by Kealohilani
“Two of you, come with me, now,” Drakne orders without glancing at them.
Two of the henchmen spring into action and hurry to catch up as Drakne continues down the halls. Isolating himself from everyone around him and looking intently forward, he plunges farther and farther down into the depths of the castle until he reaches the dungeons.
He does not look at the prisoners as he passes them in their crowded cells, nearly bursting at the seams. Nor does he hear the cries of the unfortunate men, women, and even small children who are strapped to various torture devices— devices which never had a place in this castle before Vranah came— as they are beaten in clear view of their fellow dissenters who await, with terror, their turn.
Only one torch burns in the entryway to the rows of cells that Drakne now reaches. The light is so dim that it almost makes one trapped here pray for darkness, for this feeble light is more painful than none at all.
It is quieter here and the air is colder. The silence that has fallen has an eerie palpable quality, broken only by the echoing footsteps of Drakne and his two henchmen. Drakne stalks through the gloom until he reaches the last cell.
“Guards! Retrieve the Prince of Trisakne and his bride-to-be and follow me!”
His order is obeyed as quickly as it is spoken.
Back in his purloined throne room, Vranah smiles as he turns to see the two prisoners being dragged behind Drakne, by his henchmen, up the long violet carpet. The soldiers throw them into a chalky white freshly-drawn circle on the cold green marble floor.
The two guards bow to Drakne and Vranah and quickly exit the room. Drakne, without so much as a glance at the unfortunate captives, mutters enchanted words. An energy field rises around the man and woman, trapping them inside a bubble with visible blue current surging throughout it— enveloping them like some monstrous electric jellyfish. The menacing current crackles like bees swarming through a bonfire.
The two prisoners are both in their early twenties. Keanu is tall, smooth-faced, and strikingly handsome. His dark features complement his caramel brown skin. Kneeling on the ground, he gently holds his wounded fiancée in his powerful arms.
He looks at her warm chocolate brown eyes, her ruby lips, her porcelain skin, and her perfect face as he strokes her long dark hair— trying to commit every last detail to memory. He smiles at her, but his tortured expression and tear-brimmed eyes show that he knows the truth. Sarana turns ghostly pale and struggles to look up at him.
Keanu’s throat constricts as he continues to hold her close. He had felt sure that she would survive… until she had faltered in her steps back in the forest. In that sickening instant, he realized that the arrow must have been laced with a deadly and slow-acting poison. It has been mere hours since she was struck, and Sarana’s condition has become increasingly grave.
Keanu’s mind races through the precious time they have shared together. He remembers riding down from his castle home through the verdant flower-filled valley that very first day— not expecting anything but to attend to a minor matter of business for his father in the small town of Kellinsi. He can still envision Sarana’s gentle smile and the way the wind swept through her glossy raven hair— wrapping it around her waist as she helped an elderly woman through the cobblestone streets.
Time slowed the instant her eyes locked with his in that moment, and his heart beat so fast that he was barely able to return her smile before she passed him.
He knew then and there that she was the only one for him. The anxious feeling in his stomach, which he felt that first day, had continued throughout the weeks that followed as he made every excuse to remain in Kellinsi and struggled to devise a plausible reason to speak with her.
His heart did a cartwheel the first time he held her soft hand in his. Fire burned in his soul during their first kiss, under a blossoming cherry tree. Remembering how his heart had never beaten so frantically as when he approached Sarana’s father to ask for her hand in marriage— and his jubilance when her father had given his blessing— almost makes him forget where he is.
In her eyes he sees the unborn children who should have been theirs. This cannot all be ending now… not like this. Keanu shakes his head and shoves the facts far from his mind. She is not lost to him yet.
“You must hold on, my love… We will find a way to save you…”
Keanu’s pleas become more and more inaudible and his quiet sobs interrupt his expression of hope as he chokes on his words. Tears flowing, Sarana does her best to smile at Keanu as she speaks despite the pain.
