Everlasting Kingdom

by Stephany Wallace

  “Dark magic.” Father’s words were weighted by pain. “Ambition is a good thing to have in life, but we must be careful not to let it become our most important possession. Laeroth wanted power, he wanted abilities beyond his strength, and dark magic offered that to him. In his search for dominance, he went to the Sarhurath Daeossa Wyn—Cursed Mountains of Shadows.”

  “The Duergar,” my brothers and I whispered in unison, perturbed by the notion.

  They were malicious Dwarves who lived in the Cursed Mountains of Shadows—located in the Winter Court, but on the other end of our lands. The mountains had been named as such, because they were pitch black and void of natural life, except for the dwarves who had taken residence within them, after being excommunicated from their kingdom for using black magic. Necromancy. They reveled in tricking people into dying and the suffering of others.

  Father nodded once more, visibly disturbed by the memory. “That is how the Dark King was born.”

  “Wait,” I interrupted, calling their attention to me. “You said is, not was. Laeroth is your mother’s fated.” I quoted him.

  Avra tensed, visibly overcome with torment. “I never broke their bond.”

  “What?!” We all hissed at once.

  Avra shook his head, seeming defeated. “It was the only way to keep your mother safe while she was with him. It may be hard to believe, but Laeroth loves your mother. In fact, he is obsessed with her. Feeling that link between them is the one thing that has kept him from fully turning into the monster I know he will be. It was the only way to ensure he wouldn’t hurt your mother once she returned to him, after being with me. Which brings me to your other question, son.”

  He faced me fully, but waited a moment, as though he expected my brothers to have any other objections, but they—as well as I—were speechless.

  “After your grandparents were defeated and Laeroth took the castle, we knew there was only one way we would ever be able to save the realm from him, and that meant being apart. The Dark King had made alliances that gave him a lot of power, and we knew if we were ever to rebuild Kalithdor—after Laeroth nearly destroyed it in his quest for power—sacrifices would have to be made. We would need to build alliances of our own, so your mother returned to him, and I gave up everything in return.”

  His hands fisted and the shaking of his body became visible to everyone else, but it wasn’t weakness or hatred coursing through him at that moment. It was pain.

  “A vow was made to our Goddess long before I was born, one that I assumed as well, and that I will make sure continues even after I’m gone. So I did what had to be done. After what you know as the Dragon Cataclysm was over, I was the last of our race to remain. My brothers, everyone I cared about, stood behind me and gave their lives protecting this realm from evil. Yet, I was the only one left.”

  A tear spilled from his eyes as they bore into mine and my throat fiercely constricted. I couldn’t imagine how daunting it must be to know that you had failed your vow, and that you were all that remained. His emotion welled in my eyes, spilling from them, like it did my brothers’.

  “After the war, I protected the temple—our legacy—as best I could.” He extended his hands, motioning to the mountain that surrounded us. “Nevertheless, it didn’t matter that I was the most powerful of my kind, because I was the only one left.”

  He paused for a moment to regain his composure, and Kyr, Ash, and I exchanged a glance, they wiped off tears while my chest severely constricted. My eyes stung.

  “I set out to do everything I could, moving pieces into place that would one day allow us to take back the kingdom, and free the realm from the Dark King’s heartless ruling.”

  Father stood and walked towards one of the large windows. His trembling hand settled on the frame. “Every life lost at his hands has left a tear in me. I have felt every pain he has caused the people I swore to protect.” He turned to face us. “Zeph is dead.” Our sharp intake of breath reverberated through the room. “Laeroth killed him and his entire family, after Zeph informed him that his bond to Avrielle had been broken, and that he could now feel his fated was another woman.”

  “This is my fault.” Kyr’s words were strained, and I realized then he was standing, fists shaking as they clenched and unclenched.

  Ash and I stood too, stepping closer. “No, it isn’t.” Ash contested. “You heard Father, when a bond is broken, the mate doesn’t suffer, he simply feels the connection to another woman and makes her his fated. You can’t blame yourself for Laeroth’s actions. You didn’t make him kill Zeph or his family.”

