The Allyen (The Story of the First Archimage Book 1)

by Michaela Riley Karr

  I realized I’d watched too long as a sword swiped through the air above my head, nearly cutting a couple inches off of my brown hair. I dropped low and rolled to where I could get my sword around to face Luke. His eyes fiercely glared me down. All of this always seemed more real to the Owenses than it seemed for me, but I was proud of my progress.

  I knocked him out of the way with a little help from my magic and then withdrew my bow, nocking an arrow onto the string in only a couple of seconds. Probably a new personal record, I thought, as I smoothly stretched the string back to my anchor, the corner of my mouth, and let the arrow fly.

  James had kindly etched a poor rendition of a dragon on a nice, thick tree, which I had been using for target practice. I preferred to think of it as Rhydin instead. Every arrow I sunk deep into that bark was plunging into Rhydin’s heart. I was so ready to rid the world of him that I practiced my magic nearly every minute of every day to the point it was easy to forget that I had once been terrified of it. I had once believed magic was only a scare tactic that Royals used, an especially effective one at that, and that the world would be better off without it.

  Now, my eyes had been opened to the benefits of magic and how it could be used to protect people. I truly believed that being an Allyen was a good thing and not a curse. It had turned my previous life of a simple farmer upside down, and, for the first time, it might actually feel worth it to save people. I felt ready to face this Einanhi dragon of Darkness.

  “Nicely done, Lina.” Frederick quit his onslaughts of wind and clapped as he smiled lightly. “You’ve come far since your magic awakened and saved you from falling to your death.”

  Sam grinned while I grimaced, remembering my near collision with the canyon floor. By now, I knew at least ten spells that could prevent that from ever happening. “Oh shush, Frederick. Whose fault was it that we were running for our lives in the first place?”

  The prince blushed and promptly backpedaled off of my dignity. “I am well aware, Lina. Thank you.” He smiled again before turning back to the campfire to find one of the Owenses to take him home for the day.

  “Wait, Frederick,” I called after him, and once he turned toward me with an expectant look, I added, “Shouldn’t Evan have come by now?”

  Frederick’s expression became conflicted. “If I could have my choice, he would have been here a week ago. However, Luke has informed me that Evan refuses to leave Auklia without King Daniel and his queen. Apparently, Daniel does not want to abandon his kingdom until he absolutely must.”

  “Isn’t that dangerous? Does he know how fast that Darkness can move?” I asked, shuddering at the memory of Luke and Rachel speeding with their magic as fast as they possibly could and still nearly not making it. If it hadn’t been for Xavier’s assistance, we wouldn’t be here.

  “He has been made aware.” Frederick stared hard at the ground. “I send him messages almost daily. If he does not arrive in a few days, I will be headed to Auklia myself to retrieve the three of them if necessary.”

  “Hmm,” I grunted absentmindedly. Sounded like we just needed to go get them today, but Frederick still trumped me on the totem pole of discussion making.

  I took my bow and leaned it against my punctured dragon tree, noticing that the sun was nearing the new western horizon. Now that Mineraltir was taken by the Darkness, the sun set a good three hours earlier than it used to, which was really throwing me off. As a farmer, I lived by the sun. It was my constant companion as I worked through the fields, and I only had to take note of the shadows on the ground to figure out what time it was or what part of the season it was. It kept me on my toes then, and now, whenever it abruptly set beyond the curtain of Darkness to the west, it made my very body shudder. It was just plain wrong.

  Now that the Great Desert was being swallowed up, more of the sky was becoming incrementally black. It made me wonder how much longer King Adam was going to be able to convince the people of Lunaka that it was simply a forest fire. After all, that had happened weeks ago, and there were no trees in the Great Desert.

  Sam walked over to me and lightly brushed my arm, his thick woolen gloves catching at the tiny snags on my warmest cloak. His cheeks were red, stung by the icy air. “You did really well today. I think you’ve finally figured out how to sense my moves before they come?”

