Unsuspecting of her arrival, Holland stood in surprise as Leonetta entered the room, closing the door behind her. The two stood frozen, staring at each other from across the room. The sounds of water dropping echoed through the walls before they both quickly crossed the room toward each other.
“Oh, Holland,” Leonetta cried out as they connected in an embrace. “I have started to lose my sense of reality.”
“There, there, my dear,” he said, closing his eyes and taking in her entrancing scent. “What has happened?”
“Nothing really,” she sniffled, pulling back to look him in the face. “It's what hasn’t happened that is constantly on my mind.”
Holland pushed a piece of hair from her face, and their eyes locked. Leonetta pulled her hand to Holland’s face and ran it over his cheek. She looked longingly into his eyes, and he pulled her close, pressing his lips against her. They fell back onto the bed, their lust unleashed with nowhere else to go. Leonetta tore at Holland’s shirt, pulling it from over his head and reaching down to the ties on his pants. She sat up and dangled her legs over him. Holland pulled her to the edge, hiking her dress up around her waist. There, deep in the recesses of the dingy and dark fortress of the dungeons, Leonetta and Holland connected on a level they had only dreamed of over the years. Their sweats and cries of lust bounced off the walls as they lost themselves in their embrace.
When the flame of their lust had extinguished in an explosion of lust and pleasure, Holland curled up behind Leonetta and pulled her soft body toward him. He didn’t know what this meant, or if anything would change, but at that moment, she was his once again. Leonetta sighed, pulling his hand toward her lips and kissing it gently.
“I wish things were simpler,” she whispered.
“Why can’t they be? Please explain to me, Leonetta,” Holland begged, as she rolled over to face him. “I want to marry you.”
“My sister…she chose her mate, and he is a shifter,” she began to explain. “This means she will never bare children since fae can only carry a child of the fae. This leaves me responsible for carrying on the bloodline of the royal fae family.”
“So, the reason you think you cannot marry me is because I cannot give you children?” Holland asked.
“Yes,” she replied sadly. “There is no magic that can change that.”
Leonetta pulled herself from the bed and dressed, looking at the door ahead of her. She longed to marry Holland as he had been the only man she had ever loved, but she knew that her commitment to her kingdom was more important. She turned back around to face Holland.
“There are ways around this problem,” Holland said, thinking of the solution with a tight knot in his stomach. “We could have you impregnated by a fae.”
“I don’t want to think about it right now,” Leonetta said, shaking her head. “The thought of laying with another while being married to you is dreadful.”
“That it is,” Holland stated, standing and walking over to Leonetta. “But it is a burden I would bear to spend my life with you.”
Leonetta’s eyes softened as she looked at Holland who no longer hid his feelings for her. The fact that he would endure such heartbreak just to stay by her side was more than she could say for any other man she had met. She reached out and ran her hand down Holland’s cheek, smiling kindly at him.
“Let’s not talk about this today. We have so many other things to focus on,” she replied. “Come, I think you could be useful in our strategy against Osiris.”
“You are letting me out of here?” Holland asked, pulling on his pants and shirt.
“For now,” she said. “But be warned: one wrong move, and Osharus will not be so kind to you again. You will find your head on a spike.”
“I am pledged to your cause,” Holland stated. “And I have an idea that I believe will literally bring Osiris to an end.”
Chapter Fifteen: War Has Arrived
Throughout the land, troops were preparing for battle. The mer-army heaved and plowed through the water, practicing their moves within the confines of the sententious ocean waves. High in the sky, on the grounds of the Edann Piers castle, the Vale soldiers worked feverishly alongside the Cascading army to blend and move as they did, lending their fae powers as an aide. Not far away, Osiris and his Avalon army were packing their tents and dawning their army, readying themselves to march into battle. Malaya was awake, combing the fields for her next meal, strengthening her and her child for the plan she had worked so hard to produce. Asphodul, the Queen of the fae, sat quietly in her throne room, staring off, lost in her thoughts of her sister and husband. And far across the expanses of field and farm, Alfontus growled and grunted, lifting his large arms high in the air and smashing them down upon the mountain bed, preparing for a war no one was expecting.