  “He’s right.” I concurred, placing a reassuring hand on Kyr’s shoulder. He nodded, but the muscles of his jaw still strained under the pressure.

  “Your brothers are right. Never blame yourself for Laeroth’s actions. His decisions are his and no one else’s. But his reign of terror ends now. The sacrifices your mother and I made brought us to this moment.”

  He walked towards us, and cupped Kyr’s and my cheek, looking into our eyes.

  “She risked her life, sneaking out of the castle and coming to see me, so that one day the three of you, our sons, would be here. I placed illusions in Laeroth’s mind, so he believed with his entire being that he had been with her, and that you were his sons. Even with all of my power, even guarding her to the best of my ability, I still wasn’t there, I couldn’t prevent him from forcing himself on her.”

  For the first time since I had known Avra, I saw hatred in his eyes, but he quenched it quickly. It had been so brief, I doubted my brothers even noticed, yet I saw it clearly. And after his words, I shared that hatred… I wasn’t the only one.

  “I’m going to kill that bastard!” Ash roared, and our father’s hands went to his shoulders. I expected him to calm Ash down, or give us a forgiveness speech.

  “No. We will kill him together. The only way to bring peace back to this realm is to rid it of his presence. There is no redemption for Laeroth, not after everything he has done.”

  “We will end him,” Kyr vowed. “He will pay for what he has done, and for forcing our mother to be with him.” Ash and I nodded, sharing his pain at the realization.

  Father let out a ragged breath. “He only touched her that way once, but it was once too many. It is the reason I did what I had to protect her.”

  “What did you do?” I whispered.

  He looked at us with traces of shame in his eyes. “When the Summer Queen’s Sorcerer attacked your mother, I saw an opportunity to protect her even more from him, and I took it. It nearly killed me to allow the spell to hit your mother, yet I knew her immortality would keep her safe. Nevertheless, that didn’t prevent the curse from taking effect in her, even if only briefly. The poison settled inside her for two days, yet before it could leave her body, I had the Bloodcroix Witch put a sleeping spell on your mother.”

  Our eyes widened as shock rushed through our bodies.

  “If Laeroth believed your mother was cursed, and forced into the sleep by the pain she was experiencing, he wouldn’t touch her ever again. Like I mentioned before, the fact that he still feels that bond to her prevents him from hurting her, that is the reason why he guarded her so fiercely, and had a team of healers with her at all times. The ‘curse’ wouldn’t allow him to be with her intimately, and because she wouldn’t be able to sneak out of the castle anymore to see me, the moments while she slept were the only times in which we could still be together. Even if it were only in our minds.”

  “So, her pain was never real?” Kyr questioned, both appalled and hurt by the lie.

  Father’s eyes shone with agony as they connected with my brother’s. “Oh, it was real, son. But it wasn’t caused by the ‘curse,’ it ensued from our separation. When your mother opened up to me—the first time we were together—her essence became tethered to mine. I claimed her as my mate in the eyes of the Goddess, and even though her bond to Laeroth is still there, it’s frail. Ours is much stronger. She is mine, and as such the separation
hurt us both, weakening us and straining our essence in the process.”

  “But you have been apart for over eight thousand years?” Ash whispered, shaken by the realization. “How are the two of you even alive?”

  “I am the Dragon Lord.” Avra’s words were simple, but filled with so much truth and meaning, they shook us to our core.

  Everything clicked in my mind then. He wasn’t a mere Fae; he was Drayvok. That fact within itself clearly explained why he hadn’t been affected like a normal man would, but he wasn’t just Drayvok. Our Father was the Dragon Lord.

  “Your dragon form is most resilient, that is why you only appeared to us as a man now. Aside from trying to safeguard your secret, of course.” I stated the fact, guiding my glasses back in place. He nodded.

  “Yes. Now that your mother and I are back by each other’s side, I have begun to heal as she has, yet I’m afraid after exerting myself the way I have during all of these years, I shall never be the same.”