  I laughed and rolled my eyes as I pulled my hood over my head. “Yes, good grief. That took me forever to figure out! It was really hard, but now I can finally feel when you’re about to do something with your magic. Although, I figured out a much easier way to do it now that doesn’t require magic at all!”

  “Oh really?” Sam looked skeptical. “And what is that?”

  “Every time you’re getting ready to use magic, you squint your eyes and raise one of your eyebrows.” I tried to keep myself from giggling.

  Sam’s eyes widened in surprise, but before he could get any words out, he tried doing magic slowly to see if he really did it. After squinting his eyes and quirking his eyebrow, he looked at me warily. “No, I don’t!”

  I eyed him slyly and crossed my arms, “Ask anybody else in this camp, and they’ll say the exact same thing. I promise.” I winked at him.

  Sam pouted slightly and then offered me his arm. We began to walk the short distance back to my tent. He decided to change the subject as he saw me fingering the feather charm around my neck absent-mindedly. He cleared his throat. “So… Uh, can you believe it’s already time for the Winter Ball again?”

  The ground reached up and handcuffed my ankles. There was no way. I looked up at Sam in shock. “It’s today?”

  The grin fell off of Sam’s face. “Yeah, I thought you knew that. What’s wrong?”

  Something like a river crashed into me, an entire wave of memories and feelings. It was time for the Winter Ball. This time last year, Rosetta and I had been huddled around our little tiny lantern as we journeyed to town. It had two slightly dented copper bells on it. I’d saved money all year so that we could have bells for it. Those bells were still at our house somewhere, if they hadn’t been stolen, yet there was no one to use them this year.

  Every year there was a Winter Ball at the castle and what we called the farmer version in town. My parents used to take Rosetta and I to the one in town, and I can remember it from my earliest memories because of all the gorgeous decorations. I had been looking forward to taking Keera to it for the first time this year…

  “Lina?” Sam stopped. Both his hands were on mine now as he stared at me.

  I swallowed back the coming tears as best as I could, my voice coming out slightly distorted. “It’s nothing. I just can’t believe nearly a year has gone by. It was less than a season after the last Winter Ball that I figured out I was an Allyen. It feels more like a hundred years with how many things have happened.”

  “I know.” Sam said quietly. “Remember them, Lina, but don’t dwell on them. I know it’s hard, but dwell on the happy things.” He squeezed my hand tightly.

  I tried my hardest to start coming up with good things that had happened this year, but to my dismay, it never quite worked. My nightmarish memories could never be forgotten, seemingly intertwined with the good memories for eternity. I got to bring Keera home with me. She was killed by Rhydin. I became friends with Frederick and Mira. I lost Grandma and Rosetta. I was finally with Sam and excited for our future. I lost my parents’ farm. I became an Allyen. I became an Allyen… I sighed and gave him a small smile. “If you say so.”

  Sam’s expression quickly changed from one of concern to one I hadn’t seen on his face since we were children. His brown eyes lightened, and his lips drew back into that lopsided grin I loved. Excitement was almost dripping from his body.

  “What?” I asked, beginning to fear for his sanity.

  “We’re going to the ball.”

  “Wha-…?”

  “Just hear me out!” One of Sam’s giant hands clapped over my mouth. “We need a break from all this seriousness, and I would like to t
ake you. After all, I never did get that dance back in the spring.” He smiled, looking at me warmly.

  “But there’ll be people everywhere! Everyone knows that I’m the Allyen, and you’re the Kidek. There’s no way we can go and not be recognized!” I shrieked, my voice becoming higher with every syllable.

  “You got that right.”

  My hair suddenly stood on end as Sam and I turned to see Rachel, solidly in the middle of our path with her hands on her hips. I began to feel like a guilty child because I actually really wanted to go. I just knew it was impossible. My voice was quiet. “Rachel, I-…!”

  Sam stepped forward. “Rachel, we’re twenty-one and twenty years old, I think we can make our own decisions! It’s a masquerade ball this year, so no one will recognize our faces, and these feathers that you gave us hide our presences, don’t they?”

