CHILD OF DESTINY (The Rising Saga Book 1)

by M. K. Adams

  Rosey seemed to understand. “Okay, child, but if you ever change your mind then The Cat and Dog will always have an open door for you.”

  Rosey placed a warm palm on Lyvanne’s cheek and with a sympathetic look in her eyes she said her farewell and went off to tend to the morning prep and cleaning. It wasn’t long before others started to join Lyvanne downstairs and soon after that it was finally time for her to fetch her belongings and to say her goodbyes.

  The two groups had gathered outside of the tavern entrance. Only two others had chosen to go with Jocelyn. The tall woman with olive skin had chosen to go further North than even Astreya, claiming that she had family near the Northern shores who she needed to help escape before war claimed their land, and an old man of similar descent to Lyvanne who claimed that he couldn’t stand by and watch the city he grew up in turn itself into a battlefield.

  Everyone had said their goodbyes, ready to depart in their own directions. All but Turiel and Jocelyn who now stood a few feet apart from one another. The others had moved on, opting to make sure that everything had been properly packed as the groups made final preparations, and incidentally giving the two sometime alone. But Lyvanne wasn’t feeling so generous and watched on quietly from a nearby stone wall which surrounded the tavern.

  “So, I guess this is it for a while?” Turiel asked as the two took a step closer together.

  Jocelyn was one of the strongest people Lyvanne had ever met, but right now even she seemed vulnerable to the world. “Just make sure it’s not too long okay?” Jocelyn replied as Turiel nodded. “And keep me updated on what’s happening. Write to me as often as you can, I’ll need to know if you’re starting a war without me,” she joked.

  Not being able to contain himself, Turiel let out a small chuckle and sigh before reaching out and taking Jocelyn’s left hand. “I’ll write as often as I can. Make sure you and Sinjin stay out of trouble, okay? If Tyberia manages to get off the beaches, make sure you get out of Astreya as quickly as possible. I don’t care who you have to leave beh -

  Jocelyn broke him off by planting her lips firmly on his. Lyvanne blushed and considered turning away, but it was as if she was trapped in a trance and she remained still. Jocelyn brought him in tightly with her one good arm and Turiel reciprocated by putting both his hands around her waist.

  “I’m sorry I have to leave you,” Jocelyn said as the two separated.

  “I’m sorry too.”

  Then it was over. The two placed their foreheads against one another for a brief moment before forcing themselves to let go. Jocelyn turned first, but not before blowing a kiss in Lyvanne’s direction, which she pretended to catch mid-air. Jocelyn broke into a quick walk and soon caught up to her two travelling companions. Turiel watched her walk away for a quiet moment before turning his back as well, both of them walking in different directions, each of them glancing back one last time to say their last goodbyes.

  Chapter 40

  Avagarde was a two-day journey according to Kwah, but those two days were very quickly beginning to feel like a lifetime to Lyvanne. Wanting to comfort her friend, she had started the journey by riding alongside Turiel. When it became obvious that he just wanted to be left alone, she’d given him the space he needed and drifted off towards the edge of the column.

  As their company began to draw closer to Avagarde, Lyvanne found that they were suddenly passing more and more fellow travellers. A merchant rode past in the opposite direction, a mule riding alongside with crates and sacks of cargo hung over its back.

  “I have wares if you have coin,” the merchant called out as they column of fighters passed him by, but much to Lyvanne’s shock he showed an obvious disgust for the Hemeti among the group and was quickly told to carry on travelling.

  Others they passed were even less polite. Lyvanne watched as Kwah had to physically hold Ronnoc back as a nobleman spat out of his gilded carriage at the sight of a Hemeti riding on horseback, something unheard of in Astreya. The nobleman’s driver had the good sense to speed up the horses when he saw that more than a few people in the column wanted to retaliate.

  “We should rest here for the night,” Kwah said as he slowed down his horse to come in line with the bulk of the column. Their unelected leader pointing towards a flattened out stretch of land to the side of the road, partially covered by a few isolated trees and a small rocky outcrop towards the edge furthest away from the road itself.