  “This mountain, at least the part where the temple resides, is an illusion.” I was still taken aback by my discoveries. “That is how you protected it after the war. You used your power to create a physical illusion, extending the mountain so that no one would know the Holy Temple had survived the war. That you were still here… alive.” Amazement at the extent of his power, and pain for what he had been through both battled inside me. I swallowed as my throat tightened.

  “Yes,” Father confirmed with a ragged breath. “Which is why I will not be able to fight with you in the upcoming war against the evil that has consumed this realm. I will train you to the best of my ability, to be Drayvok, powerful and mighty as you were born to be. Regrettably, I have already failed you otherwise, for I cannot stand with you, I will however, stand behind you. You were raised as the Princes of the Winter Court. Sons of Queen Serene, and as such, the people that have met you during your lives, will believe in you. They’ve seen what you are capable of as men, and once they learn you have stood up to the Dark King, defeated him, they will follow you blindly. I am sure of that.”

  Avra caressed our cheeks individually, looking intently into each of our eyes. “You are not alone in this fight, you never have been. Not only do you have me and your mother supporting you, but you have each other. You, my sons, possess the Borossa Nayda Tynhur Etha—the Bond of Three.”

  My mind and heart raced with the information I had received, and the possibilities within Avra’s words. Still, a part of me couldn’t help but be concerned about Father’s wellbeing. He had fought for so long all on his own—as the last of his kind—to protect our mother, the Holy Temple, the realm, in any way he could, and even us. No matter how powerful a being was, magic had limitations… and it always required a price.

  Knowing what I did now, I wondered if the price Father had paid so we could one day free the realm, and bring peace to its people again, had been much too great. As though in response to my thoughts, a tremor shook his hand and he dropped it from my cheek. He avoided my gaze while he clasped his wrist behind him, his fist clenched and unclenched as though trying to regain control.

  “There is no time to waste.” Father announced, looking at me once again, this time his gaze filled with determination. “Your training must begin at once. Nyx, help me guide your brothers to the Estadae Evanay.”

  “So what exactly is this Bond of Three you keep mentioning?” I asked, as we arrived at the gate with the dragon symbol I had previously discovered.

  Father sighed as though weighing his words. “There is much for you to learn about our kind, but that is not something you will learn today.” His words rang with finality and my gaze connected with my brothers’. It was clear there was no room for discussion there.

  Avra pushed the doors open, as far as they would go, revealing the hidden world behind them. The sounds of my brothers’ shock reverberated around us, and just as the first time, unadulterated amazement filled me. Father smiled then, motioning us forwards and we entered by his side. This time however, the rolling hills, lakes, and sea were painted with the hues of oranges, light blues and yellows as the sun rose over the horizon, making it look even more marvelous.

  “This is impossible…” Kyr whispered, using the same words I had previously shared at the sight of this paradise. He attempted to take everything in.

  Father gazed at me and smiled. “Nothing is impossible for our Goddess.”

  Excitement rushed through me, and before I realized what I was doing, my shoes were off and my bare feet were touching the soft, wet grass underneath. I laughed out loud, seeing the same reaction in my brothers as they too stood barefoot. A feeling I had never experienced before overwhelmed my being. Happiness. I was truly, and inexplicably happy, simply by being here. The warm breeze fanned our skins and a tingling quickly spread over my body. It was as though this place was calling me to it, begging me to give myself to its magic.

  My eyes fell on my father as he hurriedly undressed beside us. The second his clothes hit the floor, the pulsing scales—I now expected on his skin—accelerated. Rushing over his body, they shimmered and expanded along every inch until they covered his full form. The next second Kyr, Ash and I were staggering back as the dragon took over Father’s body.

  We fell on our behinds while we regarded the majestic frost white dragon, with a stroke of cobalt blue along his back and tail. Father laughed at our expressions and the strange rumbling cackles echoed in the wind. The sight of him both humbled me and filled me with pride. That was my father. His body curved as it stretched, wings unfolding, and with a blink he took off, flying. My brothers laughed, jumping to their feet and began running after him. I stumbled up and ran with them, looking at our father as he swerved and twirled in the sky, gaining altitude, just the way I did when I flew.

