He aimed.
As I was carried away towards the dungeon, the place
where nightmares were created, I watched as the arrow flew.
“Eyes open,” the king called after me.
I watched as the arrow pierced the commoner through the center of his forehead.
“Like the apple,” I muttered, staring at my trembling wrist.
But I hadn’t hesitated. It was the tremor; a result of my stupid, stupid injury—
“No excuses. You failed. You know what that means,” King
Sadim would say, looking at his guards. “A week in isolation.
How does that sound?”
I held my hands over my ears, the marks on my back stinging.
He’s not alive anymore. He can’t do anything, he can’t send me there—
King Sadim reached forward, his fingers touching my shoulder. I cowered.
“The only person you should be afraid of,” he said, a sadistic smile spreading across his face, “is me.”
I jumped away from the touch, an electrifying jolt running through my body.
It was Ashes.
“Are you . . . okay?” she asked hesitantly, her eyebrows drawn. Bruises were forming around on neck, ones that looked a lot like fingerprints. Her nose was bleeding.
“I’m fine,” I gasped, realizing I was out of breath. I blinked rapidly, trying to focus.
The Knights surrounded Galien’s body. Lance turned around, his forest green eyes falling on me.
“What happened?” he asked as he approached me. “Did you do it on purpose?”
My fists shook as I clenched them to my sides.
“How could you miss? You’re—”
“An assassin?” I snapped, my voice surprisingly steady. I
imagined my ten-year-old self, my eleven, twelve, thirteen-
year-old self, sitting alone in the dungeon for weeks at a time, scared, tired, lonely, aching. “It seems that I’ve gotten a bit rusty.”
They wanted a proper burial for Galien, but we had already lost precious time. Instead, the Knights wrapped his body up and set fire to it.
We mounted our horses. I pulled back the reins, ready to
leave.
“How could you?” Batch asked, his chestnut eyes darker than I’d remembered. He was bruised above his eyebrow, and blood from his nose splattered across his caramel skin.
I gently pulled on the right side of the reins, turning the horse so that I could face the furious knight.
“We could’ve saved Galien, given the bandits the wagon, anything to—”
“Batch, don’t,” Kay said, pulling up beside him.
I raised a hand, silencing both of them.
“I did what I had to do. If he had taken the wagon, we all would’ve died from the cold, or starvation.”
“There was still a chance to save him—”
“There wasn’t, and you know it.”
“Now is not the time, Batch,” Taj said, mounting his horse. His cloak was torn just below his shoulder, blood seeping through his bandages. “Galien went down fighting. That’s what we all want, as knights. He gave his own life to protect us.”
I’m sorry, I could’ve waited, I had, I had to, because that’s what he taught me, because . . .
Because old habits died hard.
TWENTY ONE
I stood alone in a clearing, facing a tree.
This tree was going to get it.
I kicked at it repeatedly, jamming the heel of my boot against it. I had purposely picked a weak, skinny tree, so that I could feel better about myself by actually denting it.
I held my fists up to my face, ready to unleash my wrath.
“If I see you with unnecessary injuries, you know what’ll happen, don’t you?” a very familiar voice asked me, one that sent shivers down my spine.
“Yes,” I said quickly, steadying myself, “the dungeon, I know.”
The moment the words left my lips, my eyes widened. I dropped my fists, spinning around, trying to find the source of the voice.
That was when I realized that my mind had finally, finally broken.
King Sadim stood in front of me, the crown glistening on his head. His face was mocking, the sadistic smile plastered on his face.
“You . . . you were dead.”
“Who said I’m not?” the king asked, stepping towards me. I backed away, bumping into the same tree I had abused before.
“Why are you here?”
“You know why I’m here.” He raised his hand, pointing a
finger at his temple. “You know exactly why.”
“Is this because of Galien?”
He shook his head. “I perfected you once, I can do it again.”
“By torturing me? By making me sit alone for weeks because I didn’t want to kill someone? For making my training so harsh I was covered in bruises and wounds from head to toe? By making me fight against grown men who never held back, because those were your specific orders? ‘Don’t hold back.’”
“By training you. Every great warrior goes through hell, and that’s simply what I did to you.”
I scoffed.
Great warrior.
“You’ve lost your touch since that wretched woman killed me,” he said, his dark eyes falling on my trembling hand. It hadn’t stopped shaking since the bandits had shown up.
I hid it behind my back.
“I always think ahead,” he said with a smirk. “You were trained to use both hands with equal dexterity, which is the only reason you’ve made it this far. With that,” he gestured to my scarred shoulder, hidden beneath layers of cloth, “you would’ve been dead a long time ago.”
“You hurt me.” I felt so small all of a sudden, shrinking in front of this terrible, terrible man.
“What, those?” his eyes fell on my back, lingering on the hidden scars, “you were strong enough to handle it.”
I bit the inside of my lip, my eyes burning. “I hope you’re burning in hell. I killed so many because of you.”
“Rightfully so. They were traitors to the throne. And,” he added, his eyes narrowing, a sly smirk forming on his lips, “you did it willingly.”
“You didn’t give me a choice,” I spat. “You felt threatened by everyone because you were a damn coward.”
