by N. J. Cooper
“It seems that the legend of the Oracle is just that, a legend.” He taunted but he underestimated her will to take him out. The Oracle’s burning desire to take him down now burned through her veins and even though she was weaker than she had ever remembered being and her vision was marred by black blotches, she knew her friends only had one chance at surviving the rebellion without her and that was if Onyx wasn’t a part of it. Zarek was almost at her, his sword thick with the blood of those who tried to stop him, his face fierce as he surged forward to take on Onyx. He made it and went head to head with a love etched in his features that gave her the push she needed to get off the ground. Onyx thought she was done for, but he was wrong. She only needed to get to the throne room. She couldn’t defeat him on her own and she had been naïve to try. The realm deserved to fight for itself, Zarek’s statement had helped, they knew what was happening and were being restrained from helping but she knew they would come to their aid if they could. Kyla slid away, using the still standing pillars to keep her upright, her feet dragging as she tried to breathe through the slashes across her throat and the blood loss pulling her down. She was almost there, so close and yet her body didn’t care. It gave up, collapsing to the ground. She grunted, her bones turning to jelly as she tried to pull herself up the small steps. She hung herself on the throne, taking a few breaths that urged her through to the room behind it. She burst through the double doors, where the Elders met as the High Council and pressed the button on the podium, that Zarek had described as the bat signal. She used the Oracle knowledge in her mind to connect to the broadcasting equipment for the realm, then connected it to the fight that was going on behind the walls. Her mind pounded with the effort it took to keep the camera there, but she managed to as her breathy voice addressed the ones safe behind the borders.
“Velatem Realm. My name is Kyla Rhodes but most of you know me as the Oracle. What I’m showing you right now is the battle we are facing against the sorcerer you know as Onyx. I’m going to be honest; we are losing. We don’t have the people or the power he has. Yet your Prince is, as you can see in the scene right now, facing him down with the will to see your way of life saved. To see your lives saved. He is fighting for you and everything you have,” Kyla croaked, her mind connecting to Zarek who was being brutally beaten by Onyx, his sword no match for Onyx’s power. But Zarek kept coming, kept standing up just as she had. She turned the broadcast to her, “I am fighting for you, for King Carrick Kalan and everything he stands for, but we can’t do this on our own. We are not the realm; we are only its face. You should have the chance to fight for your beliefs, for your lives, because if Onyx wins this, you won’t have either of those things. Please, I am begging you; help us. Help us fight. I’m going to unlock the borders and the rest is up to you. This is your choice, each one of you can make up your own minds about how much of a role you want to play but if you can, please show your King and your Prince that you are worth fighting for.” Kyla spoke, urging her voice to sound as convincing as possible, hoping she reached enough people before she collapsed to the ground and her mind snapped back, cancelling the broadcast. She grasped the podium then cried out as her body was sailing through the air, landing on the chairs at the back of the ascending seating and desks, reserved for Elders. Onyx snarled angrily, his sharp teeth gnashing against each other in fury, she had gotten to him. She coughed, blood tainting her lips with its metallic taste.
