by K.N. Lee
A fire for revenge.
“We’ll have our day against that foul creature who took him from us,” Lilae vowed, as she thumbed the hilt of the sword at her waist. She let Dragnor slip from her grasp once before.
Never again.
“What is that over there?” Liam asked, pointing to the only structure that stood out between them and the city. It stood tall, with black and gray walls and shining siding that glinted in the sunlight.
Delia released a sigh. “That is the Shadow Tower. Before we even dare enter the city, the Eura talisman must be awakened.”
“Kavien has been searching for it for years,” Lilae said. “He seemed to think Ayaden had it when he came to Avia’Torena.”
“And, if we don’t awaken it first, all will be lost,” Delia said. Everyone watched as she pulled something from the purse hooked to her belt. “This was silenced by the Elders when the realms were split by the barrier. Unlike the other talisman’s it is the most powerful, and was therefore put to sleep until the time of the Chosen arose.”
Lilae’s heart soared as she looked upon the necklace her mother had given to her the night she was born.
Delia placed it in her hands and closed them over it. “This is yours,” she said. “You will be able to enter the Shadow Tower with it, and there, you will find Ocura Maga, who will awaken it with her great power.”
Her breath caught in her throat, but she nodded despite the overwhelming joy she felt for having it returned to her.
“Who is Ocura Maga?” Lilae asked, smoothing the talisman with her thumb.
“An elf of great power.”
“Elf?” Liam repeated, lifting a brow. “What kind?”
Delia glanced at him, and then to the sky. “One not from this world.”
Everyone fell silent then. In Ellowen, they knew of only the Silver Elves and the Shadow Elves, but after coming face-to-face with the Goddess of Law, it was apparent that there were other beings out there, somewhere.
Other worlds.
5
A shiver ran along Lilae’s spin as she imagined the other worlds that were outside of her own. She was still vexed by the races and realms surrounding her that the prospect of other beings cast an eerie sensation upon her.
She looked to those assembled on that mountain top, and the vast forest between them and the city in the horizon. To see other worlds would be a grand adventure. But, the demands of this world would take precedence before all else.
Delia looked to the sky, and rubbed her thin hands together. “Let’s get some rest. Tomorrow, we head to Leedun, where we can gather supplies and prepare for the journey to the Shadow Tower. Shouldn’t take more than a few days.”
“On we go, then,” Rowe said, leading the way along the Silver River toward the Shadow Tower. “It won’t be long before the sun sets, and I’d rather not be caught in the dark without a fire.”
“Right,” Liam said. “Let’s find a place and set up camp.”
They followed Rowe lead the way down the path that led into the thickness of the forest. He’d been quiet since the day Litha, the Goddess of War, tried to kill him. Nani had saved his life, and now all of the rules that kept the balance were obsolete. Lilae wasn’t quite sure what that meant for them. All she knew was that Wexcyn’s powers would now be limitless.
As they searched for a suitable camping spot, the sun began to set and the air grew even colder.
Lilae looked to the darkening sky and thought what life had taught her—all she’d been through. At one point in her life, she was certain everything was lost.
She was stronger for it.
Now, it was time to make a stand, time to fight.
“Lilae,” Delia said quietly as she walked beside her. “I need to tell you something.”
Lilae nodded for her to go on. After so many secrets being kept from her her entire life, she was eager to have more and more revealed as time went on.
“When I came here nineteen years ago, I had a mission: save The Flame, train her, and make her into the warrior the humans needed,” Delia said.
Lilae watched her as she narrowed her eyes and inhaled.
“I took you from your mother. I gave her no choice in the matter, but I do not regret it. Though I caused your family a great deal of pain, it was necessary. But, Lilae. I knew from the moment I saw Pirin that he was your real father. That is why I brought him along. To train you and to love you.”
Fresh tears came to Lilae’s eyes as she nodded. “I know, Delia. I don’t hold it against you in any way. I thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”
“But, when we arrive. Things might not be as easy as we’d like. In order to garner favor in the Black Court, you must keep it a secret. As far as any of them know, King Torek was your father, and you are a descendant of his line.”
Lilae’s eyes widened. “I see.”
“Otherwise, you are a bastard, your mother is a traitor, and you both could be in danger. Can you do that, Lilae? To protect your mother and our cause?”
She knew who her real father was, and he’d served the king and her true mother as their captain of the guards. It would be odd to return to a place she’d never known or seen, and try to convince them she was of royal blood. Her mother was a queen, but her bastard daughter had no claim to the throne or anything the title of princess entailed.
Royalty was never a dream of Lilae’s, but meeting her mother was all she ever yearned for.
Nodding, Lilae looked to Risa and Jaiza. She’d have to tell them as well, something she didn’t look forward to.
“Good,” Delia said, and gave Lilae a saddened smile. “I know it will be hard. But, we have to look to the greater good. We have to prepare the humans for the evil that is coming.”
“We do,” Lilae said, squaring her shoulders.
Raising her hand, she ignited a burst of fire that morphed into a solid ball of light that she then blew into the air, lighting their way. It warmed her face as a beaming smile came to her lips.
