Glista’s ey es were not cold but considering as Riah spoke. Silence passed between them, and Riah wasn’t sure she would respond. But she did speak, and her voice was softer than he had ever heardit beforeeven whiletherewas still an edge to it. “After my mother died. And he coiled in on himself and could not see anything beyond his own fractured heart.”
Riah felt his heart pause in his chest. She was telling him his story. No, her story. But it was the same. The loss and the disappointment and the suffering. “You loved her, didn’t you? Your mother.” Glista did not answer. She wouldn’t even look at him. Riah nodded. “I loved mine too. I still have dreams about her. It hurts, more than anything else. Except maybe…” But he wouldn’t say Saffira’s name.
He felt rather th an saw Glista’s gaze slipping to him, narrowed and considering. “Where was she from?” Riah’s brows rose. Why did it matter where his mother was from to Glista? He countered with the same question. Glista’s gaze grew far off. “From across the sea. She was brought here against her will to fade in a wind which might carry her home.” Her words were somber, but Riah heard a wail. A wail that a storm might scream. And that storm would break from this young woman when she had had enough.
Riah’s hands fidgeted in his lap. “My mother...she came from an island off the continent. An island without a name. She said she left the Keeper. I guess whoever that might be, that he or she ruled the place she had come from. And all she ever said was that she never wanted to go back.”
“Was your father always a Shadow Bearer?” Glista asked. Riah’s brows knittedinconfusion.“No...hewas madeone from magic. Not from birth.”
“And your mother? Was she one?”
“Of course not.” She was human. As human as anyone could be.
“But she had magic within her, didn’t she?” Glista prodded. Riah’s eyes narrowed further. What was she getting at? “I’veseen it,” shesaid. “Therawmagic withinyou.It’s been there since I first saw you in Gnosi. Before Leviathan decided he would actually bring you to where you are now.”
Riah opened his mouth to respond even though he couldn't think of anything to say. But whatever he would have said never made it out, for there were massive shadows on the horizon. The moon had appeared beyond the veil of clouds, revealing the sea beneath a sheen of silvery light.
They were coming. The narrow ships with towering sails nearing the shoreline in their massive numbers. Scores of them. A hundred at least. No, more than that. They stretched the water as far as Riah’s eyes could reach. And beyond that, shadows breached the sky. Dark shadows moving, the sounds of their wings heavy against the air.
Riah’s heart soared. The Shadow Bearer was roaming towards them. Leviathan was here. With his army. The army he had taken years to build. And now it was built. And ready to destroy.
Fiera jolted awake. She sprang to the sitting position, her
breath passing into her lungs in heaving motions. “Fi, it's okay. It’s me.” It was Cam. Fiera clutched her younger sister’s arm. “I was just dreaming. II’m okay.” Sweat was beaded on her brow. Cam drew her close. The light was pale. Gray. Morning. Or just past so. It had been only hours ago that the Nazerians had pressed their way into the castle. So many of them…
Thousands. And Caleb had been leading them throughout the castle, his smile bright as the food was passed among them. When would she see him again? Fiera stomped down the ache blooming in her chest with her next words. “Are they still there?” A stupid question. Of course, they were still there. They hadn’t been given a reason to leave.
Another question surfaced in her mind. “ What the hell are they doing out there?” It had been more than two days. Three perhaps since the siege had been set, and Fiera was wondering if there even was a siege now. They haven't done anything. No attack. No movement. Nothing.
Cam seemed to hear her sister’s thoughts. “Maybe they do have a reason to disregard their siege for a time,” she murmured. “We aren’t theonlyones here, Fiera. Notjust us. And not just the wraiths.” Fiera’s lips parted in question, but Cam only pulled her older sister to her feet and pulled her to the window. The mats upon which those left in the castle had slept on were empty for the most part. Most of the soldiers were nowhere to be seen.
They were preparing. For the army breaching the shore, the one standing there on the sea itself. A hundred ships bobbed lazily. Fiera jolted forward, her hands clenching the sill before her. Her mouth dropped open, her eyes widening. “What are those?”
