

  “It’s done,” Turiel said as he fell down to one knee, clutching at his covered chest. The pain was etched across his face, and Lyvanne knew that the spell had cost him greatly.

  “Are you okay?” Lyvanne asked whilst carefully making her way over to him, cautious not to get too close.

  “I…will be,” he panted.

  “Let me help.”

  “Help me… downstairs.”

  Doing as he asked, Lyvanne lifted Turiel up by the arm and helped to carry him back down into the house. Once downstairs, she asked where his room was. She was surprised when he revealed that she had taken his the day she arrived. Knowing that fighting the issue would be fruitless, she resorted to resting him down on one of the chairs in the living quarters.

  “Thank you,” Turiel said as he slowly attempted to regain his breath.

  “No, thank you,” Lyvanne said, crouching down and taking his hands. ”You’ve done a lot for me based on some foreign notion that I’m going to save you all. I’m sorry that’s not who I am, but I want you to know that I am grateful for everything.”

  “You are most welcome, little one.”

  She found the pleasantries from both of them to be awkward and cringe inducing, but she knew no better way to express her thanks, so she just blushed, nodded her head and sat down on a chair opposite him. After giving Turiel a moment to recover, Lyvanne decided that this was as good a time as any for answers so she decided to do some more pressing.

  “If you think of me as some kind of hero, then why did you take me to the Accord? I could have been captured or killed.”

  “I had to be sure you were who I believed you to be. I had to see you under pressure. Also, I’d seen how you were with the people you lived with, and I genuinely wanted you to have the opportunity to steal something valuable for their betterment. Given that you didn’t have that chance, I’m truly sorry.” His answer seemed sincere, and it was appreciated.

  “So why did you run off without me?”

  Turiel laughed lightly. “I honestly thought you were behind me; I didn’t realise you’d been left behind. When I first realised that was the case, I blasted the two guards who were chasing me and went back to look for you but you’d vanished. I guess you’re better at escaping than I am.”

  There was a pan of broth bubbling over towards the other side of the room, left over from their meal at noon. Seeing Turiel was still suffering from the pain of his most recent spell, Lyvanne walked over to the pan filled a nearby bowl and brought it over to him.

  “Eat. Next time, perhaps leave the escape plans to me, okay?”

  Chapter 9

  As the days came and went, outside of the hours Turiel spent teaching her magic, and after the time spent learning how to block a warlock from entering her mind, Lyvanne started to spend more time with the others. The two were completely different by nature. Jocelyn was mature, confident, and carried herself with a certain gravitas that Lyvanne could only imagine having. Despite that, she loved the time they spent together. She found Jocelyn funny, and her constant quips about the stupidity of the men in her life were always amusing. Sinjin on the other hand was more serious. He was kind and caring, but often buried in his books or writing letters in a quiet corner of the house.

  “Can I try to read one of your letters?” Lyvanne once asked once whilst she had time alone with Sinjin. The Hemeti was doing his best to teach her to read, and by his accounts she was a good student, but that request caught him off guard.

  “They aren’t for you, Lyvanne,” He replied sharply. Seeing her take a step back he softened his stance and elaborated. “It’s too dangerous to tell you too much, at least until we’ve got you out of the city and away the king, okay?” He asked, putting down the reading material and placing a calm hand on her shoulder.

  It was refreshing being the least responsible in the group for once, but not having that responsibility did often lead her to missing those she left behind. Most nights she found herself sleeping with Oh’s toy soldier in the bed, and others she would wrap herself in the travelling cloak given to her by Abella simply for the comfort of what she had once considered home. Jocelyn noticed this side of her more clearly than the others, and the small ways that she tried to make Lyvanne feel better about it all was perhaps the reason that Lyvanne had gravitated towards her. Simple things like bringing her new clothes from time to time helped her feel like the child she’d never been allowed to be, and even if only for a few hours detracted from the looming threat of the king’s watching eye.

  This particular day was a rarity for Astreya; the sky had been darkened with clouds and rain fell heavy onto the ground for hours on end. In the last hour, thunder and lightning had even started to occupy the sky, creating sights and sounds that Lyvanne had never seen or heard before. She had sat in the doorway leading onto the roof watching everything unfurl until Turiel had found her and told her off for letting the landing get damp from the rain.

  Bringing her downstairs, he grabbed a tattered blanket from the kitchen and started drying her hair.

  “How are you supposed to bring the people together in rebellion if you can’t even dry a young girl’s hair?” Jocelyn said sarcastically as she watched Turiel flail around, not really sure of the best way to approach it. “Give it to me,” she continued before winking at Lyvanne and taking the blanket out of his hands.

  “At least I tried,” Turiel exclaimed innocently, holding his hands up in the air.

  “Stick to the magic lessons,” Jocelyn replied. Lyvanne couldn’t see her face as she dried her hair, but the grin on Turiel’s face was impossible to miss.

  Sinjin was out on business and for the rest of the evening the three of them just sat in the living quarters, talking, laughing and pretending to be scared every time the sky roared. It was the most fun Lyvanne had had in a long time, but just before it was time to retire to bed, it all changed.