“Keanu… I always have… always will… love you…”
“I love you, Sarana.”
With one final longing look at each other she closes her eyes and the last breath leaves her body.
“Sarana?”
Keanu looks at her intently through the magnification of his tears. He forces his eyes shut and an anguished cry of sorrow escapes his very soul.
He clutches her lifeless body, kissing her forehead and crying aloud once more. He gently places her on the ground, looking forlornly at the way her hair flows around her and makes her look as if she is only a sleeping angel. His gaze drifts from her face to a spot on the floor.
Keanu’s eyes narrow. He stands up inside the electric cage. His expression hardens. His tears dry. Every muscle in his body tenses as he reels to face his captor— who has begun to laugh.
“VRANAH! YOU FOUL DEMON! YOU VILE V—”
“Hold your tongue! You forget to whom you speak! Besides, there is no need to make this personal. You are merely part of a larger plan that you, in your insignificant mortal state, fail to comprehend.”
“I forget nothing! I know exactly who you are! Your plan will never work! My brother will come for me!”
“You are wrong on both counts. My plan will work, and your brother will not get the chance to rescue you— unless he intends to retrieve your body.”
“Killing a prince would be foolish. Even a demon has need of treasure for his armies.”
“My dear boy, although I must admit that I admire your bravery and insolence, I must also wonder if it truly is bravery or simply extreme folly— bordering on delusion. I have your treasure.
“But none of that matters. And, in case you are wondering, swearing allegiance to me has worked for others in the past, but I am afraid you cannot have that option.”
“I would never join you under any circumstance, Vranah!”
Keanu spits at Vranah in repulsion at the very thought. The spittle hits the electric field and crackles into non-existence. Vranah’s eyes light up with amusement and he half-smiles before continuing his speech.
“I can think of one… However, as I informed you, it does not matter.” Vranah pauses to scan Keanu’s face. “I can see that you are wondering why I have done this to you— singled you out, along with your late fiancée— rather than targeting the would-be-heir to the kingdom. Allow me to enlighten you.”
Vranah comes even closer to Keanu until they are face to face through the force field and looks into his eyes with a cruel smile as he speaks in a bone-chilling voice.
“You, Prince Keanu, and that girl there, are both Half-Hearts.”
Once again, Vranah pauses, studying Keanu, savoring every reaction. Keanu’s mouth falls open slightly, his muscles lose their tension, and his lowered eyes say the rest. Shock. Horror. Depression. Defeat. Vranah smiles widely and works to suppress a chuckle as he speaks again.
“Although it may be more correct to say that you were Half-Hearts, as you will be joining her momentarily.”
Keanu’s eyes glaze over. His breathing becomes shallow, sometimes pausing altogether. The world spins slowly around him as his mind tries hopelessly to account for this pivotal information.
He had not even entirely believed in the legend about the Half-Hearts to begin with— and never would have guessed that he, himself, was one. And, even more astonishing— somehow, so was the woman he had fallen in love with.
The heavy
weight of the knowledge that their union would have had the power to stop this terrible war crashes upon him. His eyes drift to his lifeless love and he stares on, unable to make a sound. His insides turn to ice and he feels as though death has already seized him. Keanu falls to his knees by Sarana’s side and strokes her hair unconsciously.
“My brother will avenge us,” he whispers.
Vranah grins and this time makes no attempt to stifle the laugh that comes.
“Although I hope he attempts it, for it would bring him to me so conveniently, I do not believe he will even have the chance to plan a retaliatory strike— let alone carry it out— as I will be sending my men to retrieve him presently.”
Keanu’s eyes fly open wide as he jumps up in alarm.
“Why?! You have me! Leave him alone!”
“Ah, how quaint, the bonds of brotherhood. You quite amuse me. Pity you have to die.
