Anne grew very angry. As her nightmare grew darker, Anne began to transform physically. Her soft white skin turned to rough, black scales. She glanced down at her hands and saw black talons instead of her well-kept fingernails and her delicate fingers extended outward into large claws. She felt her teeth grow longer, sharpening into large fangs as her mouth and nose elongated, morphing into a long snout. As her arms lengthened out to her sides, she grew enormous leathery wings the size of great sails from naval warships. She squeezed her eyes tight through the pain when her back wrenched as her spine extended into a long tail and grew tall black spikes which ripped through her skin. The pain ceased once the metamorphosis was complete. Anne caught her breath and opened her eyes. She looked down at the ground passing by below her and saw the shadow of a winged dragon where the shadow of a woman had once been. As Terrwyn flew into view flapping her own great wings, Anne heard a fierce roar echoing in her ears and realized it was she who had made the sound. She opened her giant mouth and could taste the fire as flames leapt forth.
Anne bolted upright in her bed, her gown soaked through with sweat as the memories of the dream danced through her head. She sighed. It had felt so real. She decided she needed a drink and tossed the the covers back and climbed out of bed to summon a servant girl.
***
Anne poured herself another drink as she stood alone in the darkness of the night staring out over the city of Libetha. Well, not completely alone. She had come to realize that she was never completely alone. It seemed that Asmodeus was always there—though he rarely made his presence known—watching over her. Anne suspected that was at the behest of Orrick.
She heard a light tapping on the door. “Enter,” she said without turning. She heard the door creak as it opened behind her. She took a sip of her drink as she stood staring off into the darkness.
“You wanted to see me?” she heard Morgan’s voice behind her.
“Yes, come in,” she said as she slowly turned to face her brother. “Have a drink with me.” Anne motioned to a chair sitting on the other side of a table with a bottle of wine and glass.
“Thank you,” Morgan said. He crossed the room and was about to take the bottle to pour a glass when she was suddenly beside him, her hand already lifting the bottle. This startled Morgan causing him to leap back with a shout. He calmed himself quickly as Anne stared at him quizzically.
“Do I frighten you?” she asked.
Morgan shook his head immediately and forced a smile. “Of course not, sister,” he said warmly. “You just startled me is all.”
Anne smiled sweetly at him as she poured wine into his glass. The truth was she did frighten him. She was not the same person he had known just a year ago. In fact, she was not the same person he had known when he left Avonvale. She spent her time in darkness, was incredibly pale, and had developed such a disregard for human life that even he was shocked by it. Then there was the fact that not only had she forced Rayfen, a deadly shedom, to his knees to kiss her ring, but she had removed his helmet and visor without even the slightest protest from him.
“Sit,” she said, once again motioning to an empty chair. Morgan complied and watched her sit as well as he lifted his glass. He took a sip and as he did he saw movement, like the shadows themselves moving, out of the corner of his eye. He leapt to his feet.
“What was that?” Morgan asked excitedly as he stared at nothing but darkness.
Anne waved his fears away. “It was nothing. Do not worry, you are quite safe with me,” she assured him. Morgan glanced down at her and then back at the shadows. “Sit down, brother,” she said. It was clearly a command and he obeyed, but he kept his eyes on the shadows. “Morgan,” she said firmly and he turned to look at her. “You are my brother and I love you,” she said. “I promise I shall not let anything harm you.” She reached across the table holding out her hand for him. After a moment’s pause, he took it. “Ever,” she added. He smiled meekly with a nod.
Anne quickly thought of something to take Morgan’s mind off of his fears. “Do you remember when we were children having picnics and father and Uncle Alexandeon would organize those ridiculous contests?” she asked.
“Yes,” Morgan smiled.
“You were always quite good at them,” she said stroking his ego. “You won the archery contest every time.”
“Yes, I was fairly good with a bow,” he said with a laugh. “And you girls were relegated to painting.”
“And singing. Don’t forget singing,” she said with a grimace. “Of course, everyone always praised Terrwyn’s voice. The beautiful princess with the perfect voice.”
