by K.N. Lee
The Tryans had so much to prove to the other races, and Liam was confident that his Order were the perfect warriors for the task.
Liam looked to the brightening sky. The fairies were busy keeping track of anyone wounded, ready to heal anyone in need. His reflexes were sharp. He heard the wind swish as a Shadow Elf raced through the crowd and onto the back of Liam’s horse. He felt the cold hands reach around his neck, a small blade at his throat. Liam clenched his jaw.
“You sure you want to try that?” He looked down at the Shadow Elf’s ash-colored arm, the white tattoos standing out against his skin.
“Shut up,” the Shadow Elf spat. “You better end this now or I will slit your throat. We’ll see who wins this battle when your precious royal blood spills onto the ground.”
Liam felt the blade dig into his flesh and he elbowed the Shadow Elf in his stomach. There was a grunt of pain, but the blade barely moved. Liam clenched his fist around his sword’s hilt and the lightning radiated through his body and into the Shadow Elf.
The blade at Liam’s throat dropped. The Shadow Elf convulsed with a cry as the lightning circulated throughout him. His organs burned, and then his muscles, until the currents ate away at his bone and skin.
The remaining Shadow Elves saw this and Liam could tell that their resolve wavered; they slowed to a stop and backed away. They raised their weapons above their heads in surrender. The Tryans watched Liam to see what he would do, if he would show mercy to the stragglers.
When the Shadow Elves saw that Liam merely glared at them, they lowered their hands, their shadowed faces draining of their will to fight. Only a couple dozen were left alive and they reluctantly backed away, making sure that Liam or the others weren’t going to come after them.
When the elves saw that he stood his ground, they turned and joined the others in fleeing. They ran as fast as the wind, looking like nothing more than haunted shadows as they disappeared into the forest. The army camp was overthrown within minutes and every Shadow Elf had either fled back toward Nostfar or lay dead on the grassy field.
***
“We lost three,” Rowe reported to Liam. He stopped a few feet from Midnight and looked up at the prince. Liam kept his face absent of emotion. He was captain of the Order. The title had been passed to him, and at merely thirty-two, he was the youngest to ever earn such a title.
Liam lowered his sword, his eyes returning to the most crystalline blue that mocked the purest sea. The clouds began to part and the sun shone its light onto the carnage that tainted the valley. Liam hopped from Midnight’s back and bent down to a corpse.
Three loses out of a hundred wasn’t bad, but Liam felt partly responsible for those deaths. He was supposed to protect them. He sighed and nodded. All of those men were like brothers to him. He hated to imagine which ones had died.
“Offer them to the Silver River. May they have better luck in the Underworld.” The men would be laid upon rafts and set ablaze before being sent down the river. It was a proper soldier’s funeral. “May Lord Elahe bless them.”
Rowe nodded and gave orders to Tuvin to take care of the task. The soldier gave a quick nod and hurried off. Rowe watched Liam for a moment as he knelt over a dead Shadow Elf, staring at it.
Liam rubbed the blackish blood between his fingers. He was in deep thought. He remembered the first time he’d seen a horde of Shadow Elves. It was his fifth year in the Order, and they had been attacked in the early dawn.
They were like shadows, demons that stalked the night at speeds that left Liam and the other men on edge. Liam had almost been slit by a glowing dagger before his eyes could even adjust to their speed. The elf’s maniacal sharp-toothed grin still lingered in his mind. He was thankful that Rowe had been by his side. It wasn’t the first time that Rowe had saved his life.
“Liam?”
Liam looked up at his best friend and raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Are you all right?”
Liam nodded and came to his feet. “I’m fine. Tired is all. I may have overdone it on the lightning.” The other ninety-seven soldiers were gathered around him.
Rowe reached into his side pocket and tossed him a vial. Liam thanked him and popped the cork. A cloud of fog escaped and he drank the liquid gingerly. He savored its replenishing waters.
