The Sweet Series Box Set: Books 1-4

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The Sweet Series Box Set: Books 1-4 Page 100

by Bailey Ardisone


  “It has been three days, my child,” she responded. My gut wrenched. Oh, crap. Three days? I was supposed to catch up with Ender already. Oh, Mycah…please be okay. “Where are you to go? What are you to do?”

  “I meant what I said in your house. My father and I are assembling an army. A massive one. We’re going to take down Ohtar and his filthy kingdom.” I smoothed my hair back from my face and looked for a way to re-tie it into a ponytail, but came up short. It’d just have to stay down and in my way. “There’s a spot I was supposed to meet him in once I got the army of Lassaira to join us.”

  I eyed them carefully, waiting for some sort of reaction to my statement—a hint of how they felt about that notion. But the entire group of armed elves that stood around the area stayed in perfect, silent position, as if waiting for orders. I assumed it'd be Döron’s orders, though I found it strange they were out here to begin with. Was I under arrest, after all? No, I couldn’t be. You don’t let prisoners sleep on a fancy bed. And since I revived Döron, he should be king and I should be free. All I needed now was to convince him to join my father and me on our rescue mission.

  I cringed. A strange wave of hatred toward the Tavas elves in front of me slid through my veins, something I had never once felt before until now. Alarmingly, they still no longer felt like my kin, but with almost certainty—like my enemies. I tried to push it down and forget about it.

  But there was no ignoring that which refused to be ignored. Without being able to help it, the question slipped out between my lips automatically, “Do I feel…different…to you?”

  My grandmother answered in pain, “Yes. You are a night elf, Nariella. You are exuding Isil magic.”

  So it was true. As I expected, the Tavas blood was gone. The fact that it wasn’t only that I felt different inside, but those around me felt it also reaffirmed my suspicion. But it didn’t make sense. How could I have always felt more Tavas than Isil, then suddenly be opposite? Could that seriously happen? “How?”

  “We know not the cause or reason. Perhaps it is only temporary,” Döron responded.

  “Yeah.” I shook my head, not able to dwell on it regardless. I had other things to worry about. My ears buzzed with nervous energy. The already heavy weight of raising a war against Ohtar became infinitely heavier on my chest and mind. I was extremely tempted to drop down onto my knees and literally beg with all I had in me for the soldiers to ignore the fact that I now felt like their enemy and to take a stand for justice. But I needed to be more mature than that. I needed to remain calm.

  “Nariella, there is an important matter we must discuss with you,” he said.

  “And there’s one I have to talk to you about, too. What I started in your house—I need to finish it. I need your help, Döron. Please. With you returned as king, I need your army. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t extremely important.”

  My scalp prickled to attention at the same time the guards standing around all jumped to battle formations. Someone was coming, and it wasn’t just me who could feel it. I lifted my head in the direction of the source, but I wasn’t afraid. The only thing I feared now was not getting to Mycah and Rydan in time.

  The guards surrounded us in a flash, ready to take on the intruder that slowly approached. Once he came into view, I pushed past the Tavas warriors and bounded up to him, throwing my arms around his neck.

  “An Isil dog,” spat one of the wood elves harshly, realizing immediately it was an enemy. But it was only one enemy and not a threat to the handful of soldiers standing by.

  I ignored the insult and negative tone, because I had never been happier to see my father than I was in this moment. No one else in this group circling me understood just how bad things were or how urgently we needed to defeat Ohtar, and I didn’t realize how comforting it was to have Ender with me on this mission until now. If I had been completely alone…I couldn’t even imagine it. But he wanted to save his Óre’Dae Mycah just as much as I wanted to save him, and so that mutual understanding and determination forged a stronger bond between us almost instantly.

  I suddenly noticed he was not alone. A male elf with chest-length black hair and strong features stood several feet behind Ender. A white owl, bearing grey spots and eyes as yellow as the sun, claimed a place on the tall elf’s shoulder. As I withdrew from our embrace, I quickly said to him, “Oh, hello.”

