You could hear the bones shatter and clank against the still standing army as the fae continued to repeat their spells. The necromancer struggled to see what was happening as his barrier of protection began to be a hindrance in his ability to control the dead. Tyriad could see Alfontus growing angrier with every outpour of magic in his direction. With each command of the dead, the fae annihilated the front line of skeletons. They had not moved more than a few feet. Tyriad watched as Alfontus looked frantically to the sky. He was searching for something, but the fae dragons were blocking his view. The necromancer crouched and began rubbing his hands together, a dark fog gathering at his feet.
Before Tyriad could call out to his shifters, Alfontus leaped upward, sending a powerful blast of magic toward the Vale shifters, knocking them back. They struggled to get themselves under control and spiraled into the open fields surrounding them. From behind Alfontus, a giant, yellow, shimmering dragon approached carrying something in its claws. As the Avalon Shifters slowed their pace, Tyriad watched as a small girl covered in a black cloak was set gingerly down on the platform next to Alfontus. She looked up, her eyes meeting Tyriad’s and smiled angrily. Her pale skin and dark features were stunningly poignant, and the velvet of her cloak whipped wildly around her.
Across the dead-filled valley, as the fae continued to take down the remains of human life, Osiris and Holland stood watching the battle ensue. As the girl’s feet touched the wooden podium, Holland’s spirit dropped and his fists clenched in anger. It was Malaya standing next to Alfontus. Holland looked quickly to Osiris whose face showed he was not a bit surprised at the appearance of the Broom Isle princess. He watched carefully as Malaya began to rub her hands together aggressively, the clouds still swirling overhead. Suddenly, lightning bolts started shooting down from the clouds, striking the ground below them. Screams echoed through the canyon as fae soldiers were struck, turning their bodies to dust.
When the lightning ceased, the ground began to once again tremble under their feet. Holland watched as the same black magic that Alfontus had mustered swarmed around Malaya. Her eyes turned gray, and the soil beneath the large tower began to crumble. The Avalon dragon reached down and grasped Malaya and Alfontus by the shoulders as the tower beneath them gave way. Floating in midair, Malaya’s aura pulsated as waves of magic spilled from her hands and into the earth below. From the crevasses created emerged the hollow bodies of creatures long passed. From giants to ogres and everything in between, the large, dead carcasses thrashed and attacked anything in their paths.
Fae bodies were flung or crushed beneath the weight of the creatures, and line after line of fae army perished within minutes of hitting the valley floor. Tyriad moved his troops back and created a line of magic to avoid entering the valley. Though their powers dwindled the few surviving human skeletons, they seemed to have little effect on the large, thrashing dead steadily emerging from the deep depths of the earth below. What started as a triumphant march to freedom began to slowly dissolve into a fae burial ground. Tyriad stepped down from his horse and stood silently among the chaos.
He looked around the scene as if everything had slowed. Bodies flew as explosive blows from the large, dead giants pummeled the crowds. Streams of magic whirled through the air just inches from Tyriad’s face. The screams echoed through his chest and into his head, and the smoke from the dragons choked his lungs. They were losing, and quickly. Tyriad took a step forward, intent on shifting to his dragon and attacking the large beasts but stopped at the faint sound of trumpets pushing through the noise of the battle. He turned slowly and watched as the army of fae soldiers below began to part, and a large, white horse galloped through the crowd.
As the horse approached, the long, glistening, golden hair of Leonetta flew freely in the wind. She stopped next to Tyriad and winked at him, her hand grasped around a long, wooden staff with a glowing orb perched at the top. She turned toward the crowd of the dead and began to chant, a white, sparkling bubble surrounding her. Holland and Osiris dropped their swords to their sides and watched as light began to emanate from the staff. As she raised the staff up high in the air, Holland screamed out to the troops. Before they realized what was coming, the staff hit the ground, sending a radiating white wave through the valley and across the skies. The brittle bones of enchanted warriors dropped into piles of ash, and all living beings were thrown back by the force of the blow.
