Ariiaya
Her hand glided over the cool sheets beside her as she emerged from sleep, the surprise of finding them empty pulling her quickly to consciousness. “Elijah?” she called around a yawn, sitting up and stretching. Her mind wandered to the night just passed, the gentle kisses they had shared just before drifting to sleep wrapped up in each other. For the first time in her life, Arii had felt content… as if she were truly home. At first, she had thought home to be a place or a building, but she soon realised it didn’t have to just be a place, it could be a someone too.
Thanks to her swift Fae healing, she seemed to have escaped an alcohol-induced headache, thank the gods. Instead, her heart began to increase its tempo. When no answer came to her call, she looked around, eyes narrowing as she noticed his clothing – which had been draped neatly over the back of the nearby settee when they had retired for the night – were gone.
“Guard,” she called, and a soldier opened the door and poked his head into the room.
“Miss?”
“Where is Prince Herington?”
“He exited your rooms a little while ago, Miss Trillia. Said he’d be back but it’s been an hour or two now.”
“Has he called a meeting with Prince Brolikian?”
“Negative, Miss. The prince is still retired.”
Dread began to pool heavily as her eyes drifted to the dark world outside her window. There was the faintest trace of light over the gardens below, hinting that the rising sun was not far away.
“Send word to ready a ferry and two horses, urgently,” Arii barked, and the man nodded before disappearing.
Could he have slipped away to meet with Lorch, despite her expressing that it was an extremely bad idea?
Arii swiftly dressed, and as she pulled her tunic over her head, Nem blew into her room – dressed and ready with steel at her hips. “He’s gone, hasn’t he?” her best friend said simply.
Lips pressed into a hard line, Arii did not need to respond as the woman continued. “I can feel your distress, your anger, Ariiaya. If we are swift, we may just prevent a war from starting right at the border.”
Arii had confided in Nem last night and told her all about the letter. Krepth had been near, so she had told him, too. They had taken the same stance as she – agreeing it was definitely a trap.
Shit.
She didn’t dawdle, hoisting pack and weapons over her shoulder as they moved quickly down the dark hall. Krepth soon joined them, lifting his hood as he appeared, from the room which she swore had been assigned to Nem. Their link told Arii all she needed to know about their relationship, and she knew that they had been harbouring feelings for some time. Nem and Krepth, like herself and Elijah, butted heads frequently, but she knew they adored each other fiercely, and she also knew, like herself and Elijah, they felt that undeniable pull to one another – like moths to flame.
Arii’s fear reached a crescendo, bringing with it a knee-jerk response of anger. “I should have known he was contemplating meeting him. He was distracted last night. Goddess, how could I have been so blind?”
“How long ago did he leave?” said Krepth, keeping pace as castle servants passed them in the halls.
“Not long,” Nem checked the straps of her weapon belt as they went, “But we need to hurry. Valdis may have him already. Gods know that Lorch would not be meeting Elijah alone and would have brought a force with him.”
Arii’s chest tightened further with fear for him, making her breaths short and sharp. Would they execute him right on the outskirts of Border Town? Or would the take him back to Viridya and make an example of him? Knowing Valdis’ taste for theatrics, Arii assumed the latter.
She pressed her way out into the crisp morning air, sucking in small, measured breaths as they headed for the harbor. She did not have time to hyperventilate, they needed to get to Elijah as quickly as possible.
As they alighted the steps that lead to the docks where they had arrived days before, she was thankful to see a small barge with horses safely tethered to sturdy poles, ready to transport them. As the ferryman signalled from the shore that he was about to sail, they hopped aboard, drawing up their cloaks.
“As quickly as you can, please,” urged Nem to the man, and he nodded as she pressed silver coins into his wrinkled palm.
The short trip over the waves seemed to drag as Arii leaned over the side of the ferry, hair flying in ripples behind her as she urged it on.
Once on the barnacled docks on the mainland, Krepth’s hand gripped at her sleeve. “Arii, we cannot just barge in, we need to scope out their forces first.”
