The Sweet Series Box Set: Books 1-4

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The Sweet Series Box Set: Books 1-4 Page 89

by Bailey Ardisone


  “Oh. Do you already know what tree you want to use it on, Mycah?” We continued walking on foot into the golden forest. Where we’d be going, cars couldn’t travel. Lómë morphed from a cute little kitty into her stunning tiger-self.

  Mycah answered, “I do not. After we fetch the Sindora, we’ll need to find the appropriate weeping willow together.”

  “Really? A weeping willow? Does it have to be that type of tree?”

  He nodded. “The long branches protect the trunk, keeping it out of sight similar to a veil. Trees contain a hint of magic, even in the Earthly realm, unique from one species to another. The weeping willow and giant sequoia are the most powerful, but it’s the willow that provides what we need.”

  “Interesting,” I mused quietly. Out of all the crazy thrown into my lap since this all started, that was the easiest for me to believe. I’d always loved trees and their majestic beauty. They really did seem magical.

  Mycah led us tirelessly up the hills and through the forests in pursuit of the hidden Sindora. Not much was said between the five of us, but I could feel the anxiety about returning to the land where we were being hunted as if it were palpable.

  Many, many hours passed, until we eventually reached the Sindora. Mycah had to protect us using his anti-water ability as we ran under a small waterfall he had it hidden behind. He waved his hand to reveal a removable rock from the wall, and after pulling it out, there sat the Sindora deep within.

  It was beautiful—Completely different than I had imagined it. A white, shiny metal twisted and curled into a stunning pointed shape, braiding in intricate detail. It would have fit into my palm. Mycah slid the separate piece he had hidden in London inside its contorted frame. This other item was a stunning gem of some sort, opulent and almost translucent, yet a bit opaque. It was hard to see, but inside a shimmering, green powder swirled about when Mycah moved it.

  “You made this?” my voice was barely audible—I was in awe.

  “It wasn’t easy, but yes.” Mycah held up the Sindora. “I had to inject the moonstar gem with essence from the Aselaira Ëlemmiire, which is the lifeblood of our realm.”

  “I see.” I didn’t even try to understand. It was too crazy sounding.

  “Damn,” Rydan breathed, obviously agreeing with me. Naminé, too, watched in astonishment.

  “It truly is magnificent, Remycah.” Ender caressed it sweetly, as if it were precious to him.

  After acquiring the Sindora, the hard part was finding which tree to use it on. There weren’t many weeping willows around, but after much searching, there was finally one that the three of us decided would be perfect.

  A dense circle of flower-bearing trees concealed it, and similar to my Willow that had been in Kennebunkport, it hung extravagantly over a crystal clear pond. You could see the fish swimming all the way to the bottom between green plants. It was perfect.

  The wispy, whimsical branches blew in the wind and swept over us as we crossed through. Mycah hesitated at the trunk for a moment.

  “I had no way to test this out. It’s all in theory, really. It could very well not work at all.” He held the Sindora, doubting himself.

  I placed my hand over his. “It’ll work.”

  This time I wouldn’t doubt Mycah. Rydan, too, laid his hand over ours. Ender and Naminé joined us. We brought the Sindora upward alongside the rough tree trunk. In one swift motion, Mycah guided our hands on what to do as he chanted softly something in Elvish, and together we spiked the Sindora into the tree. An invisible shockwave pulsed from the force of it ripping a hole between realms, and a white shimmer spread from the very top down into the roots. My connection to Luïnil burst into life, igniting within my blood a fueled vigor.

  The once ordinary tree from only a moment ago now seemed to stand taller, brighter, and more brilliant in color. As the vibrant green leaves danced serenely in the wind, the enticement to walk through emanated so strong, I could hardly stand not to.

  “Let’s give it a go then,” Mycah breathed. He sailed his outstretched hand into the bark, and magically, just like before, it disappeared straight on through followed by the rest of his body. Lómë pounced through in a jiffy, eager to go home, followed by Ender, Naminé, and Calen.

  Rydan went next, and if he hadn’t been holding tight onto my hand, I probably would’ve had a tiny panic attack from being left behind. But he pulled me onward, never letting go as I, too, made it into Luïnil.