Aralea walked barefoot across the marble floors and out onto the balcony overlooking the gardens. She smiled as she saw Leonetta sitting in a chair, taking in the sun. In two more days, they would be marching into battle. And though their fears of Osiris were scarce, they did not trust Ghede to keep his distance. There was a plan afoot, and Leonetta could not see what was coming. Aralea quietly sat down next to the fae Princess and grabbed her hand, kindly placing it on her lap. The two royal entities sat silently watching the clouds blow by, the smell of the salty sea piercing their nostrils. Leonetta ran the events of the meeting over in her mind, happy that Osharus trusted her enough to allow Holland’s help. In the end, their strategy seemed foolproof, but Leonetta was smarter than to think it was unbreakable.
“I will make sure your husband is protected,” Leonetta stated, staring out toward the ocean. “I have slipped an enchanted stone into his armor. It will keep him from harm’s way. Unfortunately, the enchantment can only be done for one being at a time, so I am unable to do it for your father.”
“I understand, and am grateful,” Aralea said, looking at the beautiful fae sitting next to her. “But what about Holland?”
“I think after what he has been through, he will be fine,” she smiled. “He is stronger than we all give him credit for. I see a lot of my father in him, even though I got so little time with him before he died.”
“We miss him,” Aralea stated, thinking about the lost fae King. “But he gave his life for the best reason.”
Leonetta squeezed Aralea’s hand and smiled, thinking of the few moments she had with her father. She wanted so badly to make him proud and to see the fae kingdom brought back to its former glory. Though they did not sustain too grave of a loss during their battle with Osiris, Leonetta thought as all fae did – that one lost life, enemy or ally, was too many. She feared that with the dead King’s revival, she would see more death than she could handle over the coming marks.
The Cascading realm moved quietly as day turned to night and Osiris grew closer. The shifters had returned and reported Osiris’ entry into the realm, marking his march toward his camping location. In just one day, he would be setting his feet down, resting before driving forward in an attempt to take the port. Osharus had been oddly quiet and recluse, shut up in his room.
The next morning, Georges went to Osharus’ chambers to let him know he had sent the shifters to see if Osiris had made camp, but upon entering, he found the chambers quiet and empty. He ran from the room, unknowing of what had happened. As he passed Tyriad, the fae King reached out, stopping him in his tracks.
“Whoa,” Tyriad bellowed. “What is wrong?”
“King Osharus is not in his chambers,” Georges panted.
“He went with the shifters to scope out the campsite,” Tyriad said calmly.
“Without guard? He is in danger. This isn’t acceptable,” Georges said in a panic.
“Walk with me, Georges,” Tyriad said, motioning down the hall. “For years, I have heard stories about the legend that is King Osharus. He has seen many battles and won many wars. Your caring for him is uplifting, but you need not worry. That old man has many lives left and many wars to wage. He needed to clear his head and wrap his
mind around Osiris and his troops.”
“Why did he not come to me?” Georges said in a calm voice, his breathing reaching a steady point. “At least then I would know where he was.”
“Because he knew you would go along,” Tyriad smiled. “He is protecting you, especially now that you are going to be the father of the future King. If anything, the news of a grandchild has revived Osharus and reminded him of what he is fighting for, something that all of us should take time to do.”
“Everyday I wake and look into the eyes of the mother of my unborn child,” Georges explained. “I remember exactly why I fight for this kingdom.”
“And that is the mark of a true future King and astoundingly noble father,” Tyriad replied. “I only wish I could do the same one day. However, as a shifter in the fae world, I will never see my own children, but I will see the eyes of the children that walk the cobblestone streets of the Vale. Those are the reasons I fight for all of us.”
“You have comforted me much,” Georges replied, shaking Tyriad’s hand. “The gods have their hands on your shoulders.”
