The Lost Dreams: A Collection of Nihryst Short Stories: The Nihryst, #3.5

By Cait Marie

In a world full of ancient magic, betrayal, and those seeking a place to belong, darkness is spreading.

 

A lonely queen loves a man she cannot have.
A soldier fights to find his family.
A merchant's daughter tries to prove her worth.

 

But not all hope is lost.

 

When a thief and his crew are caught and cursed as immortals, forced to join a war they have no part in, a prophecy is set in motion. The stars have determined their destinies; they have connected them all across the kingdoms.

 

And one day, their truths will be discovered.

 

One day, a stubborn princess will decide her own fate, and she won't stop until every last one of them is set free.

 

~*~*~
Welcome back to the world of the Nihryst! This exclusive collection has five short stories and twelve bonus chapters told from various characters' points of view. Some can be read on their own, but others do go with the first three books and contain spoilers. They will be marked appropriately, giving plenty of warning!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cait Marie
• Release date: Dec 8, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201003852

Cait Marie

Young adult/new adult author Cait Marie has enjoyed reading and creating stories her entire life. Her debut novel, The Lost Legends, released in 2020, and since then, she’s been publishing and writing in a variety of genres. From adventurous fairy tales to fluffy romance to dystopian sci-fi, and everything in between, she enjoys it all. Cait is the creator and manager of the book blog Functionally Fictional, works for YA Books Central, and offers several author services, including editing, proofreading, formatting, graphic design, and personal assistance. She has a BA in forensic psychology and an MFA in creative writing, both from Southern New Hampshire University. Basically, her life revolves around books, but she also enjoys music, bullet journaling, and Disney movies.

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The Lost Warriors - Loxley

130 years before The Lost Legends

Chapter

One

His feet slid across the loose gravel as he pulled himself around the corner of a building, nearly dropping the bag hanging from his shoulder. The bay glistened at the bottom of the hill, mere blocks separating him from his escape. Footsteps pounded the cobblestone streets all around. The sound of clanking armor and people rushing to get out of the way echoed off the stone buildings.

Loxley ran down the shadowed, narrow alley, keeping his goal in sight. He glanced over his shoulder to see a dozen of the king’s guards trailing behind him. Trying to slow them down, he grabbed onto a stacked tower of crates and shoved it to the ground as he ran by. He was yards from the open docks, where his crew waited for him on the ship.

Or so he thought.

As soon as he stepped out of the alley and into the sun, guards came at him from both sides. He turned, looking for a way out, but the men who had followed him caught up. Guards surrounded him from every direction. With the water ahead as his only option, Loxley took a deep breath and prepared to jump. But when he stepped forward, a path cleared among the guards to reveal his crew. Ropes and chains restrained each of them. One guard held a dagger against the throat of Loxley’s second in command, Briar. Though his crew subtly nodded for him to go, he knew he could never leave them. After all, it was him the guards truly wanted. Slowly, he lowered the bag of stolen goods from his shoulder and raised his hands in surrender.

The guards grabbed Loxley, bound his hands, and hauled him and his crew to the castle dungeons. They forced him into his own cell that kept him separate from the rest of his crew across the narrow aisle. Bitter air seeped through his clothes as he sat against the stone wall. With his head in his hands, he ignored questions from the others. His crew didn’t know how the guards caught them, but he did. And it broke his heart. The grief suffocated him. Only one person outside his crew knew of his plans.

It wasn’t long before half a dozen guards returned and led Loxley upstairs in chains. He squinted through the brightness, adjusting to the stark contrast from the dim dungeons now below his feet. He expected them to bring him to the throne room, where the king would inevitably give him a death sentence. Instead, the guards shoved him to his knees in a small council room. The king sat before him, surrounded by a handful of advisors and the queen beside him.

Loxley stared at the reflective marble floor until a hand grabbed him by the hair and forced him to meet the eyes of his two oldest friends. The king rubbed at his jaw, staring at him. Afraid of what Loxley would see in her eyes, he refused to look at the queen.

