The Darkest Sword

by Samantha Kroese

  INDEPENDENTLY PUBLISHED

  FADING LIGHTS TRILOGY

  Forbidden

  Unspoken

  Taboo

  WORLD OF ESPYN

  Restless Dreams of Darkness

  ASSASSINS OF DAKAAL

  Regret

  Ladykiller

  Niyx

  OTHER WORKS

  The Darkest Sword

  The Darkest Sword

  SAMANTHA

  KROESE

  Copyright © 2021 Samantha Kroese

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  ISBN: (Paperback) 9798723509665

  Imprint: Independently published

  Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination.

  Cover created by EerilyFair Designs:

  https://www.eerilyfairbookcovers.com/

  Author Website:

  https://vnvstables.wixsite.com/authorsnkroese

  PROLOGUE

  Rurik drew his long black talons along the bloodied water in the basin before him. Black magic like tendrils leaked through the water at his coaxing. Seeing the future was a tiresome process that took too much patience. But Rurik was nothing if not patient. He had spent centuries perfecting this spell. Shaping his world toward apocalypse. Watching the rise and fall of his tyrant puppets as they brought ruin and despair upon the world.

  The black smoke curled up from the water and caressed his scaled skin like the touch of a forbidden lover. He let out a pleased hiss at the feel of the darkness and surrendered to it as it came upon him. He grunted and jerked at the power of it as it filled him then he opened his blackened eyes to stare once again into the pool of water. Something was stopping his apocalypse. The world should have fallen to it already.

  “What is it? Show me,” he whispered as he buried his hands in the water. The water turned black and roiled for a moment before it cleared into calm again. A toddler boy came into view. A fancy crib, babe swaddled in expensive cloth. Hair the color of ashes, eyes pure white but not blinded. Rurik gasped as he felt the magic flowing through the child. This. This child was the catalyst. The bringer of the apocalypse. He tore his gaze away from the peaceful child and studied the surroundings. He memorized the room so he could use it for his travel spell later.

  Just as he was about to pull out of the spell, it yanked him out of that room and his vision blurred with speed as it raced across the world. Through the twisted and dying lands of the fae-creatures. Rurik somehow managed not to cringe with his disgust, not wanting to disrupt the vision. Miniature fairies surrounded a tiny, frightened child, another young boy. The darkness that filled Rurik allowed him to see what the fae could not. The child they had stolen to replace their own had brilliant, feathered wings hidden from their sight. A celestial. So, they had passed their magic on somehow to the child before they had passed from this world.

  Rurik yanked his hands out of the bowl, disrupting the spell. The confines of his large library surrounded him once more and the darkness faded from him. So. He had found both the destroyer of their world and the savior of it in one spell. He whirled around, his robes flying around his thin frame as he stalked to the runes carved into his floor. He didn’t like the fates interrupting his plans. These weren’t the first he had destroyed to change destiny.

  As he summoned magic to fill the runes of the portal stand, he considered which he should deal with first. He decided on the first child and opened the portal to the bedroom he’d seen in his dream. He stepped through shadows and out through the darkness in the corners of the night-filled room. Even after centuries of terrible things happening, the humans still didn’t understand how to protect against the magical beings destroying their world.

  It was as he’d seen in the vision. No sign of the little boy’s parents as the toddler slept in a crib far too large for him. Beyond the odd color of his hair and eyes, the boy didn’t seem remarkable at all. A normal human child to most. But the magic Rurik could feel thrumming through the baby made his skin crawl. He couldn’t allow that power to be released into this world.

  He gingerly picked up a pillow in his talons. Sacrifices had to be made. He looked around the room once more, then struck swiftly. The babe didn’t even wake before it was over.

  Rurik replaced the pillow then stood there for a moment to make certain the child was indeed dead. With a grimace of distaste, he turned away from the cradle and started gliding back to the shadows and his escape. Just as he was about to step through the shadows, he heard a gasp behind him. He whirled. Impossible, he was certain the child had died.

  The toddler sat up, gasping for breath, his pure white eyes now had golden irises and he stared into Rurik’s eyes with a knowing beyond his age.

  Rurik glanced around in alarm then dove for the crib, grabbing the todder and putting a hand over his mouth before the child could wail an alarm. An immortal? Here? In a plain human settlement? How had that happened? That complicated things. Immortals could be slain but they always revived. He strode to the shadows, commanded them to open, and passed through before the parents of the child could figure out where their child had gone.

  Instead of passing through to his tower, he stepped out of the shadows into a dark castle. The black stone reflected the blood red light of the lanterns but hid Rurik well as he raced down the hall with the child. He had to improvise. This child could never learn of the power he possessed; they had to subjugate him somehow. And none was better at subjugation than Rurik’s own brother.

  He ran into the throne room and stopped. His terrifying brother was not sprawled across the giant throne of blackened dragonbone. “Rhadamanthus!” He called, his voice commanding, backed with magic to reveal his brother if he was hidden.

