Dawn of the Forgotten

Home > Fantasy > Dawn of the Forgotten > Page 4
Dawn of the Forgotten Page 4

by K.N. Lee


  The quiet of her room was almost unnerving. She was so used to being fawned over that the emptiness around her left her wary. Then, she realized the freedom that came with this new life. No one needed her to listen to their grievances. She didn’t have to go over the kingdom budget or palace staffing issues.

  Aria was simply that...Aria.

  Not a Queen.

  She flopped back onto her pillow and stared at the ceiling. What would she do now?

  A knock broke her from her thoughts.

  She propped herself up on her elbows. “Come in.”

  The door opened, and Yoska poked his head in.

  Those eerie silver eyes locked with hers and heat filled her cheeks and loins. She bit the corner of her bottom lip, wishing he didn’t have such power over her.

  “Morning,” he said, pushing the door open a bit further. He was dressed differently, in sleek wool pants and a cream belted tunic and supple leather boots.

  All of the dirt, blood, and grim that had caked his face the night before was washed off and smooth, shimmering pale skin shone through. It was unlike anything she’d ever seen.

  Tryans had their inner glow show forth from their skin, but the Silver Elves had something more delicate, understated. Their skin seemed to have tiny flecks of their namesake; silver that shimmered like diamonds.

  She swallowed when his eyes flickered to her bosom and back to her face. “Good morning,” she said.

  Clearing his throat, he crossed his arms over his toned chest. “I’ve made you a bit of breakfast.”

  “Smells good,” she said, offering a small smile.

  “Just some eggs, salted pork, fresh berries, and bread with apple butter. I sprinkled a little cinnamon into it,” he said. “I know how you like that.”

  Her smile broadened. “A bit of breakfast?”

  The corners of his lips lifted into a smirk. “That’s right.”

  “Sounds lovely.”

  He backed out of the room, pulling the door closed “I’ll let you get dressed. There is a frock in the wardrobe. They belonged to my sister.”

  “Sister?” Aria asked, and he paused.

  “Yes,” he said. “She got married. Me and her husband built her a small cottage in the east, by the sea.”

  When his voice lowered, she detected a hint of sadness.

  “That was kind of you.”

  “That was ages ago,” he said. “And, its tradition for the men in a woman’s life to do so when she marries. Nothing special.”

  She nodded. "I see,” she said, softly. She smoothed the front of her shirt and glanced down at her pale toes on the wooden floor. “I’ll be down shortly.”

  Once the door was closed, she sprang from the bed. Her stomach cramped with hunger. She crossed the small room, and opened the double doors of the wardrobe. There were several simple frocks and gowns.

  Her fingers glided along the rich fabric of one of the gowns. It must have been Yoska’s sister’s favorite. Instead of choosing that one, she pulled a plain ivy-green frock with lacing around the torso.

  It was odd dressing herself, and it took longer to tie the lace corset than she’d expected. When she was done, she stood before the narrow mirror and brushed her long, black hair. She didn’t know how to do anything more, but wished she could braid it and coil it at her nape the way Mindy used to.

  Poor Mindy.

  She hoped the young woman had escaped the palace and found her way to safety.

  Finally, pleased with her appearance, she left the room and made her way down the stairs.

  At a small, round wooden table sat Etheria and Yoska. Heaps of food filled a platter in the center.

  Fresh flowers had been picked and placed in a single vase. Sunlight spilled onto them and their shining silver hair from a rectangular window above the kitchen wash basin.

  Yoska stood, and pulled a chair out for her.

  She gave him a nod and smile, and lowered herself into it.

  She watched him and Etheria’s serene face as he spooned apple butter onto her bread and placed it onto a plate.

  He sat beside her and gestured to the platter. “Help yourself.”

  She didn’t delay, taking a bit of the bread and closing her eyes. She savored every sweet and spongy bite of the nutty flavored bread. Then, she grabbed a piece of ham and pulled a bite free with her teeth.

  “Delicious,” she said, after she swallowed.

