by M. L. Greye
“She saw a Ruby.” He shrugged, as if a night was really all his sister needed to recover from a broken face and gash up her arm.
Emry gripped onto her door with one hand and held up a finger with the other. “Day after tomorrow, we’ll leave to Acoba. You can wait one more day.”
Trezim groaned and threw his head back, eyes to the ceiling. “Fine. One more day.”
“Good.” She paused and then, instead of giving him a Heerth farewell, she said, “Until the next, Trez.”
Before Emry had the chance to shut the door on his face, Trezim leaned in and brushed a kiss over her cheek. As he pulled back, he winked at her startled face. “Sleep well, Emry.” With that, he spun on his heel and headed down the hallway.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Emry had been in Acoba a month, and it was not like Zyntar. Where Zyntar was near the sea shore, surrounded by jungle, Acoba was like an oasis in a desert – on the border of tribe lands. The palace here – the Eclipse Palace as it was called in Heerth – was made of mostly balconies and open rooms with only sheer drapes for doors to the outside. There was a staff of Grays on hand at all hours of the day and night for temperature control.
Even though the Eclipse Palace had similar architecture to the Solar Palace with its upside-down heart-shaped arches and rooftops, it was shaped more like a Quirl castle with its various towers and turrets. The difference, other than it being fashioned out of stucco rather than stone, was that instead of windows there were balconies and open slits in the walls. Also, every corner was rounded. The walls, rooms, balconies, towers – all of it. The soft corners offset all the sharp angles of the floors and decor.
The entire exterior of the Eclipse Palace was sand colored – matching the desert surrounding Acoba. Its interiors, however, were painted in pastels. Everything was light and bright. The tile floors here were painted cement squares in symmetrical designs of turquoise, eggplant, and white. The pillow pits were filled with brilliant white pillows edged in geometric embroidery of an assortment of pastels as well as pillows in the same colors as the floor.
Where the Solar Palace was exotic and vibrant, the Eclipse Palace was subdued and tranquil. Emry noticed right away why Trezim preferred living in Acoba to Zyntar. This palace felt more like a home rather than a place to entertain.
Even though the gardens of the Eclipse Palace were not extensive – the land within the palace grounds was barely larger than the footprint of the structure itself – Emry didn’t mind. Unlike in Zyntar, she was free to traverse the city as much as she wished.
Acoba was not filled with winding roads reaching upward to the palace grounds. The streets here were on a glorified grid. Some twisted about, but most were straight and stacked one after the other like a flat ladder. Acoba was not as old as Zyntar, and the ancient Heerths who had settled it had improved on the chaos that was the Zyntar road system.
Something she hadn’t realized she’d missed was the ability to walk alone. It was lovely. Her handmaids had been left behind in Zyntar. Even though Emry hadn’t disliked them, she still didn’t love being trailed by three other women everywhere she went. Without them, she felt free to roam once more – like she had in Anexia. No one needed to shadow her. It was liberating.
Emry trained every day now. From sunup to sun down with meals in between. She could now actually do the Turanga. Not against Trezim, but with Sabine she could hold her own.
The night before as the three friends had lounged out on a balcony, Trezim had mentioned it was time for Emry to enter the next phase of her training: shadow blades. Whatever those were. Emry had never heard of them before. Trez had told her they would become her best friends, and she was to begin with them the next day.
It was because of these shadow blades that Emry currently made her way down to the private rounds of the Heerth royal family – on the second level of the sprawling palace. Before she’d made the journey to Acoba, Trez had said the Eclipse Palace was smaller than the Solar Palace. As far as Emry had seen, if it was, it wasn’t by much. It still humiliated her own palace in Enn.
She reached the familiar doors into the spacious room that held the Family Rounds, as Trez and Sabine called them. Grabbing onto the gold lever that acted as a doorknob, Emry yanked backwards on the door, using her weight to swing it open. The door gave way silently, revealing the Family Rounds – three of them – and Trez.