Morgan laughed. “Her voice was no better than yours, but she was the princess.”
“Yes,” Anne agreed. “Sephene and I would bemoan that for hours. Days before the picnic was to be held we would start complimenting each other on everything as if the other were Terrwyn,” Anne laughed. “Oh your chamber pot is filled with milk and honey, Your Highness,” Anne said, remembering how they mocked Terrwyn.
“Yes, you and Sephene were good friends for so long,” Morgan commented. “What happened?”
Anne finished her drink and removed the bottle of wine from the table, refilling her glass. “As you’ll remember, when I returned to court following…” she paused to search for the words, “…my mysterious absence, Sephene asked me where I had been. She said she had heard rumors, horrible rumors.” Anne took a sip.
“You told her the truth?” Morgan asked.
Anne nodded. “Yes. I said I had fallen in love with the handsome and brave knight, Sir Orrick, and that our love had produced a child.” Morgan watched as tears built in his sister’s eyes. “I told her how my mother forced my father to give my baby away. I told her how my heart had been broken twice. Once when Orrick left and the second when my son was taken. I was crying as I said these words.” Anne wiped tears from her cheeks. “I reached out to her for comfort, but she gave me none. She left me there alone and weeping. The next day, when I went to serve Terrwyn as a lady-in-waiting, I interrupted Terrwyn and Sephene whispering. The look they gave me made me realize that Sephene had told her. Terrwyn tried to hide it of course. She hugged me and welcomed me back to Avonvale. She said that she had missed me. Lies obviously.”
“But she kept you as a lady-in-waiting,” Morgan reminded Anne.
“Yes. That was the deal. Father convinced Uncle Alexandeon to have Terrwyn accept me as a lady-in-waiting. No one in court would dare criticize me then. Not openly anyway. But I was the one made to kneel and wash her feet before bed and put on her boots and stockings, while Sephene brushed her hair. I have just as much seraph blood as Terrwyn, but I was the one forced to my knees like a common servant.”
Morgan shook his head before taking a drink. “It is sad the way they treated all of us. They always treated the Greynaults better. Erec and I were close when we were younger, but after his mother died, he had very little to do with me, as though he were too important.”
“Yes, I remember.”
“And now he has Sephene acting as Queen,” Morgan chuckled.
“What?” Anne asked as her eyes cut sharply to Morgan.
“I still have sources in Avonvale. They tell me that Sephene has taken over the duties of Queen now that Erec claims the crown.”
Anne was suddenly on her feet. She tossed the table, bottle and all, against the wall. “That bitch sits on my throne?” she hissed as her eyes flashed with anger and her face reddened.
Morgan, too, was on his feet, backing away. He swallowed hard. “That is what I have heard,” he told her.
Anne threw back her head and shrieked into the darkness. She brought her eyes down to meet Morgan’s and he noticed that they had turned to blackness. He began to back away more quickly, toward the door. “Assemble my war council!” she hissed. “We are marching to Avonvale!”
***
Anne was fuming. She shouted angrily at Rayfen, Morgan, and Andrick as they stood before her. “I have left the affa
irs of the military up to you. Men, I was always told, are vastly superior in all matters of war. But here I am, in Libetha, while that bitch Sephene sits upon my throne in Avonvale!” Her eyes met each of theirs. “We are going to leave Andrick’s backwater kingdom and retake mine!” She spun away from them angrily and marched to her chair where she collapsed into it.
Anne was shocked to see that none of them had moved. “Well, what in the Three Realms are you waiting for?” she demanded. Morgan and Andrick looked at each other and then began to leave, but they were halted when they heard Rayfen’s hoarse voice. They turned back to see him approaching Anne. He fell to his knees before her.
“Your Majesty, reconsider. I understand the personal importance of Avonvale to you, and I understand that you wish it to be the capital of your empire,” he said. “But you must understand that once we take the White Fortress, Avonvale shall be an easy prize. This Sephene girl will come crawling to you on her hands and knees begging for mercy.”
“I don’t want her begging!” Anne shouted. “I want her flayed! I want her chopped up by her own people, her body burnt as a sacrifice to my greatness!”