  The Spring did as they were asked and slowly began to move over in the direction of their camp for the night. The ground was well trodden and showed signs of travellers making frequent use of the area to rest on their way to or out of Avagarde.

  “I’ll start work on food before it gets too dark,” Oblib boasted as he dismounted his horse with his one good arm and immediately began to unpack some supplies from the saddle across his horse’s back.

  He won’t have much to choose from, Lyvanne thought as she dismounted her own horse and moved to tie it to one of the nearby trees. The Spring had bought what they could from Rosey, restocking on the essentials and resupplying their water rations, but they had been conscious not to leave the tavern owner empty-handed and tried where they could to live off the land. Rosey gave what she could afford to the rest of her village, and she sold goods at a cheaper rate to travellers than most merchants would. The Spring had always respected her for that. Elswhere they had bought from the villagers directly; a handful of horses in return for help in the fields, or what coin they could spare. Tools that would help them rebuild a camp one day, and the silence of those who weren’t locals and may let slip the knowledge of their direction.

  It didn’t take long for everyone to settle down for the night after they’d departed the road, and once a fire had been lit, it didn’t take Lyvanne long to realise that whilst many people had seemingly picked themselves up since the battle, there were still a number of people who were struggling with the reality of their new situation.

  Greyson had barely said a word since they left The Cat and Dog. He sat alone by the fire gently toying around with his lute. Others were quiet, or even isolated, but it was Turiel who worried her the most. Since they had settled down by the roadside, he had taken himself off towards the rocky outcrop towards the edge of their group and kept entirely to himself.

  “He’ll be okay,” Kwah said as he caught her staring out towards her friend.

  Lyvanne turned to face him. “What about you? You sound tired.”

  She didn’t think there was much point in being anything but truthful anymore. Kwah wasn’t the only one. They were all tired.

  “We’re soldiers, Lyvanne. It’s our job to be tired, tired until the fighting is done,” Kwah replied as he filled his plate with food and moved away.

  Lyvanne looked back towards Turiel. Like two souls inter-twined, she felt drawn towards him, a need deep within her to help him in some way. Fortunately Oblib and his insipid meal of brown bread, boiled potatoes, and some cheese that they had bought from Rosey offered her the opportunity.

  Grabbing two wooden plates and filling them both with a fair portion of food, she made her way through the darkness of the roadside camp, only illuminated by the flickering flames of the fire behind her and the dim rays of moonlight that were trying to break through a grey cloud overhead. The outcrop of rocks where she found Turiel reminded her of when they had gone out into the countryside together to train her mind to defend itself from a warlock’s advances. Unlike then, Turiel wasn’t as eager for the company this time.

  “I brought you food,” Lyvanne said quietly as she approached Turiel from behind. He was sat on top of one of the rocks and with two plates in her hands she didn’t hold out much hope of getting up to him. So, instead she waited. “I can wait down here all evening you know? Not like this stuff is going to go cold…”

  Turiel didn’t move.

  “I’ll eat yours if you don’t come down here,” Lyvanne lied as she tried to press her friend into making the first move.

  S
he looked back towards camp, wondering if there was any other way she could entice him back down, but quickly came to the conclusion that unless she could magically conjure Jocelyn from thin air then her chances were pretty slim. Determined not to give up, Lyvanne put down Turiel’s plate on a nearby rock and sat at the bottom of the outcrop. She chose to eat the potatoes before they went cold, not that she thought it would matter much if they did. Lyvanne shuffled around until she was comfortable and began to talk to her friend through her chewing.

  “She’ll be alright you know?” she started, trying to not to be too loud and disgusting as she spoke with her mouth full. “Jocelyn’s tougher than both of us combined when she wants to be.”

  Again, she received no response. She hated seeing Turiel this way, and it made her even angrier that she couldn’t do anything to help, not really. So instead, she settled for sitting below him for as long as she could.