  “Bold today, brother. Should I remind you of your place?” Rhadamanthus said as he stepped up behind Rurik. Rurik towered over the normal races of the world, the blood of dragons within his veins, but Rhadamanthus was taller yet. Built a god among warriors, none could defeat him, least of all Rurik, even with all his magic. He bowed quickly and held the child up as an offering. “I bring you a powerful new servant, my Master.”

  Rhadamanthus curled his lips back in disgust, revealing his black fangs. “It smells of weak human flesh, and it is yet a babe. What use is that to me beyond feeding to my hounds?”

  Rurik fought a growl. His brother was so blind with his arrogance. “His eyes, Rhad. Look at his eyes. He is an immortal.”

  Rhadamanthus yanked the child away from Rurik, pulling him closer to the light where the lanterns reflected the golden irises. The toddler didn’t seem scared of either of them or the new place; he just frowned at them both and squirmed.

  “I killed him. He came back within moments. He has powerful magic. He will serve you well if you can tame him,” Rurik hissed as he came up behind his brother, using his magic to influence as much as he dared.

  Rhadamanthus whirled on him and tucked the baby under a massive arm. “It is merely a human babe. Of course, I will tame it. Begone. There is much to be done.”

  Rurik did not stay to watch his brother march off with his new prize. The child would be controlled and out of his way, that was what mattered. He stepped into the shadows once more and traveled to the land of the fae. He did not dare simply appear in the room he had seen the child in though.

  He waited for hours in the shadows
of the room, watching the irritating fae float back and forth. The child they had stolen had not settled into the new surroundings like the fae had expected, and he could hear their hushed whispers. It would be difficult for him to steal this one, so he decided on a different approach. He walked out of the shadows and bowed his head to them. He recognized the family of fae as one of the ruling class. “Greetings, noble fae.”

  “It is a dark one!” The King of the fae said in alarm, and his little friends all repeated in their little squeaky voices.

  Rurik somehow managed not to roll his eyes at them. “I could not help but hear you are having troubles with this child you have acquired. I do not think he will settle in here with you. He fears you. I will make you a deal. I will buy him from you.”

  “Buy? He will buy the child?” The King muttered in confusion then turned to confer with his council that flitted about him.

  “Surely this child is nothing but trouble for you. I will give you riches beyond measure for him,” Rurik said, using his magic once more to seduce and influence as he waved a hand. From the shadows a chest overflowing with precious gems appeared. The fae loved to use gems for their spells.

  The collective appreciative gasps that he earned from the fairies let him know he had won. He waited patiently as they dug through the gems and muttered amongst themselves.

  “We have never sold a stolen child,” the fairy that seemed to be the Queen murmured to the King. “This is most unusual. How did he know we stole it? It was to be ours!”

  “The child is nothing but trouble. It was foreseen. We will steal another. He still resists the change!” The King sputtered then hushed her and turned to Rurik and bowed graciously. “We accept the deal, great one.”

  Rurik couldn’t help the smirk as he disappeared into smoke and reappeared next to the celestial child. He had planned to kill this child as well, but now that the first child was still alive, plans had to be changed. The boy tried to run, but Rurik lashed out, lightning-fast, grabbed the boy’s arm, and yanked him through the darkness to his mage-tower. Insurance. This boy was destined to destroy the other to restore the world. Rurik wanted his world to fall to apocalypse but only on his terms. It did not hurt to have this boy to destroy Rhadamanthus’s if it came to that. He would do everything he could to see that was not necessary. The boys would never know the truth of their destinies.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Ashiyn glowered as he stormed through the hallways. He glared at any servants that dared get in his way and they scurried out of sight. He gritted his teeth and ignored the pain in his leg, refusing to limp, even though every step sent pain racing up the barely mended bones in his body. When would he learn to control his tongue? Why did those bad thoughts always come out of his mouth so his Master could hear them? They only earned him beatings. Today had been bad. Today he had died. He hated dying. The death part alone was terrifying, but he always came back no more than a few hours later. The reviving was the annoying part. When he woke his body always hurt like a herd of wild bulls had trampled his corpse. Every part of him ached. He even thought he could even feel pain in every single hair on his head.

  Ashiyn stopped at the unfamiliar voice. He knew all the servants of the castle, and this boy sounded his age. There was no one else as young as he in this castle. He tilted his head and scooted over to the doorway to peer around the corner. The boy did appear to be his age, dark brown hair falling into his chocolate colored eyes. Ashiyn scowled as he recognized the runes on the boy’s blue robes. One of Rurik’s apprentices. Ashiyn didn’t like Rurik. For some reason, his skin always crawled when he was around Rhadamanthus’s brother.

