Nightsong

by Vella Wolf

  Copyright © 2021 Vella Wolf

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  ISBN: 9798718659665

  Cover design by: Vella Wolf

  Editing by: Narelle & Max

  Proofreading: Imogen & Blessi

  For Ben, without your love and eternal patience, this wouldn't have been possible. Thank you for putting up with me.

  For my grandparents, Else and John, there wasn't a single creative outlet that you didn't support. I wouldn't be who I am today without your compassion.

  And for Darko, your encouragement and friendship meant everything to me. I hope that somewhere out there, you are finally able to read my mess.

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 1

  Smoke danced through the branches of the great pines looming above my head. The wind was gentle and the birds, silent. My senses buzzed as I tried to pick up everything from the gruesome scene before me. Several wagons smouldered. Blood was everywhere. Too much blood to belong to the five mangled corpses we had found in the ruin. All the possessions of these people were either aflame or scattered amongst the glade. I gritted my teeth as my eyes caught a glimpse of a singed doll. Children.

  “Sabyr, are you getting anything?”

  I turned to a pair of dark blue eyes, glistening with curiosity. Frowning at my brother, I placed a finger on my lips, ushering him to silence. He blushed under my scowl, and I returned to the task at hand. Closing my eyes, I pricked my sharp ears. The crackling from the burning wagons greeted me first, then the caress of the breeze. There were no footsteps, cries, or even the presence of an animal. I opened my eyes and bowed my head, breathing in the smell of the damp earth. Smoke and blood filled my senses. Amongst the stink, a hint of something different brushed my nose.

  “Kero. There is an off smell. But I can’t quite identify it.”

  “Could it have been bandits?” he asked.

  I shrugged at him. “Maybe. But all this blood... It’s human, but not of our kind. These people are all Terra Sule from the South.”

  Kero’s face began to pale. “Do you think they were fleeing? Brother hasn’t heard from the Tiersal royals in over two weeks. What if the Solair have already taken the capital?”

  I shuddered as if a chill had caught me. The Solair, elves of sun and flame, their domain lay in the far southern desert. For almost a year, they had been encroaching on our sister country Tiersal. While we had sent support in the form of supplies, the king refused to outright ally with them. Our country, Seranel, had its own wounds to tend.

  I placed a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. We need to keep looking.”

  With a grunt, my brother walked to the other side of the glade. Avoiding the pools of blood, I stepped closer to a mostly intact crate. Running my fingers over the lid, I pried it open. Worn clothes, a few books. Nothing of real value. None of this made any sense. These people weren’t merchants. They were barely worth robbing, let alone butchering.

  “Sabyr! This trail of blood goes off into the woods. There could be survivors.”

  I paced over, taking in the path of blood extending into the woods. “Or at least another clue. Just be careful. The birds are frightened. I don’t think the danger has passed.”

  We stalked ahead, Kero in the lead. As we prowled through the growth, the trail of blood was beginning to thicken. Branches and vines were snapped here and there, signs of a desperate escape. Around a bend, the pines opened up into another small clearing. A figure, no, two figures huddled together under a tree. A woman with sun-touched skin cradled a small child. Blood seeped from her side.

  “They’re still alive!” Kero called.

  “Wait!”

  He raced across the glade, ignoring my warning. Tentatively I followed behind, scanning the trees. Relief washed over the face of the woman as Kero came into her view. As I stepped closer, that relief quickly vanished. Fear filled her eyes as she took in my appearance. Even after all these years, I wasn’t used to this reaction. While human enough in face and body, my ears betrayed me. A little bigger than my brothers and pointed. The sign of my mother’s sin.

  The woman clawed at the dirt, clinging to her child, trying to get away from me.

  “Have no fear. We are from the capital Ahnell in the Staglands,” Kero soothed.

  The woman stopped clawing, but the mistrust in her eyes did not fade.

  “Please, can I take a look?” he asked, pointing to her wound.

  She nodded. “Only you,” she rasped.

  Kero slowly bent down and lifted the cloth from the wound. It was deep. “Ugh, if only Dion was with us!” Kero cursed.

  Unlike our brother Dion, neither of us had been blessed with the gift of healing. Our god Arndell, the Stagfather, had become increasingly sparing with his gifts.

  “We need to get her to a healer quickly. If we circle back to Chatu, we should be there within half an hour,” I said.

  Kero nodded. “I’ll carry her, and you take the girl. A shame we didn’t bring our mounts.”

  I grimaced. It was my idea to go on foot and leave our kital behind. Despite being the mount of choice for our people, the idea of riding one into potential danger had never sat right with me. Hefty, deer-like beasts with temperaments sometimes matching a boar. My kital, in particular, swayed to this demeanour. Truth be told, I wasn’t very fond of her, and I got the impression the feeling was mutual.

  The woman let go of the little girl, and Kero pulled her to her feet. She leaned on his shoulder, and blood began to run out of the wound. Kero’s eyes darkened, and I turned to the clearing, scanning the ground. Pulling out a knife, I cut out a chunk of blackish moss from the forest floor. Edging closer to the woman, I held out the moss to her.

