War of the Realms Box Set

by Sarah J. Stone

  “You can’t do that,” she barked.

  “I am the king of the Vale!” he roared. “I love you, Asphodul, but until you can see the error in your ways, I will be taking over this kingdom. And if you choose to fight against me, I will have you seen as unfit. I don’t want to, but that is what a ruler does to protect the greater good.”

  “Why would you do this to me?” Asphodul’s cries cut to the core of Tyriad, and he softened his gaze, walking over and kneeling in front of her.

  “I love you, my queen,” he whispered. “And I am doing this for your betterment. You are not in the right mind to rule this kingdom. No one will know what is going on, and when you have regained your zest and fortitude for the Vale, you will return to your rightful place. You chose me to make decisions as a king, and that includes when you are not well enough to make decisions on your own. We cannot take back what you did, but we can hope, in time, Leonetta can forgive you.”

  “I believe we may be far beyond forgiveness,” Asphodul whispered as she stared out into the blue sky. “I fear when we meet again, someone will lose their life.”

  ***

  The wind blew through Leonetta’s hair as she rode forth to Krifton where they would regroup, and Leonetta could find solace in her Faith. She grasped tightly to the young girl in front of her, hoping she had made the right decision in bringing her along. Though Holland did not understand her extra baggage back to the city, Ardontis would know as soon as she showed him Helena’s mark of birth. At first, the girl was scared, hiding under the cloak and clinging to Leonetta tightly, faint whimpers coming from her throat. However, as the dragon’s flight stabilized, Helena began to relax, eventually pulling down the hood and watching wide-eyed as the sun began to rise off in the distance in the west realms.

  For just a moment, as the girl’s heart beat against Leonetta, the princess could feel her anger dissolve, and she was filled with a warmth she had never known. Leonetta rubbed her hand through Helena’s hair as she struggled to keep her eyes open. They were almost to the fields outside of Krifton where they would land and allow Holland to transform, leaving the Wild to circle the perimeter until they were ready to leave. As the field approached, Leonetta shifted the girl so that she was cradling her in her arms. When they touched down, Leonetta carried Helena, covered in her robes, across the field and to the gates of Krifton.

  The guards allowed them through, believing the princess to be carrying nothing more than fabrics to trade in the town. Holland and Leonetta made their way through the crowds and into the hostel where Ardontis was staying. When they reached the room, Ardontis opened the door even before they could knock. He smiled at them, gaze falling on the body Leonetta had in her arms.

  “Please tell me that isn’t anyone I know,” Ardontis said, lifting an eyebrow.

  “It is not, but it is someone you will be curious to meet,” Leonetta whispered as she pulled back the girl’s cloak and stepped into the room.

  The light from the sun woke Helena, and she scrunched her face, rubbing her eyes as Leonetta sat her tenderly down on the floor. She bent down in front of the girl and smiled, taking her hands. Ardontis and Holland stood behind them, watching in curiosity.

  “I am sorry to wake you. I know it was a long night,” Leonetta said smiling. “I would like you to meet someone. This is my very good friend, Ardontis.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Helena replied, curtsying to the Faith.

  “If it is okay, I would like to show Ardontis your mark of birth,” Leonetta said kindly.

  “Why? It is just an unsightly blotch my hair covers,” she said with confusion.

  “I have a special reason,” Leonetta smiled. “May I?”

  “Sure,” the girl shrugged, turning toward the Faith.

  Leonetta pulled Helena’s hair back from her face, revealing a birthmark on her neck that resembled the flames of the gods. Holland looked at her with a confused face and watched as Leonetta pulled her sleeve back, holding her own mark next to the girl’s. They were identical. Ardontis’ face became stiff, and he walked over, leaning in for a better look.

  “Where did you find this girl?”

  “She was right under our noses, working among the staff in the Vale castle. Her parents are both deceased, and she was serving the queen,” Leonetta said softly.