Tyriad nodded at Georges before parting ways and heading out into the gardens. Tyriad sat down on a small bench between the roses and watched as the sun peaked through the ominous clouds. He could hear the waves of the ocean reaching the shores below, and he ran his necklace through his fingers, thinking of his dear Asphodul. His heart flew miles every morning, hoping to bring comfort to her as she sat alone in the walls of the castle.
For hours, Tyriad sat among the magically blossoming roses, their scent as sweet as if they were planted by the gods themselves. He looked up at the balcony and nodded at Leonetta who stood looking up at the looming storm. Her eyes were weary but brightened as Holland approached her. Tyriad thought of the simpler days where he would whisk down and pick Asphodul up for one of their many adventures. The sound of flapping wings drew his attention to the sky as the shifters returned, carrying Osharus on their back.
Tyriad stood and walked toward the large landing beasts and laughed as Osharus nimbly jumped from the shifter’s back, tapping him on the shoulder with his staff. His face was calm, but Tyriad could tell he returned with news. The King nodded at Tyriad as they walked toward each other.
“Osiris has reached his camp,” Osharus whispered. “His men are but a quarter of what we have, but the traitor Malaya rides strong upon the back of a large dragon. She lurks in the shadows, unknowing of prying eyes. There is something different about her, and I fear she has other unknown plans.”
“We have known this the entire time,” Tyriad responded. “All we can do is continue as planned, hoping that the dead King’s touch on the battle is light. Sadly, there is no other option.”
“Agreed,” Osharus said nodding his head. “I shall go alert the others. Please spread the word to the troops to begin preparing. We leave before dawn to meet them on the hills. They are faced toward the back of the castle, so I am guessing they are planning to stay as far from the mer-army as possible.”
“They would be wise to do so,” Tyriad stated. “But we will see how things progress.”
The two Kings nodded to each other, and Tyriad headed toward the barracks while the King entered the castle to find Georges. Tyriad knew his men were ready at any moment, but the Cascading army was made of mostly humans, and they lacked the ability to transition so quickly. He called the army sergeants to the courtyard and explained the newest news. They had already been briefed on strategy and assured Tyriad their forces would be ready to go by the time the stars shined in the night sky.
Inside the castle, the hustle of the servants could be heard as they prepared the battle feast. It was a tradition for centuries where the soldiers were invited into the dining hall to share a meal with their Kings and Commanders. While the royals and the leaders were able to step back and remember why they were fighting, the soldiers too often were caught up in training and preparation. Osharus believed that sharing food and laughter in such a grave time helped to remind the men and give them the strength and fortitude to march into the battle with their heads held high.
Seeing an opportunity to take her mind off things, Aralea immediately went to work helping to arrange the hall and cover it in festive and noble décor. She hung the flags of her kingdom and her ally’s kingdom high in the rafters. She ordered the colors of the kingdoms to be draped across the tables and statues of brave men from the past to be placed in the center of each one. Aralea made sure that the hall was brightly lit, leaving no chance for a gloomy or uncertain mood to enter into the area. Torches were doubled, and the seldom-lit chandeliers were set ablaze next to the waving colors of the fae, the wizards, and the mer-people.
King Ebin would take this time to lend his magic to his army, allowing them to walk on land and enjoy the comradery of the people they would be fighting for. So many of them had never even seen the men of the other realm, and he felt it imperative that they discovered a caring for those above the water’s surface. This would also allow Osharus the opportunity to tell Ebin about Pike and explain where he went. King Ebin had only seen the dead King during the Autumn Solstice and was not aware of his and his minions’ ever-growing powers.
By the sun’s descent and the evening glow, the hall was ready, and the sweet smells of roasting boars, cakes, pies, and flowing wine radiated from the castle. Osharus stood on the balcony and watched as the soldiers, dressed in their finest uniforms, talked loudly and excitedly as they entered into the castle. Trumpets sounded as the mer-army, dawning their new legs, marched clumsily up the stairs, staring around in wonder. The fae waited until the others had entered, all having had the pleasure of dining in their own royal hall on many occasions, but understanding the honor these soldiers felt. The shifters chose to stay as their dragons, lining up beside the Wild and honoring the coming battle among themselves.