“You cunning little…” Onyx started but Kyla thrusted her hand out, her wind throwing him into the opposite wall. She rushed as fast as her weak legs could, down to the table that had all the manual switches for the borders. It was meant to be for the centaurs, but she had been shown in case she couldn’t do it magically and she needed everything she had for Onyx. She flicked the silver switch that had a glowing red light, the glow turning off. The borders were down and hopefully her call for help had worked. Worried about how Onyx had gotten away from Zarek, Kyla thrust more power from her hands, her nose bleeding as the pressure in her mind built too much for her to contain. He slapped back against the wall before gaining traction towards her. Her throat had stopped bleeding, her healing slowly working but she was weak, and it wasn’t going to be able to fully heal until she rested but as long as she stayed awake long enough to kill Onyx, then she could deal with dying. His body still hadn’t healed from the immortal blade and Zarek had obviously landed a few hits of his own, based on the ripped pants, and blood-stained edges of Onyx’s attire. Onyx yanked against the powers she used to hold him there, his head beading with sweat as Kyla summoned her immortal blade and stalked forward, having him caught, fuelling her steps. She was about to shove the blade through his chest when her stomach heaved. Something was wrong. She narrowed her eyes on him, staring into his that were the same black pits but didn’t hold her like they used to. There was no potency in them and when she pressed the tip of the blade against him, he didn’t fight, he went limp on her powers. Kyla frowned and tried to catch his scent, she was almost convinced she was imagining it when the soft scent of honey and walnut wafted through her. That wasn’t Onyx! He was trying to make her kill the Prince, but he was a fool. Love didn’t work that way; it recognised a person’s soul. Not their face. Especially her and Zarek. She smirked at him with a wink as she pressed the tip against him. His eyes widened but he said nothing. She closed her eyes and opened her senses, targeting, hunting, her powers checking every corner and crevice of the room. She found him, hiding like a coward behind the huge gold velvet drapes that hung floor to ceiling around the room. She opened her eyes, took a deep breath then in one smooth movement, turned and launched her immortal blade straight at him, the silver burying itself deep into his chest only just missing where the black mark of stolen souls was. He snarled, his eyes going even wider. She spun to Zarek held up to the wall by her powers grinning weakly at her, his shirt torn and bloody. She ran to him and caught him in her arms as her powers let him go. She sat him against one of the desks then called her blade back, turning to Onyx as he leaned against the parallel white gloss desk, coughing black blood onto the perfection. He looked up; his face contorted.
“You haven’t won yet little girl.” Onyx bit, still refusing to let go of his tirade. She placed the immortal blade at his head, feigning a carefree façade as her head and heart pounded against every step and every breath she took. A rush of power surged through her as she threatened Onyx, one that filled her with hope and love. She frowned, Zarek was where he was meant to be, and yet it was the same connection. She used her connection to Shemar to check in on the others downstairs, smiling as Shemar turned to the sound of shouting and hooves. It was the centaurs. The ones that couldn’t get through the borders before but now were coming to the rescue and the centaurs weren’t alone. Creatures from every area who still believed in the Royals, were storming the rebellion with battle cries and weapons, ready to defend their home just as she had hoped. She smiled widely and turned back to Onyx.
“The Calvary is here, Onyx. This is done, you are done. Surrender.” She ordered. Onyx looked up, the black goo hanging from his lip as he shook his head with laboured breathing.
“Never, the throne is mine. The realm is mine and I have a lot more up my sleeve than what you know, don’t worry though, you’ll find out.” He threatened huskily, hacking away again. She clenched her jaw. She wanted to kill him, everything in her screamed at her to end him and yet she couldn’t do it. He had done inexplicable things, and yet she still saw that sad little boy, forced to watch his mother and sister die, the one who had been bullied for being kind. She dropped her sword.
“You will be banished for this treason; the Outlands will be secured, and you will live out the rest of your existence in exile.” Kyla granted mercifully. He chuckled, spitting blood onto the table, his hand holding his chest tightly.
“I knew you could never do it.” He rasped before reaching for her, capturing her arms in a vice grip behind her and facing her towards the infuriated face of Byron. She gas
ped as Byron outstretched his hand, and she was sure he was about to blast her with his power, but he never got the chance. A blade cut through him like butter, thrusting upward with a jolt, freezing his limbs as his face contorted, his lips parted. Blood flowed steadily from his mouth as Zarek yanked the sword from Byron’s chest dropping his limp body to the ground.
“That was for Tyrone.” He bit, then aimed his sword at Onyx who still held Kyla, but it was her turn. She gripped her immortal blade in her hand, shoving it backwards into his stomach. He gasped sharply and released her. She spun and twisted the blade further in.
“That’s going to stay there until we get you back where you belong.” Kyla vowed. His tortured face looked up at him.