  Rachel eyed Sam with her blue daggers before suddenly seeming off guard for a second. She tried to look angry, and then sighed the deepest sigh I had heard in a long time. “Well, if you’re going, then you can’t go like that!”

  “Huh?” I merely blinked at her, my mind unable to process her words.

  The redhead walked forward and waved her hands in Sam’s direction. “Shoo boy, I have work to do.”

  Sam smiled so much it seemed like his face might crack, but he did as he was told and hustled away toward the campfire. Rachel turned to me with her chin in the crook of her finger, silently judging me from my head to my toes. She reached forward and grabbed my hand. “I’m going to need help.”

  A couple hours later, when the sun had fully sunk and set the night sky in its rotation above, I stood in front of Rachel and Princess Mira feeling like a doll. I had never been much of a girly person, and right now, my skin felt foreign to me. I immediately objected to the dress that they used, seeing as we were just going to the little ball in town, but Mira then informed me that it had been cancelled a few days ago.

  Apparently, people were no longer interested in heading out of doors with their growing speculation that the Darkness wasn’t a forest fire but, instead, something deep, dark, and magical that truly was a threat. This meant that not only were we going out in public, but we were headed to the castle of all places. My anxiety skyrocketed, yet Rachel and Mira endeavored to convince me that it would be okay with all the masks and feathers.

  Rachel used her immaculate sewing skills to size down one of Mira’s nicer frocks that Frederick had fetched for her from the castle. Mira was taller than me by six or so inches and built like a willow tree. I, on the other hand, was not only short but “petite and well-built at the same time” as they called it. I’d always known I was small, but the second attribute was a new one. Must be from all the sword practices.

  The dress was a cream color with a long flowing design and the tiniest of seed pearls embedded in the bodice. I was sure that while it was one of Mira’s more common dresses, it was the richest thing I could ever hope to wear. Rachel also took the time to crisscross my head with mud-colored braids. Mira insisted on naming my hair color “brunette”, but to me, it was the color of mud and always would be.

  Before I knew it, I actually felt like a girl for the first time in a long time. A girl who was newly twenty and who was expected to marry soon or would be considered an old maid as far as Lunakan customs were concerned. To complete the costume was a matching mask that Rachel created from leftover fabric. The only article on my body that didn’t change was my beautiful amethyst feather charm, still hiding my presence from Rhydin every minute of every day. My anxiety and excitement began to parallel as each escalated.

  Mira clasped her hands together, her grief beginning to disappear for the first time. “This is so exciting!”

  I smiled hesitantly, feeling as if I was on display. I didn’t like it. “I just hope this isn’t a big mistake.”

  Behind Mira, Rachel was handling my sword and a scarlet sash before a bright light flashed. The sword dove into the simple fabric. No rip or hole appeared, but there was no sword anymore either.

  Rachel turned to me and tied it tightly around my waist. “This is for you, to protect you. Just take the sash off, ball it into your hand, and your sword will spring forth with a little bit of magic. Trouble or no trouble, my brothers and I will be watching. As always.” She smiled her beautiful motherly smile, her freckles squeezing together as she handed me my locket to stuff into my corset. She had exasperated me for years with her hints that Sam and I were destined to be together. This truly was a holiday for her.

  “How do I look?”

  I turned to the source of Sam’s voice and felt my cheeks grow hot. There, standing before me, was my beau, yet I could barely believe it was him. Instead of the Sam I was accustomed to, who wore old clothes that were the victims of the farmer’s curse of never coming clean with his blue, purple, and gold bandana, I saw a handsome man in trimmings that looked more like they had once belonged to Prince Frederick. Sam was taller than Frederick, so I assumed Rachel’s skills had gotten a thorough workout tonight. He held a plain black mask in his fidgety hands. Sam’s eyes were warm, and his reddish-brown head looked bare without its normal covering. I bit my lip. I couldn’t keep the smile off of my face. I joked, “You look like a Royal, Mr. Greene.”

  Sam grinned, his brown eyes dancing as he looked me up and down. “As do you, Miss Harvey.”

