Renegade: A Young Adult Dystopian

by Mallory McCartney

  Voices bounced around his mind, but they weren’t memories, they weren’t anything at first. Just soft whispers, echoes of places and people that he had once known. Of the secrets he had learned, the knowledge of men and their lies, of broken crowns and hidden truths. Of the madness that cultivated it all. You will do our bidding to remake this world. The scene sharpened, and Adair stood looking at the still pool of water, afraid to go to its edge. A dull throbbing ached in his temple as he shuffled toward it. We will do great things, together. Rid the world of this weakness. And start to purify the magic. Staring at the water, the surface rippled as his quicks breaths hit the surface. Expecting his reflection, he stared back at the shadows curling before him, deepening with every second. There was no man to be spotted, no recognition of any humanity. Whimpering, he scrambled back, but the water continued to churn, the pond lapping at the edges as the shadows crawled toward him, slick and persistent. They rushed and crashed toward him, blotting out any light, and overtook him, covering his legs, his arms, his torso, his eyes. Until that was all that was left of him.

  Adair drew in a deep breath, and, not for the first time today, woke up laying on his back. The sky took on an odd filter, hazy and unclear. Sitting up, he dusted off his jacket, looking around at the edge of the forest. All that stared back at him were the trees encased in ice and downy flakes of snow coating the world. Standing, he looked at the skeleton of the building resting on the hill, and the hundreds of creatures prowling toward him. Wolfishly grinning, he walked toward them, cutting through the ice, away from the forest.

  Ashes skittered amongst the fallen, and as he reached the ancient creature, it bowed its massive head, its raspy voice filling his mind. “You are not like the others. Not even like the two who unleashed us. Who are you?” He took in the gashes on its hide, its rippling muscles, and unyielding eyes. Slowly walking toward it, he placed a hand on its mammoth shoulder. Growls rippled throughout the army, but the dabarne watched as blackness ran down Adair’s arms, flowing through his fingers and flaring underneath his palm. Flesh started to knit itself back together, sealing the wounds, and he could feel that same magic stirred in the monster’s heart, echoing his own.

  He lowered his hands and bellowed for all to hear, “I am your king!” It was like watching grass flattening against the wind as the dabarne in front of him bowed the front half of its body, the army following suit. The air around him crackled as he drank in the sight. Behind the army, in the broken courtyard, lay a lifeless body in the middle of a ring of ash. His gaze indifferently skittered over the woman, but glinting in the rubble, her sword lay beside her—cruel edges and duel blade with sharpened teeth. He strode through the lines, the army’s answering roar echoing around him. Reaching the middle, he picked up the blade, gripping it in his hands. It was heavy, the hilt’s coldness jarring through him.

  Looking up to the Academy, the broken windows, the blood-spattered sides, the smoke rising from the rubble. He thrust the blade in the air, his yell more guttural as his army whispered and chanted throughout his mind. Our Dark King rises, he rises, he rises, he rises. His world was filled with inferno and rage as he stood, as the place he had called home ignited in emerald flames.

  Lowering the blade he faced his army, roaring, “I think it’s about time we pay the capital a visit, don’t you?” The ear-splitting roars rose around him as he grinned viciously. His blood thrummed and his skin rippled with goosebumps. He could not get enough of this intoxicating elation. Nothing would ever be enough for his hunger. He would walk to the ends of the world, and take, and consume, and never feel satisfied. As the world shattered and gravity left him, his army galloped behind him, their footfalls like rolling thunder shuddering across the world. He cut through the air consumed by magic and smoke as he shot across the sky like a celestial body, and for the first time in his life, he knew exactly where he belonged. He dove and twisted, his dark soul consumed by his power, and he left the ruined scene behind him, allowing the Academy to burn until it was nothing more than a scorched memory.