But she knew even as Cam whispered in a disbelieving breath. “Dragons.” Fiera’s eyes dropped to the sight just below the castle, her eyes snagging on the emptiness. There was only snow. No wraiths to be seen. They had vanished entirely. Allies? Or enemies? The country across the sea, Caranthia, would not come now. It was too late. And even if they knew, would they come to the aid of a nation under the breach of wraiths? She didn’t think so.
Cam’s handwas at Fiera’s shoulder. “We’regoingin. Joel, Saffira, Lia, and me. Come if you choose to.”
Fiera nodded, her mouth set in a grim line. “And the rest of the Nazerian troops? What has the queen decreed for them to do?”
“They’re already heading out, Fiera. While the others go deeper into the mountain where they cannot be found, some are staying to defend and distract. Because even if these wraiths aren’t aligned with the new army, well...we aren’t.”
Fiera’s eyes widened. “What the hell does that mean?”
Cam only walked away, her steps determined and brisk. Fiera followed, no other choice seeming to be an option. They broke from the castle just as Fiera was slinging her bow and quiver of arrows over her back. The two sisters tramped down the incline laden in the snow, their boots crunching against the ground. They dipped down one incline and rose up another until they could see a mile off the sight which all of the Nazerian troops had their eyes fixated on. The stone wall surrounding Nazeria rose as a mass of rock upon which stood a figure with rippling white hair. Beside her, a man clad in nothing but sleek, black armor.
And Fiera swore she was seeing the dead alive again. For Glista of Imber Fel and Riah Drakon of Gnosi stood before them, shadows of doom creeping around them.
Shadow Bearers...and not the ones who were weak and feeble from years of imprisonment. Shadow Bearers which had crawled from the confines of an infernal war camp birthed from an ancient vengeance. And Fiera understood. She understood why the queen was leaving her own home. Because now, Nazeria didn’t stand a chance. Even with the wraiths nowhere to beseen.
But Elizabeth would still do anything to keep her people safe. So they would battle the army of the north until the Nazerians were hidden away. Fiera remembered the choice the queen had offered. “Stayorleave.” Fiera looked at her sister with wide eyes and thundering heart as the latter strapped the last of her daggers across her chest and clutched that worn slingshot in her right hand. Cam was making a choice.
Sacrifice. And a slim chance that they would return.
Riah saw the purple banner fly. Its fabric fluttered in the wind.
And connected to that flag’s rod was a tall bronze woman with silky dark hair. He recognized her even from a distance but could not determine where and when he had met her. He knew who the general of Nazeria’s army was the instant he saw him. Not because he recognized the individual himself but that though the man was not young. He was certainly spry and wore a countenance of steel, a disposition of determination, and an air to destroy everything in his wake.
Riah smirked. “But he is merely a man accompanied by an army of men, and the Spirit Followers haven't any time to conjure a death spirit now. I will not die as my father did.” Riah’s smirk faded, however, when he saw the figure beside the general. His heart jolted in his chest before pounding thunderously in what seemed every part of his body. He felt weightless suddenly, his nerves tingling. And he could not tear his eyes away. She looked exactly the same, her eyes fixed before her in concentration. She did not wear eyes of steel, bu
t she bore no fear. “Beacon of hope. That’s what she told me her name meant…” he remembered. “All those years ago.”
Riah clenched his sword as Glista released a wild cry and thrust her own weapon into the air. The wolves sprang. The dragons soared. The rocs ascended. Riah’s veins sparked, lava seemed to rush inside him instead of blood. The mark on his neck pulsed. Leviathan was coming. He just hoped he wouldn't die before he had even really started. To become a dragon lord he had to climb the ranks, fight a few battles. He knew then that this was one of the sacrifices it would take to reach where he was climbing. Though by now he was pulling himself up. He was nearly there.
And he didn't know if one particular sacrifice would be enough. Not when he saw the young woman beside the general and the bright look of determination keeping her eyes sparkling. Sharpness pierced something inside for him. “She’ll always fight for her people and her god...before she’ll ever love me.”