“But you did what I said because you knew I was right.”
“Because I was thankful for a full stomach, for a place to live. I didn’t know better.”
The king threw his head back, letting out a guffaw.
“Didn’t know better?” he asked with wide eyes, laughing. I realized Xavier looked nothing like him. “You knew exactly what you were doing. Your memories are wrong, all wrong. You were the coldest child I’d ever met. Why did you think I picked you?”
“My parents were a part of the rebel army. That was reason enough.”
He shook his head. “Do you think I would’ve kept you around for so many years if that was the reason? No, you were too skilled. I couldn’t let you go. You were like . . . a puppet,” he said, his eyes full of thought. “You were too intelligent for me to just get rid of.”
A sudden, sickening thought popped into my mind.
Had Sadim made me kill my own mother unknowingly? I didn’t remember her face, nor paid attention to all the people I had killed.
What if he had sent me on a mission to take her life, laughing at me from behind the doors as I had walked out of his throne room, picking the perfect weapon to take her life with?
“Did I kill my mother? My father?”
Sadim shrugged.
“Answer the question.”
“I am the product of your thoughts, Adalia. I know only what you know.”
“Then,” I said, furiously, reaching down to create a snowball, “Get out of my head!” I let the ball fly, and as soon as it
reached him, the king evaporated, tiny particles of him dispersing. And just like that, he was gone.
I collected my things and, with
a disgruntled sigh, marched back to the campsite, wiping my eyes.
I trudged through the snow, frozen twigs crunching under my boots as I ducked under branches.
I regretted saying that I loved snow because I was beginning to despise it. It was cold and the nights were long—too long. It made things more difficult than they needed to be.
As I grumbled to myself about the cold weather, a sudden scream pierced through the chilly night air. My heart racing, I began to run towards the source the sound, realizing, with a sudden horror, that it had come from the direction of our campsite.
I ran through the forest, branches whipping at my face, stinging my body. I could smell smoke from the campfire and realized I was close. Picking up the pace, I ran, stumbling over logs and repeatedly cursing out loud.
As I toppled into the center of the clearing, the first thing I noticed was that there were too many people.
Damn it.
The bandits were back, and I would bet everything I had that they were here for revenge.
I pulled out my sword.
“Why are you all standing there?” I asked, irritated. The bandits surrounded our campsite and the Knights, Lance, and Ashes stood in a ring, backs faced together, holding their swords out. Taj was missing.
“Behind you,” Kay said, his green eyes bright in awe and what seemed like . . . fear. I felt something warm on the back of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. A low growl emitted from the creature behind me—a deep, guttural sound.
I whipped around, stumbling back.
I held out my sword, but before I could act, the gigantic animal had pounced onto my shoulders, slamming me into the ground. My head cracked against a log, rendering me shocked and defenseless for a few moments.
Its jaws neared my face, the stench of its foul, repulsive breath causing me to gag.
I held my breath. My sword had been knocked many feet away from me. I stared right into the black slits of its amber eyes. The animal was definitely a cat, but unlike one I had ever seen before.
It resembled a panther, but I could tell right away it was a mixed creature—really mixed. With large black spots all over its body and golden, shimmering fur filling in all the thin spaces between them, it reminded me of a leopard. I had only seen those once; panthers were common around these parts, but weren’t as dangerous as the rare leopard.
But it was too large.
The animal was huge, its claws burying into my shoulders. Its arms and legs were not as slim as those of a leopard or panther but thick and muscled. It had the strength of a lion—or two. Its canines were so long, they reached over their bottom lips and towards the chin.
Being killed by a creature as magnificent as this didn’t sound too bad. If I had to die, I hoped it wouldn’t be a natural death, but being killed by a human was even worse than that.
Now, being mauled by a drakon, let’s say, or this thing? Why not? I’d take it gladly.
The animal opened its jaws, ready to rip into my skull. A large glob of saliva hung from its mouth.
I watched as it dropped, the burning liquid landing on my cheek. I closed my eyes, ready to face death.
Suddenly, a sharp whistle cut through the clearing, echoing as it bounced around an invisible barrier. Just like that, the pressure was lifted from my shoulders as the animal backed away, its jaws shut, as if I never existed.
Admittedly, I was hurt.
I sucked in a breath, gasping as I realized I’d been holding it in for too long. Rolling to the side I scrambled for the glimmering hilt of my sword, straining to reach it.
A boot came down, stepping on it. The hilt disappeared into the snow.
I looked up, a masked bandit looking down at me. He sat down on his haunches, looking at me intently with his dark eyes. I noticed a scar running from the right side of his forehead, cutting through his eyebrow, over his eyelid and disappearing down the mask which started at his cheekbone.
I frowned, narrowing my eyes.
“You—”
“I must say I’m hurt that you didn’t recognize my beautiful eyes,” he said, a smirk in his voice.
My blood turned cold.
“I don’t blame you. The scar is a bit off-putting, isn’t it?” The bandit reached up, yanking down on the mask that covered the bottom half of his face.
“Cyprian?”
TWENTY TWO
King Tarquin of Trella had five sons, and a daughter who many believed was the devil’s spawn.