  “I’m not going to hurt you. If you let me, I’ll place this in your wound. It should stem the bleeding.”

  She glowered at my request and nodded reluctantly. I gently pushed the moss into the cut, the woman hissing at my touch.

  “Time to go,” I said, gesturing to the little girl. But she shivered in the crisp air, reluctant to leave. Unbuttoning my cloak, I wrapped it around her. Warmth came to her hazel eyes, and I held out my hand to her. She went to take it, but her fingers froze a few inches from my palm. The warmth in those eyes began to fade, and fear started to creep back. The fear wasn’t for me.

  “I told you th
ey would lure something else to play with.” A harsh female voice.

  I turned, and not one but four tall, golden-skinned elves stepped out from the trees. The Solair! They were that strange odour. Idiot! How had I not smelt them when I walked into the clearing?! Kero placed the woman back on the floor and stepped in front of both Terra Sule. The elves slowly stepped closer.

  A male dressed in leather armour, with eyes and hair like flame spoke. “But not quite the prey we were looking for. Looks like a Seren Kel and a dirty half-breed.”

  Kero bared his teeth. “What in all of Ahmanrah are you doing here? Coming here is an act of war!”

  The elven male yawned. “I don’t answer the questions of lower beings.”

  Drawing his sword, Kero roared, “I am the son of—”

  With a quick flick, I smacked Kero firmly in the chest, cutting his words. I glared into his eyes, silently sending him a message. If they find out you are a prince, that title will get you killed.

  “Oh, what was that? Sounded like something interesting,” a blonde, long-haired female cooed from the back.

  “Enough,” the other male commanded. This one was dressed in light mail, shorter but well built. Dark green eyes glared as he faced me. “We came here to retrieve our property. Simple as that.”

  “The cargo?” I replied, confused.

  “No. Those men and women are escaped slaves. It is our right to reclaim them. Hand them over, and we will be on our way.”

  I turned to Kero. His eyes widened. The Solair claiming slaves so close to our border, that would mean…

  “As by right of war, we have taken the province of Tiersal. Its inhabitants are our claim,” the elf continued.

  My hands shook on the pommel of my sheathed blade. Oh Stagfather, no. They finally did it. Tiersal was theirs. How did they take it so quickly? We were certainly next.

  “You still entered our lands without permission. You cannot have these women,” Kero snarled.

  The elf shrugged. “Then you leave me no choice. Sarmai, take care of the girl, Rukin the boy.”

  Twisted smiles spread across their beautiful faces. The lightly armoured male and the long-haired female stalked across the glade like predators cornering a meal. I drew my longsword as the elven woman clipped on strange gauntlets with fingertips like claws, a risky choice against a sword. Kero’s opponent pulled a large scimitar from a bejewelled hilt. He slashed the blade through the air, his stance both threatening and confident.

  “Stay close to me,” I whispered to my brother.

  He nodded and tightened his grip on his blade. The elves closed in on us, and it began. Sarmai charged at me, slashing wildly with her claws. She was so fast, faster than anyone I had fought before. I managed to dodge and parry blow after blow, but there was no way I could keep it up. Her claws bit into the edge of my sword, forcing me down. With a sharp push, I knocked her back. She snorted and leapt away, avoiding my follow up.

  The elf stood tall, bound in desert cloth and leather. Snarling, she flexed her hands. The metal on the gauntlets creaked and snapped. I dared a glance at Kero. Rukin’s blows were fierce, draining Kero’s stamina. He wouldn’t last long. My attention snapped back to Sarmai as she lunged at me with feline prowess. Once more, I blocked her claws with my blade, but the strength in her blow caused me to stagger back.

  Weapons locked, the elf leaned in and smirked. “You’re not so bad, halfie.”

  Rage swelled in my gut; I hated that word. I tried to force her back, but a sharp pain arched through my stomach as Sarmai’s knee landed in my gut. I spat and staggered back, not tearing my eyes from her for a second.

  “Accursed scum!” I spat at her. No frown, no anger. The cursing seemed to please her. Large canines grinned at me from beneath her cruel lips. My blood boiled, and with all my might, I kicked the elf in the shin, forcing her to buckle. Swinging recklessly, my blade arched, slicing a shallow cut across her arm. Blood, the colour of sunlight, seeped from the wound and Sarmai’s golden eyes turned feral. She pounced on me, knocking me to the ground like prey. I could hear Kero call my name. My sword went flying out of reach. I was going to die.

  Like a beast, she panted over me. “That was quite the lucky shot.”

  I bared my own fangs at her.

  “Such a pale, pretty little throat. I wonder what colour your blood is.” Using her index finger, she ran a claw down my neck. I could feel my warm blood running across my skin.

  “Crimson. How boring,” she pouted.

  Flexing her fingers, she drew back her right hand, ready to strike. Inconspicuously, my hand felt for a small dagger strapped to my pants.