As the Avalon dragon holding Malaya released its grip, flying backward into the field, Holland leaped forward, transforming into his beast and gliding through the valley, catching Malaya in his claws. As he passed Leonetta, their eyes locked, and she smiled slightly, feeling the fear he had trapped in his chest. She pushed her staff forward, releasing another stream of magic which hit Holland in the chest and hurled him into the air. He tucked Malaya against his chest as his body hit the dirt and he rolled across the valley floor. He could feel the rocks and dirt scrape holes through his wings as his large, scaled body came to a stop. Holland writhed in pain, unable to shift to his human form. He slowly released Malaya onto the ground where she lay unconscious.
Osiris picked himself up off the ground and growled loudly. He took off down the hill and into the valley. He stood looking up at Leonetta who gazed out over the fallen dead. Osiris raised his sword high over his head and screamed out, summoning the human troops to their posts. Hundreds of men began to emerge over the hills, running full force into the battle. The fae reciprocated and began moving quickly toward the field, meeting the humans in battle. Osiris grabbed a bow from the back of a fallen Avalon soldier and released an arrow in Leonetta’s direction. Tyriad leaped forward, shielding the unsuspecting princess from the razor-sharp tip of the spiraling wooden weapon. The arrow pierced Tyriad’s shoulder and he fell to the ground, grabbing the wound. Slowly, he stood to his feet and pulled the arrow from the wound, locking eyes with Osiris.
The fae numbers were far less than the Avalon Army, and Tyriad watched as more soldiers were defeated. A mighty swish of air blew through the valley, and everyone turned their attention to the sky just beyond the remote forests. One by one, the large, black dragons of the Wild began swooping over the canopy and across the valley, exploding their fire into the troops making their way over the hilltops. The fae cheered out as the Wild vanquished hundreds of Avalon soldiers before their shifters begin engaging. Tyriad looked up at the hill nervously, waiting to see if more Avalon soldiers emerge. Moment by moment, the barren hill sat, but just as the feeling of celebratory excitement began to simmer in Tyriad’s chest, hundreds more began to pour over and into the valley below.
Tyriad picked up his sword and raced down into the groups of men fighting. The clashing of metal could be heard across the treetops as the men battled for control. He sliced his way through the hordes of Avalon soldiers, pushing the remains of their bodies gingerly aside. Sweat and blood covered the fae army’s brows, but no reprieve seemed to be in sight. Though the fae were not easily killed, somehow the Avalon army dwindled their numbers quickly. The blue stone in Tyriad’s necklace began to glow and move over his body as he fights, restoring his wounds, and giving him the energy to continue. He whispered thanks to Asphodul in the wind and turned quickly when he heard her voice.
“You are welcome,” she stated, sitting atop the hill next to Leonetta and Seville.
Tyriad pushed the soldier off of him and sliced him through the heart before turning toward the fae women on the hill. Seville’s face was ridden with angst as she peered down over the fallen soldiers of the Vale. Her heart began to ache, and the realization that her kingdom was truly in danger started to overwhelm her. Seville turned to her daughters with a serene look. They returned her gaze, not wanting to accept what she was trying to say.
“Be strong for our kingdom,” she whispered. “Rule with honor and loyalty. Bring peace to our people and never give in to the anger that lingers.”
“Mother!” Asphodul screamed out before a bright light enveloped the whole of
the valley. Magic shot out of Seville’s chest, blinding everyone in its path. Tyriad and the girls shielded their eyes from the light and knelt. As if Seville’s magic knew exactly who to protect, small shields covered the fae, the King of Avalon, and the fae shifters. As the light receded, those protected rubbed their eyes and look around them. Osiris began to back up and made his way toward the hills behind him. Tyriad looked out through the valley and watched as the surviving fae soldiers stood among the cinder ruins of the Avalon army.