All rational thought faded from her head as visions of what they could be doing to Elijah flashed before her eyes, and with those thoughts in mind, she turned on her friend with a snarl on her face. Before she could say anything, Krepth grabbed her hand and held her fingers tight. “We need to approach with caution, little Fury. Nem will remain in town, and if all goes to shit, she will know because of her connection to you. She can begin an evacuation of the people there if need be.”
Gods, she had not even thought of the innocent townspeople, who would be caught in the crossfire should a battle begin. She cursed her single-minded focus in that moment as she nodded to Krepth, offering a quick, appreciative smile.
Then she chewed her lip as her gaze darted from her friend to the road leading out of the town.
“Let’s hope it won’t come to that. Quickly, we need to hurry.”
Elijah
He looked like the Lorch he remembered, yet he also did not.
The man sat astride Caviar, the black stallion Elijah once claimed as his own, and he sat with a rigid back. Lorch’s eyes were hard as ice – their depths filled with the shadows of inescapable horrors that he had no doubt seen, and shiny with betrayal. His copper hair lacked its usual healthy shine, and his cheeks were sallow – the bones protruding sharply beneath eyes bruised with emotional exhaustion.
Flanked by a severe looking man with closely cropped blonde hair – no doubt Elijah’s replacement – and a contingent of undead, who swayed in wait of their orders. Within the mass stood a Kryvern, a large tear on its chest where a Nexus Crystal replaced its heart.
Elijah met them in a morning mist, a lone figure of one against dozens.
He had retained hope that Lorch would meet him alone, peacefully, but now he realised it was but the hope of a fool. He would not attend this meeting alone. Surprisingly, Elijah noted that Valdis was nowhere to be seen.
Perhaps he would have a chance to sway Lorch after all.
Lorch pulled the reins of his mount as the beast stomped its hooves in agitation, the light of dawn glinting off his gold crown as Elijah stepped from the brush, hands raised as the King’s forces shifted. Glowing blue eyes snapped his way – yet the animated corpse soldiers did not move to attack.
Lorch’s eyes swept the empty space around his old friend, lip twitching as he spoke, “You were always one to follow orders to a fault, Elijah, I see that has not changed.”
“What has changed is your lack of integrity, Lorch.” He nodded towards the soldiers, “You said you would meet me alone.”
“And leave myself defenceless to Fae scum? Unlikely.”
“Those are not your words, Lorch, but those of someone else who has been blinded by hate and blood.” His meaning was not missed on Lorch, who shifted in his saddle, brows narrowing.
“She is not with you,” the King whispered.
Elijah knew who he referred to. It was not a question, so he did not answer, instead waving a hand towards the bodies surrounding Lorch. “Come down from your mount, brother, let us speak on level ground. I will not hurt you, you have my word.”
Lorch passed his eye over the man at his flank, the commander, who replied wordlessly with a shake of his head. When the King’s gaze fell on Elijah once more, his face was further devoid of emotion. “No, I do not trust you like I once did, Elijah. You paraded by my side under the guise of a human man, but unbeknownst to me you were in fact the very thing we have been working to eradicate.”
“Eradicate? Lorch, listen to me, the Fae are not a threat.” He suddenly thought better of his next words, changing his mind as to not give away those hiding away in secret. “There are no males left.”
“Until you.”
“I had no knowledge of what I truly was. No memories of my past to figure that out.”
Lorch’s hand cut through the air, and he bellowed, “Liar! You are a fucking liar! It is so obvious now. The hood, the hiding of your face. Gods, how could I have been so blind!”
Elijah held his head high – even though the words punched against his heart as if it were a straw dummy in a training ring.
“You knew you were different, and you never once confided in me. You were my brother in every sense but blood!” Lorch continued, spittle flying from his lips as anger overtook him.
“And how do you think that would have gone down with your father?” Elijah shot back, anger bubbling within him too. Anger and hurt, not only for what he had put his best friend through – but for the secret he had been unknowingly harbouring for so long. “Once we figured out who I was, he would have killed me, Lorch.”
“I would not have allowed it!”
“Yet you allow him to desecrate innocent lives and bring them back with the magic we feared for so long, all to fill the ranks of his army. His army, Lorch, not yours!”
