by K.N. Lee
He’d studied the prophecies. He knew what was coming.
“I know, Lady Cardelia. We’ve prepared for years now. I am ready,” he said, standing just a little taller. He tried to give a reassuring smile.
Liam knew she already doubted him in her head. Many of his subjects looked at him with skepticism. This was supposed to be our savior? He could read that very question in their eyes. He wasn’t a big man or remarkably tall. He was too skinny compared to his warrior friends. Liam feared that he was too…ordinary to be someone special.
He started toward the door and she caught him by the wrist. “Prince Liam, listen for a moment.”
He lifted a brow. Her face looked troubled.
“I know you’re leaving tomorrow and everything, but promise me something.”
Liam nodded. “What is it?” He wanted to make his way to his private quarters. He wanted to get a good night’s rest before he left with the Order of Oren. His friends would be ready and waiting for him in the morning.
Lady Cardelia’s eyes were wet with tears. It made Liam uncomfortable. She had always been the strictest of tutors. He didn’t like seeing her façade fade.
“Don’t let anything you see out there in the wild lands change you. Don’t let anyone taint your good heart, especially that foul woman that dares to call herself a lady.”
“Watch yourself. Lady Rochfort is my fiancée.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know how you chose her out of every lovely young woman at court. She isn’t good enough for you.”
He turned away from her. Why wasn’t she being fair about Sona? Sona never did anything to hurt anyone.
“She loves me,” Liam replied. “And who says I’m good enough for any of those women outside those doors?”
“You speak as if you are incapable of being loved. We all love you, Liam. There is no need to settle. Most of those people out there have no idea what you really are, but I know. You fight for our entire race. Stay focused, and don’t let us down.”
She had never spoken this way. Her words worried him. “I promise.” He left her in the empty cloakroom and entered the busy hallway. It was after midnight and the ball was still in full swing.
He walked with his hands in his pockets, and then remembered Lord Eisenmoore’s gentleman’s training and quickly took them out. While Lady Cardelia had spent years training him to be a scholar, Lord Eisenmoore tried his best to train Liam to be the perfect gentleman, the future king. Still, he forgot some things at times.
“Prince Liam,” the guests said whenever he passed. They bowed and glanced at him in awe. Sixteen years secluded in the vaults, and nine more spent in the walls of the military stronghold in the north, and none of his civilian subjects had ever seen his face, until, tonight.
Liam nodded to each of those who addressed him. Though he walked with his back straight and his face calm, inside, he was a swirl of nausea for being stared at so. His black hair had been brushed and styled differently than any man who attended the ball.
“A future king must set the trends,” Lord Eisenmoore said, “not follow them.” Tomorrow, most of the men in court would try to sport the same hairstyle.
Liam wore a rich red and white tailored suit and walked with his jewel-encrusted sword at his hip. There was a time when a weapon felt foreign to him, but after being locked away with the other soldiers of the elite Order of Oren, he was never without his sword again. It was an extension of him now, and he wielded it with an expertise that couldn’t be explained in someone so young.
Faces: smiling faces, judging faces, envious faces, adoring faces. So many faces, and he didn’t recognize any of them. He wished his best friend, Rowe, were a nobleman. He wished the captain had been allowed to come. Instead, he was forced to mingle with complete strangers, people who probably secretly wanted him to fail.
Liam was the only heir, and there were those who wanted him dead. There were fools who coveted the throne. They still went about their political intrigues and scheming as if everything was the same. They had no idea what was coming to their realm.
Liam avoided the stares and looked up at his mother. Queen Aria seemed to glow a little brighter than the other Tryans around her.
This was Kyril, realm of the Tryans and the fairies. Every Tryan had a glow that reached from the inside out, and yet she stood out as if a light shone only for her. He felt a lump in his throat. Her piercing gaze rested on him and she smiled. This might be his last night seeing her beautiful face, and in an instant, he could see that same thought reflected in her eyes.