  “Hello,” Ardontis said, kneeling down and facing the girl. “Do you remember where you were born?”

  “My mother said I was born inside the castle,” she replied. “But she never really wanted to talk about it much.”

  “Did you have any siblings?” Ardontis held the girl’s hand.

  “No, my father said my mother was not blessed with the ability to give me any brothers or sisters,” she replied. “I never asked why, as it seemed to hurt my mother when my father would bring it up.”

  “I see,” Ardontis said, shaking his head. “Well, you are here with us now, and we can be your family. Would you like that?”

  “Will I get to stay with the princess?” The girl looked up at Leonetta.

  “You shall stay by my side,” Leonetta said, smiling. “Now, why don’t you go with Holland. He will get you some food and some new clothes. I need to speak with Ardontis for just a bit. We will be right here waiting for you.”

  “Okay,” the girl said, reaching for Holland’s hand.

  Leonetta smiled and nodded at Holland, leading him to understand that this wasn’t an option. They watched as Holland led the girl from the room and down the stairs. Leonetta walked over and shut the door to the room, turning back to Ardontis. His face was contemplative, and his stance showed worry.

  “She is your sister,” Ardontis said quietly.

  “And the prophet,” Leonetta added. “The one who will join with the Great Wolf King and fight for the Dead Kingdom.”

  “This is quite a turn of events,” Ardontis said, walking to the window. “The girl has no idea who she is or what kind of power she harnesses within her.”

  “That is why we will continue with our plan, teaching and guiding her until it is time,” Leonetta reminded Ardontis. “This is a positive thing.”

  “Oh, I agree,” Ardontis said nodding his head. “Just highly unexpected. Will we still keep the status of Pike’s wife a secret?”

  “Of course,” Leonetta responded. “We need him motivated for this to work. I spoke with my grandmother telepathically this morning. She said all was well and the pelt has been delivered.”

  “Excellent,” Ardontis said, looking out the window at the girl walking through the street vendors looking at the beautiful clothing. “She looks so young.”

  “Remember that the fae age differently. By her next mark of birth, she will have grown into the body of a young woman, the age she will stay in appearance until she reaches centuries old,” Leonetta explained. “It is a blessing and a curse that our bodies do not age until we choose to let them.”

  “That seems like more of an asset to me,” Ardontis said, rubbing the top of his head. “What I would do to feel twenty again.”

  “And what I wouldn’t do to grow old and leave this earthly body behind,” Leonetta laughed. “I guess it is our nature as a species to want what we cannot have.”

  “At least everything is going as planned,” Ardontis said, looking back down at the market.

  “Well, there has been a bit of a change. We will no longer be answering to Asphodul as I have seen her mind and understanding her intentions, I left at once. I do not wish to speak of the details, but know that her betrayal goes beyond the realm of forgiveness,” Leonetta said, joining Ardontis at the window.

  “I did not assume that friendship would last forever,” Ardontis said calmly. “I am just glad Helena has been found before Asphodul could realize it.”

  Leonetta looked down into the streets and watched as Helena skipped happily through the crowd, laughing deeply as Holland tried on women’s hats and made funny faces. She was a free spirit just like Leonetta w
as but had been caged in the worst way. She was kept in her father’s sight, never knowing him as her kin while suffering through and watching her own mother take her life in grief. Of course, she could have no other children; her mother’s husband was not a fae. It took the king to create a child of noble birth and the prophet for the future. The king, unfortunately, perished before he could reveal her to the kingdom, something Leonetta assumed he was waiting on to protect her fragile view of the world. This girl was more than a normal fae, born of the full moon, endowed with the gifts of generations, and laid with the burden of protecting all living kind.

  She truly was the hope of the west realms.

  Chapter Eleven: The Power of the Witch

  “I still don’t understand why you need to seek out this witch,” Drue said, cutting down the thick vines of the forest with his sword. “She is dangerous, and the queen warned you that you might not like what you find.”