“As it should be, Your Majesty,” Rayfen agreed. “But let us deprive the entire realm of hope first.”
“What do you mean?” Anne asked.
“Once Caerwynspire falls there shall be none that can stand against us. Avonvale’s forces are weak with many of their soldiers wiped out in the earlier battle.”
“Then retaking Avonvale should be easy.”
“Yes, quite, Your Majesty,” Rayfen agreed. “But we shall have lost even more of our own. We need to be at full strength to defeat Caerwynspire. But once it falls…once the White Fortress is under your command and King Artur lies at your feet, bowing or dying, everyone else in the Middle Realm will understand that it is hopeless to oppose you. All of these little rebellions will dissipate. Then we can march south to Avonvale and their own people will bring Erec and Sephene out to you and proclaim their eternal devotion. Then you may demand your sacrifice.”
Anne’s lips curved into a sinister smile.
Chapter 14
Ashleen sat cross legged on the stone floor of the Keep of Dracengard rubbing a soft cloth over the Sword of Light. She heard footsteps and glanced up to see Eamon standing beside her. He lowered himself down onto the floor, sitting cross legged like Ashleen.
“Hello, cousin,” Eamon said.
“Hello, Eamon,” Ashleen replied. “How are you doing?”
“Quite well, thank you,” Eamon smiled at her. “Is that the Caerwyn Family’s Sword of Light?”
Ashleen nodded. “It is.”
“When I am older I shall retrieve it on my Paladin Quest,” he beamed proudly. As a member of the royal family of Caerwynspire, Eamon would be allowed to be become a Paladin if he wished. He had dreamed of doing so all of his life.
“I’ll tell you a little secret,” Ashleen said as she leaned toward him and lowered her voice. “The sword you’ll recover on the quest is not the actual Sword of Light.”
“Really?” Eamon asked surprised.
“Really,” she told him with a wink.
“Then what is it?” Eamon asked now suddenly confused.
“Just a regular sword. Well, not regular. It’s exceptional, but made of steel, not light.”
Eamon leaned back, placing the heel of his hands on the stones. “That’s disappointing.”
Ashleen shrugged. “You don’t really expect Father to leave the Sword of Light all alone in a cave full of bears, do you?” she asked him, repeating the words Artur had said to her the day she left for Dracengard.
Eamon considered that for a moment. “I suppose not,” he finally answered. “Well, I’ll recover that sword then,” he said with a grin.
Ashleen smiled at him.
“I’m a good warrior,” he said.
“I know that you are,” she replied.
“And I’m not a child anymore. In fact, I’m going to be fourteen in a couple of weeks.”
“Well, we shall have to celebrate then,” Ashleen said as she patted his shoulder.
“My point is that I’m not that much younger than you, Ashleen,” he said. “I would make a good husband.”
Ashleen stopped polishing the sword and turned to stare at Eamon. “I know that to be true Eamon.” She raised her hand placing it upon his cheek. “I do love you, Eamon, but you are not the one for me.” Eamon frowned and looked away. “But do not fear, cousin, I have ten other sisters. Perhaps one shall be right for you.”
Eamon turned back with a coy smile. “What do you think about Terrwyn?” he asked. Ashleen laughed. “What?” Eamon asked.
Ashleen nodded past Eamon towards Terrwyn. “You’ve got a lot of competition there, Eamon.” Eamon turned to look at Terrwyn, then he noticed that she was staring at Dillan. He also noticed that Willem, too, was staring at Terrwyn. “Terrwyn is already going to break at least one heart. Do not let her break yours as well.”
Eamon turned back to Ashleen. “So tell me about your sisters,” he said causing Ashleen to laugh out loud.
Suddenly, they both felt a gust of wind and turned to see Aura standing inside the Keep beside Metatron. Metatron waved for them to join him. “Come, nephilim,” he said. “Gather around.” Ashleen and Eamon stood and joined the others around Metatron and Aura.
“You all know General Aura, yes?” he asked to nods. “Good. I have asked her to come here today to instruct you in combat.”