  Yoska drank from his teacup, watching her over the rim. Studying her.

  "What is the closest kingdom?"

  He rubbed his knuckles to his chin. "Not far. We're in Frost Territory. Our sovereign is Queen Cordelia of Dunhaven. She’s a bit of a tyrant.”

  “Naturally,” Aria said. She sighed, not quite sure what the point was anymore. With Liam dead, and her kingdom in ruins, she realized that she no longer knew her place in the world. It seemed that forever, she'd simply been a mother and a queen.

  Now, she was neither.

  She was just a woman. A Tryan woman in enemy territory.

  "What will do?" Etheria asked. "You can stay here as long as you'd like. I'm not bothered by Tryans one bit."

  She smiled. "That's very kind of you," she said. "But, I will not intrude on your hospitality for too long."

  “She's right,” Yoska said. "You're perfectly welcome to stay. But, we mustn't forget that darkness spreads across Eura. Someone has to stop it."

  Aria looked to him. “You're one of the Chosen. I'm no one.”

  He set his cup down, staring into the dark, steamy liquid with furrowed brows. "I will not hear you speak of yourself in such a way."

  When his eyes lifted to hers, her breath was nearly stolen away.

  “You are the mother of The Storm, a powerful woman,” he said. Then, he stood, clearing his spot. "You're everything to me."

  For a second, Aria was dumbfounded.

  Did she truly hear him properly?

  As he left the room, Aria was left with her confusion, and Etheria’s white eyes staring off past her. For a moment, she was certain the elf looked right at her before turning her gaze to the window.

  9

  Aria joined Yoska before the fire.

  He gave her a smile, in greeting and let her sit with him on thick furs scattered across the floor of the circular room, with a chimney in the center, letting the smoke out.

  She glanced out the window, marveling at how bright the stars were in Alfheim. They twinkled against the dark sky.

  “How are you doing, Aria?”

  She sighed, and shrugged her shoulders. “As good as I can be, I suppose. Considering I’ve lost everything.”

  “You haven’t really lost everything,” he said, taking her hand into his. He gave it a tender squeeze and turned his gaze to the crackling flames as they licked three large chunks of tree stump.

  “Your father passed his strength and power to you. You will prevail against all odds,” he said. “I’ve no doubt about that.”

  “I was thinking,” she said, licking her lips. Her eyes narrowed. “You know so much about me, but I truly know nothing about you. How did you come to Oren?”

  Yoska nodded, a look of pain in his ethereal, silver eyes. “I knew you’d ask me that one day.”

  His eyes did make her uneasy. When he was an eagle, they had always been intense. Now, they were silver and full of light that made him seem to read her soul. She couldn’t look into them without shuddering.

  Aria forced herself to look into them, to see into the endless depths. With hesitation, she took his hand, relieved to find that it was soft and warm. His touch brought comfort, and she realized that though he was a Silver Elf, he was also her oldest friend.

  They had so many memories together. He was her confidant and companion, and now he was taller than her, younger than her, and so ridiculously handsome that she felt like a young girl again, stealing glances in his direction. Still, she couldn’t make sense of it all.

  “Tell me,” she said. “I will not judge, or
think any differently of you.”

  He sighed. The light of the fire made his skin seem thin, his veins visible when the light flickered on his cheeks. “I was born a Silver Elf, but I was cursed.”

  She held her breath, fearing his tale.

  “I did something a long time ago that I have regretted for ages,” he explained. Tears pooled in his eyes as he gave her a sidelong glance. “Something terrible.”

  “It’s all right Yoska,” she told him softly. He was trembling. “You can tell me when you are ready.”

  Yoska sat still and shook his head. “It’s been too long already. I knew this day would come. I went over it in my head millions of times.”

  Aria nodded for him to go on. She didn’t think there was anything that he could of done to make her change her mind about him.

  Yoska took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. “I killed your ancestors. Your great grandfather, your great grandmother and everyone of royal blood in the Orenian palace. All except the child, your grandmother.”