Leave us, the king ordered his advisors. One by one, they trickled out of the room, and the few remaining guards stepped back to the nearby wall. When the door shut, the king asked, Why, Loxley?

His words sounded sorrowful, but Loxley knew better. From the corner of his eye, he saw the queen fidget in her seat and wring her hands together. He took a deep breath and shook his head at King Henri. There was no answer he could give that would change the man’s mind if it was already made up. He knew that better than anyone.

Will there at least be a trial for my crew? Loxley asked.

No, the king growled.

Henri. The soft, pleading voice drew Loxley’s attention. He finally met her red-rimmed eyes—the gaze of his lifelong best friend. Loxley clenched his jaw and fists.

I have already decided upon your punishment, King Henri said.

Loxley looked at him with a raised brow.

I’m not going to kill you, Loxley. We’ve been through too much together.

Loxley let out a relieved breath. A beat of silence passed, and the king cleared his throat, sitting up taller. As you know, the fighting across the sea is spreading, and Rayerna is gaining too much control. So, you and your crew will use your skills in thievery to blend in and gain information. You’re a talented swordsman; I can’t deny that.

Well, I was always able to beat you, Loxley mumbled under his breath.

King Henri ignored him. You are going to serve me for three years, then you will be banished from this kingdom.

Loxley laughed. How exactly are you going to control two dozen people who want nothing to do with you? You think we’ll willingly do your bidding?

Oh, don’t you worry about that. All will be revealed when you set sail tomorrow.

There would be no arguing, no negotiating. The king swiftly dismissed Loxley, and a guard stepped forward to drag him to his feet. Too soon, he was back in his solitary cell. A silence settled as he conveyed to his crew all that the king had said. A few tried to keep the group hopeful, insisting that they’d find a way out of their situation. Reynold, a strong, brooding man, looked to Loxley from across the aisle. The former soldier nodded in understanding—this time, they wouldn’t escape.

Late into the night, Loxley heard a soft set of footsteps approaching. He sat against the wall with his knees pulled up and his arms draped over them.

You shouldn’t be here, he whispered, not needing to look up to know who stood there.

I’m sorry.

He glanced over to find her face lit by the moonlight streaming in from the small window high in the wall. His chest ached at the sight of the queen’s sad eyes. It had hurt since he’d entered that church basement—their secret meeting spot—and she wasn’t there. When he saw a dozen guards waiting outside of O’ Chwedlau.

For most of their lives, they were inseparable—Loxley, Mariella, and Henri. They’d met as young children. Mariella was of noble blood, and Loxley’s mother worked in her home. Without any other family, their mother often took him and his younger sister to play in the gardens while she worked. Mariella had befriended them both and introduced Loxley to Henri. They immediately got along, bonding over their love for fencing and history of war.

Henri was still the prince when he discovered Loxley and Mariella’s love for one another. His jealousy had overshadowed their years of friendship, and he announced his intentions of marrying Mariella and making her the future queen in the middle of a grand ball.

Loxley had no power over the crown, and Mariella couldn’t say no in front of so many people. So, she married Henri, whose father passed away shortly after. Henri was crowned King of Detmarya and Mariella the queen.

The kingdom slowly deteriorated under Henri’s selfish rule, and Loxley made it his mission to help as many people as he could. That was how he met Briar and Reynold, then the rest of the crew.

Why did you do it? He had so many questions, but the one burning most was why had she let him walk into a trap? Why she’d abandoned their plan.

Mariella had caught Loxley stealing food from the castle kitchens, and then she’d insisted on helping. For months, they met in secret. She said she believed in what they were doing—stealing to help those less fortunate. It wasn’t until much later that she confessed she was still in love with him.

She’d changed over the years, a darkness taking over. He didn’t doubt it was from her lack of control and her power-hungry husband. Though Loxley had moved on, or at least claimed he had, he still wanted to help her. Agreeing to one last steal, they’d prepared to leave together and never return. They’d hired a ship to take them to Rayerna and planned to send for his family once they arrived.

Except, Mariella never showed up. After fifteen years of friendship, it was that betrayal that hurt the worst. Worse than the day she’d said yes to marrying Henri.