  He didn’t respond, just tipped his head down with a forced smile, looking terribly awkward and uncomfortable. He, of course, still carried himself with tall, regal elegance, but it was clear he was a night elf and hated being in the wood elves’ territory. For some reason, I suddenly understood exactly how that felt. Like I, too, wished I were in Aselaira instead of Lassaira. My heart pounded in my chest at the very thought.

  Ender said, “Nariella, this is Námoman.” He then turned to the guy, “I present to you my daughter Nariella.”

  Námoman bowed at the same time Ender passed me. Though I was confused, I made myself say, “Nice to meet you,” before quickly following Ender close on his heels. I whispered into his back, “What is he doing here? Who is he?”

  He ignored me, of course, and went straight to my grandparents in polite greeting. The soldiers cut him off. “What business brings you here?” Cílon demanded, holding up his sword. “You are not welcome on these lands, vagabond filth.”

  “Do not be hasty, Cílon,” Döron countered, placing a hand on the guard’s shoulder. “He is an acquaintance of ours.”

  The temperamental elf was hesitant to obey, but he did, nonetheless. My grandparents and father said their long-time-no-sees and other pleasantries, but my mind refused to leave the guy standing in the same spot Ender had left him in, his eyes looking every which way but at us in the group.

  After a few minutes of Ender and my grandparents catching up, I finally tugged on Ender’s arm, anxious to get back to the important things…like saving Mycah and Rydan’s lives. “Ender! We don’t have time for this.”

  “Indeed, we do not. Námoman brings troubling news from within the walls of Aselaira.” He gestured to the intimidating elda, and I held my breath in anticipation.

  His voice was deep and solemn. “The false king has grown mad, yet he only displays his derailing anxiety to the ever-increasing number of Maite’Ona slaves he has imprisoned. I have seen it for myself, for I was one of them. He is quite determined to use every last Maite’Ona and their Fëa in an effort to locate the mighty Guardian Ender, with the promise of torture if they resist. For Ohtar knows it is only a matter of time before Ender rains down fire to save his Óre’Dae. And Ohtar cannot have that. Those who fail to find Ender are sentenced to death along with King Remycah and Prince Rydan on the night of the Hunter’s Moon. And none have succeeded. What is most disturbing is that all other Maite’Ona in Aselaira who do not have the ability to assist in his search have also been sentenced for execution. He has become intoxicated by the idea of power and what the Hunter’s Moon can offer him. And I believe his envy has grown too much for him to contain, reaching his breaking point, perhaps anticipating the Maite’Ona will form a rebellion against him. Though none can now say what reasons Ohtar has for any of his actions.”

  “Wait, are you saying every single Maite’Ona and their Fëa in Aselaira are going to die if we don’t get there in time?” I braced my weight with a tree, needing to hold onto something.

  “That is precisely what I am saying,” he answered. My grandparents and the soldiers listening around us gasped and murmured things in Elvish with frightened tones. It seemed Döron tried to calm everyone down.

  I swallowed and tried to keep my cool, but the weight of saving a few lives just got heavier now that I was tasked with who knows how many more. “Why would anyone help him if he’s just going to kill them anyway?”

  “Ohtar is most skilled with his power of persuasion. None can refuse him.”

  Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. “How did you manage to say no?”

  “I see truth, therefore, I seem to be imm
une to his false compulsions.”

  Ender stepped up. “This war has become greater than the rescue of King Remycah and Prince Rydan. Námoman has managed to escape in order to give aid where he can,” he said to me.

  Cílon spoke up proudly with venom tainting his tone, “And why should we care what your sick king does with his equally vile people? Isil monsters have been encroaching upon our lands for centuries—murdering and ravaging wherever they touch. Why must we sacrifice our lives for your undeserving kingdom?”

  Ender then turned to my grandparents and the anxious soldiers, “It would be folly to believe that once he wipes out those in Aselaira he won’t be looking for more in other lands, such as yours of Lassaira and those closest to Aselaira. If you do not know the legend already, then I will inform you now. If we allow Ohtar to claim the life of every Maite’Ona he has promised to the Hunter’s Moon, he will inherit their powers and gifts. He will be unstoppable. We must put an end to Ohtar’s tyranny before he reaches any more Maite’Ona in other lands, or worse, with his newly gained strength, comes after your kingdom. I understand from where your hatred stems, but know this: If you assist us in eliminating Ohtar, the true king—a better king—will redeem his throne and bring peace between our people.”