  Part 2

  Evanescence

  20

  Emory

  In a split second, her world had deteriorated around her. The girl who was worried about her first crush, bored of waiting for her future to begin, and intrigued by the prince from across the Black Sea was gone. The metal collar constricted her throat, and she choked, her breath coming out in labored wheezes. The monster dragged her deeper into the dark enchantment of the winter forest. It had picked up its pace, constantly looking behind them as if expecting to see the army born from darkness chasing at their heels. If she was being honest with herself, she did as well.

  Dried blood coated her skin as she looked to her chained wrists, expecting to see her parents’ faces staring back up at her about to scold her for her un-princess-like conduct during the feast. Tears brimmed her eyes, and she felt the panic claw up her throat thick and fast as her world and her mind spun. They were gone. Gone. Stripped away from her, laying her soul bare for all. She forced her feet to move as the sharp slashes of betrayal cut deeper and deeper into her heart. She replayed again, again, and again what had happened.

  She had tried to escape with Marquis when the killing had begun. One moment he was helping her up, the next the screams shattered through her, and then with a sweep of darkness, the lights had gone out and Bresslin Stratton had exploded into the room, snarling as the army had rushed in behind her.

  All she could do was watch, entranced in the darkness as the screams climbed and climbed, breaking around her. Marquis had grabbed her hand, dragging her, yelling at her, and all she heard was the sharp ringing slicing through her hearing, the sensation of her body leaving the ground, and Marquis’s comforting warmth radiating through her. He was the only person Emory had ever encountered that she could touch without the rush of ability of draining a person’s life force, of being not just her, but her power. It was anchoring amongst the chaos. Almost comforting.

  Tadeas had roared to Marquis, “This way, hurry!” They had cut across the space and her stomach churned repeatedly as the darkness closed in on her.

  She was having a panic attack. Cold sweat clung to her body, and she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get away from the sounds of her friends and family being slaughtered around her, of forces that she didn’t understand playing against her. Of her parents’ best friends destroying the dream they had worked so hard to build to achieve peace. They had almost reached the King of the Shattered Isles when a lancing pain flared up her calf, and she was ripped away from Marquis.

  His scream, his voice, repeated through her. “Emory, no!” Her head cracked against the ground, and she dug her nails into the cool floor, trying to stop. Her nails gouged, scraping against the floor, but it wasn’t enough and she was quickly ripped away as she screamed. It lasted one second before she was drowning. Her captor’s magic shivering through her, clouding her mind, clogging her senses. It was an ancient and cruel understanding as it cut through her, and as she stopped, she slammed her boots hard against its chest. She lashed out, punching and clawing, screaming in frustration. Decayed fleshed connected with her jaw, slapping her head back as stars erupted in her vision. The cool snap of metal froze her as she felt the collar lock around her neck and wrists. A flame flickered between them as she was wrenched to her feet.

  “Well, look what I have here.”

  This thing was born from the eternal depths of darkness with saggy, grey flesh and eyes that bore into her soul. It smiled as Emory cringed. The rest played out before her in flickering moments as she fell into shock.

  The chains were spelled, neutralizing her ability, and she was dragged through the war of the Academy. Warm blood dripped down her leg as they wove and wove until they raced through the tunnels and hallways, breaking through to the courtyard. It was chaos, the charging assault of the remaining students, being torn through and ravaged. This world was made from ice and blood, and she was ensnared, the thorns ripping and gouging her. The
creature cut through the edges of the fight, growling to her, but she didn’t hear a word. It could have been minutes or centuries, but one voice brought her slamming down into reality,

  “Well, it would seem we meet under unlikely circumstances.” Bresslin Stratton circled her with a hunger burning in her eyes.

  She lunged, the chain snapping back as her body was whiplashed.

