One Crown & Two Thrones: The Guardians

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One Crown & Two Thrones: The Guardians Page 41

by Isolde, Siobhan


  “Why sister, surely you know,” he teased, his black eyes following her hand.

  “Know what?”

  “There is only one God of the universe, one heir to Calhuni.”

  “So?”

  “So sister, we must eradicate the problem.”

  “What problem?”

  “That there are two heirs, not one.”

  “Your wrong,” spat Eveline turning her face up to him, a strange feeling curling up within her, “there is only one, me.”

  “Have you forgotten, we both share the blood of Heiden,” Heidan smiled.

  “He will never let you have his throne!” Eveline cried, finding the dagger and driving it into his chest violently. Heidan did not move and Eveline became still, waiting for blood to flow from his chest, chilled by his reaction.

  “No dagger can kill me,” he laughed, taking the dagger out of his chest, “nothing can.” Eveline looked at her half-brother, fear gripping her.

  “Why do you hate me so?” she whispered, “Why do you hate?”

  “How can I not hate you?” Heidan responded blandly. “It is time your people knew their real master,” he began throwing the dagger away, and taking her by the throat, “Your world will fall away, everything that you hold dear, will fall away into darkness, your people, your kingdom,” he brought her face up to his, “your God.”

  “Never!” she stuttered desperately trying to breathe.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure, I have taken your throne, taken your people,” smiled Heidan, “And I will take you.”

  “No, my people will stand strong,” spat Eveline.

  “Your people are divided and weak, always weak,” Heidan rolled his eyes, “justice, mercy, peace, bla bla bla,” he spat, “they need to learn, and they need to learn that they have no voice, they have no rights, and they are vermin, slaves to a God that has turned his back on them.”

  “He hasn’t,” cried Eveline.

  “Oh but he has and you know he has,” Heidan argued back, licking his lips. “But my God, my Father, he will kill your God, he will obliterate everything that He stands for.”

  “I will never let that happen!” Eveline shouted trying to free herself from his grip, ever tightening.

  “And how will you do that?” Heidan teased, kicking her in the stomach. Eveline cried out loud, her body bending in pain. Concentrate, a voice cried within her, concentrate and it will come. Eveline closed her eyes and sought the magic within and willed control over Heidan’s hands. Instantly she felt them drop, Heidan looking down in astonishment. Eveline quickly found her feet, and held out her right hand, using it to control him.

  “I think you underestimate me,” she smiled.

  “Eveline!” a voice yelled, suddenly the scene changed and she was back in the stone circle, Heidan on his knees. Eveline turned her eyes and found Theodore running towards her baring his sword. Heidan feeling her power weaken, got up and threw her to the nearest stone, turning to face Theodore.

  Theodore quickly glanced over at the fallen Eveline, who was getting up from the grass, blood coming out of her ear. The sun was rising higher in the sky and Theodore, using all his strength threw himself at Heidan, who was now drawing out his own sword, red with fire. Eveline opened her eyes and saw through her blurred vision, Heidan and Theodore fighting. Getting up she looked around for Galean’s dagger and saw it a few feet away, near to were Heidan was standing. Limping over the dewy grass she found the weapon and clasped it in her hand.

  “No Eveline you must stand in the light!” Theodore yelled as he tried to punch Heidan, only to be flung backwards. Eveline watched as the sun hit the stones, creating a vertical alignment, this was it, she had to leave now. Heidan, distracted by Theodore did not notice Eveline making her way to the light, dagger in her right hand, and satchel in her left. Heidan drew his dagger up above the broken body of Theodore readying it for his assault. Eveline watched on in horror, and without thinking aimed Galean’s dagger towards Heidan’s head, watching it fly through the light and stab Heidan in the neck, causing him to fall instantly. She knew she couldn’t kill him, as a ringlet of light began to form about her body, the environment changing. She was beginning to fade away from the world.

  “Theodore!” she cried holding out her hand, “Take my hand!”