“He is protecting us–”
“From what?” Elijah bellowed, stepping forward, “From an uprising of evil? Lorch – he is the uprising of evil that you all fear, and his is going to destroy this land and all we hold dear.”
Lorch’s hands pressed to his temples, as if the words physically inflicted pain.
Elijah swallowed, hating seeing his friend so tormented. Taking a step forward, he lifted a hand, pleading. “You can help us end the darkness before it consumes us all. Come with me, Lorch. Magic is wild and wonderous, not at all what I once thought. Not only can it heal mortal wounds, but it can make life better. Let me show you what I have learned. Please.” He did not mention the possibility of madness with the amount he possessed, but that would be a subject to broach if he could calm Lorch’s building storm.
Elijah summoned his power with his hand outstretched, generating a sparkling crystal ball of light on his palm. The ball gradually transformed into the image of a stag, rearing on its hind legs as sparkles glistened around its antlers. “See?”
Lorch was silent for a few moments, watching the display as the soldiers shifted around him. Then his eyes lifted to meet Elijah’s. What Elijah saw within them was haunting. A flash of desperate pleading mixed with the slightest spark of surprise.
He was still in there somewhere, he had to be.
Lorch shifted, squaring his shoulders as he whispered, “It is too late.” The words were so soft that had it not been for Elijah’s heightened hearing, he would not have caught them.
“Guards, seize the traitor at once.”
The magic dissipated and Elijah’s hands fell to his sides. The few men who were not mindless shells converged towards him with weapons drawn.
“Over my dead, stinking corpse.”
She stepped from the forest behind, daggers already drawn and eyes alight with purple fire.
Ariiaya.
She shifted to stand in front of him, and Elijah saw Lorch’s eyes narrow at the sight of his old flame. Tongue darting across his lips, Lorch’s hands tightened on the reins as he leaned forward. “That can be arranged. Hello, my dear saviour.”
His eyes shifted again and Elijah tilted his head to see Krepth appear beside him. The Shifter met his eyes briefly, his gaze telling Elijah everything he already knew. You couldn’t expect her to stay back.
Arii hitched her chin, no fear and all determination as she stared down the small army before them like they were nothing, her body language screaming what words need not.
If you want to hurt him, you’ll need to go through me.
“Lorch, listen to him. You know your family has no true right to be on the throne. Your father orchestrated the slaughter of Elij… Eliverus’ family – the rightful rulers of the north.” Arii’s voice carried across the short clearing as she stepped forward. “Please, allow him to take up his place upon the throne and bring back balance to Fythnar.”
Elijah was surprised she had allowed this brief time to negotiate. But he did not need to see her face to know that emotions were raging through her at the sight of the King. She cared for him, deeply.
“Please, Lorch, let’s talk about this.”
There was a pregnant pause as Lorch frowned, his throat working on the words. Elijah could see that he was fighting a war within.
Finally, the golden King said, “You didn’t kill me, even though that was your reason for being in my castle in the first place. Why?”
“Why?” Arii didn’t mask the pain in her voice, letting it coat her words. “Because I grew to care for you, Lorch. And I learned quickly that you weren’t deserving of your fate.” A pause, before she swallowed audibly. “I still care for you. I never meant for things to go the way they did, I never meant to hurt you–”
“But you did!” bellowed Lorch, causing the bodies behind him to twitch with phantom agitation. “You broke me, you tore my heart apart.”
Arii’s head shook. “I’m so sorry.”
Elijah stepped forward, his fingers lacing with Arii’s as he moved to her side, a united front, always. “This does not need to end in bloodshed, Lorch. Stand down your army.”
Lorch’s gaze dropped to their clasped hands, a quiver on his lip. When Elijah followed his gaze, he felt dread knot in the pit of his stomach as Lorch muttered, “This was always going to end in bloodshed, Elijah.”
Elijah realised his mistake.
Lorch had been waiting for confirmation of his relationship with Arii, and he had just given it to him. The simple gesture of their twined fingers spoke volumes. Elijah should have known that Lorch’s infatuation with Arii would cloud his normally clear judgement.
It was about her, and always had been.
“Lorch,” Elijah warned, feeling a shift in the air as the King nudged his mount, twisting to his commander.
