“Thank you, Myana, thank you.”
Myana smiled and looked back down at the tiny figure in Shaya’s hands. Jinx mumbled something and rolled over, exposing her damaged wing.
“Her wing it’s-,” Myana was shocked. She immediately stopped talking. Quickly she snapped the glowing petals off one of the flowers and threw them in a bowl. She grabbed a small blunt pestle and began grinding the petals until they were nothing but a mushy yellow powder.
“You need to tell me what’s going on young lady, I’ve never seen a sprite in such a bad way.”
With the blunt side of one of her talons, Myana scooped up a small amount of the substance and incredibly carefully brushed it against Jinx’s broken wing. Jinx flinched.
“That hurt,” she grumbled.
“Eat this little one,” Myana scooped up another bit of mush on the end of her talon.
“Do I have to?”
“Yes,” Shaya and Myana both said at the same time.
Jinx sat up carefully and with feeble arms grabbed a chunk. She braced herself and put the yellow paste in her mouth. She coughed and spluttered.
“Couldn’t you put some sugar in it?”
“I’m afraid not. More,” they all watched as Jinx took two more bites.
Myana stared at the tiny sprite as if she was waiting for something to happen. Finally, the powder on her wings began to glow just like the petals, and the golden aura around her began to slowly grow brighter, back to its original beauty. Myana let out a sigh of relief.
“She’ll be alright.”
“Really?”
“Yes, it’ll probably knock her out for a good few hours, she’ll need more before sundown, but she’ll be fine.”
“Told you,” Jinx slurred, wiping yellow mush from her chin.
The weight of a mountain was lifted from Shaya’s shoulders. Her whole body relaxed for what felt like the first time.
“Thank you so much Myana; I don’t know how I could ever repay you.”
“You could tell me what’s happening, child.”
Shaya was silent, she tried to think of a lie, a convincing one this time, but nothing came to her.
“Shaya, you’re running around town with King Leon’s son, your best friend is seriously hurt. You both are, forgive me, a mess and I can see that worried look in your eyes. I’m no fool child; perhaps I can help you.”
Shaya looked at the prince, he looked away, not knowing whether to tell her or not. Their clothes were scruffy, still a little damp from the rain in the night. They had dirt smudges on their faces, she looked down and realised she had spots of dried Krarg blood under her nails and on her sleeves. Myana was right; they were a mess.
She had known Myana most of her life. The old Volanti and her uncle had been friends for over a decade. After some hesitation, she took a few steps towards Myana and decided to tell her.
“Something has happened at the castle,” she said quietly so no one else could hear. She watched Myana’s feathery face drop as she spoke. “It was attacked, and now I have to get Prince Rowan to Filyn Forest.”
“Where,” Myana was flabbergasted, almost speechless for a moment. “Where’s the King?” she asked the prince finally.
“I don’t know,” he shook his head.
“Benjin?” she asked Shaya.
The young girl shook her head and dropped her eyes to the floor. Myana was alarmed by the news, but intent on helping “What can I do?”
“We’re being hunted by Krarg from the swamplands, if anyone is looking for us, tell them nothing,” said Prince Rowan sternly.
“Krarg? This far east? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“They are the ones who attacked my castle,” he said.
The Volanti paused for a moment, she looked away, her dark yellow eyes darting around as if she was trying to work something out in her head.
“I’ll fly for Volanti,” she said finally, as she began to close up her stall “I’ll tell my father of this, I’m not sure what he could do, but maybe he can help.”
“What about your stall?”
“You’re a sweet child, my girl. Castle Arrolyn has been attacked, and you worry about my flowers. It’s nothing more than a hobby child. One that is hardly important right now. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Shaya nodded “Thank you Myana.”
“I’ll leave at once.”
“You’ll do that for us?” said the prince with a surprised tone.
“Of course, your highness. We Volanti are friends to the crown. We may have our own leaders, and our own customs, but King Leon is still our king.”
“Thank you; I’ll tell my father of what you have done.”