  The boy was trying to convince one of the guards to find Rhadamanthus, so he could deliver a message from Rurik. Ashiyn turned to leave, not wanting to be anywhere near his Master, but he turned back when he heard the unmistakable sound of someone being hit. The guard had struck the boy down to the ground. Before he could move to do it again, Ashiyn was between them, grabbing the guard’s arm and snapping it with his unnatural strength. The guard howled in agony, yanking his offended appendage away.

  “Get out of here before I break more than your arm,” Ashiyn growled at the guard. He bowed only to the Master. All others bowed to him, even though he was barely ten years old. The guard scrambled out of the room bowing and muttering apologies.

  Ashiyn turned back to the other boy who was staring up at him with wide eyes. Ashiyn held out a hand to help the boy up. “Forgive the idiocy of the guards. I will see he is punished more later.”

  The boy swallowed, looking nervous about taking Ashiyn’s hand, but finally he gripped it and let Ashiyn pull him up. Then he dropped his gaze to the floor and bowed. “You are Prince Ashiyn. I beg your forgiveness. I was only supposed to deliver a message to your Master.”

  “Give it to me,” Ashiyn commanded, holding out his hand.

  “I was only supposed to give it to…” The boy started, then winced when Ashiyn narrowed his eyes. He quickly dug in his robes and produced a scroll, which he handed to Ashiyn.

  Ashiyn scowled. It was sealed with Rurik’s seal. He would be difficult to open it without it looking tampered with. He needed to know what it said. He shoved the paper into a bag at his belt. “What is your name?”

  “Soryn, if it pleases you, m’lord,” the other boy said softly, unable to look at Ashiyn. “With your leave-“

  “You don’t have my leave,” Ashiyn tilted his head. He had never been around another his age and Soryn intrigued him. He felt drawn in an odd way to the other boy, and he wanted to figure out why. “Walk with me.”

  “But…” Soryn whispered and looked toward the door.

  “It is not wise to disobey me,” Ashiyn warned as he started walking. “I can do far worse than the guard was going to do to you.”

  Soryn swallowed nervously then fell into step beside Ashiyn. “What can I do for you, my Prince?”

  Ashiyn carefully considered his answer. “I’ve never met another my age. I’m curious. I want to talk to you. Indulge me.”

  “As you say, Prince,” Soryn seemed to relax. “There aren’t others around our age?”

  “No, not here. Are there in Rurik’s towers?” Ashiyn raised a brow as he studied the other boy. Soryn seemed quite ordinary in appearance. Average in every way, though he seemed human like Ashiyn, which was also an oddity. Ashiyn could sense the boy had magic though, magic on a level he hadn’t sensed in anyone else. Magic to rival his own. That alone was curious.

  Soryn played with the runed sleeve of his robe and shrugged lightly as he stayed close. “There are boys of many ages there. I haven’t seen any girls.”

  Ashiyn frowned. There was something odd to Soryn’s tone and the way the other boy was acting skittish. Was Rurik cruel to his servants like Rhadamanthus? They were brothers after all. That thought brought Ashiyn’s attention back to his own aches and pains, though they were fading quickly. He didn’t see any bruises on his new friend, but everything except Soryn’s head was covered and hidden by the long flowing robes he wore. “Is he cruel to you?”

  Soryn’s eyes went wide again and he sputtered. “N-n-no! Of course not. I am grateful to be his apprentice.”

  Ashiyn knew Soryn was lying. He could hear the fear lacing the words. That made him frown. He nearly opened his mouth to command Soryn to tell Rurik to let him visit, but something stopped him. He didn’t want either of their Masters finding out. “You should go back before you are missed. I want you to come again, though. When you won’t be missed. I don’t want either of our Masters to know we have met.”

  “As you say,” Soryn said, stopping to bow, then he turned and bolted the other way.

  Ashiyn narrowed his eyes and pulled the scroll out of his armor to look at the seal again. Then he scowled and stalked to his chambers to find a way to break the seal without his Master knowing he’d done it. Rurik was a schemer and not to be trusted. Whatever he was planning, Ashiyn needed to know.

  Unfortunately, although h
is attempts to open the missive succeeded, the message was written in a magical code that the brothers shared so that no one else could read their messages. Ashiyn had tried for years to decipher it but had not succeeded. He growled in frustration and used his magic to carefully restore the seal on the scroll.

  Loathe as he was to return so soon to his Master, Rhadamanthus should still be sated by the earlier death and in a more pliable and forgiving mood. Ashiyn gathered himself and stalked down to where he could sense his Master. He wasn’t surprised to find Rhadamanthus with a woman who was bent over a table. Ashiyn had learned long ago that situations such as this were the best time to approach his Master. Rhadamanthus didn’t seem to mind the interruption.

  “Here so soon, boy? I thought you’d be hiding like a mouse,” Rhadamanthus said as he glanced over to Ashiyn standing in the corner of the room. He smirked when he caught Ashiyn staring at the naked woman being used beneath him and doubled his efforts. “Yes, enjoy her. Soon you’ll learn this as well.”