A buffet of fruits, cheeses, meats, and various breads was laid out as usual along the left wall, near a round, low table built for four. Trezim was already sitting on a pillow beside the table with a plate of food in front of him. This was how he and Emry took their breakfast nearly every morning. They’d eat just enough to no longer be hungry together before beginning Emry’s training for the day.
As Emry padded toward him on her bare feet – shoes were not worn when doing the Turanga – Trezim looked up from the letter in his hand. A plate of food was set in front of him but had clearly not been touched. He inclined his head to her and jiggled the parchment. “A missive from my father.”
“Why do you not look pleased?” She asked slowly.
“It’s no secret my father and I have never been close.” He sighed and dropped the letter onto the table. “At least not since he sent my mother into The Flatlands so he could wed another.”
Emry winced. It was the custom of Heerth kings to send their wives into the desert when they tired of them. It was barbaric and should have been banned hundreds of years ago. She never understood why any woman would wish to marry a Heerth king.
Trez waved a hand behind him to the trays of food. “Pick your poison.”
“Exactly the sort of thing I wish to hear when I’m about to eat,” she quipped, retrieving a plate from the buffet table. The steaming platter of eggs had spinach, potatoes, and ham added to them today. They looked delicious. Emry’s stomach growled.
“Try the juice,” Trez suggested. “It’s a mix of mangos and oranges.”
“That sounds marvelous.” Emry quickly filled her plate and poured herself a glass of Trezim’s juice before lowering onto the large red pillow across from him at the table.
She’d only taken three bites when Trez extended a plain, empty black hilt across the table to her. The hilt looked as though its blade had been snapped off and all the remaining shards removed, leaving behind a hole where it should have been. Emry blinked. “What am I supposed to do with that?”
He grunted. “This is a shadow blade, all the way from Perth.”
“It’s missing the blade portion,” she replied wryly.
“That’s because you have to activate it,” he retorted.
Emry blinked. “Do what?”
Trezim sighed and set the black hilt beside his plate on the table. He then dropped his hand to his hip and drew up another empty hilt. This one, though, was gold and shiny. “This is a sun blade.”
“It seems to have the same problem as the shadow blade,” Emry replied, taking a sip of her juice. Trez had been right – it was delicious.
“You’re not being funny.” Trez rolled his eyes, and suddenly a shaft of gold steel – straight and thin in Heerth fashion erupted out of it.
She stared at the blade and then at Trez’s smug smile. “How?” She demanded.
“You urge a small portion of power into it,” he told her. “Only Golds can wield a sun blade. Only Silvers can wield a shadow blade.”
“Let me see it.” Emry held out her hand above the table, and Trezim gave her the black hilt. She frowned as she grabbed a fist full of power from her reserve and shoved it into the blade. The hilt shattered into dust. Emry yelped as the black bits covered both her and Trezim’s food.
“I said a small amount,” Trez grumbled, staring down at his dirty plate. “How much did you use?”
“I thought it was small,” she muttered, somewhat sheepishly.
He sighed again and handed her another empty black hilt from the belt at his waist. “Think smaller.”
Emry bit the inside of her bo
ttom lip and, this time, only retrieved a finger length of power. She slid it through her hand into the blade, and the same thing happened. Black dust once again coated the air between them before drifting down to cover the table. They both were going to need new plates and cups.
Trez swore. “You do realize these are hard to craft, don’t you? They’re literally forged from shadows.”
“Shadows,” she repeated incredulously. “How does that work?”
“How should I know? I’m not a blacksmith.” Reluctantly, Trezim reached to his belt again. “Here. Try not to destroy this one as well. I only have one more, and I’d like to get to actual training before lunch.”
Emry rolled her eyes and let out a curse of her own under her breath. Then, collecting only a pinkie toenail amount of power, she urged it into the blade. A curved, smooth blade of black steel solidified in front of her.