  Aria’s brows lifted in shock.

  “It was in the times of the war before the barriers were created. I was a soldier in the Althedral army, and I killed them. King Stevidan Marx was a great fighter, but it didn’t matter, I was better, and I slayed them all. Even when Queen Volonia tried to make a courageous stand, I knew nothing but my need to be loyal to my queen, and to be dutiful. I killed her as well.”

  Aria heard his voice waver, and listened to the words he spoke, but it all felt like a dream—a nightmare.

  “You killed my family?”

  He winced at her words, but nodded. “It was before you were born, but yes, I was tasked with assassinating them.”

  She took her hand away, and stared into the fire. Her heart thumped in her chest as she weighed the weight of what he had told her.

  He was the evil elf who had slain her family. The notorious murderer she’d only heard whispers about as a child.

  “When I was young, I was sent to live with my uncle in the capital city. It was there that I was encouraged to join the elite soldiers who worked for the royal family. Me, and the other boys were nothing more than weapons, and I was their best.”

  “I see,” Aria whispered, closing her eyes against stinging tears.

  “I was too young to think for myself. Nothing but a child when they instilled their hate into me. You see, Silver Elves hated Tryans. We hated Shadow Elves. We hated everyone who was not of Silver Elf blood.”

  Aria had no words. Nothing came to her but pain in her soul for hearing his revelation. When she didn’t speak, Yoska continued.

  “When the king and queen found out I left a child alive, a Legacy, I was judged a traitor. After I was publicly humiliated, having my long silver hair cut, our pride as a people, I was executed.”

  Aria shot him a frightened gaze. “Dear spirits,” she croaked. Her throat was dry, stomach twisted. “You were killed?”

  He nodded, and her jaw dropped.

  Confusion filled her as she turned her body toward him, crossing her legs before her.

  “Go on,” she said. “Tell me everything. I’m listening.”

  “As you wish,” he said, and came to his feet. “But, first, I think we need wine for the rest.”

  She nodded, and watched as he left the room to head back through a narrow hallway toward the kitchen. Mystified, she sat there in silence, with only the ambient crackling of the fire.

  Yoska was killed.

  Her mind couldn’t wrap around the concept, for her was right there with her, and had been for as long as she could remember.

  When he returned, she reached out for the chalice of wine he handed to her. She took a hearty gulp and fixed her eyes on him. He drank, slow, long sips, and each second that passed by increased the palpable tension in the room.

  He stared at the fire, keeping silent.

  “Yoska,” she called, quietly. “Are you all right?

  He nodded. “I’m fine,” he said. “It’s just hard to talk about.”

  “I understand,” she said, still unsure of how to take the news that he’d murdered her family.

  “When I was sent to the Underworld, something happened,” Yoska continued. His silver eyes looked down at his white hands.

  Her breaths grew shallow as she waited for him to continue.

  “Instead of filling me into the lines of those who were newly dead, an Elder, the Gatekeeper herself, took me from the line. She heard my confessions and cursed me instead. I was sent back, as an eagle. She forced me to live with those I hated, and to complete a vow, that I would always watch over and protect that Legacy and her offspring. Centuries later, you broke the curse Aria. You are the offspring of that Legacy.”

  A gasp escaped her lips.

  “Dear spirits.”

  “When I rescued you from execution, my curse was broken. I know now, that who I was as a young elf, was foolish and headstrong. No one could tell me anything that I didn’t want to hear, and now, I am much wiser. I wish I could bring your ancestors back but I think that Elder saw something noble in all the wrong that I did. I let that child live, and gave you and Liam a chance to be born.”

  She blinked and a tear fell down her cheek.

  “I have no hate for anyone of any race. Only love.” His gaze followed the tear, and he wiped it away with his thumb. “Love for the Tryans, its people love for you, Aria.”

  Numb, and broken, she closed her eyes against the tears, and he pulled her into his chest.

  Love. No one had spoken of such a thing since her husband, and her son.

  Now, a Silver Elf who was probably decades older than her spoke them.