  I squinted from the sun shining more intensely; the atmosphere was calm and warm, instantly heating my cold body. The breath of clean air I inhaled sent my toes and fingers tingling. The instant my foot stepped onto the land, my soul swayed with excitement, reveling in the fully restored connection to it. I felt exhilarated, but in control of myself. Slowly, the exhaustion and pain I had throbbing in my bones began to lessen as the connection to Lissë was rekindled. We felt each other instantly. She was far, far away from where I stood.

  Rydan spun slowly in a circle, absorbing the scenery. Snowcapped mountains stood in front of us, reaching toward the setting sun for warmth. Green trees sprinkled the land, but it was otherwise bare. Mycah uncovered our weapons we had been concealing from human eyes and handed them out to us.

  “Where are we?” Rydan asked, still gazing about. He absentmindedly took a sword and two short swords from Mycah after already placing his bow and quiver on his back.

  “West. Below the Nura’ringul Mountains. We have to get away from here quickly. Come on.” Mycah tossed the cloth aside and adjusted his sword around his hip, then slid two short swords behind his bow and quiver strapped to his back and a dagger in his belt, before taking my hand and dragging me at a fast pace. We all started running.

  “Why? What’s wrong?” Alarm spread in my veins like fire. I held onto my own sword, making it easier to run, and I had a small dagger in my belt. I reached behind and grabbed onto Rydan, not wanting to lose him in our haste.

  “Dae’Sûl. He claims these mountains. It isn’t safe.” Mycah ran into a cluster of trees.

  “What should we do? Where should we go?” I started panting, even though Mycah and everyone else seemed perfectly capable of running without letup. “What if we’re going the wrong way?”

  “We need to get out of sight. Somewhere Dae’Sûl cannot detect me.” Mycah’s eyes darted in different places, searching for anything suspicious.

  “This path, Remycah.” Ender showed us the way.

  “Why is he after you, bro?” Rydan increased his pace to jog alongside Mycah, letting go of my hand.

  “Revenge against our father. A son for a son. It’s a bit of a long story.” Mycah ducked under a low branch and held it up for me to pass under.

  “For christsakes, you’ve got some serious baggage,” Rydan said, snickering.

  “Please, like you’re one to talk, Ry,” I teased.

  “Coming from the queen of baggage. You need a dump truck to carry all you’ve got.” He threw a smirk over his shoulder.

  “Hey! Not true.” I laughed. “Okay, maybe it’s sorta true. But I wasn’t the one acting like I didn’t have any at all, so there.” I stuck my tongue out at his back.

  “Whatever.” He shook his head.

  As we ventured through trees, there was darkness here that I hadn’t felt anywhere else. It was sickly, bleak, and poisoned the air, making it hard to breathe.

  “What’s going on?” I rubbed my fingers over a leaf and it disintegrated into black sticky goo.

  “The kingdom is sick. The land is suffering. The longer Ohtar sits on my throne under a false reign, poisoning the minds of my people, the more my kingdom grows dim.” Mycah waved his hand over my dirtied fingers, erasing the grime. “Do not touch anything.”

  My heart completely sank with grief. I truly ached for these poor people that needed help. That needed Mycah as their true king.

  We ran for a while before Mycah and Ender eventually slowed down, marking things on a map. “Alright, this should be far enough.”

&nbs
p; “What now?” I asked. Bent over my knees, I drew in ragged gasps of breath. I wasn’t fully recovered yet, and this strenuous running drained me down.

  Suddenly, Mycah stopped short, the blood looking to have drained from his face.

  “What’s wrong?” Rydan asked, brushing past Mycah who stayed frozen in one spot.

  “This meadow used to be filled with flowers of every color you could imagine.” He resumed walking again. “Never had a petal wilted or a frost come upon the glen.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked, striding up to be next to him.

  Naminé dropped to her knees as Ender answered my question, “It is only further evidence that the land of the Kingdom of Aselaira is dying.”

