Night of the Storm: An Epic Fantasy Novel (The Eura Chronicles Book 2)

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Night of the Storm: An Epic Fantasy Novel (The Eura Chronicles Book 2) Page 8

by K.N. Lee

“What about The Flame? Are you still searching for her?”

  A grin appeared on Dragnor’s face. “Don’t worry. I’ve already found her.”

  IT WAS A LONG WAY DOWN from where Lilae stood on the balcony of her room in the Citadel guest house.

  Lilae looked down at the stone beneath her. She clutched the railing, afraid that somehow she would fall to her death.

  Lilae was never fond of heights.

  Still, she couldn’t help standing there, taking in the magnificent view of Gollush and its thousands of citizens.

  The cavern was tall enough to house buildings that rivaled any that Lilae had ever seen in her many travels through Eura. The narrow stone towers were sure to house hundreds of elves at a time, with ten to twenty rows of windows that looked out of the circular structures.

  Clearly, this civilization had spent thousands of years building, growing, and advancing.

  This, Nostfar, was nothing like she’d imagined it to be.

  Footsteps drew Lilae’s attention. She glanced back at Pretica as she walked from Lilae’s room to the small balcony.

  “I bet you never expected such an achievement from Shadow Elves,” Pretica said with a tight smile on her lips. She stood beside Lilae and shrugged. “I know of your folktales and scary bedtime stories.”

  Lilae’s cheeks reddened. “You’re right. I did not.”

  “That’s fine. We have stories about you too,” she said with a chuckle. “We thought your teeth would be pointier. Sharp enough to bite our throats like the stories my mother used to tell Ayoki and I.”

  Lilae’s eyes widened, having never seen a sharp-toothed humans in all of her life. “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  Pretica wrapped her long fingers around the railing and used it to stretch her arms. “I much prefer reality to the pictures I made in my head about you humans and Tryans.”

  “As do I,” Lilae said. She stepped away from the balcony and sat on the bench against the wall of the tower. “Your sister. The Seer. How long ago did the Bellens take her?”

  Pretica tensed at the mention of her sister and the Bellens.

  Lilae was curious. Her experience with Sister Eloni hadn’t been pleasant. The woman had tried to kill her after pretending to be a friend and ally. Lilae hoped that the Seer wasn’t in any trouble.

  They needed her.

  “I worry about her,” Pretica said, her face becoming serious as she looked out at the city below. “She is fragile.”

  “How so?”

  “Ayoki is not very…stable,” Pretica said, her voice lowering. “Her power is not like yours and Liam’s. It consumes her.”

  Lilae sat up straighter, intrigued. “What can she do?”

  Pretica turned on her heels, so abruptly that Lilae tensed, expecting to get hit for asking the question.

  “Come, you’re clean, in new clothes; let’s get you some weapons, shall we?”

  Lilae nodded, her eyes narrowing when Pretica didn’t wait for a reply and simply stalked back into Lilae’s room and to the door that led to the stairs.

  Now, she wanted to know even more about what exactly the Seer could do.

  Whatever it was, it had caused absolute terror to fill Pretica’s eyes despite her attempt to change the subject and fix a fake smile to her lips.

  Lilae stood and followed Pretica.

  Secrets.

  She never liked those.

  “WEAPONS,” PRETICA SAID, motioning to a long table at the back of the armory on one of the locked lower levels of the Citadel. “You’ll need them if you want to make it to the Goblin City safely. Chosen or not, there are many creatures and enemies between Gollush and Vaugner’s tower that I wouldn’t want to face unarmed.”

  Delia sat on a bench, wrapped in freshly laundered brown robes as she examined a glowing Shadow Elf dagger.

  Lilae, Liam, and Rowe tested weapons that caught their eye.

  Liam knew quite well about the enemies Pretica spoke of. During his time in the Order, he’d fought Shadow Elves for longer than he cared to recall. They already swarmed much of Kyril. He just hoped his mother, Queen Aria was safe from the increasing threat.

  “Thank you, Pretica,” Lilae said.