  “Our kingdom has sat idle whilst Ohtar does as he pleases for far too long,” Döron agreed, then turned to the soldiers, “We cannot allow evil to reign in our kingdom the way our former king Aglar tolerated. I believe it is as Ender says. Ohtar will all too soon be at our door demanding our own Maite’Ona to fuel his murderous revenge.”

  A suffocating heaviness descended upon everyone once reality set in. I could visibly see the understanding of how heavy the situation was register in each soldier’s face. Ohtar’s evilness was going to spread unless someone stopped him. And it needed to be us.

  “What do we do now?” I asked Ender without really thinking about it. I was too dumbfounded.

  “The same as before. We keep to our plan. Only we now have a desperate cause to back our plea. We can no longer beg neighboring kingdoms to fight for only our lost king, but for all of Luïnil. Maite’Ona were once precious to all inhabitants and highly regarded. Ohtar treats them nothing more than unwanted dogs. This ends with us—With all those who will stand with us. Is the rest of your army ready?”

  “Well, about that…we still have yet to discuss the whole reason I came here in the first place, so no,” I admitted, looking to the few soldiers that were here in the forest. The rest of the army was back at the castle and oblivious to all of this. I held up my hands once I saw he was going to lecture me. “But Döron is back to being king, and he seems eager to join our cause, so it shouldn’t take long to gather everyone else. Right?” I saw my grandfather and father exchange a nervous look between them. It puzzled me.

  “Lord Döron is king, you say?” Ender brushed a few wispy hairs behind my ear before dropping his eyes to my neck. “Are you certain of this, Nariella?”

  “Yes!” But then I thought about it. “Well, I mean, yeah. I think so. Aren’t you?” I had turned to my grandfather again, only to see him shake his head no.

  “Ender, what happened? What does this mean? Did I fail?” Panic sunk its familiar claws in my heart. Panic and bitter failure. A million questions flew into my mind at once—Why wasn’t Döron king? What were we going to do now? How were we going to save Mycah and Rydan…my chest caved in and I struggled to breathe.

  “No, no, my dear. You have done well. Very well, in fact. I am quite proud of you. Everything is as it should be,” he clarified firmly, placing a comforting hand on my cheek. But that didn’t make sense. That wasn’t the plan.

  “It is? How? If he isn’t king, then how?” I thought my skull would crack from all the roller-coaster emotions my nerves were being subjected to. I was so confused and helpless—I absolutely hated it. “Will you please explain what is going on?”

  My grandmother interrupted, “Nariella, as your grandfather mentioned, there is a matter of utmost importance that can no longer wait to be discussed.”

  That had me reeling. What on earth could she be talking about? Horrible things entered my mind. They were keeping something from me. I could feel it. My eyes flipped between the three pairs set firmly on my face as if waiting for me to break—To come undone and completely fall apart. I bit my lip and thumbnail at the same time with the worst kind of nervous energy I had felt yet. “What is it? Just tell me.”

  More murmurings in Elvish commenced among the guards as my grandmother walked up to Ender, and they, too, spoke in Elvish together before she finally said, “Yes, it is time she understood. Lle desiel?”

  “Umm, hello? Person who doesn’t speak Elvish here.” I held my arm up into the air, pointing at my head. “Can someone please just spill the beans? I’m dying over here.”

  My grandfather took long strides to stand before me, and with a worried but loving smile, slid my long, fallen hair back behind my shoulder. Instantly, I was taken aback by every soul present bowing to the ground in one graceful act. My mouth dropped open, but only out of complete and utter confusion. What the heck was that for?

  My father chuckled at the ground, and for an instant I was reminded of Mycah. Though they weren’t related in any way, the gesture was similar, and my soul ached to be reunited with his in a silent but anguished plea.

  “What’s so funny?” I crossed my arms, pushing my yearning for Mycah aside for another time. “And, and, what the hell are they doing?”