  Mycah lowered himself to the ground, then moved his hand over a wide space. The flowers came to life, their color spreading up from their stems to the tips of their petals. “I cannot wait any longer. Ohtar must be defeated before there is nothing left to save. Training with our restored connection is our next order of business. And then, we sneak into the castle and take back what is rightly ours.”

  We continued making our way toward the castle. Lissë did her best to get to me. I could feel her speed, but it’d be a while before she reached us.

  “Will time speed us by while we’re here? When we go back to the Earthly realm, will years have passed?” It really bothered me that time did that. I didn’t like it.

  “That won’t be the case with this portal. I was able to restore the rip between realms, but I do not have the skill to create another Ëlemmiire,” Mycah explained as we walked, but his eyes never stopped roving the area, always on guard for danger. “It has none of the same magic or seal on it as what you’re used to. It is just simply that—a gateway between realms and nothing more.”

  “So, when we walk through this new portal back to England, our ears won’t be enchanted to look human the way the other Weeping Willow had done in Kennebunkport?” I asked. This was some crazy stuff I was learning, but it was interesting.

  “No, they won’t.”

  “And we’ll have access to all our gifts and abilities still?” It seemed too good to be true. We entered a dense forest for cover, and I had to step over a large snail that slinked on the ground.

  “That’s right. And the portal isn’t protected from others using it, whereas, our sacred Ëlemmiire were locked from common use. Only royalty or those ordained by royalty could pass through,” he explained, brushing branches out of the way. “The new portal I’ve created is extremely dangerous and risky. No one must know of its existence in either realm. It could be a catastrophe if creatures from Luïnil began entering the Earthly realm, and in turn, humans took over our precious land. I’ve committed a crime by crafting the Sindora and another by using it.”

  I sighed heavily. “Why am I not surprised? Let me guess. Just walking from the portal as we speak is a crime. Oh no! Am I committing a crime right now by walking on the wrong side of this tree?” I pointed over-dramatically to one I passed. Sarcasm was becoming unavoidable. I was so over all these laws and crimes and executions for treason. I mean, really? How were any elves still alive or not locked away in dungeons?

  “Technically, yes, it is a crime using the portal. It was a crime using the Ëlemmiire as well. These laws are put in place for a reason. They not only protect our people, our traditions, and our way of life, but they can even protect the human species.” Mycah paused to look me in the eyes. “Listen, darling. I’m aware it’s all new to you, but in time you’ll come to understand.”

  “Yeah, sure. I hope so.” I wasn’t actually too sure about it, but I didn’t need him to know that.

  “Rydan, from this day onward until we reach the castle, we train harder than we ever have before.” Mycah turned to his younger brother, his expression gravely serious. “Your skill lies with the bow, and you do quite well on instinct as it is, but it is more than that. We must exercise our minds and develop your skill in the art of command. I’m certain you have gifts that have not yet come to surface, and our goal is to uncover what they are.”

  “Does Ohtar have a weakness?” Rydan asked gruffly, running a hand through his messy hair.

  “There is not a soul that doesn’t, but I have yet to discover Ohtar’s. I have not been around him enough to learn of it.” Mycah moved a vine out of his path. I just listened as they conversed, soaking it all in.

  Ender chimed in, “I have not fought Ohtar in battle. Neither have I discovered his weakness, but we shall soon.”

  “What is our plan to defeat him?” Naminé asked.

  “We infiltrate the castle in secret, then make known to the kingdom Ohtar’s treachery. We announce how he killed my father the king and that I have come to take the stolen throne as its rightful heir. The people must give up their allegiance to Ohtar, and he will most certainly not allow them to without a fight.” Mycah ducked under another vine.

  “When do we start training?” Rydan ducked under that same one. It was tall enough, or I was short enough, to be able to walk right under it.

  “Tonight. We must do what we can to become more powerful than Ohtar and as quickly as possible. We’ll look for a secluded place and hope we’re not discovered,” Mycah whispered, explaining our next move.

  “How are you ever going to train and not be heard by hunters?” I was frightened, yes, but more than that, I worried there was no time for them to accomplish the level of strength needed while in this dire situation.

