War of the Realms Box Set

by Sarah J. Stone

  “Gods she does not believe in,” Holland said.

  “Gods that show themselves in many different manners,” Coventina replied. “Whether Fae or Fire, we stand united for the greater good. We hope you see that is a place for you as well.”

  “I have given my oath to Leonetta,” Holland replied sternly. “And though I question all that is strange and unfounded, I will continue to pledge my faith for an eternity.”

  “Then we understand each other,” Coventina replied with a strange smirk.

  “I think we do,” Holland said, looking down at the fire.

  Leonetta could smell the smoke from the lava pits burning below and it reminded her of the smell of Avalon burning from its roots as she rode toward Fortune on the back of her Wild Dragon. She had watched Holland’s face disappear though he did not know she was watching him. Her heart had broken that day and would continue to break through her time in the Vale. Though Ardontis seemed to feel that Asphodul would no longer be a threat, Leonetta could not be so certain. Her connection to her blood went deeper than any stone they may have created to keep connected to each other. As sisters, Leonetta could tell that Asphodul was not complete. She could tell that something else was brewing in the pits but she couldn’t quite see what it was.

  The Fae Princess watched as the magical mark of the Dead King floated high in the sky over the mountains. Smoke swirled in and out of the Dead King’s symbol letting her know he was still alive and well. Though it was important to kill Ghede, his child’s blood was what was meant to spill.

  “I fear through these smoking rings there is a presence unknown,” Leonetta whispered. “When the child is dead, and the seas stand still once again, we will know if we are left to prosper, or find an ominous ora left untouched.”

  ***

  Helena turned and followed Pike into the cave. It leads far back into the darkness, winding and twisting before opening up in what looked like a dark palace hallway. The coal filled volcano, dusty in nature, was filled with sparkling black walls and floors, sconces flaming high for light. As Pike went to tuck his map into his bag, he heard a whimper. At first, he thought he was hearing things, but it slowly got louder and louder as he walked down the hallway. Finally, as his feet stopped outside a large stone door, he pulled on the handle, watching it swing heavily open in front of him. Helena put her hand to her mouth as the fire blazed upwards and the screams of Pike’s wife could be heard echoing through the chambers. Pike ran forward, putting his palms out and expelling blue light that circled the flames before expunging them. His wife fell into his arms, her skin burned and her clothes barely there.

  “You came for me,” she whispered.

  “Of course, my love,” Pike said back, a tear in his eye.

  “I love you,” she replied, a whimper and choke coming from her throat. “But you must go. You aren’t safe here.”

  “I cannot leave you,” Pike replied.

  “I am done,” she choked. “But you can save yourself. The secrets are not worth the pain.” Pike didn’t understand what she was saying.

  “What secrets?” Pike cried out.

  “Your secrets,” she said, her breath beginning to leave her body. “Goooo, he knows you’re here.”

  With that, Shayla took her last breath, her life dissipating before him. He sat staring down at her body, wondering what all of this was for. As he stood ready to leave and give up, he looked at Helena’s face, and suddenly he realized what the prophecy meant. Suddenly everything he had heard fit together like the perfect puzzle. Anger swelled deep inside him and energy radiated from his body, the waves pushing outward and wind beginning to blow in circles around them.

  Ghede was going to die, and Pike knew, he was the one to do it. As he began to move toward Helena he could feel the earth begin to shake beneath his feet. He reached out and grabbed Helena’s hand and darted toward the door, looking back one last time at his lost bride. They ran through the corridor looking for a safe place to hide and regroup. As they turned the corner they stood face to face with two large Ogres. Knowing that if the beasts were to call out, their cover would be blown, Pike pushed his arms out in front of him and shot magic from his palms, striking the Ogres in the mouth and sealing them shut. The large beasts clawed at their mouths, their eyes wide as Helena created a ball of magic from her chest and shot it straight for them. As the incandescent orb struck the ogres, they froze for an instant before turning quickly to dust.