  She’d heard his story, and forgave him for his crimes.

  Love wasn’t on her tongue at that moment.

  But, it did reside in her heart.

  10

  Lilae watched an eagle soar through the bright sky, its wings vast and graceful as it swept up into the clouds and back down toward the white mountains. Just days ago, they’d been in the dark realm of Nostfar.

  When the eagle vanished into the horizon, she rubbed her sore feet and grimaced at the wetness of her socks. She’d have to warm them before the fire later, and hope her toes didn’t freeze in the cold of the long nights of Auroria.

  They’d traveled through miles of brutal terrain, determined to make it to Leedun.

  With the wind at her back, Lilae stood from the ground, at the edge of the cliff overlooking the river at the bottom of the valley. The snow-capped mountain glistened under the sunlit sky as sparse white clouds rolled across.

  She closed her eyes and breathed in a cleansing breath when she felt someone approach from behind. She glanced over her shoulder to see Liam standing there.

  “Come, Liam,” she said. “Sit with me.”

  “Of course.” Liam gave her small smile and joined her at the edge of the cliff. They sat together in silence for a moment before he took her hand and held up within his own.

  She leaned her head to rest against his shoulder and smiled at his familiar sent of camp fires. There was something comforting about his presence even as they pressed forward to a fate that would lead to war.

  “Risa and Jaiza are tending to the rabbits you caught earlier,” he said.

  “Ah, good. Jaiza is a brilliant cook. She’ll make us something delicious, I’m certain.”

  “Your sisters do love and look after you,” he said. “Its good to see. I’m not alone in wanting to take care of you.”

  Her smile widened as she looked to him.

  His dark hair had grown longer since they’d first met that fateful day at the barrier. Along with growing stubble on his face and neck, she realized his inner, Tryan glow began to become muted by time spent away from his realm, Kyril.

  “Liam,” she began, tucking wild chunks of red hair behind her ears. “Do you miss your mother?”

  He nodded and glanced at her. “Of course,” he said, his bright blue eyes fixed on hers.

&nbs
p; Some days she’d stare into them, lost as they mimicked the sky on a summer morning.

  “My father died when I was a little boy,” he said, drawing his knees into his chest, and wrapping his arms around them. “My mother was devastated when he died, but never let it interfere with caring for me to the best of her capability. She was exceptional, Lilae. And, she’s all I have back home.”

  “I never met my mother,” she said. “As you know, I was taken away the day I was born.” Throat dry, she swallowed as she thought of the first time that she would meet the woman who gave birth to her.

  “Something is bothering you,” he said. “What is it?”

  “Well,” Lilae began, softly. Speaking her fears might make them true, but she trusted Liam enough to give him insight into what went on in her mind. “What if she doesn’t remember me—what if she doesn’t love me—what if she turns me away?”

  He gave her hand a squeeze. The warmth of his palm against hers was soothing, and she leaned into him. “Then, she isn’t a mother at all. Who could turn you away, Lilae? You are the physical embodiment of sunshine—the personification of a very good day. She would be sorely misguided to shun you.”

  Those words brought a smile to her face, and courage to her soul.

  “You are a poet, Prince Liam.”

  He chuckled and kissed her on the cheek.

  They resumed staring off into the horizon, watching the birds fly, the trees rustle with the wind, and the Silver River shimmer and rush through the valley.

  That evening, Lilae slurped the hearty stew Ayoki and Jaiza prepared from rabbit and winter vegetables found throughout the forest. It warmed her from within as she savored the rich broth and chunks of meat.

  Grand Master Neru regaled them with tales of his younger days training and going on adventures throughout Nostfar.

  To actually find a Shadow Elf man as kind and fatherly as Neru brought a smile to her face. After all she’d suffered at the hands of Dragnor, she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to trust one from his race.

  But, Ayoki, Kenichi, and Neru were proof that not all beings could be judged by their brethren. She just hoped the other humans of Auroria would share her views and welcome her new friends into their silver and black city.

 

‹ Prev