“You see the problem with that is— although you posed the immediate threat— with your wedding, what, a week away? Your brother still poses a significant threat to me. Apparently, your family was twice blessed… for he is a Half-Heart as well! It may only be a matter of time before he runs into another— and time is the one thing I intend to see he never gets.
“He does not know of course. He is quite as in the dark about his situation as you were until a few moments ago. But he will meet the same end— although it may be more painful than yours if you do not cooperate.
“However, if you tell me where he is, I might give you the luxury of an instant and painless death by the power of my word. And perchance my generosity could also extend to him. Now— where is your brother?”
Keanu folds his arms, clenches his jaw, and remains silent.
“Very well, Keanu— have it your way.”
An energy bolt strikes Keanu as Vranah moves his hand parallel to the cage. He groans but stands tall and doesn’t move a muscle.
Vranah gestures sharply, twice, as if hurling invisible objects at the cage. Two more energy bolts strike Keanu. His body flinches and jolts. Still he holds his ground, glaring back at Vranah.
Vranah repeats the motions toward the cage again, and again, and again. Each bolt weakens Keanu a little more.
He falls to his hands and knees— no longer able to suppress his groans and screams as each excruciating strike hits its mark. Keanu finally cries out in anger.
“Even if I knew I would never tell you!”
Vranah ceases the torture for a moment and looks carefully at Keanu.
“I think what you mean by that is that you do not know where your brother is and therefore cannot tell me.”
Breathing hard, Keanu’s arms and legs shake, threatening to collapse at any second. One arm fatigues and Keanu nearly falls to the ground sideways. He forces his head up to glare at Vranah. Sweat pours down his face and his eyes struggle to retain focus.
“We’re done here. The die is cast! Any last words?”
Keanu looks down and speaks quietly to himself.
“Heaven help my brother… If you can hear me, Jharate, by any power in this world… dear brother, stay away!”
The cage’s coursing current slowly diverts its power directly into Keanu in a deadly constant stream. He screams in agony, anger, and fear for his brother one last time before finally falling to the ground next to Sarana as the force field disappears.
On the border of the former great Kingdoms of Trisakne and Kelamosa, hidden deep in the Forest of Kar, Jharate’s eyes fly open as he wakes up in a cold sweat with a silent scream of terror.
Leaning against the wall in the shadows, Drakne waited to be called upon while his master worked on Keanu. He snapped to attention as his master turned around to speak.
“Spread the news that Keanu is still alive and that we are holding him captive. Make sure it is the talk of every underground rebellion by sunset!”
“I understand, my lord.”
Drakne’s every footstep echoed in the silence of the room, as he moved slowly forward to stand beside Vranah. He lowered his gaze until it fell upon Keanu’s dead body for the first time.
“Shall I create a double?”
“Yes! Perfect!”
Drakne could hear the admiration in his master’s tone and felt immense gratification as he began to murmur ancient and powerful words of darkness, his eyes fixed on Keanu. He felt a second rush of pride swelling within him as he worked— because he did not perform spells in the classic sense. For spells often require an instrument. A staff, a wand, a potion, or an orb.
Long gone were the days when he needed any such assistance for magic. Those forms of magic were nothing compared to the power of certain words, of which he now had full command. He suppressed a smile as he realized he was more Vranah’s equal than perhaps his master would like to admit.
As Drakne finished muttering, an identical replica of Keanu materialized and stood in front of the dead lovers. Drakne took a gleeful moment to appreciate his masterpiece.
His creation would be able to speak, walk, even remember everything exactly as if it were Keanu— whatever its master commanded it to do. Its physical appearance would fool anyone who beheld it. However, the copy would pose no threat to Vranah, as it was not a Half-Heart, but merely a soulless shell.
The double looked down at the bodies of the two unfortunate lovers who could have saved both worlds, had their destiny not been interrupted, but showed no emotion. Drakne circled around the duplicate, inspecting it from head to toe with a smile on his face and a malevolent gleam in his eye. Drakne turned sharply to his master with a mock-obsequious bow.