Tyriad turned quickly at the sound of approaching soldiers’ echoes. The Avalon stopped abruptly and looked down at the rubble. Osiris puts his arms out to halt the battle where it stood. The soldiers backed up away from the fae and turned in the opposite direction in retreat. Tyriad laughed and smiled, realizing they had pushed the Avalon army back, but his face quickly straightened as he turned back to Seville and the girls. Cries from Asphodul seem to resonate through the ears of everyone in her vicinity. Tyriad watched as she knelt down on the bloodied grass next to her mother. Seville had given the last of her magic to defeat the advancing army, knowing that without it, her kingdom would be lost.
Silence replaced the sound of battle, and one by one, every fae soldier took to their knees in reverence to the queen. Tears stream down Asphodul’s face. Leonetta joined her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. Asphodul stood, wiped her tears, and fixed her gaze on Osiris who was standing alone, staring down at the scene. She stepped forward and straightened her shoulders.
“Let this be a lesson to you,” Asphodul sang through the valley. “We are the fae, and this is our land. We are willing to give our lives for our people. Leave now and go back to your cinder-covered fields or stay, and we will meet again. But I tell you this now, King Osiris of the Cinder Territories, if we do meet in the battlefield, I will surely take your life.”
Osiris clenched his chin and held it high as he turned and disappeared over the hills. Leonetta watched as two Avalon shifters picked Holland up in their claws and flew his tattered dragon body toward the ports, Malaya once again clutched in his scaled arms. Sadness filled her heart as the damaged remains of the fae army began sifting through the dust and ash for their fallen. She stepped forward and sent a gentle flow of blue mist across the field. The army stood back as the bodies of the fallen rose from the ashes and floated gingerly to the open fields. They nodded to Leonetta in thanks and made their way back to the camp.
The hours after the great battle were rife with sadness and anger. The fae moved around the camp, attending to the injured and preparing for the ride home in the morning. The injured dragons were unable to make the trip home that night, and Tyriad felt a night of rest and reflection was pertinent before returning to the kingdom. Though they were victorious, to the fae, one senseless lost life is a reason to avoid any joyful emotions. The queen’s body was brought back to the camp and covered in white silks before being placed upon the back of one of the unharmed shifters and flown back to Athanasia. Leonetta and Asphodul would accompany the queen and prepare for her memorial.
Tyriad approached the shifter as he readied for flight, flowers covering his tail in honor of his precious cargo. Asphodul met Tyriad at the foot of the dragon and laid her face against his chest. She listened to his mortal heartbeat and found comfort in her husband’s embrace. He kissed her gently on the top of the head before pulling back and looking into her eyes. He saw nothing but sadness in her gaze, and his heart broke at the thought of his wife in such dismay.
“I am sorry,” Tyriad whispered. “I wish I could have saved so many more.”
“Never say you are sorry for protecting our kingdom,” she replied strongly. “You have done us a great honor, and when you return, you will find your rightful spot next to me as king.”
Tyriad looked up at the queen’s lifeless body, realizing that with her death, birthed an era of new leadership in the Vale. Leonetta would sit alongside her sister as princess, and the three would take the fae into a new rule. Leonetta walked over and wrapped her arms around Tyriad lovingly. She pulled back with a smile and took her sister’s hand.
“We must be on our way,” she replied before turning and nodding to the Wild Dragons sitting in the fields. “Tyriad, will you make sure the Wild are taken care of?”
“Of course, my lady,” Tyriad replied, bowing his head. “They will be welcomed into Athanasia with honors.”
Leonetta smiled and, hand in hand, the two royal sisters climbed up on top of Vitraus, the commander of the Wild. Tyriad stepped back and covered his eyes as dust swirled around him. The long-stretched wings of the shifter and the Wild wrapped feverishly as they took flight and set off for Athanasia. Asphodul clung tightly to the large, black spikes that ran down Vitraus’ spine while Leonetta sat freely, used to the Wild’s flight.
As the dragons flew off toward home, Asphodul looked back at the camp and waved at Tyriad standing alone in the field. She turned back toward the wind and let out a deep sigh, remembering she had a burial to attend. Her heart sank a bit, thinking about the loss of both of her parents, and she leaned back into the comforting arms of Leonetta who could feel her sadness. The two quietly rode high in the clouds, not speaking a word until their feet had hit the lush grasses of their kingdom.