“You will pay. You have no idea what you have done by killing my son. I will kill you.” He swore. Kyla shuddered at the words as Onyx glared at Zarek. He didn’t react but Kyla felt the threat down to her bones, her body shuddering. They had just taken another person he loved from him and there was only so far one could be pushed before they snapped, and it felt like that’s exactly what had just happened. Kyla gritted her teeth and bent down to Onyx.
“I will never give you that chance” Kyla promised.
~ 29 ~
“He’s finally gone,” Kyla breathed, leaning into Zarek as they stood in the portal room, the centaurs having just come back from putting Onyx in a secure prison in the Outlands, no more free ranging for him. She was covered in blood, Zarek was, the halls were. Not to mention there was a wall missing from the mansion, fires throughout the city and buildings in rubble. The Elders who had come to aid them in the fight, helped seal the dark portal, the wolves had secured the nexus and were closing it on their side and everyone who had helped Onyx, was scattering and being captured for banishment. Zarek held onto her lightly, he was weak, and she wasn’t much better off herself but they were alive. But something had been niggling at her.
“Where were your parents, Zarek?” She asked as they made their way out to where everyone was inspecting damage and beginning the process of healing and clean up.
“My mother stayed with my father to protect him in case they broke through. Standard protocol.” He revealed. Just like chess, the Queen protecting the King. Kyla leaned against him as they moved out to where the battle had taken place, the white snow slowly melting away and the centaurs helping the wounded to the hospital. Everyone came to a stop as Zarek and Kyla entered. Zarek looked down at her as she looked up at him. He tried to extract himself from her, obviously remembering her conversation before about not wanting to be official yet, but she had changed her mind. She didn’t know whether it was because she had the confident part of her personality as a part of her now or whether it was because of what they had just been through; either way, she clutched her arm around him tighter, refusing to let go. He smirked down at her as he realised what she was saying, then turned to face the creatures who were all staring, taking in their united bodies, and their bloodied, torn appearances. The silence was thick in the air and she waited for Zarek to open things up. He cleared his throat.
“Onyx has been sent back to the Outlands, along with those who aided in his rebellion. Our realm is ours again.” He boasted. The crowd in front of him erupted in cheers and applause. Zarek grinned weakly. He turned to Kyla in the middle of the applause, wrapping his arms around her, he bent down and kissed her hard. She sighed against him, her arms twining around his neck, her fingers grasping in his hair, to hold him against her. His biceps squeezed against Kyla’s waist as he lifted her off the ground, holding her body against his as Zarek’s mouth moved over hers. Her body burned with a new kind of sensation that only happened when she was with Zarek. Her soul reached for his as her stomach fluttered with every move of his soft lips against hers. Kyla grinned and pulled away as the applause and cheers died down, her forehead resting on his. He grinned up at her from where he held her off the ground. They were interrupted by a wispy, thin voice that she wasn’t sure if she would ever hear again.
“I guess it is time to officially announce you as one of our own, Kyla.” The King’s smile crinkled over his entire face. He was small, hunched and frail, with a walking stick supporting him but he was alive. Zarek gasped and turned to his father, lowering Kyla to the ground. He tenderly embraced his dad, then helped him forward to address those who had helped. Kyla got in her own hug before standing to the side. A centaur stood to the other side with a broadcasting camera on his shoulder.
“Velatem Realm. You have proven yourselves once again, as a powerful species and I personally thank you for coming to the aid of our realm and my family, we couldn’t have saved our homes if it weren’t for your help.” The King said then took a moment to draw in a few harsh breaths. Kyla frowned at the pause, her stomach fluttering in a way that was completely opposite to what she had felt with Zarek. This was dread, a pit in her, a shiver, a coldness slipping through her in warning. She just didn’t know what it meant.