Finally, she embraced her destiny and all that came along with it.
“I’m ready.”
6
Aria held onto Yoska’s waist as they flew over the white forests of Alfheim. He had called an old friend to transport them away from Oren.
Broken-hearted by the betrayal of her people, Aria barely spoke a word the entire journey. Silent tears had fallen and frozen on her cheeks as they approached Yoska’s homeland of Dunhaven.
Junni, the giant gray-haired bat had carried them for miles through the darkness, without as much as a break, and Aria had held tight to Yoska’s hard abdomen, clinging to him like a lost child.
Every memory of Oren twisted her stomach into knots and she hoped that Prince Liam was safe—that he would not return to the kingdom of pestilence and plague.
Still covered in blood and the stench of the fog that had smothered her kingdom, she no longer cared about anything but survival. Cyden was right. She should have listened and abandoned her duty as queen long ago.
Now, she was the queen of nothing. A nomad. A vagabond.
It was fitting that Dunhaven was their destination. Perhaps there would be some measure of solace and sanctuary with the Silver Elves.
Her throat tightened with worry as they made their descent to the ice-covered forest below. No matter what hopes she had for this place, the fact remained that the Silver Elves were mortal enemies to Tryans.
They might finish the execution her people had begun.
The trees were white and as tall as any she’d ever seen. The branches were covered in sparkling frost that reflected the light of the sun. The Silver River was frozen beneath them and she could see the shadows of the river nymphs swimming underneath the frozen surface.
As they landed, the crunch of snow and ice under Junni’s clawed feet filled the silent forest. Yoska leaped from its back and reached a hand out to her.
His silver eyes searched her face, his white brows creasing with worry.
; “Come,” he said. “You must get warm. Your cheeks are nearly frozen and you’ve nearly lost all of your glow.”
She glanced at him, her heart full with sorrow, and nodded.
Yoska stood tall, dressed in a stranger’s pants, tunic, and hooded cloak they’d found hanging in the Orenian countryside.
She now wore a simple pair of men’s trousers, wool shirt, and heavy black cloak lined with rabbit pelts. It wasn’t the fine clothes she’d grown used to, but it did better than her soiled nightgown at keeping the cold at bay.
“I know of a woman who may provide us refuge” Yoska said as he helped her down to the ground.
“Who is she? Are we not welcome in the city?” Aria asked, crossing her arms over her chest as a violent shudder rippled up her spine.
He turned away, leading her through the trees. “My mother,” he said.
She followed behind, quickening her step at the surprising revelation. She had not thought to meet one of Yoska’s relations. She began to wonder just how old he was, and remembered that Silver Elves had long lives—much longer than most of the other races except for their distant kin, the Shadow Elves.
“You did not tell me you had a mother,” she said.
He glanced over his shoulder, a brow lifted. “Doesn’t everyone?”
She pursed her lips. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know,” he said. “You simply meant that you never thought to ask about my past or my family.”
“You were an eagle.”
“I was. Even eagles have mothers, Aria.”
Sighing, she kept up the best she could. The boots she wore were too big, and flopped off her ankles with each step into the deep snow.
There was so much that she didn’t know. Aria still couldn’t believe that Yoska had been a Silver Elf after all of those years he’d been in her family’s service. Then she realized that there was much that she didn’t know or understand.
The snow began to grow deeper, so much so that she found herself trudging through, her pant legs getting soaked more every minute. Before long, a wooden fence came into the distance.
It stretched far, and wide, and as they drew closer, a large house emerged in the face of a frosted hill of dirt, moss, and gray stone. Windows of glass stood out against the mound, reflecting the sun’s light back at them.
They stood at the gate.
“This—,” she began, eyes widening with wonder. A frigid wind swept in, blowing her dark hair into her face. “This is your home?”
He gave a single nod, his gaze fixed on the wooden door. “It was.”
Just inside the gate of the fence were flower beds where odd fruits and vegetables Aria had never seen grew. Stones composed a walkway that led from the gate to the front door, and as they entered the fence, she kept close and followed him through the garden.
Her heart began to thud in her chest as she looked to the chimney. Smoke wafted from its opening and into the sky.
Someone was home.
Coming face to face with another elf did not bring her comfort, but her trust in Yoska was stronger than any emotion that tried to brew within. He’d saved her life.
He did not bring her to his home to see any harm done to her.
As they approached the door, a horn blowed and to their left and right, giant snow wolves raced from behind the house, teeth bared, growls booming in her ears.
She clutched Yoska’s arm.
Perhaps she had come here to die.
7
The wolves raced toward them, barking and growling. Aria’s heart thundered in her chest as loudly as the sound of the wolves and their fury.
Yoska stepped before her, holding an arm to shield her from the vicious creatures.
She stilled herself, focusing on gathering energy from the air around them, and drew a dagger she had strapped to her calf.
Her inner glow—though faint—seeped into the hilt and illuminated the blade.
“No, Aria,” Yoska said, and to her surprise, the wolves tackled him.
They sent him flying backward to the ground, licking and playing with him.
Yoska laughed up at them, roughly tossing them back and patting their heads.