Rowe waited for him to return the vial. He handed it to a passing fairy to refill it. The waters of the Silver River ran through Kyril and Alfheim, but only a fairy could bless it, and encourage its rejuvenating properties.
“They managed to get a lot closer this time.”
“Yes. I know. I can’t understand how though.” Liam hated lying to his friends. He knew why, and the explanation was an impossible one.
The Guardians were awakened. They were the only ones who could open the doors to The Barriers. They had guarded and protected the doors for centuries, keeping the races safe from each other, keeping dark things from polluting the realms.
He wiped his hands clean on his pants. Liam stood tall amongst his kinsmen and cracked his knuckles. He spoke to them in a solemn tone.
“Gather all of the enemy bodies and burn them.” His jaw clenched. This wasn’t what he expected to see so soon. There had to be a couple hundred in this small force, but it was more elves than they’d ever seen.
“I don’t want their stinking blood tainting our soil.” The soldiers voiced their agreement; some spat on the bodies and went to follow their orders.
Liam looked up at the mountain that they had jumped from; it was massive, reaching toward the clouds. Its rocky terrain lead down the valley and through the rushing Silver River. He had dreamed of such mountains when he was a child.
There was a time when he was confined to the palace, when his mother, Queen Aria, was too overprotective to let him leave the courtyard. She would hold his hand when they visited other kingdoms and his eyes would widen with wonder at the different landscapes of Kyril. He was grateful for her love and protection, but the day he first picked up a sword had changed his life.
Rowe’s approach broke him from his thoughts. The tall, brawny man came closer and spoke quietly. “What do you think this all means?”
Liam glanced at him and up at the sky. All of the storm clouds had vanished. “It means the Realm Wars have begun.”
Rowe shook his head. “This is getting out of control. I don’t even know if we’re really helping. The Shadow Elves outnumber us at least ten to one.”
“No matter. Like today, we will cut their numbers the best we can.”
“Someone’s a bit ambitious today,” Rowe grumbled. “How long do you think we’ll be out here? You know Cammie is going to give birth in three months.”
Liam met Rowe’s blue eyes and forced a smile. “I’ll try to get you home in time to meet your new son.”
Rowe returned the grin. “We can only hope it’s a boy, but I’ll be okay with a girl just as well.”
“Maybe you’ll have twins,” Liam suggested and Rowe gave Liam’s shoulder a shake as he chuckled.
It was odd, hearing laughter when they were surrounded by dead bodies. He almost felt guilty for thinking of joyful moments right after a bloody massacre; as if he hadn’t just revealed that, soon, they’d be fighting in a war that could go on for centuries.
Rowe’s laughter died down and there was a tense silence. Liam knew that distant look in Rowe’s eyes. Neither of them wanted to say the obvious: Rowe might never return home to see his wife or unborn child.
Liam watched the fairies congregate toward the trees. He could see that they were saddened.
They had let three men die. A healer’s job was never easy. They had to be entirely focused and ready, watching every man to make sure he didn’t suffer from a blow that could prove fatal. Liam knew what pressure was put upon them. He shared that burden with them. They would beat themselves up over it for days.
Liam looked down at the grass. The battlefield was no longer green. The grass was brown now. Its life and energy had been sucked
up and used by the fairies to heal the wounded soldiers.
Liam clicked his tongue and Midnight trotted closer. He smoothed the horse’s flanks and laid his face close to his. “Good riding today, boy.”
Midnight neighed in reply, stomping his hind legs.
Liam smiled. Midnight was a stallion, both quick and aggressive. In battle, Midnight was agile, aiding Liam in his quick attacks as they weaved in and out of the masses. He was the most loyal and intelligent horse Liam had ever encountered and he had trained him from a foal. Their bond was strong and pure.
Liam pulled a flask of water from Midnight’s saddlebag. He drank the warm water deeply and handed it to Rowe. Rowe took a swig and sealed the top.
“We stick to the plan. It’s off to Raeden we go.”
Rowe nodded. “I still can’t believe the elves are actually here.”