“Finally.” Trez grinned. “Now the real fun can start.”
Days slid into weeks and weeks slid into another month. Emry fell into a routine. She would rise with the sun, train in swordplay – using mostly shadow blades – until lunch with Trez. She’d then eat and head back to the rounds with Trez and Eazon for Turanga lessons. Sometimes Sabine would join them from her nearby estate to dabble in either swords or staff, depending on her mood that day.
As part of the Eclipse Palace’s grounds, an expansive pool of crystal clear blue water sat behind it. The pool wasn’t deep – no more than four feet. Yet, its purpose was to cool off the royal family – to offer them a relief from the desert sun. After her training sessions, Emry would usually go for a swim before having the traditional Heerth light dinner in her rooms. On some nights, she’d join Sabine in the city for something to eat. Or Sabine and Trez. Or, more lately, just Trez.
Somehow during all that time they’d spent together, they’d become friends. Comfortable, easy friends. Trez still irritated her with his smug smiles and arrogance, but every so often, he’d give her a glimpse into something sincere – warming her from head to toe. The truth was, she liked Trez. She was finding it harder and harder to ignore his charm. Ever since that night he told her he was bringing her to Acoba, he’d been kissing her cheek goodbye every night. At first, he snuck a kiss in to annoy her, but then it shifted into an easy habit between friends. She liked it.
She liked when he teased her. She liked when he stepped in close to her to adjust her stance or grip. She liked the way his eyes would widen ever so slightly when he made her laugh. And that smug smile … She was even starting to grow fond of that, too.
It was his tell – he used it to cover up insecurities. Had he not been about six years older than her, she would have called him adorable. Two months in Acoba had not only changed her physically – she was so much stronger now thanks to her training – but also her perspective. Of Trez. He was a good man. Far better than his elder brothers. He would make a better king than either of them. If they hadn’t both been born with gold eyes, Trez would have been the heir.
Heerth thrones went from one gold-eyed king to the eldest gold-eyed son. Although, Trez was perfectly content to sit back and let them deal with the kingdom. He said he had no taste for ruling. Like Emry’s father.
That thought made Emry grimace as she neared the Family Rounds for the day. Trez was already eating at the table again. Ever since leaving Zyntar, he’d been punctual every morning – even beating her to the room most mornings.
“Morning,” he called out, wiping his mouth on a napkin.
“May the sunrise fill you with as much joy as bright light,” she greeted him in Heerth fashion.
“You’re chipper this morning.” He eyed her warily as she stopped beside the table. “Do we need to go on a run to knock that out of you?”
Emry hated running. Trez knew this. She loved to exercise and move her body, but a run just for running’s sake – a run meant just to give her more stamina while she trained – pointless. And boring. So, so boring. How did Teals deal with it every day?
“I can be melancholy if you would prefer,” she shot back.
He flashed her a grin that made her heart race a little. “I think I’ll just have to begin phase three with you instead.”
She tossed a look up at the ceiling high above her head, rolling her eyes. “What is it with you and these phases?”
“They’re steps for you to follow to no longer be a helpless little mouse, preyed upon and driven by the eddies of intelligent, powerful men and women.” He raised a hand to stop her from interrupting. “Your words, not mine.”
Words spoken over a year ago now. She was surprised he remembered them. She was no longer that girl he’d encountered in the maze. “So, what does this new phase entail?”
“History.” He winked.
She stared at him. “History?”
“To not be deterred by what’s before you,” he explained, “you must know what’s behind you. Or so my childhood tutor told me.”
“Alright,” she said slowly. “How far back are we going?”
:::::
“Good,” Trez said as Emry twisted down and outward, away from his attack. “Now, you come at me.”
They’d been going at this for an hour now. Switching it up a bit today, they’d practiced the Turanga earlier that morning. After lunch and a swim, they’d returned to the rounds to work on Emry’s swordplay. She used her borrowed shadow blades, and Trez used his sun blades.