“They remember me,” he said. “Patience, Chastity, Harmony, and Rebel.”
Mouth agape, Aria’s hands fell to her sides as he came to his feet and hugged one of the wolves around the neck.
“Don’t worry,” he said—but not to Aria. He spoke to the wolves. “She’s not so bad. I wouldn’t fear her one bit.”
Her eyes widened. “Is that so? Not so bad?”
The door to the cottage swung open, and they both shot a glance to the woman who stood there, in a white robe, her long silver hair lifting from her shoulders as a wind blew from behind her.
Silence seemed to fill the garden as her steely gaze scanned the area, her nose lifted as if to sniff the air. Around her neck were glowing charms, and tattoos of a language Aria hadn’t seen since her studies as a child were etched on her forehead in a straight line.
The scent of rain and the river followed her as she began down the stairs, her silver eyes fixed on Yoska’s face.
He stood there, as if frozen, his cheeks paling more than they already were. Then, he went to his knees and bowed his head.
Aided by a wooden walking stick with a smooth crystal set atop, she came to him, stroked his hair, and ran her hands across his face. It was then that Aria realized that she was blind.
Blind, and more beautiful than any creature she’d ever seen. Her pointed ears stuck through from her bone-straight hair, and her rosy-red lips pursed as she examined Yoska.
“Mother,” he said, his voice cracking with that one powerful word.
“Rise, my son.”
He came to his feet and a smile came to her face. “I knew you’d find your way home.”
Sparkling tears trailed down her cheeks, and he embraced her, gently, as if she was fragile.
“I did,” he whispered, closing his eyes as she wrapped her arms around him. “I told you that I would.”
When they parted, she glanced to Aria.
“Who is the woman with you?”
“Mother,” he began, motioning for Aria to come closer. “This is Queen Aria, of Oren. Aria, this is my mother, Lady Etheria, The Witch of the Wood.”
Aria held her breath as Etheria touched her face. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck and on her arms stood on end as she did so. Her fingers were cold, yet soft.
Witch of the Wood?
“Lovely to meet you,” Aria said, after clearing her throat.
“Likewise,” Etheria said. She turned back to Yoska. “Better come in. Night falls soon, and my magic will only protect the Tryan if she remains in my circle.”
Yoska scratched the back of his neck, and gave Aria a sidelong glance.
“This way,” she said, and gracefully walked back into the house, her walking stick at her side.
The wolves followed them inside, and curled up by the fire, resting on their giant paws.
The warmth was more delicious than she remembered. For so long, she’d been cold. Now, the heat in the air allowed her to remove her heavy cloak and hand it to Yoska for hanging on a rack hammered to the wall beside the doorway.
The inside of Yoska’s house was charming. There were rocking chairs with pillows and blankets, and dried purple flowers with white blossoms in wicker holders. The scents that mingled in the air were foreign, but nice.
Etheria shrugged off her cloak, and tossed it to the hanging rack. As if by magic, it floated across the room, and landed on a hook.
Aria lifted a brow, turning her bewildered expression to Yoska. He gave her a look that said he’d explain everything later.
She so wished she could read his mind. There was so much she needed to know. His mother was a witch. He was a Silver Elf. What other secrets did he harbor in that handsome mind of his?
She swallowed, trying to ignore just how attractive Yoska was. It had been ages s
ince she’d looked at a man that way. Now, she wished she knew how she looked, for his gaze always left her feeling insecure.
Silly for a queen, she knew. She shook off her self-consciousness and took a seat in one of the rocking chairs. Yoska was The Steel, one of the Chosen the Ancients had bestowed with great power—the power to defeat the ultimate evil.
“That’s right, Aria, have a seat. I’ll make us some tea.”
Yoska walked in front of her, blocking the archway that led further into the house. “I’ll tend to the tea. You just relax.”
She smiled, but sat down across from Aria. It was then that Aria noticed that there were more tattoos on Etheria’s neck, under her chin, and across her clavicle. Such amazing artistry. She wondered what any of it meant.
“You do know that despite my blindness, that I am quite capable of making a cup of tea, dear boy?”
Etheria drummed her fingers on her staff, her eyes on Aria. Her stare left her uneasy. For a blind elf, she certainly had a way that made her seem as though she could see right into your soul
The fire crackled and startled Aria as a log burst inside the hearth. The wolves barely flinched, licking their paws and lazily resting right before it.
He nodded. “I do. I also know you like to sneak certain herbs into the tea sometimes. I’ll not have Queen Aria revealing her deepest, darkest secrets to you, dear Mother.”
She chuckled, a sound that was a delight to Aria’s ears. It had been ages since she’d heard laughter. She’d began to forget what it sounded like, and the comfort it brought with it.
8
Morning came, and with it, the smell of cinnamon and sizzling ham.
Aria sat up in her bed, and yawned. Everything seemed to hurt. Her toes were still frozen and her body aches from the long ride and stress of what happened in Oren. For the first time since she was a child, no one was there to wake her at the crack of dawn, prepared to bathe, dress, and notify her of her daily schedule.