  Back over in the camp, various people bedded down for the night. Kwah was further off towards the edge of the road, standing over the others, keeping watch as they settled down to sleep. She considered going and asking him for help with Turiel, but again she knew that he couldn’t fix the one thing that was bothering him most.

  “I’ll be okay,” Turiel said suddenly. His voice almost made Lyvanne jump, but she managed to restrain herself and quickly looked over her shoulder to see if he had moved. He hadn’t, but it was a start.

  “You sure?” She could just about make out Turiel nodding in the darkness above. The small gesture was more reassuring than she thought it would be.

  “She’s hard to let go of,” he continued as he stared out into the vacant world beyond. “Every time I think she’s going to be around for a while, something comes up and one of us has to leave.”

  “I’m sure she feels the same way,” Lyvanne replied, trying to be reassuring or at the very least somewhat comforting.

  “Did you definitely not see either of us in your vision?” Turiel asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Lyvanne said tentatively as she tried her best to recall the scene she had seen before her in the Throne Room. “It’s hard to tell because everyone was older…”

  Lyvanne trailed off, something had finally clicked. “Ronnoc,” She said faintly.

  “What about him?” Turiel asked, finally turning down to look at her.

  “Ronnoc was in my vision. That’s why I recognise him!” Lyvanne said with enthusiasm as she tried not to disturb the rest of the camp.

  Turiel swivelled and elegantly jumped down the rocky outcrop and landed beside Lyvanne. “You’re sure? He was in the throne room?”

  Lyvanne nodded as she tried her hardest to recall exactly what the two Hemeti she had seen in her vision looked like. “I’m pretty certain. I don’t know who the second Hemeti was, but one of them was definitely Ronnoc. He was sat around the table with me and the others.”

  Turiel ran a thumb across one of his facial scars, a habit Lyvanne had noticed him doing more of recently. “Don’t mention anything about this. It’s probably nothing, but if he’s important to The Spring and our future then I don’t want to scare him off by telling him you’ve seen his future.”

  Lyvanne nodded. It made sense, she thought, even if it was just a possible future it could be daunting to anyone knowing what might be in store. Turiel and her knew that better than anyone else.

  “Do you think -

  The pain was as crippling as it was sudden. Like a fire streaking outwards from her chest, it coursed all the way through Lyvanne’s body until it had entirely gripped her in an endless pulse of agony.

  “Lyvanne!” Turiel shouted as she fell limp against the floor “Lyvanne, what’s wrong?”

  She couldn’t answer; all she could do was focus on not passing out from the pain. In the distance the camp was stirring, people rising from their place of rest and Kwah sprinting over in her direction. Then everything was gone and her world turned to black.

  “Lyvanne!” Turiel’s voice was the last echo of the world she left behind as everything around her turned to flame. She knew where she was and she knew what was happening.

  “You’re stronger than you were before,” the voice rippled through towering flames as the shadowed creature stepped out into her line of sight. “Tell me… what is the name of the one who trained you?”

  Lyvanne resisted. She was encircled by flame and stood before her, no more than a few metres away was the same figure encased in shadow that had tried to her invade her mind before. “I won’t tell you,” She replied as she shifted onto her feet, standing before the enemy where once she had quivered.

  “You’re foolish to resist,” the shadow began to take strides in her direction. “Tell me who it was -

  “No!” she shouted, raising a hand into the space between them. “I won’t tell you their name… but I know yours.”

  The figure seemed taken aback by her assertiveness.

  “The man you sent to kill me, to kill my friends, he failed… just like you’re going to fail… Melruin.”

  The figure appeared confused, but the confusion was quickly replaced by a sickening grin. “So Kryan betrayed my name to you? It doesn’t matter,” The figure hissed as it began to circle around its prey. “For someone who has no connection to magic, I’ve never felt one so powerful. You should be working for the king, not against him.”

  Lyvanne laughed in the shadow’s face. “I would never work for the ling.”

  “So you seek to overthrow him?”

  “It’s become a recent hobby of mine, I guess.”