  Liam watched Lilae sheath a Valhorian long sword into her new finely crafted scabbard, and a dagger in each boot. She looked fine in her new, clean Shadow Elf light armor. The form-fitting brown leather clung to her curves. A silver breastplate covered her full bosom, over a tunic that was tucked into soft hide pants. Even her boots were impressive, hard and covered in more silver armor.

  Liam was certain Lilae would look attractive in anything she wore.

  “You’re welcome. I hate to admit that there are more enemies in the woods than allies. Nostfar creatures can be treacherous.”

  “I’ve come face to face with a basilisk from Nostfar before,” Lilae said. “I still have the scar.”

  “At least you have your life,” Pretica added.

  “These are fine weapons,” Rowe said. He tested the weight of multiple axes.

  Liam raised a Shadow Elf sword. A cast of his Tryan power into its steel made it glow a dim yellow. He made sure to use very little power, just to test whether or not it was safe to use his Enchant without breaking the blade.

  “You don’t have to hold back, Liam. Our steel is one of the strongest in all of the realms. Only the Silver Elves can rival our weapon forging. Our gods are sisters after all. It isn’t a surprise that their people would have such similar qualities.”

  “Aden is known for creating complex gods,” Delia stuck a dagger in her belt. “I dare say Ellowen has the most varied gods in all of the worlds.”

  “Indeed,” Pretica said with a nod.

  Liam poured more of his power into the sword, testing the steel’s limits. Each surge of his essence made the sword’s glow change color. It went from yellow to orange to blood red. At it’s maximum input, the sword glowed a deep blue.

  Liam’s brows rose. “This sword can now cut through stone like a knife through softened cheese.”

  “I approve of this ax,” Rowe added, his ax burning a deep red as he gave it a swing through the air.

  A smile came to Pretica’s face. One of the first they’d seen on the otherwise serious woman. “I am honored by your approval.”

  Pretica nodded to the map in Lilae’s side purse.

  “The map will show you the fastest route to where The Barrier between Nostfar and Eura once was. After that, you’ll follow the river to the Goblin City. We haven’t been able to document much of the path through Eura, but I believe there is one human town between The Barrier and your destination.”

  Lilae cried out, and everyone stopped what they were doing.

  She fell to her knees with a pained look on her face, and Liam met her on the floor, catching her in his arms.

  “Lilae?”

  Lilae clutched his neck. “Help. The pain. My skin!” Her thin fingers struggled to take off her armor. She cried out again, a scream so blood curdling that it gave Liam chills.

  Delia was on her feet in seconds, helping Lilae remove her clothing. Liam took a dagger from Lilae’s boot and cut through the fastenings of her armor and the buttons on her tunic.

  When she fainted, Liam’s mind turned to the worst possible outcome.

  She cannot die. Please. Not her.

  Opening her clothing revealed cream-colored undergarments stained with fresh blood. Delia touched Lilae’s odd black tattoos of symbols Liam vaguely remembered from his studies during his time in the vaults as a young boy.

  Lilae’s tattoos started to bleed as if the symbols cut and burned her skin. Blood dripped onto the floor and onto Liam’s hands.

  “Holy Elahe,” Pretica gasped. “Those tattoos. I’ve seen those symbols in the old temple ruins.” She pointed at Lilae, stepped away. “She’s marked by dark magic.”

  “Magic from the Underworld,” Delia said. Her glare lifted to Pretica, her white cheeks reddening with fury.

  �
��How?” Pretica stepped away from Lilae as if the tattoos would infect her somehow.

  “Dragnor did this,” Delia snarled. “He’s collecting on his promise to make Lilae suffer no matter how far she runs. He is a vengeful soul, one that I cannot wait to get my hands on.”

  Liam clenched his jaw, vowing to end the Shadow Elf’s life the first chance he got. But now, he needed to help Lilae. He collected her writhing body in his arms.

  His heart raced as she cried out in pain. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, showing only the whites.

  “I’m not letting him harm her. We’ve healed each other before,” he said to Delia, desperate for some kind of confirmation that what he had said was true. “Maybe I can heal her now.”