Emry was panting and sweating already, despite her still wet hair from their swim. But she obeyed Trezim’s request and attacked – left arm first, followed by her right. They always practiced with two blades – one in each hand. Trezim said it was swifter, lighter. Better for her to defend herself. Trezim blocked her easily, but he was at least sweating, too. Emry was getting better. Little by little. Slowly. It’d taken her a couple months to get here, but she was getting better.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” Trezim pointed out.
She’d honestly forgotten. “What was it again?”
“Can you list the origins of each eye color?”
Right. Part of his phase three nonsense. The history of eye variations and abilities. She took a breath, jumping back from a swipe Trezim had intended for her stomach. The tip of it sliced through her tunic, leaving a razor thin tear.
She glared at him, but he merely shrugged. “Move faster.”
Before Emry could swear at him, he swung at her again. “I’m waiting.”
Emry grunted and began what her mother had taught her as a child. “Black eyes come from Kruth. Green from the Midlands. Bronze from Glavenryl. Blue from Enn. And from Anexia-” She had to pause when her blade connected with Trezim’s so hard it made her teeth rattle. She gulped in a breath. “Silver. Silver comes from Anexia.”
“Correct.” Trezim nodded. He wasn’t even out of breath. “Now what about outside your country?”
“You mean your dazzling eyes?” She took a swipe at his hip but was blocked. “Gold comes from Heerth. As does orange. Quirl claims gray. Pales are Perth.”
She parried and swung both arms outward, taking a step back away from him so she could catch her breath. Trezim dropped his blades to his side, waiting. “That leaves ruby, pink, purple, and teal,” he said.
“No one knows their origins,” she panted. “Not anymore.”
“Do you know why?” He asked quietly.
“The Silver Reign,” she replied. “That knowledge was lost during the Silver Reign.”
He watched her for a moment. Then jerked his chin toward the pitchers that were set on the nearby serving table. “Let’s take a break.”
Emry nodded, and retracted her shadow blades. She set the empty hilts on the table before pouring herself a cup full of the chilled water. She guzzled it down in one breath.
The Silver Reign was thought of as the dark age of Enlennd. About five hundred years before, Enlennd’s five regions were separate countries – until the king of Anexia decided to expand his kingdom by conquering Glaven
ryl, Midlands, Kruth, and Enn. As a powerful Silver, no one was able to stand up against him. He’d invaded Heerth and Quirl as well. However, he never managed to claim those two countries. After a decade of failed attacks, the Silver king retreated to those he did command.
He united the five nations into five regions of a single country but was a tyrant. For about two hundred years his bloodline ruled by fear and darkness. The Silvers burned and murdered and destroyed much of the cultures within their conquered lands. Including old libraries.
The Silver Reign lasted until about three hundred years ago when Emry’s Enn ancestors rose and challenged the current Silver king at the time. They stole away the throne and renamed the nation Enlennd – a play of words off Enn and land. They became the first Jewels and had kept the power ever since. Passed down through her father’s line – for her to claim one day when her father died.
The ironic part that no one within her Court really knew was that Emry was actually royal on both sides. Those ancient Jewels thought they’d killed every reigning Silver, but they’d forgotten about the youngest daughter who had been visiting the Quirl court. When her family was slaughtered, Quirl offered her sanctuary. She never returned to Anexia, but her grandchildren did. They were the ancestors of Emry’s mother. Which made Emry realistically a princess of both Anexia and Enn … if the regions were still countries, which they weren’t. But still, it was ironic.
Emry washed down another full glass of water before Trezim spoke again, “Have you heard of the Warrior of Perth?”
“She’s their national hero, right? The one who helped protect them in the Pirate War.” She set down her cup and picked up her empty hilts from the table.
“I’ve met her a handful of times.” Trezim traced the edge of the table with one finger. “Her name is Varamtha.” He paused. “Do you know what nations lie beyond Quirl and Heerth?”