Oh, mother, he thought. Stop reading my mind!
She grinned. It was a secret smile and only Liam knew its meaning. Forgive me, it is a terrible habit, she said silently back to him.
Liam walked up the short staircase to the row of thrones. There were only two, when there had once been three. His father had been dead for twenty years now and he still remembered where he used to sit up there.
“Liam, my boy,” Queen Aria said and hugged him.
Liam stood beside her and there was a loud cheer from the crowd. She raised his hand up with hers and smiled down at the large ballroom packed with Tryans dressed in their absolute best finery.
“Tonight,” she called. “My son salutes you all, for he is the chosen one who will deliver us from the hands of evil. These are indeed dark times. He will rid our realm of the murderous Shadow Elf clans that invade our territory. He will protect us.”
The crowd cheered even louder. Liam almost wanted to shout at them. They knew nothing. Shadow Elves weren’t nearly as bad as what they really should fear. As Queen Aria smiled at the crowd, she locked arms with Liam.
Liam, I love you, she said silently to him. Even while she smiled at her people, Liam could feel the tension. I’ve tried to protect you for as long as I could, but I fear The Barriers are being opened. We both know, there are more sinister things in the works. We both know that Wexcyn wants you dead. She looked at him, worry lines tainting her forehead. She gave his hand a squeeze. Please, don’t get yourself killed out there. Get the talisman from the Alden clan in Raeden and wait for my word. I fear the time to meet the others is upon us.
Liam nodded. Do not worry mother, Liam thought. His mother could read most anyone’s mind; his was not immune. The Alden clan will willingly give us the talisman for safekeeping. And as far as the Shadow Elves are concerned…they don’t know the havoc I will unleash upon them.
He could feel his adrenaline start to rush. The time for reading books and scrolls was over. The time for training and preparing had come to an end. He thumbed his hilt. Tomorrow, his sword would taste blood, and there would be no turning back.
Chapter 5
The sky was a dull gray and the air was cool. Dew clung to the thin overhanging branches and the mountain air smelled sweet. It was just before dawn and Liam was ready for battle. He sat tall above his black horse, waiting patiently for the right moment. Liam's wild black hair fluttered in the morning breeze. He tilted his head and listened to The Winds as they whispered to him.
They’re coming for you, they warned.
His pulse quickened. “What?” Without a reply, they faded with the crisp breeze.
Liam overlooked the dark, rocky cliff as the sun began to rise. The orange rays tried to penetrate the storm clouds, but Liam wouldn’t allow it yet. At the bottom of that cliff, in the valley where the Silver River flowed, slept the enemy.
He wanted them to continue sleeping peacefully. It was important to catch them off guard. Liam wanted these intruders to know that they were not welcome in his realm.
Liam patted Midnight, his battle horse, and smoothed his hind leg. He leaned forward and spoke in a hushed tone to the horse. “Are you ready?”
Midnight neighed in reply and kicked his legs.
Liam smiled and sat up straight. He waved a hand and motioned for the troupe of soldiers behind him to move closer. There were about a hundred Tryan soldiers waiting for his command. T
hey looked around at the empty space before them and the long drop beneath them. Still, Liam had their complete trust.
Liam held the reigns tightly and took a deep breath. The cool air entered his lungs and he closed his eyes. He focused on his power, the energy that flowed within his veins. The clouds began to move closer together, creating a tight knit form in the sky that completely blocked the sun. When Liam opened his eyes, they were no longer blue. They were as black as night.
The Tryans behind him were unafraid. They were the elite warriors of the Order of Oren. Liam had been locked away with those men and women for nearly ten years. He had trained with them, and lived with them as an equal.
Commoners like Rowe, and nobles like Sona, none of that mattered in the Order. This group was like family and they would follow him into the Underworld if necessary. They waited for Liam to signal them. One hand clutched the reins of their horses, the other on the hilts of their swords.