  Theodore watched the light spiralled around Eveline and got up, limping as fast as he could towards her, passing Heidan, who was on his knees struggling to take out the dagger from his neck. Stretching out his hand, Theodore tried to find hers, but heard a loud piercing cry erupt around him. Turning he saw Heidan, on his feet, Galean’s dagger in his hand, aimed directly at Eveline.

  “No!” Theodore cried, watching Heidan throw it, the dagger slicing the air. With one last try, Theodore ran to Eveline and shielded her body, wrapping himself around her, light binding them together, as they fell into darkness. Eveline closed her eyes, holding Theodore tightly to her as they travelled through time, back to Calhuni. Flying through darkness, Eveline felt them both suddenly falling into a new atmosphere, causing her lungs to burn at the speed. Falling rapidly, Eveline opened her eyes, Theodore was silent and his grip on her was beginning to weaken, causing her to hold on tighter to his heavy weight. With a heavy and unseen force, Eveline and Theodore hit the water hard, plunging into its darkness causing her to momentarily lose consciousness, losing contact with Theodore.

  Chapter XVIII

  The Prophecy

  Mathilda, Aabe, Elanean and Morad sat around the large fire, rubbing their hands together, waiting.

  “Not entirely sure it was the smartest decision all of us coming to collect her,” Morad muttered, his green eyes ablaze.

  “Why?” Elanean asked, plating her long brown hair, lifting her eyes to her brother, who was heavily dressed in his woodland armour, his long, straight hair also plaited down his back. Morad looked to his younger sister.

  “I have a bad feeling about tonight,” he remarked darkly. Mathilda stole a glance at her best friend, he was troubled.

  “What do you feel?” Mathilda asked, planting her sword into the sand, the flames licking it wildly.

  “Rumours have spread through Galgor, Beon has sent a group of assassins to Summe,” he answered, locking eyes with Mathilda. Mathilda and her close friends had grown up on the mythical and mysterious island of Summe under the tutorage of the leader of the Dunaman clan, Anvin a great and renowned priest of magic. Only the high priest of the Dunaman tribe could bless the High King of the North, so, Mathilda thought to herself, it would make sense that Beon would try to kill him.

  “Only rumours, we would know if assassins landed on our beaches,” Aabe interceded. “I would have seen it in the flames, my father also.” Anvin had only one living child and his name was Aabe, also a great master of the old magic, a deeply rooted and deeply embedded magic that only the Dunaman tribe wielded. Unlike Morad, Aabe was not a great physical warrior, his true weapon was his mind. Mathilda was not born into the Dunaman tribe, she had been taken by the late king Elieor too Anvin for protection after her mother’s murder. Mathilda wielded no powers of the mind, instead she was known as a fierce warrior, beautiful but deadly. Evalean on the other hand was a bow woman, come to Summe as an orphan alongside her brother Morad, who was a great swordsman. The group now spent their time living amongst the forests and woods having finished their schooling under Anvin a year back.

  “Maybe our eyes have been averted elsewhere, maybe we haven’t been searching,” Evalean said quietly, sharpening an arrow and keeping her eyes on the star filled sky above.

  “We will head back to Calnuthe as soon as we collect Celestine,” commanded Mathilda getting up and going over to her horse, sea, stroking his long neck. Mathilda and Evalean differed in appearances, where Mathilda was tall and strong, Evalean was smaller in height and petite in frame making her a swift bowman. Mathilda had cut her hair short, making her look almost like a pixie, whereas Evalean’s long brunette hair was beautifully plated down her back. Mathi
lda was striking in appearance, she had a strong and unyielding face which usually helped when she was on the attack, Evalean however had a heart shaped face, soft and kind, masking her stubborn and determined nature. Morad was a stronger and taller version of his sister, he was a quiet and reserved man, taken to bouts of morbidity and bad temper. Aabe was gentle and fair to behold a delusion he crafted, hiding his real abilities and nature.

  “Mathilda, look!” cried Evalean getting up from her position in the sand and following what looked to be a falling star, hurtling through the atmosphere at a great speed making directly for the sea in front of them.