  Pike leaped forward to continue running but Helena grabbed his arm and put her fingers to her lips. She moved close to Pike and pulled his invisible cloak over their heads, pulling them back toward the walls. They sat quietly as they heard voices growing closer. Pike grabbed the butt of his sword as Ghede turned the corner with a young Fae, who talked quickly and frantically.

  “They had to have come from here,” he said. “The spell was set to kill Shayla as soon as they entered.”

  “But where are they?” Ghede snarled beneath his mask, looking down and kicking at the dusty remains of his Ogres. He didn’t realize what he was looking at and walked forward into the room where Shayla lay.

  Pike gritted his teeth and began to move forward but Helena grabbed his arm and shook her head. She knew this was not the place to face Ghede and she sensed there was something else lingering in the wind. They stood listening to the Dead King speak angrily to his servant.

  “You understand that they cannot get near Malaya she is too close to giving birth,” Ghede shouted. “That child is the key to our future.”

  “Yes, your grace, we have all precautions set up,” the servant sniveled.

  “You better,” Ghede shouted before a sound of whooshing air shot from the room and Pike and Helena watched the servant scurry out alone.

  Pike pulled the cape from over their heads and looked at Helena who was already working out the Dead King’s words. If what he said were true they weren’t fighting to just destroy Ghede, they needed to get to Malaya before the Dead Child was born. Once the child is born there is no hope for the lands.

  “Malaya is close to birth, I can feel it,” Helena whispered. “We must find her and kill the child while it is still inside of her belly.”

  Pike looked down the long corridor ahead and shook his head, feeling like his thoughts were all jumbled. Why had Leonetta kept this a secret, or did she even know what she was sending them to do?

  “We must get there before it is too late,” Helena said quietly, standing next to Pike.

  ***

  The wind blew wildly across the rocks and Leonetta clutched her chest.

  “I fear we may already be too late,” she whispered.

  Chapter Two: Two Births, One Outcome

  Asphodul closed her eyes and grasped tightly to the Wild Dragon beneath her as the wind washed over her body. She could feel the tension and stress of the last mark blow away with the cold winter air. How she had gotten to this point she still had a hard time putting together. She knew she was not ready for the throne but she also knew every action she took was for the greater good. But what had it gotten her? Her husband had taken her throne, considering her mad, and she was left searching for her sister who had told her that she would one day end her life. Asphodul opened her eyes and shook her head. She had saved her own marriage to her husband, Tyriad, by keeping her visions of Holland and Leonetta to herself. She knew they would need a strong leader in the Vale if something happened to her and she knew Leonetta was not that Queen.

  As the days had progressed, however, she felt herself growing stronger in visions and needed to know exactly what Leonetta was seeing. Her sister was powerful and Asphodul knew Leonetta knew more about the future of the realms then she let on. Asphodul couldn’t let that simmer so when her husband had thought she was off to bed after the Frost Ceremony, she gathered her things and raced for the dragons. She knew it would be an issue when she returned but she also knew Tyriad would never listen to her in that state. She was the Queen of the Vale whether her husband c
hose to acknowledge or not which gave her certain rights to follow down visions whenever she found it dire.

  Asphodul leaned back against the dragon’s warm scales and allowed herself to relax for a moment. She had been on edge for a long time and there was nothing she could do at the moment except ride. Suddenly, without warning a Dragon Shifter swooped down beside the wild and gazed over with its yellow glowing eyes. Asphodul jumped and reached for her sword but stopped realizing it was one of her army’s. She opened up her mind and allowed the shifter to speak to her telepathically.

  “Your Grace,” the shifter said. “You must return to the Kingdom at once. Queen Aralea has gone into early labor and they need you.”

  Asphodul took a deep breath and tapped the Wild on the back, summoning him to turn around and head back to the Kingdom. She had taken Queen Aralea and her husband in after the Cascading Seas was destroyed and all its people lost. She was pregnant and excited to welcome the child into its new home before all of this had begun. Now, without a home, and her father dead and buried, the wizard Queen seemed to be facing complications outside of her control. Asphodul nodded at the shifter and watched as it dove down to fly closer to the ground. The Fae Queen leaned forward and felt the strength of the Wild Dragon as it began to fly faster back toward the Vale Castle. Asphodul was not looking forward to facing her husband so soon but she had no choice in the matter, Aralea needed her.