Liam raised his large jewel-encrusted sword into the air with a loud cry, and urged Midnight on. Midnight jumped, and over the cliff they went. Liam held tight. His eyes narrowed fiercely and his sword began to glow white in the darkness. The horse’s hooves searched for footing and found none.
Thunder cracked loudly above them, as if the sky was about to break open and fall upon them with rage. Liam sucked in a breath of the cool air and lightning shot across the sky. Liam caught the light in his sword and directed it beneath them, making a pathway of blinding light so that his men could file steadily behind him.
The horses’ hooves sparked along the road of lightning, a shrill sound deafening them as they slid toward the ground. The valley led them directly to the camp of Shadow Elves.
The effect was perfect, so perfect that Liam couldn’t help but crack a smile. Liam wanted it to look as though he and his men were coming straight from the sky. The Shadow Elves woke with a start at the noise as an army of horses jumped from the path of lightning and trampled into the rocky valley. The vibrations shook the terrain and their enemy was frozen with obvious terror. In an instant, the battle began.
A swarm of Shadow Elves scrambled from their tents. They moved with such speed that their figures were barely traceable. However, Tryan eyes were equipped to spot them. Even though they darted in and out of the shadows, they couldn’t hide.
The Shadow Elves hissed like snakes when they saw the royal colors of the Oren palace. There was blue and red on their breastplates and armor. With Liam leading them, it made them all the more fearsome.
The Shadow Elves had heard about the prince. Liam was the first male heir in centuries and his reputation in the field was notorious amongst the invading elves. Ten years in training and smaller battles with rival clans and wildlings had made Liam a force to be reckoned with. His grim expression was illuminated by another flash of lightning. He swung his enchanted sword and lightning whipped out like a terrifying rope of electric currents. It cut through groups of elves like butter, slaying them by the dozens. The remaining elves began to flee from its path.
Yes, just run away. Liam grinned in triumph as they retreated back to their own barrier. This can end quickly if you just run. And many did run, back to the cruel, dark realm of Nostfar.
The Shadow Elves who remained were quick and agile, with fighting styles that the Orens had never seen. They were like predators, calculating and precise. One leapt from the ground and reached for Liam’s sword.
Liam saw him coming and sliced the elve’s outstretched hand off. The glow of his sword made the wound sizzle as though it had been stuck with a hot poker. The smell of burning flesh struck Liam’s nostrils as the Shadow Elf shrieked in pain and tumbled to the ground.
Before Liam could turn, another was on his back, a blue crystal dagger clutched in its grasp. It never ceased to amaze him how lightning fast they were; like cats, they pounced and darted. His eyes widened as the blade came toward his face.
He turned his head and grabbed the Shadow Elf by its long black hair, slinging it to the ground with such force that it flew into a nearby tree. Liam’s eyes tracked the body, and with a point of his sword, he sent a flash of light that knocked the Shadow Elf from the branches and onto the hard ground. One more down. Liam grinned as he turned Midnight around, and charged headfirst into an oncoming flurry of Shadow Elves with the power of the Ancient Pyrii flowing through his veins.
***
Rowe charged through the masses with untamed vigor. His ax hung low at the side of his horse. His pulse quickened as he gripped the heavy ax in his large fist, the bands on the hilt pressing hard into his roughened palm.
Rowe lifted it slightly and with a grunt, he leaned forward, swinging the ax powerfully into the heads of the surrounding Shadow Elves. A spray of blood filled the air like a fog.
Skin split open and bone crushed beneath his ax. It glowed blue, and he knew that it stung their flesh as it cut through. The yells and noise was deafening, and so was the blood that rushed as his heart pumped with adrenaline.
Rowe’s horse wouldn’t slow. Like every other horse on the battlefield that a Tryan rode, they were connected with their rider. They could feel the same, sense their thoughts, and anticipate what the rider wanted. The horse veered right and into another group of Shadow Elves that tried to slice the horse’s belly or legs, trying anything to get the Tryan soldier to the ground.