  “Stand back!” ordered Mathilda, knowing there would be a giant wave upon impact. The group stood on the edge of the forest, bringing their horses with them and watching on in silence as Celestine crashed into the ocean, causing a surge of water to wash up on the beach. Waiting for the water to abate, Aabe re lit the now damp fire, whilst Mathilda ran into the water to look for Celestine. Evalean stood on the shore watching as Mathilda swam back towards them, with Celestine in her arms. Morad was also swimming to shore with another person who seemed to be lifeless.

  “Aabe, blankets!” cried Mathilda bringing Celestine to shore and turning her on her side so that she could breathe. Looking across at Morad, she frowned. “Alive?” she asked, soaking and cold.

  “No, dead,” he yelled back, hauling the lifeless body of Theodore over his shoulder, a dagger sticking out of his back and bringing him to the fire, setting him down gently, face down in the sand, removing the dagger gently from his back. Mathilda and Evalean both carried Celestine who was now awake, shivering violently. Dropping her beside the fire, Mathilda got down on her knees and lifted the wet hair from Celestine’s face.

  “Theodore,” she cried, trying to get up.

  “Hush you must take a minute to calm yourself,” ordered Mathilda gently. Celestine looked up at Mathilda.

  “Mathilda?” she asked curiously.

  “How do you know my name?” Mathilda enquired a frown upon her brow.

  “I have been here in this moment before,” coughed Celestine, “we must hurry,” she cried, getting up, soaked, her chainmail hanging off her heavily. Turning she looked over at a rough looking man, bent over a body. Running she fell down beside Theodore and turned him over, sitting back in horror as she looked down at his lifeless face.

  “Celestine,” Mathilda called after her, “what do you mean you have been here before?” Forcing back tears, Celestine looked over at Mathilda.

  “I had a dream similar to this moment, if I am correct we are about to be attacked from the forest,” she announced sitting forward again and bending down to kiss Theodores forehead. Mathilda, Evalean, Aabe and Morad looked at one another.

  “I told you I had a bad feeling,” Morad re iterated sarcastically, before draping a blanket over the lifeless Theodore, putting the dagger into his leather pants and getting up. “I am sorry for you loss,” he said hurriedly, “but we must leave.”

  “I cannot leave my husband on this beach!” cried Celestine, bending over Theodore once more and cradling him in her arms.

  “We will come back for his body,” ordered Mathilda, now commanding her friends to take to their horses and prepare to leave. Celestine looked up at the fierce Mathilda and gulped back her grief, she knew she had to leave if she was to live, Theodore would have understood. Mathilda stood back for a moment and gave Celestine some space to say her goodbyes.

  “My dear,” she cried, “I will always love you, you saved my life again,” she muttered through her tears, her body shivering in the cold. After a moment she lifted the blanket and placed it over his lifeless face.

  “Come,” Mathilda whispered, “we will come back for him,” she promised walking forward and helping Celestine up, guiding her over to Sea. Celestine let Mathilda help her up onto the horse.

  “Here,” Morad rode over to Celestine and handed her the dagger, clean and unsheathed. Celestine took it into her hand, it was Galean’s. Quietly she put it away and wrapped her arms about Mathilda’s waist as they lurched forward into the forest, leaving Theodore behind.

  “We make for Calnuthe!” she yelled, riding hard in between the trees. Celestine turned her head once more, she would return for him she promised.

  *

  Galean stood alone under the arch of the entrance to the palace, downcast and tired. Down at the lake he could see his dragon, Nuyay awaiting his return. The sky was clear and full of stars smiled Galean smoking on his pipe, the sound of songs filling the air around him. It had been arranged that he should marry, Murtha, daughter of the chieftain Galtha, leader of the Tavan clan, who dwelled in the far north. Galean had never met Murtha, all he knew of his wife to be was that she was meek and young.

  “Why am I to marry a woman I have never met before?” he had argued with his father Ballour as they walked under the ancient trees of Meerin.

  “I do not wish it myself, but Galtha has the support of the northern tribes, your marriage to his daughter will secure our safety, Beon has secured Galgor and means to invade Fiar,” Ballour answered solemnly looking across to his heavy laden son, his oldest and wisest of sons.