  “You will want to keep that fight for as long as you can. You will need it.” With that, Bresslin had continued to kill everything she loved, her home, and her future. And all Emory could do was watch. For the first hour, she had fought, pulling and snapping at the chains. The second, she had stood there as ice and ash floated through the air, clenching and unclenching her hands until she ripped into her palms. The third, the doors exploded and her heart nearly crashed out of her chest as she spotted Memphis and Brokk in the throng of the fight. She collapsed to her knees as student after student fell, the storm raging around her, whiting out what she knew had happened. They are not dead, not dead, not dead.

  And then the storm had stilled, and the creature tugged at her chain, growling in pleasure. Lumbering forward, her body complied in shock as the metal dug into her flesh. Jutting her chin out, she stood tall as they walked through the army of rotting flesh and gleaming eyes that scoured her, ravished her. They had created a pathway, their rumbling eagerness of snapping maws. Jutting her chin out, she practically growled back. Her heart plummeted as she saw why the contagious tension rippled amongst them.

  Brokk locked eyes with her, screaming words that she didn’t register. All she saw was his golden eyes burning molten, the grief, rage, and determination. The world bled away, and it was only them. She saw in him everything that fiercely coursed through her. It was the briefest second before he ripped his gaze away, and everything crashed around them. She swayed as he shifted, the core of her roaring as he charged toward them, the army closing in, and she was roaring at him to stop. She couldn’t lose everyone she loved.

  The chains snapped back, and the creature rumbled, “You are coming with me, little heir.” Swiveling around, she slammed her boot hard down on the creature’s leg, her calf screaming as her wound tore open more. Sweat coated her skin as she threw her body weight backward, pulling toward Brokk. He was lightning streaking across a stormy sky, and she cried as he was closed in, his fur covered in blood, and she became feral as he stumbled. The binds that held her to her humanity untethered as he fell.

  “No!” Her voice cracked, and she was spinning into that eternal blackness that clutched the edges of her world, dragging her down. There was a crack like thunder and she snapped her head up, homing in on the completely obliterated doorframe of her home. Adair stood there, looking out at the courtyard with a cool hunger that made him predatory. And the world exploded into flame. She was wrenched back, clawing at empty space as she watched her oldest best friend turn into someone she didn’t recognize.

  She looked to the creature as he forced her to stumble after him. “We have to go back! I don’t care if you bloody kill me, at least let me save my friends. Please.”

  It stopped for a moment, flashing her it’s grotesque teeth. “You really don’t know? Your friend back there is the reason your parents are dead. And is the reason that the darkness that once held the world will rise again.” She balked, and he laughed, tugging her harshly. “As I said, that is our cue to go.”

  They plunged down the rolling hill, and she swallowed hard against the bile clawing its way it up her throat. No, no, no. The forest loomed before them, looking like a city carved from ice, and as they ran into its cover, all she could smell was smoke and ash.

  Blinking away the memory, she sucked in a breath as she took in the forest around them. Shivering against her shock and the bitter cold, her fingers turned blue and her mind desperately tried to plan. With chattering teeth, she growled. “Where are you t-taking me?”

  “Back to my lair.”

  “What are you?”

  It snapped at her, “An ancient creature that has been long forgotten. I have been trapped between time waiting for this day to come. Usually I take a blood price to feed my magic. I’m sure you know, little Fae, that our power is always give and take.”

  Her mind raced as she pieced it together, the only creature she knew from myth that took a blood price. A seer, and exchanger of truths. A myth, a legend. “Gortach,” she whispered more to herself.

  He rumbled, “Clever girl.”

  She was sure early hypothermia had set in, her limbs becoming more sluggish with every second and her mind diving into the betrayal. Adair killed your parents. He killed your parents. Licking her cracked lips, downy flakes of snow shook off the trees, drifting lazily toward them. One landed on her nose, melting, the icy droplets turning pink from the dried blood as tears slipped down her face. How did she not see the change in him? Each day he had become more withdrawn, each day he had pulled further and further away, how did she not see it? That all along, he was the nightmare. The threat. She looked forward, steeling her heart. If the Gortach didn’t kill her first, Adair would.