The queen kneeled as close as she could get. Leaning against the bars, she whispered, He knew. Henri found out somehow. I think he was having me followed. I thought if I wasn’t there, you’d leave and he wouldn’t be able to find you. A tear rolled down her cheek. I am so sorry, Loxley.

With a sigh, Loxley looked back down at his hands. I know, Mari, he said in a hushed tone. I know you are. They sat quietly together, neither speaking. Before she stood to leave, he reached out and gently squeezed her hand. A soft sob escaped her, she kissed his knuckles once, and then disappeared into the night as silently as she’d come.

Heavy clouds filled the sky, reflecting the somber mood of Loxley’s men as the guards forced them down to the docks. Fear churned Loxley’s stomach when they neared the ship that would take them across the sea and they stopped before the king and queen. Beside the two stood Henri’s mother and younger brother. Though it had been years since Loxley last saw the former, he knew Louis well. The prince had remained friends with Loxley’s sister, Willa, even after the fallout with the king. Knowing Louis was considered too young to go to war by his brother comforted Loxley. He still cared about the boy and knew he would look after Willa while he was gone.

With a glance to the king, who nodded in approval, his mother stepped forward and pulled out what looked like a deck of large cards. Under her breath, an almost rhythmic chanting began as she held the cards before her. Thunder boomed overhead, and Loxley’s eyes snapped to the queen. She bit her bottom lip with worry. Everyone knew the rumors about the king’s mother being a witch—someone who practiced the old ways. Growing up with Henri, Loxley and Mariella witnessed how true those rumors actually were. It was why the woman was forced to stay hidden in the castle away from the public.

Henri, don’t do this, Loxley pleaded. When the king wouldn’t say anything, Loxley looked to the queen. Mariella.

Neither replied.

The king’s mother continued in an old, unfamiliar language. As her voice grew louder, her silver hair whirled around, and water sprayed onto the wooden planks. A tugging pressure crushed Loxley’s chest. Lightning cracked nearby as she spoke the final words.

Loxley fell to his knees, breathing heavily as the weight slowly lifted. He looked over to see his crew in similar states.

Your lives are now tied to these cards, the woman croaked. She walked closer and turned the cards in their direction. A crew member appeared painted on each one, surrounded by the swirling, gilded letters of the language she’d used. So long as your image remains intact, you shall remain whole. Never aging. Never dying.

You will serve as I said, Henri began. And no one will be able to defeat you.

To illustrate his point, a guard unsheathed a sword. Before anyone could move or say anything, he pierced the blade through Briar’s abdomen. Loxley shouted, watching his second slump to the ground. He clenched his jaw then pushed to his feet. Guards grabbed him as he lunged for the king. It took four men to hold him back.

Patience, Loxley. The king nodded to where Briar lay on the ground.

Loxley watched in wonder as his friend rose and slowly peeled the bloody shirt away from the skin beneath. The smooth skin. All traces of injury gone.

What is this? Loxley asked, looking to Henri.

I told you, you are to do my work across the sea. We will keep these cards to ensure you fulfill those three years of work. At the end, she will lift the curse. Then, you are to leave and never return.

Chapter

Two

3 years later…

Dirt sprayed across the sky as a cannonball impacted the hard ground. Briar cursed, and Loxley shook his head with a grin. As his ears rang, he yelled over the commotion, That one was a little too close for comfort.

Not that it really mattered. Time and time again they put the curse to the test, and it held. For three years, they did the king’s dirty work. They fought in battles against Rayerna and infiltrated their court, reporting back information to turn the war to their advantage. They even manipulated the kingdom into a treaty with Detmarya.

With each victory, the rumors grew of immortal warriors who moved across the land like ghosts. No one knew who they truly were; no one could defeat them. Stories spread, and they became known as the Nihryst—or shadows in the ancient magic language.

The treaty is being signed today, Briar said, ducking beneath a branch. Their small group continued through Shirewood Forest, close enough to the cliffside to see the ships off the coast but deep enough into the trees to remain hidden. Why are Detmaryan ships still firing?