  As the Wild swooped down and landed softly in the garden, Asphodul looked up at Tyriad jogging toward them. She dismounted and straightened her gown, running her hand over her to magically disappear her cloak. Tyriad stopped in front of them and nodded at the Wild who clawed his way back toward the fields where the Wild made keep.

  “Where did you go?” Tyriad sounded more frantic than angry.

  “I needed some fresh air and space,” Asphodul snapped back at him. “But right now, what is important is getting inside to Aralea, so if you will excuse me…”

  “Wait,” Tyriad said, grabbing Asphodul’s arm and pulling her to the side. “Aralea doesn’t seem to be in her right mind. It is difficult to speak with her and it seems she may be hallucinating.”

  “Does she have a fever?”

  “No,” Tyriad responded. “No fever, no sweating, just hallucinations, and contractions. The doctor has checked and said she looks to be a bit away from labor but she needs to calm down or she could hurt herself and the baby.”

  “Of course,” Asphodul said shaking her head. “I’ll take care of this.”

  Asphodul ran through the gardens and up the castle steps. She didn’t stop for anyone as she raced through the castle and to Aralea’s chambers. Everyone fell silent as Asphodul entered the room and walked straight to Aralea’s side. She watched as Aralea’s eyes turned white and she began to talk in a language unknown to everyone but Asphodul. She had heard that language before when she was stuck in the void with Malaya. It was the language of the dead. Asphodul reached out and placed her hand on Aralea’s forehead and closed her eyes. Visions of the Dead King and his palace raced through her mind, intermittent with screaming visions of Malaya. Asphodul released her hand realizing these were not hallucinations, they were visions.

  The Fae Queen stood staring down at Aralea knowing there was something way more nefarious going on here than a Wizard giving birth. She turned to the room and called for it to be cleared, and quickly. Everyone dropped what they were doing, including Aralea’s husband and nodded, rushing from the room. Asphodul slowly pushed the large wooden door closed behind them and bolted it shut. She wasn’t sure what she was about to face, but she knew it might not be pleasant.

  Asphodul sat down on the bed next to Aralea as she withdrew from another vision. She lay quietly breathing heavily with her eyes shut while Asphodul stroked her hair. Suddenly her eyes flew open and she grabbed Asphodul’s wrist, pulling her down close to her mouth.

  “You must protect her. You must shield her. She is just a baby,” she whispered frantically. “Promise me Asphodul, you must promise me. No matter what, you must protect her.”

  Asphodul nodded her head and looked down at Aralea. “I promise,” she blurted out. “I will protect her.”

  With that Aralea fell into a deep sleep, resting from the visions plaguing her soul.

  ***

  “You must breathe deeply,” Malaya’s nurse said calmly. “This needs to be smooth and without complication.”

  “I’m going to die, aren’t I?” Malaya grabbed the nurse’s wrist with tears in her eyes. “He never wanted a Queen, he wanted a vessel.”

  “Nonsense,” the nurse replied with short patience. “You are the Dead Queen and you will teach your child, nurse your child, and bring your child into greatness.”

  Malaya knew there was more to this than what she was being told but what would a wet nurse from the Dead Army know about it anyway. She had been brought into all this just as Malaya had been. The Dead Queen reached down and ran her hand over her belly, feeling the beastly child move and kick beneath her skin. She could feel the contractions rip and twist at her stomach as the child began its journey of birth. The pain was nearly unbearable and as the contractions hit, Malaya would find herself going in and out of consciousness. Though they seemed to be getting closer together, she knew that labor could last hours under normal circumstances. In this situation, however, she didn’t know what to expect at all.