  Someone knocked on the front door five times. The signal that it was safe to open, Lyvanne had figured out. Jocelyn went to open it, unbolting the numerous locks and opening it to find Sinjin, drenched from head to toe.

  “You look rather wet, brother!” she joked as Sinjin pushed past her and into the corridor.

  “Where’s Turiel?” He asked, ignoring her joke.

  Turiel didn’t waste any time and went to meet him in the corridor.

  “What’s the matter Sinjin?” He asked. Lyvanne had followed Turiel and stood slightly behind him, just within sight of Sinjin and Jocelyn who remained in the corridor.

  “The king’s soldiers, they’ve gone to Udnak’s home… searching for Lyvanne.”

  The three exchanged worried glances, but none of it made sense to Lyvanne. Why does it matter? she asked herself. As long as they aren’t coming here then I’m safe. Turiel didn’t waste time; he grabbed his own cloak that was hanging on a hook in the corridor and followed Sinjin back out into the pouring rain.

  “Lyvanne, stay here! Bolt the door and only open it if someone knocks five times,” Jocelyn said, holding out a hand to stop her from following before jo
ining the boys out in the rain.

  Lyvanne rolled her eyes. She knew the “five knocks rule” and didn’t need reminding like a child. But something didn’t feel right about letting the others go off on their own. Her instincts told her that she needed to look after them just like they did for her. Something like this had never happened during her stay here, but one thing was for sure, she wasn’t going to sit around and wait for them to come back.

  Quickly grabbing her cloak and tying it around her neck, Lyvanne made sure that she’d given Jocelyn enough time to put some distance between them. She couldn’t let her friend notice her following, but she couldn’t let her get so far ahead that she couldn’t keep up. Lyvanne opened the front door, brought her hood up over her hair as the rain began to lash against her face, and gave chase after making sure the door was firmly shut behind her.

  The storm made it difficult to keep an eye on where Jocelyn was and the direction she was heading, but it also meant that the streets were pretty quiet and that her footsteps couldn’t be heard as she ran to keep up with Jocelyn’s pace. It quickly became evident which direction they were heading in. Over the rooftops of the streets around her Lyvanne began to notice a plume of smoke rising high into the sky, and as Jocelyn ran down the twists and turns of the lower level the plume slowly grew closer.

  Between the claps of thunder, echoes of people shouting and the clang of steel rattled through the streets. Jocelyn vanished from sight as the twisting roads and rapture of noises took hold of the world. But Lyvanne wasn’t about to let that stop her; she’d grown up on the streets and if there was one thing it was good at it was this. Following the direction she’d last seen Jocelyn go, and using the plumes of smoke rising into the air as a marker she pushed onwards.

  Taking one last turn the street opened out into a cobblestone courtyard. At the far end of the courtyard was the largest fire Lyvanne had ever seen. Even in the stormy rains the heat radiated in her direction as the flames licked high into the night sky. The courtyard itself was filled with people, some of them in the colours of the city watch and others were part of the king’s army. Most were commoners, staring intently at the fire and even shouting abuse and throwing things in the direction of the city watch. Towards the back of the crowd she could just about make out Jocelyn, now stood by the side of Sinjin and Turiel.

  She knew she shouldn’t be here, it was dangerous for her to be around this many people, let alone the people who were out to look for her. But it was too late now and she wasn’t about to go back without finding out what caused the fire that was engulfing what appeared to be a small house. Deciding that it was safer for her to be near people she knew and risk their anger she moved over towards Jocelyn and the others.

  “Lyvanne!” Turiel scolded under his breath as he noticed her stood by their sides. “Go home, now!”

  Lyvanne just shook her head, her eyes never leaving the blaze in front of them “What’s happened?”

  “Lyvanne!” His voice sterner than she’d heard it before, “Go back.”

  She was being pulled in two. Part of her was telling her that Turiel was right. But she didn’t feel ready to leave yet; she wanted to see what had caused this. “I’m staying,” she replied, her voice calm and steady. She knew that he wanted to be like a big brother to her, that he only wanted to protect her, but she needed to feel free if she was going to stick around.

  All Turiel could do was gently let out a defeated sigh as he turned his attention back to the blaze. Seeing his silence, Sinjin answered for him. “The house belonged to a man called Udnak and his family; they had a small girl who fits your description. The king’s soldiers came; it was her turn to go to the castle for questioning, but they refused to give her up.”

  Despite talking in whispers there was an unmistakable anger in his voice that Lyvanne suddenly felt responsible for.

  “They wanted to take her?” she asked, not wanting to believe what she was being told.

  “Yes,” Sinjin nodded. “Been happening all over the city since your vision, young girls who could match your description being taken away to the king’s castle.”

  Lyvanne looked to Jocelyn and Turiel for confirmation, but their refusal to deny it was all that she needed to hear. Mouth agape, she turned back to the wall of fire that was dangerously close to igniting the neighbouring buildings, the heavy rain throughout the day perhaps being the only thing preventing such a scenario.