Rowe kicked one with his heavy booted foot and thrust the ax into the neck of another. The glowing blade sliced straight through the soft flesh of its neck and barely paused to cut through the bone. Other elves looked in horror as the head rolled off of its body to the muddy ground.
Rowe sat up and swung the blood from his blade, not stopping as he continued on to the next unfortunate being in his eyesight.
***
“Sona!” The Tryan woman on the white horse heard someone shout her name from beyond the dense cluster of elves she was attacking.
Her head snapped up toward the voice, her hands tight on her horse’s reins. Rowe pointed to a tent on the far side of the field.
“There!”
Sona nodded and her horse instantly understood the orders. They galloped through the crowd as the Shadow Elves continued to fight with the Tryan soldiers on the ground. Sona grinned despite the calamity all around her.
The Shadow Elves reached for her as she passed by, but her horse was too fast for them. She ran them over with such a force that many lay crushed behind.
Once they reached the tent, she hopped from the horse’s back. Sona reached both hands over her head and grabbed her dual swords from behind her. The swords glowed blue with her touch, and with a face of determination, she charged through the tents flaps. Inside, three Shadow Elves crouched over a circular table.
Her large blue eyes widened. The surface of the table was black, like smoke, and images of other Shadow Elves flickered along the smoke. The smoke disappeared and the Shadow Elf captains lunged at her.
“Kill the Tryan!”
With a curved sword in each hand, she crisscrossed them and sliced the first elf straight through his abdomen. With a pull of the swords, she cut him in half. Blood splattered onto the tent’s walls as she flung one sword at the elf to her right.
He fell backward with the force of her throw, as the sword lodged into his spine. The screams filled her ears, but she was in a trance. With only one sword, she saw the other elf dart to her like lightning.
Sona grunted as he elbowed her in the face before she could catch him with her sword. She tasted the saltiness of her own blood and it enraged her. Her eyes narrowed. He may have caught her off guard with his Shadow Walk, but he would only get one hit. She would not make that mistake twice.
Her sword caught the handle of his dagger and tossed it into the air. He growled and ducked as she tried to cut off his head. The glowing sword missed, but she anticipated his move and kicked him in the chin, knocking him backward. She lunged on top of him, her sword’s blade pressed against his neck.
“Who sent you?”
Sona clenched her teeth as he tried to push her off.
His thin eyes were completely white and matched his tattoos almost perfectly. A smile spread across his face. “Is that a trick question?” he asked with a raised brow and a grin that was meant to taunt Sona.
Sona's gaze bore into his, watching the light fade from his eyes as she pressed the blade into his neck. He wrapped his thin hands around her throat in a desperate attempt to stop her. She closed her eyes and finished the job. His hands fell back to the ground, limp and lifeless.
Sona stood and closed her eyes. Heart thumping, she wiped a streak of the Shadow Elves blood on both cheeks, readied her swords, and stepped from the tent and into the blackness of night that only her fiancé’ could have arranged on a spring morning.
She saw him on his black horse, regal, and full of a confidence he normally didn’t display. She watched him, as she let the light from her glowing body seep into her swords. A tiny bit of light made them blue. A tiny bit more made them yellow. She shook a bit as she poured nearly all of her light into the swords.
And made them red with power.
Chapter 6
Liam saw that the Order was doing well. In the distance, Sona ran through the surrounding masses with her swords over enchanted so much that the red glow caused a cloud of smoke to encircle her.
Seeing her in action was like witnessing a tale from the story books he’d been read as a child. He was proud of her.
He never doubted any of them, but he could see that some of the men were fighting only to be surprised by the elves’ speed. This made them focus even harder, and fight with more intensity. Once you had an elf in your sight, you’d better kill them quick, lest they slip through your fingers, and stab you in the back.
Liam breathed hard, the adrenaline surging through him. He saw Sona climb onto her horse again, bloodstained, but as beautiful as a goddess.