Born from ash and stars
with all knowledge bestowed upon Him With hands to heal our scars
A death to bring us life
Blood closing our wounds
His power to ease our strife
-Song of the Watchers Verse the First written during the
Second Age
Fifty-Three
Peter started at the thud of a door against its frame. His body
tensed until the figure rounded the corner, and upon recognition, he relaxed. Cole stood before him, a grim expression weighing his facial features. His graying beard had not been trimmed in a long time and was thus overly shaggy, giving the man a rather wild appearance. Peter rose, his bad leg wobbling.
Cole’s eyes scanned the young man. “Still hurts, doesn’t it?”
Peter nodded and gritted his teeth against the pain. “And it will for a long time. Until I can find a healer.”
“Caranthia,” was all Cole said. Yes, Caranthia was the place to go, for they were more advanced in their medicine than any other place even remotely close to Nazeria.
Peter slipped to the carpeted floor once more to sit and just feel the warmth and humanness of the room around him. They would be going into the mountains again soon. “I’ve been in too many mountains before. Hiding. Waiting. I hate this. It's too small. Too closed in,” he found himself murmuring aloud.
Cole’s hand was at his shoulder. “I know, I know.” His voice was calming, comforting. A voice Peter had sought within mountains such as those they were bound to enter soon, all those years ago as a boy. He could remember it too clearly for his liking. The chilliness of the stone against his body as he pressed his heavily breathing form into it. Waiting for someone to find him and to hold him. Cole had been the one to find him. Alone andfilthyandstillcrying. Colewas stillspeaking. “Leviathan has arrived. From the sea. And he comes bearing legions as we have all expected.”
Peter looked up, his eyes widening. He should not be surprised. The Shadow Bearer was bound to come here. “But others have arrived too.” Now Peter was in disbelief. Enough disbelief that his mouth dropped open, and he scrambled to his feet despite the pain shooting up his leg. He clutched at Cole’s arms. Theolder man onlynodded. “Amelia isgoingto meet them now, but you should go too. They know your face.”
Peter couldn’t say anything. He could only gulp down whatever fears had been rising in his chest and nod. Cole clasped his hand on the young man’s shoulder once more. “I love you, Peter. As much as any father could love a son. The same blood or not.”
Camhad heard Glista’s cry split the air just before masses of
white bounded from behind the wall. The dragons had swooped into the air from behind the wall and were now hovering over them. And there were enormous birds, nearly the size of the dragons...
Where had they all come from?
Cam had always pictured battles from above as if she were a bird flying over the sight. But now...she was consumed in a mass of gray without any view of Fiera who had just been at her side. At any moment she might be knocked over, might lose her footing, might meet her demise. Her eyes were still fastened on the figures at the wall, at the woman whose hands were outstretched. The air was growing colder around her. Stiffer.
Cam’s feet slipped. Shecried out as sheslammed into the ground. She groaned against the impact and braced her hands against what she had fallen atop of. Ice. The ground was pure ice like a body of water in the dead of winter. But there hadn't been ice here a moment ago. Cam was pulled to her feet by a stranger. A Nazerian but not someone she could name. She looked once more towards the wall. It too was laden in a sheet of ice that had not been there a moment before.
Magic. Glista’s magic.
But she had died.
No, no one saw the body. Just like with Silva.
And Riah...she had poisoned him with that arrow herself. “I’m dreaming.” Those who should not be here were, and the wraiths who were present only hours before had vanished into nothing. The armies collided, and Cam felt as though her heart had also slammed into her chest. A stone was clutched in one hand, her sword rising in the other. The metal flashed in the air before it sunk into the fur of a leaping beast. White. A wolf.
Cam hissed as the wolf yelped and hurtled towards the ground, just grazing her. Her sword rose again even as a great black dragon flew overhead blazing fire in his wake. The fire was blue. Just like the fire dancing in a palm of a tall, ivory skinned, male Shadow Bearer before her wearing a sweeping black cape.