“No thanks necessary my prince. It’s a long walk to Fylin. You seek guidance from the guardian who resides in the forest?”
“How do you know about the guardian?” asked a stunned Rowan.
“Volanti have been around longer than humans your highness,” smirked Myana.
“Before we leave, we must get the prince some new clothes; his robes are too recognisable,” Shaya said.
“Agreed, I may have something that is suitable,” Myana sighed and stepped closer “You must stay vigilant if Krarg are indeed hunting you. They have keen senses and sharp eyesight. You must move quickly and quietly on your travels. Difficult to do with him around,” Myana nodded to something behind them. Shaya and the prince turned to see Kupi running in circles in front of the fountain. Every time a shoot of water spurted up, the excitable moshling bounded into the air, landed heavily on his backside and start the process again.
“Oh,” said Shaya, she hadn’t thought of that. She watched her beloved pet run around, having the time of his life, not aware of the dangers they were facing. A potentially perilous journey was no place for a moshling. The cat-like creatures loved food, cuddles and sleep, not trudging across the kingdom. She knew she would have to say goodbye, but she didn’t want to.
Shaya thought for a moment; she couldn’t leave him to run around town on his own. The daft thing would probably knock it’s self out after running headfirst into a tree chasing mice, again.
“Mrs Burtson,” she said finally “She’s looked after Kupi and the farm before when Uncle Benjin and I had to leave town. I’m sure she would be happy to look after things for a few days.”
“Polly Burtson? Yes, she lives on Cobble Street. Tell you what, I’ll take Kupi to Mrs Burtson. I’ll tell her you and your uncle have been called away to Tetra or somewhere, get her to take care of the farm for you. She’s a good woman; she won’t mind.”
“Thank you Myana.”
“Stop thanking me child,” the old Volanti beamed “Now let’s get you changed your highness.”
It was a little baggy in the arms, but apart from that, the Volanti tunic fit perfectly. Shaya thought that somehow, the prince suddenly looked like a completely different person without his royal garb. He looked, well like a typical thirteen-year-old boy. The tunic was a dark bronze colour, laced up the front, all the way up to the neck, with a decorative brass belt around the waist. Myana had explained that it was the clothing worn by young Volanti that hadn’t fully developed their wings yet and therefore hadn’t learned to fly. The fledgeling garb, she called it. Prince Rowan brushed the tunic with his hands, trying to straighten out a crease, he caught Shaya looking at him with an amused look and stopped.
“How does it look?” he asked, sceptical.
“Very nice your grace,” she said noticing that he wasn’t best pleased to be without his fine clothing.
“Shall we be off?” he sighed.
“Just one moment please,” Shaya sighed. She whistled for Kupi to follow, he was busy shaking off the water from the fountain he’d inevitably dived in. He ran over as fast as his stumpy little legs could carry him, Shaya got down on one knee and gently grabbed him by the head. Kupi flung his head from side to side thinking they were going to play. They weren’t.
“Kupi,” Shaya said trying to stop him from mov
ing “Kupi calm down. Kupi listen.”
Kupi looked up at her and tilted his head, he didn’t know what was happening.
“Sit down.”
Kupi slumped back and stared at her with his big brown eyes.
“I-, I have to go away,” she spoke slowly “Just for a little while. You’re going to stay with Mrs Burtson.”
Kupi just stared at her, he tilted his head from side to side as if he was trying to figure out what she was saying.
“You need to stay,” Shaya could feel the tears starting to well up. She didn’t like leaving him for an afternoon, let alone for days at a time. In truth, she didn’t know how long she’d be gone; it could be a few days. It could be a week, or more, there was just no way of knowing.
“It won’t be for long. Just a few days or so,” Shaya lied as she stroked Kupi’s thick bluey-grey fur. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she hugged him tightly around his neck, a worried, confused look on his face.
With her trembling hands, she gave him one last stroke behind his long drooping ears; he always liked that. Shaya stood up and smiled faintly through the heartache. Myana knelt down beside him and put her hand on his head.