  “There’s no telling,” Mycah started to answer. “But we have no time to lose, and our training cannot be put off any longer. Just look at the state of this forest. It’s a blatant reminder that I’ve unquestionably taken too long. I do not want to see my people suffering any more than they’ve already had to.”

  I felt more guilty than I ever did before. The blame was on me this time. Mycah tried so hard to get back to Luïnil, and then once he finally had, I had stormed in and ruined everything. First by getting captured by Ohtar, and then after barely escaping, Mycah had had to come to my rescue yet again from the Wood Elves, cutting off his only opportunity to train with his Fëa.

  “Darling, you are fretting over nothing.” Mycah slowed his pace and intertwined our fingers together.

  “You don’t blame me for your people having to suffer longer?” I bit my lip and averted my eyes, not wanting to see his face just yet. I was ashamed of my stupidity.

  “No, I do not blame you.” He lifted my chin, forcing me to look at him anyway. “I’m quite grateful for how it has turned out. Regardless, I would not be ready to face Ohtar, and at least now I have Rydan and Ender to train with. There is no point dwelling on the past, love. Be thankful for what we have and always look to the future.”

  I thought about what he said and couldn’t argue. I’d work on being more positive. It was hard when you always had death banging on the door and there was a nasty killer hunting you down one way or another. Those things tended to suck all the brightness out of the room. But it was up to me, and only me, to not let it strangle my attitude.

  “What about finding that Healer for Nari? When are we gonna do that?” Rydan asked suddenly. I wished I was back to normal before going up against Ohtar, but frankly, I didn’t want to be going on some crazy-long journey looking for a rare Healer, either.

  “That will have to wait. Healers are extremely rare. I haven’t the slightest idea where to find one. We’ll need to send out an inquiry; perhaps someone in Aselaira can tell us where he or she can be found,” Ender explained. Oh, great. So I’d be forced to battle in this condition, just as I had feared.

  A bit later, Ender and Mycah found us a private area that they felt would be safe. Ender tried to put up a protection charm, but it could prove ineffective with those of his own kin. And of course, his kin just happened to be the ones we needed protection from. Go figure.

  “Alright, Rydan.” Mycah stood before his brother in a cluster of trees. I sat on a stump, watching and listening. Naminé and Ender joined
me. “The key to commanding molecules and matter around you is sheer will power. If you can train your brain to connect with the land, that is where it starts. Eventually, it’ll become second nature to you and you’d no longer need the elements. Just your will alone shall have atoms bending to your every whim. You are Rydan Cael Zafriel, an heir to the throne of Aselaira and royal by blood right.”

  Rydan nodded, but I had a hard time believing that bit of information wasn’t still difficult for him to accept. Rydan had never been one to be all about power and importance. He didn’t care about any of that stuff. At least, not before. After having learned of his heritage and responsibility, it made it a brand new situation that he’d have to get accustomed to.

  Mycah continued, opening his palms to the ground. “Feel the energy that pumps in every living thing around you. Draw it in like water from a well. It is yours for the taking. Focus your desire to use its aid and obey your command.”

  The little grass that sprinkled the dirt grew by leaps and bounds. Thick turf sprang up, coating the ground in a layer of grass and spiraling up toward Mycah’s hands. Vines wrapped around his forearms and slithered up over his shoulders.

  He lowered his hands to his sides, and immediately the greenery fell from his skin, returning to the land. “You try.”

  “I can’t do that.” Rydan shook his head. “I’m not like you and Nari.”

  “Like hell you’re not,” Mycah scoffed. “What did I just say? You are a prince of this land. You are a full-blooded elda; the same as me. The same as Nariella. Don’t be ridiculous, Rydan.”

  “Ry, you can do it!” I cheered in support, smiling. “I know you can. Just have faith in yourself.”

  Lómë paced around his legs, chuffing, and Rydan closed his eyes, sighing. “Fine.”

  He seemed to be concentrating pretty hard before any slight movement was made in the grass. I held back a squeal. He was doing it. I knew he could. The blades of grass quivered beneath his palms. After a while, he got them to sway a bit, but then he was ready to move on. Too much time was being spent on one thing.

 

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