The oldest of the boys was Valentin, then Casimir, Theo, Alaric, and finally, Cyprian. As the youngest, Cyprian often found himself trapped in boredom. He yearned to venture the seas, as Trella was surrounded by water. There was no point for him to stay at the castle—he’d never live long enough to take the throne, anyway.
So, he did what he did best.
He decided to travel.
He was given a ship from his father on his birthday to venture out into the endless waters and discover the secrets hidden within each roaring wave, every cataclysmic storm.
But for now, he was to only explore whatever he could find near the docks.
Of course, Cyprian did not listen to his father’s wishes.
Eventually, Cyprian and his crew were captured by pirates. As each of his crew members was murdered in front of him, Cyprian had to make a quick decision. And so, he begged the pirate king, Augustus, to take him under his wing. Soon, Cyprian became Augustus’s second in command. He spent his years on Amghadon. His parents, the king and queen of Trella, gave up searching for him, sentencing Cyprian to the ravaging storms of the ocean. Little did they know, their son never
wanted to go back—his home was Amghadon.
After the drakon destroyed the island, I never found Augustus or Cyprian’s bodies and believed them to be dead.
Until now.
As I sat behind Cyprian on one of our horses with my hands bound behind my back and a sack over my head, I thought of all the reasons that could account for why Cyprian was treating me like this.
Maybe, maybe it was because I destroyed the only home he ever loved?
But, to be quite fair, it hadn’t been my fault that the drakon did what it did. It was Augustus who forced us into the volcano, so really, if anyone was pointing fingers, they should’ve been towards him.
“Where are we going?” I asked, trying to slide my hands out of the rope. I was starting to lose feeling in my fingers. When he didn’t reply, I leaned forward, saying, “Are you sure you want to take us back to your settlement? Maybe you should be a bit careful because of what happened last time. I may or may not have plans to unearth a giant serpent that will—”
“Shut up, Adalia.” The horse came to a stop. We had been traveling for a while now, and by now, the sun should’ve started to come up.
The horses moved uphill. From the sound of hooves occasionally scraping against rock, I realized we were in a more mountainous area.
He dismounted the horse, and then, to my surprise, I felt him untie the ropes behind my back. Then, he grabbed my hand.
“Come on. Get off.”
Yeah, he was definitely leading me to my death.
As I slid off the horse, he helped me pull off the bag. I repeatedly blinked as the sudden burst of light blinded me momentarily. At the same time, I saw the bag coming off Ashes’s head. Lance stood beside her, freed as well. We were standing on a mountain.
He was going to make us jump off one by one, then. That was his plan.
Batch, Asselin, Kay and Simon were all staring down behind me, mouths gaping in astonishment, eyes sparkling. I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering what it could be that they were so amazed at.
I turned around, only to come face to face with Cyrpian.
“Behold,” he said, a twinkle in his eyes and a grin on his face. He opened his arms. “My empire.”
We stood facing towering stone gates that were built inside a mountain. On top of the gates stood guards who opened them using some chain-lever mechanism. They were so
large, they took a whole minute to open. When we were ushered in, we could immediately see the city’s magnificence.
My jaw dropped open.
A long, broad bridge, as wide as ten men, connected the entrance to the city. As we stepped onto the bridge, I looked over one side, and immediately regretted it. It was so high up, I couldn’t see where the arches met the ground. Looking closer, I realized the bridge was built over water.
Waterfalls flowed from the city’s center. Gold was built into the bridges and capital building. The rural areas contained houses.
This ancient civilization must’ve existed hundreds of years ago. The architecture was old but beautiful.
“This looks like . . .” I trailed off, unable to convert my feelings into words.
“Knassos, from the stories our parents used to tell us?” Cyprian completed for me. “That’s because it is.”
“Na-sauce?” Simon asked, tearing his deep, steely blue eyes away from the new world we had just discovered.
“Knassos,” Cyprian nodded, and the Knights repeated the name after him, still mesmerized.
Knassos.
A kingdom that, according to the story, had been built by dwarves. I had imagined the kingdom to be smaller, but apparently, dwarves liked to create things too big for even humans.
“Who . . . who are all these people?” I asked Cyprian as we walked in, earning curious glances.
“They’re from Astodia,” he said. Confused, I looked at him, waiting for an explanation. “And Crea, and Dystalphi. After the drakon escaped, I took as many survivors as I could and got them out of Amghadon. We docked near Astodia, venturing into a nearby village. The people were so afraid, Adalia,” he said, turning to me. “They’d seen the drakon, and Queen Lorelle wasn’t helping. They wanted to leave, to run and hide somewhere, but all these people couldn’t just take shelter in the castle town—there was simply not enough space.
“Since I was used to living in the mountains, that’s where I headed first. My men and I explored for a few months, trying to find a new place to live, a safe place, like Amghadon: hidden and convenient. So, you can imagine my excitement when I fell upon this place.” Cyprian spun around, taking in his kingdom. “Immediately, we got to work. I sent my men to bring as many people as they could from villages around the three kingdoms. By then, many villages had already burnt down, so it was easy to get people to follow us here. And now, this place is thriving.”
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