“Thank you for everything Myana; it means the world to me.”
“You’re welcome, child. Now you be careful out there, the plains are not suiting for such a young girl.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I know you will be my dear; you’re just like your uncle. Now go.”
Shaya nodded and looked again at her little moshling. “Be a good boy, be good,” she started to walk backwards away from her adorably confused pet.
Kupi watched her go, he started to whine, and suddenly he stood up. Myana placed her hand on his chest and stopped him from chasing after the sorrowful young girl. She turned around and headed out of town, with the prince by her side. She clasped her trembling hands so tightly, she barely even noticed she was digging her fingernails into her palms. She kept her head down, so the prince wouldn’t see the tears on the brink of tumbling down her reddening cheeks, as she tried her best to ignore the whines and cries that echoed behind her.
Chapter Six
Shadow and Flame
The cut was deep; the blood ran dark crimson staining his grey sleeve. Benjin tore a piece off a half-burned flag that lay strewn across the stairway. It once was the colours of the Royal family, displayed proudly at the top of the grand staircase, but now it was black and shredded on the floor.
One of the scale covered creatures had gotten lucky with one their blasted swords and sliced the top of his arm quite badly. He cursed quietly, an inch higher and it would have hit the shoulder pad of his armour, and he wouldn’t be bleeding over the entrance hall of the castle. His arms were bare; it was easier for him to move around that way, he needed all the help he could get these days, speed was not his strong suit anymore. Twenty years ago, one of these swamp dwelling monsters wouldn’t have had a chance, wouldn’t even have come close. These days he tired quickly, he hated to admit it, but he was starting to feel his age, especially in battle. He wrapped the rag around his wound, tied it and pulled it tight with his teeth as Elle stood guard.
“Are you done?” she asked impatiently.
“I’m sorry if my injury is so inconvenient to you my lady,” he grumbled as he flexed his arm, trying to see how much movement he would get from it. Not enough. Elle shot him a sharp glare and went back to scanning the hall. They stood at the top of the grand staircase near the entrance to the castle. A wide, long set of stairs that split at the top. Left led towards the guard towers and the right, towards the Royal Quarters. The stairs were decorated with a red carpet that ran from the large front doors, all the way down the hall and up the steps. At the top of the stairs stood an impressively vast stained-glass window, depicting the Goddess crowning the first King of Arrolyn, King Eobard, in a beautiful array of golds, reds and greens. The stairs were now littered with several bodies of Krarg and sadly ones of the Royal soldiers. Benjin and Elle had fought their way through the army of armoured reptiles, leaving bloodied bodies lying lifeless and cold on the stone tile floor. It had been vicious and violent, more than once Benjin thought they might not make it out, there were so many. They had taken out a second patrol on their way to the stairs. They were in search of the king, every minute they didn’t find him, the fear that they wouldn’t see him alive grew.
Benjin pulled his sword out of a dead Krarg’s chest that lay at his feet and cleaned the black oozing blood off of the blade with the rest of the flag.
“That was nineteen by the way,” he gestured to the corpse on the floor.
Elle looked at the heap at his feet as she walked up the stairs towards him.
“We’re searching for our king; I’m not playing your game Greyborn,” she spat irritated. She stopped as she got to the body and looked down at it, pausing for a moment “That was only eighteen.”
“I thought you weren’t playing my lady.”
“Stop calling me that,” she walked passed him and up the stairs to the right, towards the king’s quarters. He felt the need to make light of the situation, to lessen the tension, even if he didn’t feel all that cheery.
“You’re only angry because you’re on sixteen,” smiled Benjin.
“Yes, but I don’t have a scratch on me, do I Greyborn?” she shot back with the slightest of sly smirks. “You should have points deducted for being slow and clumsy.”
“Perhaps,” he muttered looking down at his bandaged arm, the cloth now practically dripping.