  Stood outside and closest to the wreckage were five of the king’s soldiers stood in a semi-circular formation preventing anyone from approaching the burning building. They were the recipients of any objects being thrown from the crowd. At the tip of the formation was one of the king’s criers, dressed in decorative robes that swayed wildly in the wind.

  “Let this be a lesson to you all!” the crier shouted, his voice struggling to carry over the noise of the storm. “The king is searching for a traitor to The Rive, a villain of the worst kind. If your child is called for questioning then you would be doing them and yourselves a disservice by trying to halt the king’s justice”

  Lyvanne could hear shouts of dissent from within the crowd, but no one seemed willing to take any further action.

  “Do not worry, the innocent have nothing to fear. This family sought to hide away their offspring, to what end is yet to be determined. If their child is the one the king seeks then your trials shall be at an end and you may return to your lives, if she is not then…”

  Lyvanne stopped listening. The man had a long and sharp face; he was short and anything but imposing. He had the look of one that she would not associate well with and took the thunder that interrupted him as an opportunity to turn her attention to her friends.

  “Turiel, what happens to the children they take?” She asked, hoping he would answer. When he didn’t, she turned her attention to Jocelyn.

  “From what we understand, their warlocks have ways of getting information out of people, a kind of magic that leaves no physical scars on the victim but causes great mental anguish.” She chose her next words carefully, “some of the children have returned from questioning weaker than when they left, but they’ll be alright. Others have not been so fortunate; their minds are weak due to age or illness and they have not returned as the same children who left.”

  Lyvanne thought back to Lira. What if they had found her? What if they had taken her in? Oh and Abella wouldn’t be able to look after themselves and would she have been alright? She couldn’t bear to think about Lira being put through such pain because of her. She wanted to go back, to find them, and bring them with her, but she knew that wasn’t possible and the reality hurt. Her attention snapped back to the crowd who had suddenly started voicing their anger in unison.

  “What did he say?” she asked as she turned to Turiel and Sinjin who had both balled up their fists, appearing only moments away from taking action against the soldiers.

  “Jocelyn, take Lyvanne home now,” Turiel said without removing his gaze from the king’s crier.

  Without needing to be told twice, Jocelyn put her arm on Lyvanne’s shoulder and guided her away from the crowd and back towards the house.

  “No, I don’t want to go back. What happened?” Lyvanne pressed.

  Jocelyn looked as though she was contemplating whether to tell Lyvanne, but something clearly made her decide that it was best not to hide these things from her. “Udnak and his wife were still in the house when they started the fire.”

  Lyvanne broke down. She cried for the rest of the journey home. She couldn’t shake the feeling that these people had died because of her. Not for a cause that they believed in, not because they had made enemies of the wrong people, but because they didn’t want to give away their daughter when it should be her who was taken in by the king. Because of her the king had created another orphan, another orphan for the streets of Astreya to swallow whole.

  Jocelyn opened the door to their home, waited for Lyvanne to walk through, and then bolted it shut behind them.

/>   “Please don’t leave my home empty and unlocked in the future, Lyvann,e” Jocelyn said before turning to the younger girl and realising she was still crying. “Come here.”

  Jocelyn brought the girl in close and squeezed her arms around her tight.

  “It will be okay,” she said, her shoulder length brown hair dripping water onto the top of Lyvanne’s head.

  “I didn’t want any of this,” Lyvanne said between whimpers.

  “None of us do, little one,” Jocelyn said as she ran a hand through Lyvanne soaked and matted hair. “We’ve all seen trauma, that’s why some of us have chosen to fight for what we believe will be a better world, to stop nights like tonight.”

  Things were finally starting to make sense to Lyvanne; she was beginning to understand why The Spring fought for a new world. Her mind wandered back to her dream of buying her way out of Astreya, of settling down, leading a quiet life with her savings. She wasn’t ready to entirely give up on that dream yet. She wasn’t ready to join their ranks, but understanding was a start.

  “You may not be one of us, but regardless you will need to be strong. Can you be that for me?”

  Lyvanne nodded her head.

  “I need you to promise me, little one.”

  “I promise.”

  • • •

  Turiel and Sinjin exchanged worried glances. The fires were ripping further into the sky and if something wasn’t done soon, there was no telling if the rain would be enough to hold it at bay and to stop it spreading.

  “Go find others,” Turiel said as he placed a firm hand on Sinjin’s shoulder. “I’ll stay here and do what I can.”

  Sinjin nodded and darted off into the darkened streets they had just come from.

  “I leave you now,” The king’s crier continued to the crowd. “Let the ruins of this house remain as a warning and a promise. The king will not abide criminals, but if you live within his laws then he shall be… generous.”

  Turiel balled his hands into fists, and his arm started shaking with adrenaline. Do something, he told himself, do something now. The magic had begun to course through his veins, flowing freely through his body until it reached his fingers. No, I can’t. He told himself. If I reveal my powers now, I would be throwing away all I’ve worked for. The magic receded and any chance of saving his friends from the fire, he knew, was lost.