  “My child, you have no imagination. You truly were raised amongst the humans. Have you no faith in your father?” Ender mimicked my stance, crossing his own arms.

  I smacked my forehead out of frustration. “We don’t have time for all these riddles and vague misconceptions. Just tell me what’s going on before I literally lose my mind!”

  “All hail Her Majesty, Nariella, Queen of Lassaira,” Döron announced triumphantly. I resisted the urge to double over like I had been punched in the stomach.

  I gripped onto Ender for support, deeper confusion taking over my mind completely. I yanked him away from the crowd, my heart hammering in my chest. My mouth opened and closed several times as I worked through my flabbergasted brain-freeze, and he waited patiently for me to get a handle on myself. “Queen? Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

  “I feared you would refuse.”

  “Damn right I would refuse! I don’t want to be a queen. I don’t want to be their anything!” I threw my arms up into the air. “You had no right to let this happen without giving me the full details. I can’t believe you knew killing Aglar would make me queen and didn’t even bother telling me! The plan was that Döron would command the army, not me.”

  “Nariella, there was no time for arguing. My Óre’Dae is in the hands of our enemy and suffering. I will do what I must to redeem him from my recklessness. Forgive me for not divulging the entirety of facts to you, but there was no time for your uncertainty or cowardice.” He placed his strong hands on my shoulders and forced me to look into his eyes. “Now, give heed, my daughter. What are you to do with the power that has been given to you? Are you to run away frightened, or are you to use it to your advantage? Are you to carry out our intention and command the army of Lassaira to save Remycah and Rydan? And now countless of your kin? What say you?”

  “Oh, my god, fine!” I kicked my boot into the trunk of a nearby tree. “I’ll do it! Alright? You’ve guilt-tripped me enough. I’ll be their stupid queen.”

  My head dropped into my hands. What was I getting myself into? A queen? I could barely take care of myself, let alone an entire kingdom. Just thinking about it gave me heart palpitations.

  But…there was also a small part of me that liked the idea. I didn’t have to think so far ahead about taking care of the kingdom yet. For now all I needed to focus on was rescuing Mycah and Rydan, and Ender was right. I finally had the means necessary to do it.

  The only problem left was being the person required to command an entire
army, plus others, into a giant war against Ohtar. I patted myself on the back…Good luck with that, Nari.

  My grandmother walked up to me and took my hands. “We know undoubtedly this has come as a shock to you, sweet Nariella. But do not be frightened. Your grandfather and I will be at your side always.”

  “How could this even happen? You said yourself I’m Isil now. How can I rule over a Tavas kingdom like this? Will the people even accept me? Last they knew I was a prisoner set to be executed—An abomination in their eyes. Someone who killed their king. How is it possible they won’t revolt against me the second we tell them about this?” My questions kept tumbling out of my mouth like snowballs that gained momentum down a hill. I couldn’t stop them, and with each one that fired, my heart dropped lower and lower into my stomach. Maybe I was wrong to begin to think this could be a good idea.

  Döron was there then. “Whilst you lay unconscious, your grandmother and I fought tirelessly to mend all that was broken concerning you with those in our kingdom. It was not easy, mind you, and they took much convincing. In part, you may thank a handful of the guards who had overheard Aglar’s confession to you in regards to their former queen. They bore witness to the kingdom that Aglar killed your mother and conspired to kill you as a newborn. This assisted in your favor, for they no longer saw Aglar through clouded eyes.”

  “So what are you saying? They already accept me as their queen? The entire army and everything? All while I was unconscious?” My eyebrows were furrowed as far as they could go. I was skeptical. Totally unconvinced. It seemed way, way too easy. And nothing in my life was ever this easy.

  “We have no choice in the matter, Your Highness,” Cílon said with a bow, and I felt my jaw drop open again. “Every one of us here have already witnessed for ourselves the royal emblem of Lassaira on your flesh, whether we agree with it or not. Unless you were to abdicate the throne willingly, you are our queen, and we will most certainly give our queen our respect and allegiance. As honorable servants of Lassaira, we are under oath to obey your every command. It is our duty to do so.”

 

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