  “Then that -

  “It wouldn’t have been the case if the king wasn’t paranoid enough to look into the visions of others,” Lyvanne interrupted again, this time making Melruin visibly angry but deeming it worth the risk to have her point heard. “I was happy to have a normal life, to just help my friends where I could… but your king pushed me, he chased me away from them! It’s his fault that I am where I am now.”

  “And where would that be?” Melruin growled, his patience lost.

  “Among your enemies, and from what I hear… you have quite a lot,” Lyvanne growled back at her invader.

  Anger possessed Melruin’s form. “The king will never stop hunting you,” he said with venom. “You will never be safe. Your friends will never be safe. We will kill all who you love.” Melruin’s shadowy figure roared and soared in her direction. The pain in her chest magnified as the creature drew closer, the heat from the flames licked at her cheeks and the vast space beyond threatened to collapse in around her.

  Forcing herself to remember where she was and the power she held in this place, she brought her eyes forward to lock her gaze onto Melruin. “Be gone,” Lyvanne commanded calmly. The pain, the fear, none of it compared to the hope of knowing what world waited for them on the other side of war. None of it compared to the strength she felt when she recalled the voices and faces of her friends.

  The demon contorted in front of her, rippling like water and gyrating in every direction. The shadows began to fold in on one another, twisting inwards like layers as the flames that had encircled them began to float inwards, mixing with the shadows until all that was left was a chaotic blur. Melruin roared among the chaos as he fought to regain control, but it was too late, he’d underestimated her. An unearthly crack rippled through the air, louder than anything she had heard before and Lyvanne knew that Melruin was being cast from her mind.

  Just like that the flames, the invader who had caused her so much pain, the doubt and the worry, it had all gone. In an instant, Lyvanne had sent it all away, and now she was stood there in a void beyond worlds alone and unafraid. Where before there had been uncertainty and fear Lyvanne now found that she stood in the vast emptiness with a newfound confidence and belief. She didn’t know for sure, but she had felt how powerless Melruin had been to resist her, and for the first time she really believed that he might not deem it worth the suffering to try and invade her mind for information again.

&nb
sp; Taking a deep breath to calm and collect herself, echoes of voices began to filter in from the real world. Kwah asking if she was okay, Turiel explaining what he thought was happening and others further off into the distance. The lure of fresh air tugged at her, the real world was calling her back. She resisted, just for a moment. Tomorrow everything would change, she told herself, tomorrow they’d arrive at Avagarde and together they would take the next steps towards a better world.

  Lyvanne took in another breath. She wasn’t even sure if she was really breathing or if it was all just some part of the illusion, but it helped.

  “I’m ready,” Lyvanne said one last time as she cast herself back into the real world.

  Epilogue

  The continuous drip of water falling from the far end of the pitch black room was the only thing keeping Terravin centred. Drip. Drip. Drip. The continuous patter might have driven others into insanity, and if he was being completely honest, he wasn’t sure if he hadn’t lost all sanity a long time ago. The chaos of having no control over his mind had become the norm.

  The stone floor that Terravin knelt on was warm to the touch. The Northern lands of The Rive were hot all year round, and being locked away in a dungeon deep underground - so deep that on certain days he swore he could hear the clatter of the mines below - only added to the unbearable heat.

  A distant scream echoed through the corridor beyond the solid metal door that cut off his escape. Not a single ray of light escaped the corridor and into his cell, the vast slab of metal filling the void between the wall in entirety. When the cells had first been devised, the king had wanted to make sure that it was impossible for anyone to try and escape, let alone succeed. Warlocks had always been a handful, particularly when it came to imprisonment. Their magic required specific measures to combat, but it was nothing the king wasn’t used to by now. Terravin had dreamed of escaping in his first week or so in the cell, but that hope had quickly faded as he came to accept reality. The king and his minions were experienced at crippling even the strongest warlocks who might entertain the thought of opposing him. Either you conformed to your new way of life, or you would soon find yourself fed to the beasts that lurked the deepest depths of the mines, fiery and accursed.