“Now I have one more favour to ask,” The King continued, “We have one among us who bought us together, fought for us and saved us and yet we have denied her the right to be one of us. I would like to thank her for all that she has done for us since her arrival, by officially declaring her as a Velatem supernatural. What say you?” The King boomed as loudly as his raspy voice could manage. Kyla didn’t expect anything to happen except an awkward silence, so when the crowd of creatures broke into another round of applause and cheers, she was stunned. The King indicated for her to come forward. She walked up to where he stood and tried to think of anything but blushing, her face heating in defiance.
“Elders, what say you?” The King forced. Elders came through the crowd in pairs, their own bodies messed from battle.
“It’s a yes from the witches,” One of the pairs said in unison.
“It’s a yes from the Vampires who still uphold the vow we took to honour you, King Carrick.”
“Yes, from the werewolves,”
“The centaurs would be honoured.” Orion’s voiced boomed from her right, his smirk hitting her. He winked as she grinned, trying to ignore how much blood covered the coat over his horse back. Every pair that came forward as representatives said yes and she had never felt so much like she had belonged, in all her life. Her heart warmed at their acceptance, smothering the fluttering instinct in her stomach that said something was wrong. The King turned to her.
“Kneel, Kyla.” He said softly. She did so and came up to his chest, had he shrunk? Kyla’s eyes snapped to his hair; it was completely white. No more grey. She clenched her jaw against the tears that threatened. His soft eyes looked through her knowingly. She silenced her questions as Zarek came over with his blood encrusted sword, his hand joining the Kings, on the hilt.
“Hold out your hand.” The King ordered. She did, her palm upwards. The King and Zarek, used the tip of the blade to cut a small wound into her palm. The King held out his hand, with a ring on it.
“Squeeze your blood onto it.” Zarek told. Kyla squeezed her palm shut, her blood dripping on the King’s ring and the minute it did, the ring sizzled and sparked as her body shuddered. It filled with a warmth and brightness, her breath getting caught in her throat. It was an intense connection to everything around her. She felt strong. She looked down to where her body glowed visibly, her body connecting to Velatem Realm.
“Repeat the vow. I Kyla, vow to honour my King, serve in the best interests of my realm and abide the laws made by my King.” King Carrick stated. Kyla repeated the vows and her body shone brighter, before a blinding light cut out her vision. It came back moments later and she could feel her soul tighten, binding loyally to the King that stared back at her. The vow had imprinted on her and as much as it took her breath away, it surprised her more, that Onyx was ever able to break such a strong bond. The King pulled her up, holding her hand, as Zarek took the other one. She tried to concentrate on what they were saying and the steps they were taking but her stomach wasn’t giving up. Her head ached and she c
ouldn’t make out why.
“Velatem. Please welcome, Kyla Rhodes, our Oracle, our saviour, our Defender.” The King called loudly, earning another thunder of claps. She smiled, her frown giving her away though. Zarek leant down to her ear.
“What’s wrong?” He asked. She couldn’t hide from him. She looked over the crowd then next to her and her stomach sunk. She knew what the warning was. The King’s eyelids fluttered fast; his chest moved quickly, as his unsteady heartbeat drummed in Kyla’s ears. His hand loosened on hers and she sprang into action.
“Orion, get the healers!” Kyla cried out over the crowd as she wrenched her hand out of Zarek’s, in time to catch the Kings frail body in hers. The crowd gasped as Orion’s body blurred passed them. She lowered the King to the ground as Zarek grabbed his father from her.
“Dad.” He whimpered. The King’s eyes opened slowly, one hand holding hers, one in Zarek’s.
“You have done well, Son. I’m proud of you,” He whispered. Tears emptied from her eyes as Kyla held his hand tightly, her other hand hovering over his body but the warm glow of healing was doing nothing. She focused her power into it, not caring that it wasn’t doing a thing, just not able to sit by and watch without trying.
“I only have one piece of advice left, that I hope you take as seriously as I mean it,” King Carrick said. The crowd was being held back by centaurs as sobs and cries filled the air. Kyla’s sniffling adding to the morbid atmosphere, her heart opening with pain as her healing refused to stick. Zarek nodded and waited for his father to collect enough breath to talk.