  “Maybe.” Delia’s eyes widened as she nodded her head. She touched Lilae, withdrawing her hand as if Lilae’s skin had burned her. “This magic is strong. You can certainly try.”

  “Take her to the infirmary. Maybe one of our clerics can help her as well, though we know nothing of combating dark magic such as this.”

  Liam nodded, looking down at Lilae’s pale face as she hung lifeless in his arms. “Show me the way.”

  WAKING UP IN AN EMPTY ROOM was jarring.

  Lilae sat up in her bed as heat filled her legs, like when she’d run for too long with Pirin and the twins.

  She rubbed her legs in an attempt to ease the lingering pain. All she remembered was darkness, agony, and Dragnor’s face.

  But, to her delight, Liam was there, waiting for her to wake up.

  “How do you feel?” Liam handed her a warm cup of tea. “The healer retired for the evening. I refused to leave you here all alone.”

  The corners of Lilae’s lips lifted as their eyes met. She accepted the cup, a ragged cough coming out instead of words of gratitude.

  Liam put a hand on her back and started gently patting it.

  “I’m okay,” Lilae said in between coughs. She winced, an unsettling rush of heat filling her once again.

  Liam sat in the chair beside her, watching with concern-filled eyes. “Do you need anything else?”

  Lilae shook her head. The coughs ceased. “Thank you, Liam.”

  She tried to steady her hands as she took a sip of the dark liquid, delighted by the surprisingly sweet and minty flavor. She let out a long breath as she leaned back against the wall.

  “What happened?”

  He folded his arms and leaned his back against the door. “The tattoos Dragnor put on you. He used them to hurt you.”

  Remembering his face in her dreams horrified her.

  What was Dragnor up to?

  Could he truly hurt her from so far away?

  Lilae’s face paled. “I almost forgot about his promise. He’ll never let me be.”

  “The Gollushan healers were able to suppress its effects with a little magic of their own. We just don’t know how long it will last.”

  “So, I am at his will again.” Lilae lowered her eyes to the symbols on her arm. She wished she could claw them off.

  “I hate to see you suffer. There has to be something I can do.”

  “You can relax. I’ll be okay.” Lilae forced a smile despite the anger boiling inside of her. “I’m stronger than I look.”

  “I don’t doubt it. We have to stop the Shadow Elf that did this to you.”

  “I know. I should have killed him when I had the chance.”

  Liam stepped away from the door and knelt down before Lilae’s bed.

  “Give me your hand,” he said, a curious smile on his face. “I want to try something.”

  Lilae sat up a little straighter when Liam took her hand into his own. She bit her lip as he placed the palm of her hand against his cheek.

  He was so warm, and his scent was nearly intoxicating. She would be happy to be close to him always.

  She eyed his full lips as he closed his eyes.

  “Relax,” Liam whispered.

  “Okay. I will try.”

  Lilae was sure he’d hear her heart beating and tried to slow her breaths.

  She jumped when a flood of cold filled her. The sensation was unlike anything she’d ever felt. It was as if Liam replaced her blood with cold water. Curious, she watched his face, seeing the glow of his skin fading. Her eyes widened when she noticed that her skin started to glow.

  The pain started to lessen.

  “Oh my,” Lilae breathed.

  “You felt that?”

  That would be an understatement.

  “Yes. I still do.”

  “Splendid.” His eyes brightened. “How do you feel?”

  “I could kiss you,” Lilae joked. “I feel amazing.”

  Liam didn’t reply. Instead, he leaned over and kissed Lilae on the cheek.

  He stood, and Lilae’s hand touched the spot his soft lips had touched.

  “I’ve never used my Enchant on a person before,” he said. “Hopefully, its effects will last.” He opened the door. “And if the pain returns, I’ll use it again.”

  Lilae nodded, watching him with disappointment as he began to leave.

  “Don’t go,” she whispered.

  Liam paused. “What was that?” He looked back at her.

  Lilae swallowed. “Stay with me. Please.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I am.”

  Liam nodded. His face turned serious.

  Was he was conflicted by her request?

  Doubt filled Lilae. Did she really just say that? Her mind raced. She’d never been so forward before. But Liam gave her courage, and she now understood just how short life was.