“He is complete, my lord.”
“Good work, Drakne. You have learned much under my guidance.”
“What would you have me do with the bodies, Master?”
“No ordinary disposal will do. After all, these are two of the famed Half-Hearts! Go to the topmost turret of this castle at the east end. There, you will find I have prepared a room.
“Within that room lie twenty-four empty glass coffins. You will find two with their names engraved in gold. Take them there, restore them, and seal the coffins with a preservation spell so that their bodies will never decay.”
Drakne stared at his master without emotion as if awaiting further instruction.
“The reason, Drakne, that I am giving them such an honor, is not for their sake but for mine. When at last all twenty-four coffins are filled— and mark my words they will be filled— they shall stand as an everlasting testament of my triumph and power. A trophy room if you will.”
“Of course, my lord.”
Drakne’s eyes lit up at the thought of the trophy room. He turned and faced the ill-fated lovers, and moved his palms upward in a fluid motion, commanding the air to bring them forth. The lifeless bodies floated five feet above the ground as he indicated the direction they should go with a simple wave of his hand.
Drakne turned to face his master and bowed before walking back down the long purple carpet and exiting the throne room. He headed for the turret— his eyes on the Half-Hearts floating in front of him.
A slight smile of satisfaction came over his face as he realized what he had done. No mortal had ever captured or killed two Half-Hearts like this before. In fact, even Vranah himself had never done so— simply because until now he had been content to distract them from each other and ruin their lives with simple spells.
Drakne smiled again, congratulating himself as he thought of how he would be remembered through the ages as the only mortal to ever bring down a Half-Heart.
He frowned as a much less comforting thought crossed his mind. No Half-Hearts in the history of their world had ever gotten that close before! These two had been just days away from gaining the power to defeat Vranah.
“ ‘Luck is not the same as skill,’ ” Drakne scoffed. It had certainly been luck that their engagement had been long enough to give Vranah the time he needed to stop them.
And yet Vranah had blamed Drakne for letting them get so
close. A pathetic attempt to hide his own fear. Drakne had not even been told that the Prince and his fiancée were Half-Hearts until this afternoon— just as Vranah’s troops had overpowered Trisakne’s forces and had surged forward to take the castle, and with it the kingdom and the royal family.
No wonder his master was no longer content to leave any Half-Heart alive. A few more seconds and the betrothed couple would have escaped— and possibly made it to the Destavnian Castle for their wedding. And all would have been lost.
But what had changed? How had they come this far without being stopped? Had they gotten stronger? Was some other force helping them to find each other? No. Not possible. Drakne and Vranah were the most powerful forces in all of Alamea.
He diverted his thoughts back to his triumph and the triumph of his master. The hunt for the Half-Hearts had begun. They would be no match against the powers of evil. Besides, he thought, the Half-Hearts do not even know who they are. They would not stand a chance.
With these last thoughts, he reached the top of the long and winding staircase that led to the highest of the eastern turrets.
A giant mahogany door decorated with a glimmering gold tree stood closed in front of him. Surrounding the tree were three distinct celestial symbols, also forged in gold— one of the sun, one of the moon, and one of a solitary star.
The ornate gold doorknob was graced with a curious design in the center of it— fashioned out of gold and inlaid mother-of-pearl. A heart with a smaller upside-down heart inside of it. Below the doorknob, the keyhole had a faint impression of an upside-down heart around it as well.
Drakne examined the mark on the doorknob and recognized it immediately. He laughed. How ironic, he thought to himself as he waved the door open. He stepped into the room, ushering the corpses before him.
One of Drakne’s eyebrows rose. He could not help but admire the beauty of the chamber. It shone as if it were made of diamonds. A brilliant glowing white light surrounded everything in the room.
Even though it was nighttime outside, the room looked as bright as if it were noonday. Some of this light came from a gigantic crystal chandelier that hung from the center of the high domed ceiling— but the whole interior seemed to glow on its own as well.