  Malaya laid on the soft bed that Ghede had summoned for her and watched as the living and the dead alike moved in and out of her chambers. She hoped to see her King but he found that his presence was not warranted until after the child had arrived. She was completely alone in the hot dank quarters of his castle and though she asked for this power, this control, she quickly found that in the Dead Kingdom, control is nothing more than an illusion created by the Dead King and fostered by his minions. In reality, Malaya had control over nothing, even her own birth, and she started to regret following her brother into the way of the Dead King. She had seen what Ghede did to him, once a strong necromancer soldier, and now a large Ogerish creature destined to spend his life carrying out the Dead King’s orders.

  The nurse entered back into the room with a pitcher of water, bringing Malaya a glass and watching her drink all of it. She took the glass from the Dead Queen and patted a cold rag across her forehead, listening to her pulse. Malaya could feel as another round of contractions began to simmer in her stomach. The baby kicked wildly as if it were fighting its own battle inside of her body and she wondered if it wouldn’t just burst through her small frail stomach. As the pain of the contractions moved over her, Malaya clamped down on the bed and gritted her teeth, screaming out in agony. The nurse rubbed her back as she attempted to breathe but the pain had become to much. As the next wave moved over her, Malaya began to cry, wishing that it would all just end.

  “Now now,” the nurse said. “It’s almost through. Just breathe.”

  Suddenly Malaya’s vision began to falter and as her eyes closed and reopened trying to fixate on an object, she could hear the screams of another woman echoing through her mind. Malaya’s head was spinning and she could no longer even hear the nurse’s words of encouragement. Visions of the Vale Castle flashed in front of her face and she saw Asphodul holding a small child whose eyes glowed as red as lava. She blinked again and focused back in on the dark room around her. What was she seeing? Was that her child? If so, why did Asphodul have it?

  Malaya leaned over and looked at the nurse with fire in her eyes. The nurse stopped and waited, seeing the seriousness flow across the Dead Queen’s face. Malaya cleared her throat and leaned in close to the nurse, knowing exactly why she was seeing visions of her child in someone else’s arms.

  “Get me the King,” Malaya whispered.

  “But Your Grace, he has explicitly said…,” the nurse replied.

  “I don’t care,” Malaya said through gritted teeth. “Someone is going to murder me before this child is born.”

  Chapter Three: Riddles
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br />   The cave walls were black and slick and the heat from the center of the volcano flowed through the passageways like water through a fresh spring. Helena and Pike could smell the sulfur bubbling behind the thick walls and it made Pike sick to his stomach. He reached his cloak up to shield his nose from the smell as they walked quietly in the shadows. The cloaks seemed to have been working since they had crept past several creatures without anyone being the wiser. However, as they entered into the epicenter of tunnels that lead throughout the entire castle, the enemy became almost too thick to move through undetected. Pike looked over at Helena who was searching the corridor for something. Ahead of them, a group of seven or eight creatures were heading down the hall, leaving no room for them to just squeak by unnoticed.

  Pike could feel Helena’s hand squeeze around his wrist as she carefully cracked open a door on the right and pulled him inside. The room was pitch black and Helena created a light spell to open up the room to them. Pike looked up and around the dark space. In the center was a giant stone table. All along the walls books sat on chiseled stone shelves. None of the books were in their language but from the looks of it, they were dark and mysterious. The spines of the books shimmered and waved as if they were enchanted by some kind of magic. Pike walked over and lifted his hand to touch the glimmering lettering.

  “Don’t,” Helena hissed, grabbing his hand. “These are the Dead King’s ancient scripts. I’m not sure where he got them, but part of their magic is in him. He will be able to sense us if you touch them.”

  Pike retracted his hand and pushed it back under the cloak staring at them for another second before turning to Helena. She was pacing the floor trying to sense Malaya’s whereabouts but she looked angry and frustrated. Pike walked over and put a hand on her shoulder, nodding at her in reassurance.

  “Calm yourself, Helena,” he whispered. “Let your heart guide you.”

  She looked at Pike and shook her head, taking in a deep breath and closing her eyes. She rubbed the palms of her hands together feverishly, her eyes fixated on an invisible place on the floor. Pike watched as her hands moved faster and faster and her lips mumbled words he did not understand. Suddenly she clapped her hands together loudly and Pike watched as she opened them up to reveal a bright white orb floating upward toward the ceiling.