  Too short to hide one’s feelings and desires.

  Lilae took a breath and pulled the quilt aside so that he could climb into bed with her.

  “Please.” She offered a smile.

  Sharing a bed with a man before marriage wasn’t proper, but she cared nothing about such things. She just needed Liam’s company and perhaps his protection.

  Nothing more.

  She didn’t want to be alone—not with Dragnor threatening to invade her dreams. Liam was her dream man. Perhaps just being near him would fight that Shadow Elf’s evil.

  Liam closed the heavy door and took off his boots. She scooted and let him under the quilt with her. Her heart raced. Having him so close excited her. Turning her back to his chest, she melted into his warm embrace.

  Bliss.

  “I do hope you get to meet my mother one day, Lilae,” Liam whispered. “I think she’d adore you.”

  “I’ve never met a queen before. What is she like?”

  “My mother is kind, wise, and always made sure I knew she loved me.”

  “Lucky,” Lilae said, closing her eyes as sleep began to overtake her. “I wish I’d had that growing up.”

  Liam held her close, his warmth relaxing her into oblivion. “You can have that now.”

  Lilae drifted to sleep with the sound of Liam’s breathing and the feel of his breath on her hair.

  “Goodnight, Lilae.”

  SOON SONA WOULD FACE the woman that had once looked at her with love. The mother of the man she had loved with every ounce of her being.

  Aria had no idea what was coming.

  The look in Liam’s eyes when she’d stabbed him still haunted her.

  Now, she had to ruin his mother.

  Sickened by her own deeds, Sona walked through the abandoned manor with her swords down at her sides. Despite the current state of Oren, the manor she had grown up in looked virtually untouched.

  Even as the green fog lingered in the air, seeping into the large building, one could clearly see the glory of what it once was. Beautiful tapestries still hung on the stone walls. Lush carpets still stretched unruffled along the quartz floors.

  Once she entered the main hall, she slid the swords into their harness against her back. Emperor Kavien’s words still circulated within her mind.

  There was something about that man she just couldn’t understand. She wondered if his insanity wa
s for the good of the new world, or if there was someone better to take his place. Someone like her.

  She heard something, footsteps, and turned around. A servant peered around the corner of the wall at her. He was sickly, barely more than a pale skeleton.

  Sona raised an eyebrow. He looked afraid. He was all alone. She met his eyes and slowly took a small knife out of her belt. He glanced down at her hand, and she threw it at him, tossing him backward as the blade impaled his skull.

  Leave no one alive.

  She felt a lump in her throat as she listened to the silence. His small body lay sprawled before the grand archway leading into the main hall.

  She’d killed her entire family.

  She looked up at her father. He hung from his neck at the top of the staircase.

  Lord Rochfort had made her what she was. Even then, his soulless, lifeless, eyes frightened her. She stared at him, half expecting him to come down and scold her for ruining their plan. He would beat her, making sure to leave her face untouched. That face was his only chance to gain influence in the Orenian palace.

  Sona was his sixth daughter, the only one bred to possess Charm. Children were like a lottery to him, always anxious to see what skill they would be born with. Five children were born with nothing. Sona was born with a skill that would ruin any shred of her virtue.

  Charm was something that could either be a blessing or a curse, depending on how it was used. Lord Rochfort made sure Sona never knew what a childhood or even a true moment of love was like.

  Now, he was dead, and Sona had killed him. She’d wrapped the rope around his neck and kicked him off the banister. With her increased powers, he’d been defenseless.

  “Did you have to have everything?” Sona stared up at him from the bottom of the staircase.

  He couldn’t hear her, and yet she expected an answer. He was one of the wealthiest men in the realm. Why couldn’t he be happy? Still, even as she contemplated such things, she knew she was just like him. She had inherited his blind ambition and wanted more than just influence in the Orenian palace.

  Sona wanted the world.

  Something dripped onto her forehead. She looked up at the ceiling. Blood was splattered and pooled everywhere. She hadn’t shown mercy to even the lowliest scullery maid. She wiped the blood with the back of her hand, smearing it across her pale, white, forehead.

 

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