  The snow crunched underneath their feet, and they wove through the trees, deeper and deeper into the heart of the woods. Hours must have passed, and they were lost to what was happening. It was an amazing effect, how entering the forest was like entering another world, everything peaceful and quiet when outside its confines the world was being ripped apart. Stumbling she landed on her knees, throwing up in the same moment. Tears stung her eyes from the force, the foul acidity filling her senses.

  “Get up!” The Gortach snarled, but she couldn’t move. The iciness of the snow held her, and she bowed her head. Tremors raked her body, and she was frozen. “Pathetic human, move!” He pulled as she fell face first in the snow, ice shards tearing her skin. That’s when she felt it. The sharpness in the air, the churning of energy. Gravity left her, and in a flash, she was being held up against the Gortach’s chest, his inky talon pressing against her throat, poised to end her. Vomit and blood covered her as she swallowed, her gaze roaming the seemingly empty woods. The wind picked up, blowing more snow off the branches as the Gortach roared, “If you want her to live, come out now!”

  It was a split second as Memphis stepped out from the dying light, his blond hair matted and stained as he roared, “Now!” The snow around them shifted state, turning into water as the wind became savage. The trees bowed as the water rose and rose, gathering into a roaring wave. She saw two figures behind the water, their green hair sparkling. The wave crashed down, and they were both succumbed, drowning on land. Water speared through her chest, knocking the wind out of her as she was dragged down with the Gortach, the chains binding her, the collar cutting off her oxygen. She felt his talons rip through her clothes, clawing at her back.

  Frantically kicking her legs, she tried to swim upward, her chest burning. It expanded and expanded, her ribs straining against the pressure. Water filled her nose, and, panicking, she opened her mouth as water filled her lungs searing. Dots filled her vision, and she was dragged deeper, the chains pulling her down, down, down. All she could see was the dappled water as the afternoon light filtered through it, and Emory knew she was going to die. The thought filled her and weakly she kicked her legs again, fighting against every fiber in her body. Flashes of memories filled her, her parents’ voices ringing in her mind, the last words they ever spoke to her. And she fought. “You will learn that greatness does not come from a country’s acceptance or even a crown. You will see, Emory, that greatness comes down to a person’s decisions and what they choose to stand by. Even when all odds are stacked against them.”

  Fire burned through her, and she wondered if Adair thought he was on his path to greatness. Darkness pulled at her, and she clawed toward the surface, any surface. There was a flash before her, imploring green eyes, and a strange guttural voice as it yelled, “Ceol!” Pressure was loosened from her wrists, from her neck, and she felt her body suspend in the water, floating up. Hands f
rantically clawed around her waist, and she surged upwards, through time and space. Maybe this was what dying felt like, a freedom, a fierce peacefulness. Her eyes were closed, and she felt herself climb, up, up, up. Until they broke through and freezing air assaulted her. Her eyes flashed open, and Marquis’s face filled her vision, his forearms pressuring down hard on her chest. He hissed in pain, his wrists bound in makeshift splints, and she gazed at them, wondering who had hurt him. Once. Twice.

  Sputtering, he rolled her onto her side as water spewed from her lungs and she dragged in painful breaths. “Good, Emory. Listen. Breathe. Listen to my voice and breathe.” More voices circled around her.

  “Memphis, will you shut up? He just saved her life.” Brokk.

  “Oh, and you’re so trusting all of sudden when we all almost died for them!” Memphis.

  “Will you both shut up? We don’t have long.” Tadeas.

  Relief coursed through her violently as she coughed up more water, her body vibrating from her wet clothes. “Emory, you have to lie still for me for a second, okay? We have to get your clothes dry.” Marquis’s voice was soft, and she closed her eyes, exhaustion crippling her. Her best friends argued around her, not trusting the prince. She didn’t understand why. Over the course of the last couple of weeks, Marquis not only intrigued her, but he had been a steadying force by just being him.