Liam shrugged. “You’ll see much more than just that if you stick with me.”
“That better be a promise.” Rowe clamped a hand on Liam’s shoulder. “I’ll get the men to hurry with the funeral pyres and the burning of the elves.”
Liam gave a nod of approval. He wanted to tell Rowe what he knew, but he was too afraid of his own knowledge to put that burden on his friend. The world was about to change and he was partly responsible for making sure it didn’t plunge into total darkness.
He had immense power, but he sometimes wondered if it was enough. Despite his doubts, Liam refused to let his people down. He was driven by duty. It was his destiny and he was a slave to it.
“Why the long face, pretty boy,” Nani teased as she hovered before him. Her glittering fairy wings caught the sun’s rays so that he had to shield his eyes as he looked directly at her.
She smiled and landed onto the soft ground. He knew she was faking the smile. She was as heartbroken by the loss of the three soldiers as her team of healers.
Nani was a prodigy. No fairy village had known a healer as powerful as her, and she chose to follow Liam. She believed in him even if none of the other kingdoms and villages did.
Nani batted her eyelashes at Liam, bright green eyes full of affection for him. “You did well today. You showed the enemy a taste of what they’re up against. A little flashy, but you know how I like theatrics, my dear prince.”
Barely taller than four feet, Nani walked over to him, her deep purple pigtails bouncing with each step she took in the supple thigh high brown leather boots she wore. Nani ignored the stares of some of the men as she walked by. Her eyes were set on Liam.
Liam chose not to mention the dead soldiers. “Are you sure you’re up for staying with this army? Things are only going to get worse. We are heading deeper and deeper into the wild lands to eliminate these Shadow Elves. It’s going to be dangerous for you girls.”
Nani scoffed. “I have the most powerful man in the world on my side. I think we’ll be all right.” She winked at him.
Liam grinned. “Not the most powerful,” he corrected. “There are the ‘others.’”
Nani turned up her nose. “I won’t believe it until I see it.”
“Talking about the Chosen class again?” Rowe stood with his legs spread apart. He folded his arms across his large muscle-bound chest. “I don’t know why the Ancients won’t just come down here themselves and set things straight. Save us all a load of trouble.”
“There’s a lot that you don’t know, Rowe.” Nani smirked. “Why don’t you stick to your brutish ways and let Prince Liam do all of the thinking.”
Rowe shrugged. “Works for me.”
Nani laughed. “That’s why I like you, Rowe. I think the safest place to be right now is by your and Liam’s side.”
What were the other Chosen ones were up to? Together they were supposed to unite the entire world and end all evil.
Maybe they could unite the races, but there would always be a new evil to conquer.
Sona stepped through the crowd. “Heal me,” she demanded.
Nani flew toward Sona with a grin. “Say please.” She flew away before Sona could push her. Nani laughed softly, nearly a child in comparison to the Tryan woman before her.
Nani flew closer and brought her face close to Sona's. This time, she mocked a serious expression.
“Getting a little sloppy.” A twinkle filled Nani’s green eyes. “I am not impressed.”
Here we go, Liam thought.
“Just fix it you little twit!”
Nani raised an eyebrow and spoke to Liam. “Whoa, lady!” She mocked a gasp of shock. “The manners on this one! Where’d you find her anyway, a slum?”
Sona ignored her. She looked over at Liam as Nani's healing hands mended her swollen jaw. A yellow glow covered Sona's face, sealing the wound and decreasing the swelling.
“Done.” Nani stepped onto the ground and curtsied. “My lady.”
“Thank you,” Sona said, though she sneered and turned on her heels to walk away. She wrapped her arms around Liam’s neck.
Liam tensed, seeing the others eying them. “Not now, Sona,” he said quietly into her ear.
She kissed his cheek and nodded. “Of course, darling.” She glanced back at Nani. “Wouldn’t want the fairy to get jealous.”
Nani tossed her head back and laughed. She looked back at Sona. “Jealous? Of what? You can’t even fly!”