Cam flashed her sword as the fire was thrown in a circular form straight at her. The fire hit her blade, and it clattered to the ground just as the creature summoned another ball of fire. Cam could not determine if she was too hot or too cold. Her face was being bitten by the icy air, but her body was burning beneath her thick clothing especially since the fire was now smoldering around them. She ducked, the ball of fire flying over her. Into the face of a comrade behind her. A scream curdled the air as he clutched at his face. He fell, writhing on the ground. Cam turned before she saw him still.
Her stomach wrenched and twisted. Through her eyes, the battle was a blur, a rushed sequence where she knew only that she must keep pushing forward must keep plunging the sword she had found clattered to the ground into something. And that she must also look for Fiera every minute or so. But even in a second, she could die.
Just like the comrade beside her who had just had his throat ripped out by a wolf. And not just an ordinary wolf but an enormous black one with red scars streaking down its face. Cam sucked in her breath, her feet frozen to the spot as the wolf whirled, its fangs bared and fur bristling.
It leaped. And Cam ran.
She fled for her life. Where she was running, she did not know. But she had to keep her sword flashing before her as she barrelled through the forces. Comrades and Shadow Bearers alike. A growl reverberated off of the ice. Something large and gray loomed in Cam’s vision. A boulder. Higher up. Off the ground. Away from danger. Or as far away as she would get. She ran for it, a purpose now in her mind. But the wolf was on her heels.
A cry ripped from her chest as she was halted and pain surged up her leg. Her scream, which rippled the air before her, might have broken the ice she slammed against. She landed on her back, the air inside her leaving her entirely. Cam gasped, clawing for air as her hands were clawing at the ice in search of her fallen weapons.
The wolf had dug its claws into her heels, dragged her to the ground. Cam tasted blood in her mouth, felt it dribbling down her face and her neck. Her hand scrambled for the sword she had dropped, but it was nowhere in her reach. She went for the pouch at her side. The stone…
The wolf crouched, ready to pounce.
“Turn over!” her mind screamed. Fiera had said once long ago that if an animal attacked, it was better to have it clawing at your back than at her front where the organs were more easily accessible therefore damageable. With the gathering of her remaining strength, Cam turned over, crouched on the ice, her back exposed to the creature.
She scr
eamed again, blood falling from her gritted teeth as claws raked down her back. Tears were in her eyes, blocking her vision. The weight of the wolf settled on her as its growl surrounded her mind, filling her ears. Cam’s hands were searching frantically, possessing minds of their own as her actual mind was blurred, filled with pain. She screamed again, the sound ripping open the ice. Or maybe she was just seeing the ice open.
Silva.
The whiplash.
Bite and fire. Ripping and dripping of blood.
No, this wasn’t the same. Cam dragged herself an inch, raised her abdomen. Just one inch to reach it… The wolf’s saliva was dripping on her face. Cam clenched her eyes shut against the blurred battlefield stained crimson, against the flashing eyes of the wolf. She reached it. The pouch, and slipped a finger into its opening. She felt around for the one stone with the sharpest point. She withdrew it, her body sagging to the ice, her strength nearly spent.
The claws were dug into her shoulders. She couldn't even feel it anymore. And now…
“Turn...turn, Cam.”
“He’ll ripyouopen...eatyourinsides.” An echo of a story, a tale told to scare her as a child.
“Do it.”
Cam braced on her elbows, and summoning the small but sufficient amount of strength left in her, she turned, sending the wolf off of her but not far away. Just to land smoothly on the ice beside her. His teeth were bared even as he yelped, those streaks of red on his snout glowing like fire. He had only to notice she was free of him for a second before he could finish her…Cam raised the rock, its pointed end towards her target and…
Plunged it into the wolf’s eye. Its yelp of pain surged through the air, soared beneath the ice. Cam gritted her teeth and groaned in her own pain as she withdrew the rock and plummeted into the same eye again. She was on her knees now, the wolf writhing, his claws flashing but finding nothing to yield. She withdrew a dagger, one from her boot, and plunged it into the wolf’s side. And then into his chest. And then into his throat. The creature’s blood poured forth, dark red. The creature’s whimpered cry reached her ears.
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