Because Henri refuses to back down until that treaty is signed and in his hands, Loxley replied.

Louis met his eyes with a sigh. As soon as he turned eighteen, he joined the war. For two years, the king and his commanders made sure to keep the prince away from the fighting, only allowing him to stay with the fleets out at sea. When they ordered Loxley to retrieve Lord Vonhar, one of the lead financiers of Rayerna’s forces, from his manor in the country, the prince had insisted he come along. Since bringing in the noble was the last thing that needed to happen before the treaty was signed, and it was a relatively risk-free mission, his commander had agreed Louis could go with them.

Behind them, Lord Vonhar huffed and complained as his chains rattled. Unaccustomed to such physical exertion, he struggled through the rough terrain. Louis’s mouth quirked up on one side, and he shook his head.

It was hard to believe Louis was now only a few years younger than Loxley, thanks to the immortal curse. As was his sister. Louis had looked after her while Loxley was gone, and when he’d joined their crew for this task, he’d told Loxley all about how much she’d grown. Apparently, Willa had picked up where they’d left off—stealing for those who needed help throughout the kingdom—and he’d aided that cause. She had organized an entire rebellion from the sounds of it, using the hidden neighborhood surrounding the church Loxley had once used. Though he was proud of her, he was also terrified for her. According to the prince, their mother had vanished shortly after he did, so Willa had been on her own before forming O’ Chwedlau.

As Louis had told him all of this, rambling on and on for days about how incredible she was, Loxley could see the spark in his eyes and knew their friendship had grown too.

Despite everything with Henri and Mariella, Loxley couldn’t bring himself to hate the younger prince. He was so unlike the king in every way. Where Henri was selfish and cold, Louis was easygoing and caring. He fought in this war against his family’s wishes for the same reason he stole from them alongside Willa.

Because he truly wanted to help his kingdom.

They reached the edge of the village, where fighting in the streets continued. Shouts filled the air, along with the sounds of blades clashing. Loxley turned to Briar to go over the plan once more. They might have been immortal, but their prisoner and the prince were not. And both needed to get to the castle in one piece. They needed to make it through the chaos before them. Briar pointed to a clearing that led to an abandoned side road.

They could see the castle in the distance—a straight shot once they reached the street. Briar had been right in choosing this path. They left the melee behind and made their way west. Lord Vonhar walked in the middle of the group, both to protect him and to keep him from running. Loxley forced the prince to walk beside him as well.

Less than a block from the gate, the shouting increased once more. Loxley held up a hand, signaling the group to stop at the end of the road. They stuck close to the wall, but there was no hiding in the bright midday sun. Loxley peeked around the corner of a brick building to the main street beyond. It was so congested with fighting, fallen bodies, and debris that he could not tell which side had the advantage.

The tall, gilded gate stood closed, diagonal from where they hid. Loxley took a deep breath, looked from Briar to Louis with a nod, then sprinted toward the gate with them on his heels.

He heard the whirring before understanding what was happening. The volume increased as it grew closer, but by the time it registered, it was too late.

Get down! Loxley shouted back at his men. He dove for cover against the towering wall that surrounded the palace grounds just as the world went tumbling around him.

The cannonball hit the closest building, sending bricks showering to the street. Loxley covered the back of his head as debris fell. When it settled, he choked on the thick, dirt-filled air. He looked through the clouds of dust for his crew.

Briar, he barely managed to shout.

Over here.

Loxley spotted his second crouched over a still figure. His stomach sank, and he ran toward them.

No! Loxley fell to his knees beside the prince, silently begging the stars for him to be alive. Louis lay unmoving, half buried under the rubble. Blood spilled from a deep gash in his head. Loxley felt for a pulse, for a breath, for anything.

But there was nothing.

After three years, the crew was used to the sight of death. It barely fazed them anymore. But this struck Loxley in the heart. Louis had been like a younger brother to him for the better part of their lives. His thoughts went to his sister and how devastated she’d be to lose the man she no doubt loved at such a young age. It was something Loxley was all too familiar with and wouldn’t wish even on his worst enemies.

Loxley clenched his jaw then stood, looking for the rest