Asphodul brushed the dust from her gown and looked up at Ardontis who stood next to the queen’s body, sadness covering his usually blank face. The staff of Athanasia slowly moved from the palace and began to kneel before the shifter holding the queen’s body. Asphodul waved her hand across the castle walls, and black tapestries bellowed downward. Cries echoed through the walls of the kingdom, as the queen was loved by all.
Leonetta took the arm of the Faith and walked alongside the queen’s body as it was silently taken to the sanctuary for preparation. Asphodul understood that despite her pain, she was expected to take the duties of queen even before the ceremony had been completed. She walked slowly and silently next to Briella into the castle and down the halls to her mother’s chambers. Briella opened the doors and stepped aside, allowing Asphodul to retrieve her mother’s crown and scepter for the memorial service. Asphodul hated this part of the royalty. She hated that even in her darkest moments she had to follow tradition. She knew being queen meant unyielding loyalty in the face of adversity, but at that moment, she just wanted to lay down and cry.
After Queen Seville’s crown was left with the staff, Leonetta and Asphodul walked out into the garden and sat down on the bench in the middle of the blossoming flowers. The sun had already set, and the clouds no longer plagued the open skies over the Vale. Asphodul looked up at the twinkling constellations, but peace did not find her heart. She knew that when the dust cleared, her mother was laid to rest, and the mourning was complete, she would face a new world, and there was no doubt in her mind that Osiris was not done. Where he would go next was unknown, but despite her intent to remove vengeance from her heart, her hand tightened around Leonetta’s, and the two sisters sat silently knowing they would one day avenge the fallen of their kingdom.
Chapter Fourteen: A Rising Tide
The salty sea air washed over the Avalon troops as they silently returned to the port. There would be no celebrations on this day, and Osiris made known his anger. The soldiers scurried to the different cottages along the wharf, not wanting to be caught in the king’s sight, else they may find themselves falling victim to his rage. Osiris walked silently into the saloon and grabbed a bottle from the shelf. He took the cap off and took a long drink, running Leonetta’s face over in his mind. The sounds of the creaking ship in the docks behind him were the only sound that could be heard coming from the port.
Across the beach, next to the small cottage that Holland and Malaya had settled into was Holland’s tattered dragon body. He laid in the surf of the Fortune, waiting for his body to heal enough to shift back to his human form. The others had attended Malaya who now laid in the cottage bed, recovering from her injuries. Holland let his large dragon head lay in the
wet sand as waves washed over him. The water soothed his aching muscles as magic surged through his golden blood. His eyes stayed fixated on the horizon, and he watched as the moonlight sent rays of light along the path of dragon blood seeping into the depths of the sea.
Visions of Leonetta’s gaze pushed through Holland’s mind, but he was too weak and too distraught to drive them away. It was clear to him now that her love for him left when she rode away on the Wild many marks ago. And though he had pledged his love to Malaya, his heart still ached at the finality that fell the moment Leonetta cast magic against him. The smell of cinder burned in Holland’s nostrils, and his heart ached for the lives that were lost during this day of battle. Anger simmered deep in his fiery belly as he thought of the moment that Leonetta set her magic across the moving troops. All her words in Avalon were nothing but lies, and her heart was not scheduled to protect the fae, but instead, take Avalon to its knees. The sound of servants walking down the creaky steps of the cottage drew his attention away from the anger, and his thoughts rested on his place beside Malaya in the throne of Avalon.
Slowly, Holland raised his head from the sand, feeling healthy enough to return to his human form. He pulled his large body upright and took a deep breath in as he morphed back into the man he no longer recognized. He limped slowly into the cottage and took a seat next to the bed where Malaya slept peacefully. She stirred, sensing someone’s presence and opened her eyes to find Holland staring back at her.
“Holland,” she said wincing with pain.
War of the Realms Box Set Page 24