“Seize him! Seize them both, bring them to me alive!”
The soldiers and undead charged, just as a crow cried and took flight overhead.
Krepth shifted with a flash of light, maw agape with a ripped snarl, hackles flying up as Arii and Elijah armed themselves.
The undead were upon them first, their eagerness at being unleashed making them frenzied. Dressed in armour and armed with swords, they moved with wicked swiftness and chilling screams.
Arii flew forward first, a blur to Elijah’s eyes as she used her blades to slam the first man’s sword aside. The thing faltered with a cry and before he could recover, her blades were crossed at his neck. With one swift jerk, the daggers severed its head from its neck, showering her leathers in black blood. Arii booted the soldier in the chest, a feral snarl tearing from her bared teeth.
Once he would have blanched at the ferocity he saw in her. Now… now he saw her as she was.
A fucking goddess of war.
Elijah summoned his power, the snap of sparks alighting on the blade of his withdrawn sword as he met two human soldiers, a black blur showering him in dust as Krepth flew at another undead man. The two humans he struck swords with were wide-eyed behind their helmets, the reflection of blue highlighting their fear.
As he angled his sword to block their unified blow, Elijah pleaded, “Stand down and you will not be harmed. You are only following orders – I am trying to prevent what has befallen your comrades!”
“We can’t,” is all one of them said, his voice familiar as they reformed their assault.
Sykes.
They targeted his flank as a third moved in to circle him. A clink of metal drew Elijah’s attention, a pair of heavy manacles glinting in the morning light.
Iron.
Abandoning thoughts of reasoning with them, Elijah snapped into offensive mode. He could feel the shackles near, as if the air around them were being absorbed into them like a sponge. He could not allow them anywhere near him, or Arii.
He hurled himself at the men, connecting the pommel of his sword with the guts of one, watching him crumple like a sack of bones before he stuck out at Sykes with a punch of magic. Sykes flew backwards through the air, landing heavily at Lorch’s feet.
The soldier with the shackles stood rooted to the spot, knees quaking like a newborn foal.
Before Elijah could act, twin blades thumped through the man from behind, their tips peeking through slowly blooming flowers of blood on his heaving chest. The man jerked and crumpled, revealing a heavily breathing Arii behind.
The man hadn’t even been armoured properly, he realised with a start.
The undead soldiers though wore glimmering plate armour splattered with gore where they lay headless. It was bleakly obvious to Elijah then that Valdis valued his already dead men over those who used up his precious resources.
“It seems you will not come willingly – so I will offer you a deal.” Lorch cried.
Elijah prepared himself for a second onslaught, or perhaps the unleashing of the Kryvern salivating in the wings of their battalion.
With a wave of Lorch’s hand, two soldiers brought forth a person in chains.
Elijah’s heart leaped into his throat, and it took every ounce of will to keep his face emotionless as the soldiers dragged his mother to the head of their contingent.
Colleen.
Her hair was matted and her usually immaculate maids’ uniform soiled with holes and blood. She had been their prisoner, and they had not been gentle. Anger warred with sudden hatred inside him, but all that surfaced on the outside was grief.
Taking a step forward, Elijah lifted a hand, his voice gruff with emotion. “Mother?”
Colleen, despite her frail frame, shrugged against her captors, and her gentle eyes met his. Defiance was alight in their depths, depths he knew so well, which shimmered with love for the boy she had found in the forest. He was not her son by blood but she had cared for him like he was her own. She had saved and raised him without a word of complaint, watching him grow and thrive, even though she must have known he was different.
“Eli, you cannot go with them. You must not. Do not worry about me.”
Elijah’s voice shook. “Let her go!”
“If you come with us now, no harm will come to her,” Lorch shifted, watching the exchange with a strange look in his eyes. A look Elijah would later register as apprehension and doubt. Lorch knew this woman like a second mother, her kindness extending beyond her adoptive son and to everyone who knew her.
He would not harm her.
Surely not.
The men shoved Colleen to her knees on the road, and one drew an axe – the sound grating down his spine like nails on stone. The Kryvern shifted nearby, nostrils flaring at the scent of acrid fear and tension on the air, flanks quivering with anticipation of blood.