Sona gave Liam another kiss, on his lips. “Good job today. You handled the battle well.”
Liam watched Sona as she headed toward the other soldiers. She only let her hardened persona relax around him.
Liam sauntered toward the Silver River. It was the only body of water that stretched from Kyril to Alfheim, where the Silver Elves lived.
He listened to The Winds. They were unusually quiet lately. He missed their voices.
It was nice to know when danger was around, before it reached him. There was rarely anything exciting in the palace; however, when he was finally sent away for his soldier’s training, The Winds had revealed themselves with vigor each time he was in a battle.
Liam ran a hand through his hair and knelt down to the riverbank. He absently picked up a few pebbles and tossed them into the water as he listened. It was as if the air grew dense and every other noise was muted.
He looked back into the direction of the camp. He wondered how many more he would lose before he was able to return home. What his mother had led the people of Oren to believe was a simple mission to rid the lands of a few rogue elves was something much more serious.
Liam felt something dark and evil approaching. The Ancients are warring, what does that mean to their creations? He shuddered. What would they do if their creators abandoned them? What would be the point of fighting if that happened?
Stop it Liam, he sighed. You really do worry too much.
He turned to head back toward Midnight when he heard yells from the forest.
“Wait! Prince Liam!” Jonev, one of the sentries, shouted.
Liam felt his skin crawl with dread when the ground began to shake as something ran toward them. Liam’s jaw tensed. Something was approaching. Something…big.
Jonev ran behind Liam, his eyes wide as he pointed toward the forest. “The elves, they set them loose!”
Liam swallowed. He had already used too much energy with his lightning skills. He took a long deep breath and rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. They were all watching him. The Order depended on him to lead. Liam refused to let those men and women down. They were his only friends.
Liam glanced over at Nani whose smile completely faded. Her olive skin paled as she stared past him with wide eyes.
“Nani,” he called. He drew his sword. “Get ready to work.”
Chapter 7
Out of the trees emerged a pack of wild wolves.
No, Liam realized with horror. These aren’t wolves. They were nearly twice the size and had matted ash black fur that was stuck to them like tar. These were creatures born of evil. They were actually people whom the Shadow Elves had transformed into horrible beasts specif
ically to hunt down other men. Riestlings.
Liam swallowed the hard knot in his throat. The wars before The Barriers had produced countless monstrosities, and it seemed as though no one was safe from those that they thought they’d never see again.
The Tryan army drew their swords and slowly backed away. They had seen many horrors in the Order, but many of them had never seen a Shadow Elf, let alone their minions.
There were nearly thirty riestlings trampling through the forest like horses. It was obvious to Liam that the Shadow Elves were quick in their revenge. They weren’t going to be as easy to crush as he hoped.
Behind the riestlings, however, was the reason the ground shook as though an earthquake ripped through the land. Liam sucked in a breath as a massive Nostfar giant came running through the woods.
Like pounding on a drum, his footsteps could be heard for miles all around.
His head was covered in a metal helmet so that only his eyes were visible. They were large and completely black. The giant’s large chest was exposed. He had spiked, metal shackles on his wrists and feet and ran full speed toward the Tryans who looked like children in comparison.
Nani waited above them. Liam watched as she cracked her knuckles and readied herself.
The other fairies were positioned above the Tryan army.
“Holy Elahe. You better do something, Liam,” Rowe warned as he looked up at the giant.
Liam rarely ever saw Rowe looking afraid. However, he could see the shock line his face at seeing something he’d only heard tales about while growing up.
“You never said there’d be blasted giants.”
“What can I say, Rowe? I promised you a battle that you’d never forget.” Liam worked quickly. Once he enchanted his sword until it glowed. Red beams pumped from the steel, and the spark of power brought all eyes to him. Even though he began to sweat with exertion, he held it ready and unwavering. The power crackled and warmed the air around him.
The riestlings’ eyes went from Liam to the others as though choosing whom to attack first.