Once everyone was inside and seated, the King, his daughter, and son-in-law were announced. They walked into the room, and the entire room rose to their feet, bowing their heads in reverence. Osharus walked to the front and put his hands in the air, signaling for them to take a seat.
“My brave soldiers,” he spoke loudly, “please do not stand for me. We are the ones who pay homage to you on this night before the battle.”
The fae King, the mermaid King and Queen, Princess Aralea and Prince Georges, and King Osharus all stood, clapping for the soldiers. You could see the honor and valor seep over the crowd as they watched the rulers, placed by the gods, pay them respect for the first time in their services to the kingdom. A murmur fell over the crowd as the royal parties took their seats and dinner service began.
“Where is Leonetta?” Aralea whispered to Tyriad.
“She is performing a spell of protection that may help us in case an unexpected visitor joins the battle,” Tyriad whispered back.
The party continued through the evening, and as the moon moved high in the sky, the soldiers were dismissed, merrily singing songs of battle and retiring to their barracks for just a few hours of sleep before readying and marching toward the hill. Stars shot across the sky, often thought to be good tidings from the gods themselves. Looking out over the ledge and down at the docks, the mer-army took one last look at their legs before diving back into the deep, the water clearing their Cinderella spell away.
As the soldiers fell into a deep slumber, the others wandered the halls and gardens, unable to find solace in the dream world. Aralea began helping the servants clean up from the party, dreading the moment they began to head out. Osharus and Georges sat quietly, side-by-side, watching the night sky from the balcony. Tyriad walked down into the port and out into the fields behind the castle, watching the shifters fly by as they kept a look out for the Avalon army. And Leonetta sat quietly in her chambers next to Ardontis, recovering after her complicated enchantment. It was the calm before the storm, and all that could be heard were the waves of the Fortune.
A gush of wind blew across the balcony, and Georges and Osharus watch
ed as Tyriad’s dragon landed in front of them, quickly morphing into its human form. He straightened his clothes and looked up at the King, nodding in recognition of the arrival of Osiris’ troops. Osharus looked at Georges and stood, making their way into the castle. Osharus turned to the left to find Leonetta and Ardontis, while Georges searched out Aralea.
Everyone took their moment to say their farewells as the fae King sounded the bells. The sound of marching troops and shifters taking off could be heard echoing through the halls. Aralea walked out onto the balcony next to Ardontis and watched nervously as everyone gathered in the courtyard. The Kings, Commanders, and all the top military personnel bowed toward the Princess and the Faith before climbing atop the shifters and taking flight. That quickly the castle went from peaceful to in motion, and then quiet once again. Aralea looked up at the ocean as the sounds of trumpets blared across the ocean waves, the bobbing heads of the mer-soldiers lined up in formation.
The lands behind the port were made of rolling hills that pushed across the land like waves. Between the widespread slopes were large fields, some remnants of the spring farms, others overgrown with long flowing grasses. Tyriad flew low, landing atop the second hill from the castle. Leonetta climbed down off his back and looked across the once fruitful farming field to the other hilltop. Standing, looking back at them was Osiris, laden in armor and carrying the flag of Avalon. He lifted his sword high in the air and flinched as Tyriad roared loudly.
The battle had begun.
Chapter Sixteen: Lightning and Fire
As if Osiris had forgotten the normal etiquette of war, he waved the flag high before Leonetta could even retreat down the hill. A wall of arrows flew high in the air, arching upward and then falling toward the troops. Osharus raised his staff, creating a glowing green layer of magic for protection. The troops ducked but watched as the arrows hit the shield which immediately dissolved into ash. Georges nodded at the front line, and trumpets sounded as they crested the hill and marched toward the center, setting down a front line of shields.
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