  My heart slammed against my chest as I ripped the vest and shirt off my back and jumped, ready for my wings to appear so I could fly with him, but something held me to the ground. I came crashing down, falling once again on my behind. My head whirled around as lighthearted laughter reached me. A woman stood a few steps back, her red stained lips stretched in an amused smile as I scowled at her, then my breathing faltered. I had seen those crimson eyes before, the silverish white hair, the tribal markings, and the staff with the pulsing red crystal at the top.

  The Bloodcroix Witch.

  I had never met her in person, but I had read about her, seen depictions of her in the scrolls our Royal Archives held. I stood as the tingling intensified over my skin, becoming almost painful.

  “Not so fast, young prince.” She walked towards me, staff in hand. Kyr and Ash returned to my side and stood beside me.

  “Bloodcroix Witch, what are you doing here?” Kyr asked with familiarity.

  “I never thought I’d see you again,” Ash added, stepping closer. “I have no words to thank you for opening the portal for me again.”

  The Witch’s eyes sparkled. “You made a strong case. Who was I to deny you?” She shrugged nonchalantly, but there was meaning behind her words.

  Ash suddenly pulled her to him and embraced her, squeezing her. The woman’s eyes widened and she tensed, surely caught off guard by my brother’s gesture.

  “Alright. You are wrinkling my cloak,” she sternly protested, but winked at me.

  I frowned, taken aback by the action. Ash stepped away, smirking, and she waved at us with her staff to follow her, walking towards the gates. At the same time, I noticed our father flying back around. My brothers and I exchanged a glance, still shocked by her presence here, but did as she asked. I watched, perplexed, as the carved gates stood isolated in the middle of this paradise, as though there wasn’t a temple on the other side. This place seemed infinite.

  By the time we reached them, Father was walking beside us, once again a man. Reaching for his trousers on the grass, he covered himself, then took the last few steps to the woman. “Selenia, thank you for coming.”

  “My lord,” she responded, lowering her head to kneel before h
im, but Father stopped her attempt by gently holding her arm. He hugged her instead. “I’ve waited so long for this day,” she whispered.

  “I know. So have I.”

  My gaze connected with Kyr and Ash’s once more, but we remained silent during the exchange.

  “Do you have what we need?” Avra asked, becoming serious.

  “Most I’ve brought. The rest is already here.” Her eyes briefly roamed over Ash and I, then she smiled.

  I frowned. What had she meant by that?

  “Very well, let us begin.” Father instructed. I tensed.

  The Witch reached for the cords that tied her cloak together on her neck and pulled. Her hands shifted as she removed the cloak from her body and twirled it in the air, letting it fall. The fabric ruffled, then stopped midair, as though it had been set upon a table, its surface solid.

  “I love when you do that,” Avra praised, enthralled by her magic.

  The woman chuckled. “It’s nothing but a parlor trick.” She glanced at us. “I learned to do that right after my power manifested, Mystokinesis or Magic Manipulation, if you will. I was barely a child—the youngest to ever manifest this ability.”

  Her lips twitched as I stared at her, amazed. She reached for a leather sack I hadn’t noticed sitting next to her feet, and placed it over the makeshift tabletop. My breathing suddenly stopped as something else called my attention. I glanced at my brothers, but they were too engrossed with what she was doing to notice what I had. The gown she wore left her arms and better part of her upper back open to my eyes, the gruesome scars that marred her otherwise flawless skin becoming fully visible.

  My chest constricted, and without realizing it I moved towards her. “Are you all right?” I whispered, looking at the deep mark on her shoulder. It was as though a part of it had been ripped away.

  “You can see them?” she whispered, shocked, and I nodded. Her gaze shifted to the others, who were still looking at the few jars she had placed on the cloak, but they seemed oblivious to the ragged wounds that covered her body. When her eyes returned to mine, they were filled with an emotion I couldn’t describe. “I am well now, thank you for asking.”