  “Sweet dreams, little halfie!” she cooed.

  Her claws stopped an inch from my throat as I managed to jam the dagger into her side. Wailing, she tumbled off, gasping in disbelief at the wound. The short-haired female screamed. Rukin halted his blows and gaped as Sarmai’s golden blood poured onto the ground. The burly male frowned.

  “That is enough!” he bellowed.

  “You want us to back down?! You can’t be serious!” Rukin growled.

  “Sarmai needs healing. Half dead slaves aren’t worth one of us.”

  “You can’t mean to let these humans go!” the short-haired female cried.

  “The tide will come for them soon enough.”

  Silence enveloped the glade. Sheathing weapons, Rukin retreated to the others, and the burly elf stepped forward to Sarmai. Jumping to my feet, I picked up my sword and threatened him.

  “Leave us be, and you’ll live to fight another day,” he said calmly.

  Blistering pain burned in my neck and gut. He was right. I could barely handle one, let alone four. I backed away, allowing their leader to move to Sarmai. Gently he picked her up and held her to his chest, mumbling something to soothe her. With one last look, the four turned and began to leave the glade.

  “Cowards!” Kero called after them. They didn’t even flinch. His brows furrowed, “Sabyr, are you alright?”

  I ran a finger down my neck. The bleeding had already stopped. “I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.” I turned and eyed the Terra Sule woman. “They said we weren’t the right prey. What did they mean?”

  She paled and rasped, “We were not the only ones to escape.”

  The Solair were an arrogant and proud people. Losing property would be an affront to their pride. The clanging of metal disrupted my thoughts as I watched Kero’s hands shake and struggle to sheath his blade.

  “They are coming for us, aren’t they?” he stuttered.

  I looked at his terrified face. He was two years older than me, a young man of twenty-four, but when he gave me that face, it felt like he was eight all over again. I didn’t have the heart to tell him what he already suspected.

  “We need to report to the king,” was all I said.

  Once more, Kero hoisted the woman onto his shoulder. I reached out to the little girl, and she took my hand. With hurried steps, we began our return. First to the village, and then to our eldest brother.

  Chapter 2

  Our footsteps echoed throughout the hallway as Kero, and I approached the study of the king. The woman and child were safe in Chatu, and with great haste, we had returned to Ahnell, our home. Two armoured guards stood at the door to the study. They eyed us warily, but upon recognition, they pushed open the large elaborate doors revealing the king’s domain. Shelves of books covered every wall, paper lay scattered across the floor. The only window in the room was covered with a dark blue curtain. I wrinkled my nose as the heavy smell of dust hit me. My half-blood had always made my senses sharper than the humans around me, both a boon and a burden.

  Sat at an oaken desk illuminated by candlelight, a young man scrawled through paperwork. Running his hand through scruffy red-wood locks, my eldest brother raised his head. A smile crept across his face as soon as our eyes met.

  “Sabyr! Kero! Apologies. I have been doing this for hours. I am a little absent-minded.”

  “Your Highne
ss,” I said as I bowed.

  “Sabbie, I’ve been telling you not to call me that for four years now,” the king grinned.

  “I know Elren, but your advisor Wickam is quite adamant that I do,” I smiled in return.

  “And I’m quite adamant that you should ignore that old prune. Now the messenger told me you were returning early but not why… wait…”

  Elren’s soft blue eyes spotted the cut that ran down my neck. Scrambling, he rose to his feet and walked over to us. With gentle hands, he pulled at the top of my bloodstained leather vest, examining the cut.

  “Who did this? Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asked softly.

  “Elren, we have bad news,” Kero explained.

  Footsteps sounded behind us.

  “One moment. Dion is due to join us,” Elren said.

  The great doors pushed open once more and Dion, the second eldest of our clan, walked through. Dressed in dark blue robes, Dion was a tall and slender young man. He had a body trained for healing, not combat. His long ebon hair was braided, and his fringe partly covered one pale green eye. Dion had eyes just like our youngest sister, Celia. Eyes just like our mother. Behind him, another followed. A shorter balding man. A long-time advisor for our family, Wickam.

  “Ah, you’ve come to join us as well, Wickam,” Elren said.

  “If this is serious, then I’ll hardly leave you young ones unsupervised,” Wickam scoffed.

  Elren smirked, and Kero frowned. Wickam could be firm and harsh, but he had a good heart. For years he had assisted our grandfather, our father, and now us. To be honest, he was indispensable. When both our mother and father died to the withering four years ago, Elren was forced to become king at the tender age of twenty-two. With Wickam’s help, Elren had flourished into a wonderful king, and the nobles had been kept at bay. I admit I was a little fond of Wickam, even though he was less fond of me. I couldn’t blame him for feeling that way.

  Once everyone had moved into the room and the doors shut firmly behind us, Kero continued. “We met with the Lord of Chatu to discuss border security just like you asked. However, while we were there, villagers reported smoke from the wood. Sabyr and I decided to take a look.”