  And suddenly, it was as if nothing had ever changed. I never became an Allyen. Rhydin never existed. We had reverted to our old joke from when we were kids, addressing each other that way.

  My anxiety abruptly vanished as I donned my mask, and Sam kneeled and kissed my hand as if we really were Royals. I pulled on Mira’s violet cloak, and Rachel took my hand. Luke and James appeared out of the shadows to take Sam’s arms as well, and, after double-checking that Sam had his orange feather, there was a flash of blinding light.

  We were dropped off toward the farther edge of the canyon, up on the plains already, so the magic wouldn’t get any attention. Rachel, Luke, and James made themselves scarce even though I was sure that they weren’t more than a mile away, their eyes firmly on the two of us. Snow was beginning to fall lightly, its crystalline flakes gently swaying to the ground. It truly felt like the two of us were alone in the longest time.

  Sam grinned, looking down at me as he clasped my hand tightly. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes!” I couldn’t keep myself from beaming. I tugged on his pretty collar to coax his head down a foot to where I could kiss him, and then we were on our way to the castle!

  As we grew closer to where the pulley systems lifted people up out of the canyon, the booths began to appear. Normally, they were down in the square where the common people’s ball was, but they must have moved them up to the plains this year to get the nobles and other people traveling to the Winter Ball.

  The stalls were well decorated with silver and gold with stars shining amongst the garlands. The color blue was everywhere. All the stands were painted a beautiful navy, as were many of the things for sale. Little Winter Ball trinkets that the peddlers usually made half their yearly salary on and some Lunakan delicacies made up their wares, such as five grain bread, buttered chicken, and coal cake. It was named for the chocolate powder decoration, not actual coal, I promise.

  I looked over my shoulder to the canyon and could barely see the town below. It was completely empty. No one was straying from their homes after dark tonight. I shuddered. It was so joltingly opposite of the norm for this night. Around me, more and more nobles joined our little migration to the castle or broke off to purchase something from the booths. The notion that something was off this night was tangible.

  While the children were happy and merry, the adults were having a hard time covering their fear with masks of gaiety. Some scolded their children a little too harshly. Some spoke a little too tersely to one of the booth people. Some continued to look over their shoulders to the southwest where the dark curtain was ever growing. King Adam’s lie wasn’t going to wor
k much longer.

  Sam seemed to notice the same thing but only shrugged his shoulders at me as he grabbed a pole with a big globe lantern on it. These were a tradition at every Winter Ball, both at the castle and down in the square. It symbolized everyone coming together in the dark, led by the lights, to celebrate the holiday together. Last year, I had carried it as we trekked from our house to town with Rosetta and Grandma flanking me.

  I struck up a random conversation with Sam to fill the time as we walked to the castle, crunching through the falling snow. It ranged from farming to various memories that we had from our childhood, including the one time I had thrown a wadded-up paper ball at his head in school because he fell asleep and was an easy target. My feet quickly became soaked through the little flat shoes that Rachel made for me, and I wondered how Mira managed to wear these all the time. They really were not functional whatsoever. I missed my boots.

  As we entered the towering castle gates, Sam and I made sure to remain within the flow people and not break apart. A huge tapestry of Prince Xavier and Princess Mira welcomed us into the courtyard, surrounded by candles, and I remembered how this event was supposed to memorialize them. I still thought it was ridiculous, but that feeling was forgotten when we entered the ballroom.

  Queen Gloria’s decorations blew the town’s decorations out of this century. It was like comparing an intricate, porcelain doll with a detailed, painted face to the corn husk dolls that Papa would make Rosetta and I every year during harvest. It was always his way of making up for that time of year where we barely saw him because he was up before and after the sun with no breaks.

  Instead of simple paper streamers hanging from lampposts, there were huge, silken drapes that gave every marble pillar a deep navy or sparkling silver outfit. There were massive collections of pine boughs speckled with silver paint for the centerpiece of every table. The delicate lace tablecloths could have been mistaken for snowflakes. Gigantic gold and silver stars were hung around the very top of the room.