Terrwyn looked at Aura, who caught her eye and smiled at her. Terrwyn was taken aback at first. She returned the smile after a pause of uncertainty. She had only seen and spoken to Aura a couple of times, but had never seen her make anything remotely like a happy expression.
“Who is your best warrior?” Aura asked them when Metatron had finished speaking.
“I am,” Dillan spoke up.
“She means with a sword, Dillan,” Ashleen said causing the others to chuckle. “That would be me.”
Aura stared at them for a long moment sizing both up. “Which one of you normally wins when you fight?” she asked.
Dillan and Ashleen glanced at one another. “We haven’t actually fought,” he said.
“Then how do you know you are the best?” Aura asked. She then turned to the others. “Back away, give them some room,” she replied. Willem recovered two wooden swords and brought them to Dillan and Ashleen. As the pair reached for them they were stopped by Aura’s voice. “No,” she said. “You shall use these.” As she spoke she drew the two swords of light from the sheaths on her back and stepped over to them, handing a sword to each. Dillan and Ashleen turned to look at Metatron, but he made no movement or expression.
Aura backed away. “Begin,” she commanded.
Dillan felt the weight of the sword. He liked it. It was almost weightless. He rushed toward Ashleen thrusting forward and she quickly blocked it, then parried with a blow of her own which he blocked.
“Faster!” Aura said.
Dillan attacked again moving faster this time, however, it was still just fast for a human, not for a seraph. He and Ashleen fought hard their two swords clanging against one another.
“Faster!” Aura shouted. “Metatron has told me that you can move like a seraph so do it!”
Dillan and Ashleen continued to spar, and they both tried to increase their speed. Neither moved like a seraph, however. Aura turned to Metatron. “You said you have seen Dillan move like us?” she asked.
“Yes,” Metatron replied. “When he was sleep walking.”
Chapter 15
The small lizard scurried away leaving a trail in the dirt behind it. It stopped for the briefest moment and Lisabeth took that opportunity to pounce, crouching low and leaping forward. Pounce is actually too kind of a word. In fact Lisabeth more or less fell toward the lizard, exhausted and starving.
The arrogance she had felt at the beginning, when she had all but demanded she be allowed to attempt the Paladin Quest, had evapo
rated. The idea that if Ashleen could do it, then she could do it too, had long since disappeared as she spent cold nights curled up into a ball weeping.
Lisabeth was nearing starvation, her ribs poking through her skin, her legs limp from exhaustion. She was surviving on the bugs, lizards, and other small creatures she was able to capture, but even that was becoming more difficult as her energy levels decreased along with her food supply.
In her brashness Lisabeth had discounted all of the times her father had taken Ashleen out hunting and camping as if she were a prince instead of a princess. Lisabeth accompanied them a couple of times, but not nearly as often as Ashleen. While Lisabeth was a skilled warrior, she simply did not have the same experience as Ashleen at living outdoors, hunting, snaring, cleaning, and cooking her own food. She had underestimated the difficulty in procuring meals and sleeping on the ground without even clothing between her and the cold dirt. She counted herself fortunate that Tomfrey had taught her to build a fire, skin an animal, and cook it. Of course, she had to catch an animal large enough to skin first. So far her largest meal had been a plump lizard. Now she chased another.
Lisabeth pushed herself up off of the dirt as the lizard scurried up the side of a large boulder. It turned its head around to watch her and she could not help but feel as though the tiny creature were mocking her. She narrowed her eyes with determination and once again charged the little monster. It raced quickly over the top of the boulder, scaling the side with ease. Lisabeth climbed over the boulder as well, determined to capture and eat the little lizard and all the while wishing it were bigger.
When she reached the top of the boulder and peeked over she was very disappointed that her wish had apparently been granted. Standing on the other side was a group of lizards each larger than a man. She drew in a breath when she spied the drakmere. The beasts looked up at her and she quickly let herself drop back down to the hard ground, before sprinting away as fast as she could. The fright she felt gave Lisabeth all the energy she needed to flee as fast as her legs would carry her, empty stomach or not.
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