Hung on the walls as they went were painting of past kings and queens going back generations. There were framed canvases of certain parts of the kingdom over the years. There was one of Ki Town from nearly a thousand years ago; it was nothing more than a handful of houses on a dirt road. A journey through time. The king always said it was important to remember where they came from and how they got there. That’s why these windows to the past covered the walls of the corridors to his family’s chambers, a constant reminder when they awoke in the morning and before they slept at night.
“Hold,” Elle threw up a hand with a sharp whisper, and Benjin stopped in his tracks. Silently, she snuck up to the turn in the corridor. She was wearing heavy armour and chainmail but somehow didn’t make a sound. Benjin tiptoed behind her, not quite as silently. They peered around the corner, there two Krarg poking the bodies of soldiers with their spears, checking for signs of life. One was a little further down the hall with its back turned, the other bent down, sniffing and snorting at one of the fallen guardsmen.
By the time the lizard had looked up, it was too late, Elle was already upon it. To Benjin’s surprise, she raced down the corridor at high speed, barely making a sound, sword outstretched, bloodlust in her dark eyes. The Krarg only had a moment; it opened it’s mouth to cry out before Elle shoved her sword down its throat. It made a sickening chocking noise and then went limp, falling to the floor with a loud thud. The second animal turned and saw her standing over the lifeless corpse of its comrade, it screeched and shrieked with violent vitriol as it bounded towards her. She reached to the small of her back, her slender fingers finding a slight gap in her armour, slipped her hand inside and waited. The monster was racing towards her; snarling growls echoing down the corridor as it raised its spiked sword into the air. In a flash, Elle whipped out a small sharp knife from her armour and threw it. The creature squawked in surprise, it stumbled and fell to its hands and knees right in front of the warrior woman. As if she knew exactly where it would land, her sword was already upraised; the monster hadn’t even come to a complete stop before Elle swung her blade down and took its head. She exhaled satisfyingly with a smug smirk. Quickly she turned to look at Benjin walking towards her.
“Show off,” he muttered as he walked passed.
Elle didn’t say anything; she didn’t have to, she just flicked the dark green blood off her sword and returned it to the scabbard on her hip. She pulled the knife from the Krarg’
s neck, whipped the blood on its scales and slid it back into the fold in her armour.
The door to the king’s bedroom was ajar, Benjin pushed it open and stepped inside. The bed was still pristine, he hadn’t been asleep when the attack began. A half-written letter lay next to a severely melted candle sat on his desk. Wax had pooled onto the table and dripped over the edge, hanging down like a hardened cream coloured icicle.
“No sign of a struggle,” said Benjin looking around the large beautifully decorated room, everything seemed to be in order.
“Then he wasn’t attacked or taken. Or at least not here,” Elle sighed, she was clearly annoyed that the king wasn’t there, hope was dwindling.
“We’ll find him Ellesia. I promise.”
Elle didn’t say a word; she wore a stern look on her face.
“Are you sure he was here?” Benjin continued.
“Yes, I spoke with him a little before dusk. It wasn’t long after that we realised the castle was under attack. That’s when I went to find the prince in the library.”
“Then maybe the king went to the prince’s room.”
“What do you mean?”
“King or not, if you’re a parent and your home is under attack, what’s the first thing you do?”
“Make sure your child is safe,” Elle was already making her way to the door, Benjin followed quickly behind her.
They raced down the corridor and through the already open door into the prince’s bedchambers. The sight confirmed their worst fears. Krarg bodies were on the floor, crumpled scaly flesh covered in their own foul-smelling blood. Elle froze as her gaze landed on a pool of red blood, human blood. Lying on the ground next to it was a sword, the king’s sword Saviour. The once golden crown on the hilt was bent and dripped with crimson. The blade was shattered, the pieces strewn across the floor.
“No,” Elle let out an agonised whisper and dropped to her knees in front of the dark red stain soaking into the ivory coloured carpet.
Benjin stood behind her, a look of shock and horror on his face as he felt his stomach churn horribly.
The Shattered Moon (A Divine Legacy Book 1) Page 7