  “Sometimes the truth can be painful,” Pike said, climbing through the fallen trees and thick brush. “But either way, it is the truth, and it must be known.”

  “Well, here’s your chance,” Drue said, stopping at the clearing and stepping to the side.

  Pike walked forward past him, looking down in the mossy field carved into the thick darkness of the woods. The sun showed down through the canopy, lighting the green grasses even during the beginning of the frost. As if the area were enchanted, the air warmed around them, and the birds sang lighthearted tunes.

  “This is an enchantment,” Drue whispered. “It is meant to draw you in, but do not be fooled. This witch may appear to you in any form, but she cannot be trusted. You can only stay inside for a few moments, or you could lose yourself in her made-up existence.”

  “I will be careful,” Pike said, patting Drue on the chest. “If there is any sign of danger, call out like an owl.”

  “Why an owl? Why wouldn’t I howl or something?”

  Pike shook his head and rolled his eyes as he slid down the embankment and into the field below. As he walked, he reached down to run his hands over the grass, noticing the blades were not actually there. They were holographic in nature and disappeared as his body came into contact. He moved and the pelt shifted slightly on his shoulders as he felt himself begin to cool underneath. It was as if the cloak was regulating his temperature, and as the warmth outside increased, the temperature of his body decreased. When he reached the old wooden door of the dark and crooked shack, he reached his hand forward to knock, pulling back quickly as the door flew open.

  “Come in,” an old, high-pitched voice said from inside.

  Pike crept carefully through the door and stood trying to focus through the darkness of the room. As he stepped forward, the door slammed behind him, and a candle lit on the table directly in front of him. There was no one sitting at the table, but he could feel the witch’s presence.

  “I was wondering when you would arrive,” the voice said slowly. “King of the Wolves comes to visit little old me.”

  “I’ve come for answers,” Pike said loudly.

  “I see,” she cackled. “And what have you brought me in return?”

  “The dagger of the late mer-king,” he said, pulling it from his belt and holding it up in the air.

  “Come into the light,” she whispered.

  Pike walked forward, listening to the creaking floorboards under his feet. The witch was hiding in the shadows, and it made Pike more than nervous. He stepped into the circle of light around the table and held out the dagger.

  “Good,” she replied. “Set it on the table and have a seat.”

  Pike carefully placed the dagger in the center of the table and sat down on the old wooden stool. He kept his eyes open around him as he waited for the witch to appear. Slowly, the silhouette of an ancient woman with wiry gray hair appeared from the shadows. She hobbled forward, smiling at Pike, revealing her two black teeth. Pike kept a straight face and tried to remember what Drue told him. He couldn’t trust anything he saw within these walls.

  “Now, mer-child,” the old lady, said sitting down at the table, “you seek the answers to your powers.”

  “How did you–”

  “My eyes go beyond my body, boy,” she cackled as she reached to the left for a bowl and some herbs.

  Pike watched as the witch chopped up leafy greenery and tossed it in the bowl. She looked up at him for a moment before slicing the knife across her hand, dripping the blood into the bowl. She reached her other hand toward Pike and waited.

  “Now you,” she whispered.

  “You want my blood?”

  “If you want answers, I must join your blood with mine,” she explained. “Or you can just continue toward the Dead King with no resolve.”

  Pike sighed and stuck out his hand, wincing as the dull blade pushed into his skin. She squeezed the cut and shook it over the bowl, letting his hand go and tossing him a scrap of cloth. Pike held the dirty cloth in the air for a moment before shrugging and wrapping it around his hand, stopping the bleeding. He watched as the witch waved different herbs over the bowl, dropping hot coals in the bottom and listening to the steaming of the blood. As she waved her old, wrinkled hands, a spell released from her lips, floating through the air like fog. As the spell hit Pike’s ears, the witch’s eyes went from blue to white, and she threw her head back.