Elijah shifted, so close to agreeing to Lorch’s request – the words on the tip of his tongue as Arii’s hand gently touched his arm. “Elijah, you can’t go with him. You know that.”
Swallowing back bile. He knew her words to be true.
But he had to save his mother.
“We can come to another arrangement, Lorch. No one needs to get hurt.”
“No one will get hurt if you submit.” He drew out the word in a snapped hiss.
“I cannot. You know I cannot. If I do, darkness will descend upon the north and the rest of Fythnar will follow.”
“Then you leave me no choice.”
Lorch’s words were soft on a sigh of resignation, and without hesitation he turned to his soldiers and lifted a hand.
Colleen braced, spine rigid, wisps of hair slicking against her face, fingers clutching the dirt as her pleading eyes locked with her son’s and she whispered, “Be the man you were always meant to be. Bring back magic.” She jerked forward against her bonds as she yelled, “Long live the true King of the North, Eliverus Herington!”
Then she whispered, “I love you, my son.”
And the axe came down.
Silence.
His mind was nothing but droning silence.
Buzzing filled his ears, drowning out all other sound as her head hit the dirt with a thump. He blinked, trying to comprehend what he was seeing as the world warped into slow motion.
He shouldn’t have come here.
This was all his fault.
All his fault.
Her body slumped to the ground, blood gushing from her severed neck in rivulets, blooming a swift pool of crimson around her still-twitching form. Her head came to a stop a few feet away. Light brown hair fanned around her face, sightless eyes turned to the sky, her jaw slack in a silent scream. Never to breathe again.
No.
No.
No no no no no.
Beside him, chaos reigned as Arii’s scream shuddered against the numbness seeping through his mind, through his body and into his bones like acrid mist. The buzzing intensified, and Elijah dimly registered Arii’s hands grasping before she was wrenched away.
Something sprayed against his neck and the side of his face, a showering of blood that shot from a soldier’s slit throat under Arii’s striking dagger, but the feeling barely registered.
He just stared at her body.
At his mother’s headless, lifeless body.
She was dead.
The realisation hit him deep.
And he ruptured.
Numbness within his chest flickered to an ember then swiftly erupted into an inferno as Elijah’s glassy eyes lifted to his childhood friend. His best friend. Once his King. His brother.
Then he welcomed sheer chaos as pain – as overwhelming rage – took over.
His scream was inhuman as he fell to his knees and allowed the magic and the madness to take over.
Elijah’s fists slammed to the dirt, his bellow bringing forth sheer oblivion as the earth trembled beneath their feet and magic rocketed out in a raging blanket of blue fire.
The Kryvern and the soldiers that rushed them vanished into quivering mist, as if they had never existed, nothing but fine bloody dust on the soil, taking out half of Lorch’s force in the blink of an eye.
The King’s mount reared with a cry, and Lorch held on as the ranks of his soldiers blew into disarray. Fissures snaked out from where Elijah knelt in the soil, tearing open, swallowing numerous undead soldiers into the earth.
The King’s eyes flew over the chaos, seeing his forces diminishing with each passing second.
“My King!” yelled the commander. “We must retreat!”
Lorch seemed to retain enough sense to realise the man was right.
“Fall back!” He grasped the amulet from under his tunic and lifted it into the air. The stone within flared with light as he commanded, “Back to the castle, now.”
His gaze found Elijah once more, and even with the distance and the pandemonium lashing the air, Elijah heard his words as if spoken by his ear. “Let this prove my worth to you, father.”
With a cry, Lorch spun his horse, sending the mount barrelling in retreat.
Sheer agony warred with blinding anger to leave him numb on all fours, images flashing before his eyes as he dragged himself towards his mother.
Colleen tending to his wounds after taking him in, placing cool cloths against his skin as his little body battled against the trauma of his ravaged skin.
The blinding pain of too much magic seared his veins, tore at his lungs and nerve endings as white dotted his vision, yet he forced his arms to work, to bring him closer to where she lay.
Colleen brushing his mop of hair over his ears and dusting dirt from his knees. “You are different, Elijah, and being different is not such a bad thing.”
He drew near, tears pricking, dirt mixing with blood on his hands as he stared down.