  “What has happened to make Beon so vengeful?” Galean asked his father, majestic in appearance and being.

  “He believes that I murdered his wife,” sighed Ballour.

  “Why would he think such a thing?” cried Galean, Beon’s wife had succumbed to an epidemic that had run wild through the North a few years previous, killing his wife and unborn child.

  “He thinks I started the epidemic, he believes that because I did not trust her or her magic that I had her killed by magic,” Ballour explained, folding his arms across his chest.

  “That’s ridiculous, I know she was in league with some dark people, but she wasn’t a major threat to the Kingdom,” Galean said darkly.

  “She had been carefully poisoning my wine for two weeks when they were last here together for the summer festival,” Ballour answered darkly, “I thought it was my poor constitution, but my serer examined the wine one afternoon and found traces of pitweed in it.”

  “You never said,” whispered Galean, shocked by the tactics of Beon’s wife, yes he did not like her at all, but he had never taken her for a murderer.

  “You were away,” smiled Ballour, “and I had her banished back to Galgor never to return.”

  “And then the epidemic flourished,” Galean frowned, “I can see how Beon would take that as revenge, but many people died, and you are no ruthless murderer.”

  “Off course I am no murderer, fearsome I may be at times, but I am no murderer, at least you and Loaki believe me,” Ballour sighed, stopping and turning down to his son.

  “Loaki and I will protect the north from his vengeance, unfortunately his own people will follow him until death,” Galean uttered beneath is breath, “and he has cut off our trading with the south, but we will find ways,” he promised his father firmly.

  “I have heard rumours that he is looking to the West, that he intends on killing Anvin, the High Priest,” Ballour began his voice cracking with anxiety, “if this proves true, then we are heading towards dark times, if he kills Anvin and his son then he will need no priest to bless him if he takes my throne.”

  “That will not happen,” Galean assured his father, “Loaki and I will make sure that does not happen.”

  “I cannot but help feel that a dark cloud settles upon the South and the North, I worry about the future, I worry about the world we are creating for our young generations.”

  “Father, there is as much light in this world as there is darkness, we must unite those who favour justice and freedom,” Galean declared openly, “and believe that the prophecy will come true.”

  “What is she like, Celestine?” Ballour asked his son curiously. Galean smiled at his memories of Eveline, known to his people as Celestine.

  “She is fierce when she needs to be, but gentle too, she has much to learn if she is to rule wit
h absolute certainty,” he answered seriously, “if the prophecy is true, if she returns tonight, then she will have along and trying journey ahead of her.”

  “She will need good counsel around her,” said Ballour thoughtfully, “if she were to come here, I could help her.”

  “The problem would be finding her,” said Galean pessimistically, how could he find her?

  “Keep your eyes open tonight my son, you may spot her amongst the stars, and if you do,” he took his eldest by the arms, “you must find her and bring her to me, I can offer her safety and time, time to become who she is meant to be.”

  “She is as stubborn as an ox,” laughed Galean, “If I find her she will not want to speak to me, she will turn the other way.”

  “She must come here Galean, she must, there is much I need to speak with her about, before she turns to the South,” Ballour warned, dropping his arms, “now I must go back, before I miss the merry dancing.”

  Galean trembled as he recalled his earlier conversation with his father. It was indeed true, a dark cloud lay heavy over the people of the North and South.

  “My Lord,” a servant ran up to Galean panting heavily.

  “Yes?” he responded taking in the young man’s worried expression.

  “Your father has told me to tell you that the rumours are true, you are to go to Anvin at once, you are to bring him and his son back here,” cried the servant, his brow wet with sweat.

  “Tell my father that I leave immediately,” Galean commanded turning from the boy and leaving the palace at once.

  Nuyay watched his master run down the path towards him and bent his back low waiting for his master to jump on. As Galean jumped onto the back of Nuyay he heralded him onwards. Taking flight, Galean ordered Nuyay to fly west. Nuyay ascended the star filled sky and began the long journey towards the West. As they passed the mountains, Galean and Nuyay noticed a ball of fire that was falling into the atmosphere with great speed and heading straight towards Summe.

 

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