  The table began to shake beneath them, and Pike looked around nervously as the candles blew out and a round ball of white energy rose from her dish. The witch rubbed her hands around the ball as if she were studying it’s every move and flicker. Slowly, her voice began to rise, creaky and withered.

  “On the night of your birth,” she sang in a chilling tone, “there were several gods about your bed. Your little voice whaled as the mer-king touched your tiny head. This touch did not signify love, and its only point was understanding and blood. The babe's sweet eyes shone blue, then red, and in the end, you lay weeping in your bed. For in that tiny chest that beat were all the powers of the sea.”

  “All the powers of the sea?” Pike was confused. All the powers of the sea lay in his father’s staff.

  “A power that rich could not be endured in the breast,” she continued. “So, your father pulled them from your chest. A glowing orb atop a staff sat your gifts and your mother’s laugh. For in order to hold such a power for long, your mother sacrificed her soul and song. You were not made from womb and flesh, you see; you were created from the gods’ crest. Until your father’s last holy breath, your powers lay stored, swirling through the wooden staff until your father met his untimely death. Through field and fold, the powers soured, back home to your body they will endure.”

  “But what are they? How do I find them?” Pike said, standing up.

  “Beside your queen, you will rule, a blessed heaven taken from the fool. Two realms you’ll lead as the Wolf King pride, as a fae watches over from the burial of your bride.”

  Pike looked down as the last verse left the witch’s tongue, running the words over in his head. How could he rule next to his queen if his bride was buried? It didn’t make any sense. As the witch took a deep breath and dropped her head, the candle light ignited, and the orb disappeared into the darkness. Pike stood watching the motionless witch, wondering what he should do. Slowly, he pushed his hand toward her shoulder. Just inches from her wrinkled skin, he swallowed hard. Suddenly, the witch’s head flew up, and with the agility of a young girl she grabbed the dagger and flew over the table, tackling Pike and holding the blade to his throat.

  “The price you pay for such knowledge is not sufficient in this dagger, you fool,” she screamed out. “Your soul must stay with me.”

  Pike wrestled around the witch, trying to throw her off, but she was stronger than a tiny, old woman. Feeling energy swirling through his chest, Pike grabbed her hand holding the dagger and began to push backward. A red light started to pulsate under his grasp, and smoke billowed from beneath her palm. She cried out, dropping
the dagger and looking at her burnt and blistered palm. With a moment to spare, Pike looked down at his hands and then thrust them against the witch’s face, listening to her blood-curdling scream as he threw her from him and across the room. He grabbed the dagger and got to his feet, throwing open the door and running out into the once sunny field. However, as each foot stepped forward where the blades of grass once were, snakes stood hissing and writhing.

  Pike looked up at Drue who was waving his arms and screaming for him to run. Behind him, the house exploded, and the witch flew from the blazing flames. Pike remembered what happened as he walked through the grass, so he clenched his teeth and stuck his hand into the field of snakes. He looked down as they moved and writhed around his hand, and he realized it was just an enchantment. He took off toward Drue jumping over fallen trees and holes that weren’t there before. He climbed the embankment and fell into Drue, breathing heavily.

  “Watch out,” Drue screamed, pointing behind Pike.

  As Pike turned, he put his arms up and released a powerful spell from his palms. The witch slammed hard into the invisible forcefield and fell to the ground, her enchantments fading. Where there once were terrifying sights was now a damp swamp with a small shack floating upon a wooden platform. Pike looked down at the witch who was no longer old and haggard but instead was young with long, black hair and fair skin. She had been cast out of the kingdoms for her pious and unnatural ways, but that did not mean she was an old hag. In fact, her beauty was part of the way she charmed young men into her home in the first place. Then why did she appear to Pike as an old woman? He shook his head and pushed Drue forward, nodding that they make haste back into the woods. As Pike stepped forward, he heard a voice call out.

  “Wait!” the woman yelled, lifting herself onto the embankment. “The Dead King forced me to do this to you. I don’t have much time, but take this, it will protect you on your journey.”