“They will not pick on you forever, my little Prince. Never let others allow you to feel any less than what you are, and that – my son – is someone bound for the extraordinary.”
His hands began to shake, vision blurry with burning hot tears.
“Death is a part of life, Elijah. One day I will no longer be here in body – but I will always remain with you here.” She pressed a hand to his teenage chest, on a day he had felt incredibly alone.
Pain had his breath coming in shuddering gasps as he brushed Colleen’s hair from her sightless eyes.
She grasped his hand and held it tight, her eyes like granite as she pressed a hand to his chest. “Steel your heart and trust what is inside you, Elijah.”
How could he trust his heart when it was now surely and irrevocably broken?
He could feel the agony tearing through his steel defences; defences he had only ever let slip for a handful of people.
Now, he no longer cared to guard himself.
Tears cascaded down his cheeks as Elijah whispered his fingertips over his mother’s eyelids, leaning into the mud to press his forehead to hers. As his sob broke the silence of the clearing, a woman stepped into his vision, blocking a ray of the midday sun.
At first he thought it was Arii, coming to help ease his agony after the army’s retreat.
But something did not feel right.
His eyes trailed from the woman’s immaculately polished boots up the pitch-black assassin’s garb to stop upon her face.
It stole the breath from his lungs.
For the face he saw was that of his long dead sister.
“Ghila?”
His sister’s lips curled in a sardonic smile as she stepped forward. Her hands clasped his face, nails digging into his skin as she said “Hello, brother.”
His pain peaked to something beyond agony, beyond this realm, turning his mind to shadowed dust.
She forced her way passed his sundered defences and into his mind, sinking her talons deep as darkness took hold of all he knew. Everything he was. Everything around him. Shock allowed her into his mind as easily as stepping through an open door. She was a black tidal wave of darkness, her mind a force of acidic madness as his vision clouded at the edges.
He began to scream.
The last thing Elijah saw was his sister’s wide, steel grey eyes – so much like his own – as a blackness claimed him.
Taking him away.
Ariiaya
Before his retreat, Ari swore she saw regret in his expression as Lorch kicked his heels into his mount and the remnants of his battalion turned to flee. That small, fleeting look spoke volumes, and told Arii that there was still a slither of the man she knew. If only she had the chance to speak with him, but amongst the pandemonium, that was not possible.
This had not gone the way she thought it would, at all. She had expected a trap, but not the murder of his mother and then Elijah’s complete combustion that turned half Lorch’s contingent into bloody mist. No, absolutely not.
Elijah’s yell rose high in the clearing. Arii wrenched her blades from the chest of a fallen solider, wiping the weapon on her blood-stained pants as she twisted and broke into a run to find him.
There, on the road beside his mother’s headless body, a woman leaned over his shaking form, her hands clasping his face as tendrils of darkness slithered around her like black ink.
Confusion quickly overtook Arii’s panic as the woman spoke to Elijah. “Rise.”
That voice, she knew it – still heard it like a ghost in her nightmares. A long-nailed caress that broke skin and left blood in its wake. The wraith. This was the wraith who had plagued her mind, who whispered doubts and promises of death.
Elijah began to stand at her command, head bowed, static sizzling along his bloodstained leathers as he turned to her.
Slowly.
Painfully slowly.
Arii saw the wicked smile that afflicted the woman’s beautiful face as she shifted behind him, her features but a flash as Arii’s focus honed solely on the face she knew so well.
On the eyes that saw through to her soul.
They had changed. Flat, devoid of the glitter of life that usually pierced the grey storm. Now nothing but clouds, pupils disappearing behind hazy mist set in low-lidded orbs. Soulless, like granite.
His eyes were not his eyes at all.
“Elijah?” Arii whispered.
His face – his face was not the same either. As a slow smirk curved the corners of his lips in a look she had never seen before, she felt something tear apart in the depths of her soul, to leave nothing but a feeble thread behind.
A blanket of frost shuddered over her heart as Elijah blinked, nothing but a promise of cold death in his eyes.
He smiled in a way that was wholly unfamiliar.
This man was not Elijah.
The man she knew, the man she loved was gone.