Alliance

By E.V. West

As the battle between the Ocean and Sky Realms rages, Princess Marilla's heart breaks with each day that the waters of the ocean are stained red. She's thought of as little more than a naive child, and so her desperate pleas for peace go unheeded... until one day when she is put in the curious position of saving the life of one of the enemies from the sky city.

General Etan, well known for his prowess in battle and for the scores of lives he has taken, is intimidating. Despite fearing for her life as she tends his wounds, Marilla finds that her stubborn determination works in her favour as her passion opens the general's eyes to the possibility of peace.

Little does Princess Marilla know that General Etan of the Sky Realm's winged army, could be the gods answering her prayers. Only with his help can they forge an Alliance between their two worlds, and only then can they face the greatest threat known to either of their worlds.

If it is worth fighting for, it is worth dying for – she hopes it will not come to that.

• Language: English
• Publisher: E.V. West
• Release date: Jan 18, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201997380

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

The sound of battle filled General Etan’s ears as he sat tall atop the pitch-black dragon, her scales shimmering with gold and orange flecks, in the morning glow of the tri-suns. Together they were a sight to behold; his white iridescent wings and olive skin, against Zoyo’s enormous ebony wings, often left the enemy quaking.

He surveyed the ongoing strife across the battlefield. His soldiers had been excited as they stood in the courtyard of the castle only moments earlier. Their dragons felt and mirrored their emotion, with puffs of fireballs and ear-piercing screeches. As his briefing concluded, the air became charged with anticipation.

The king approached Etan and they shook hands. Etan bent his head out of respect. The two men had been through more than words could ever say and a mutual respect had been forged many years ago. The king mounted his violet and scarlet-stained dragon. The grey streaked hair of the king reminded Etan that he was not a young man, but he was still nimble and could rally with the rest of them.

From their vantage point on the pavilion, Etan and the king gazed out over the courtyard. The soldiers below were joined by crowds of Helion people, who threw irises and lilies at the feet of their protectors; their perfume wafted around the castle on the morning breeze.

King Corentin held his hands high and the drone of excited conversation stilled. This war has gone on for so long and our enemies seek to destroy us and our way of life. Let us not forget that it was they who started this war when they murdered your beloved queen and princess! They who entered our homes under the pretence of friendship, only to then take that from us, which we held most dear. No, we did not start this war, but we will end it, no matter how long it takes. We will defend our home and our loved ones so that, never again, will we be caught off-guard by their lies.

Etan raised his sword at the king’s words and shouts of agreement echoed in the courtyard. As glowing swords were thrust skyward, the dragons puffed fire and screamed their excitement. One after the other, they took to the air, flower petals mixing with dust and swirling around the courtyard, as the crowds applauded.

The sky grew dark as his soldiers and their dragons took flight. Turning, he offered a hand, For our way of life, my king and for your honour.

Etan, you are my most worthy General and your stories will be told for generations to come.

Etan spurred Zoyo on and her huge wings unfolded. As she took to the air, Etan felt her muscles toiling beneath his thighs, the power in her astounding. Said to be the last of the shadow dragons, she was awe-inspiring. Not only were shadow dragons known for their fierceness, but they were said to be the most loyal dragons known, which is why they seldom paired with a rider. The bond between dragon and rider was so strong, that death of a rider often meant the death of the dragon.

Zoyo rose high above the castle. Folding her wings in behind her, she bulleted through the air toward the fight and at the last moment, opened her wings to slow almost to a hover. Her wingspan was impressive by any standards and often the last thing a foe remembered before being attacked, was the shadow that fell over him.

As they engaged in the fight, all around them arc blasters flashed and swords glowed and pulsed as bright as a sun, clanging against their opponent. The war continued as it had done for so many years - the Sky people on their dragons against the Aqualites on their sea monsters. It did not take much to spark the fighting and the battle was always brutal. The Helion were hardened warriors while the people from the ocean realm relied on their stealth and technology. Both people were determined and steadfast in their beliefs and in what they were fighting for.

Corentin watched the battle below. War was always a tragedy because so many lives were lost; it was never taken lightly. No virtuous king longed for war however, it was a necessary sacrifice to protect one’s people.

Etan caught his eye. He was the most trusted advisor and the most skilled warrior he or Helios could ask for, his prowess in battle unrivalled. However, Etan was more than that and Corentin held him in high regard as a friend.

Memories of his queen’s face flooded his mind. Rosanne lit up a room and her ocean-blue eyes sparkled, making you feel like you were the only person in the room. She was so kind and cared for everyone in the realm; from the cook to her own daughter, everyone was important and special to her. She was easy to love.

When Roseanne and their daughter, Mira, were torn from his life, Corentin spiralled into despair. For the longest time, he had felt nothing but sorrow and emptiness. During those many dark cycles, he had barely left his sleeping chamber, drinking himself into a stupor every night, Etan had kept watch over him.

Etan had made sure that Corentin had space and time to grieve but kept close enough to bring him back from the abyss when he felt that life was no longer worth living. It was a difficult time for all, but Corentin knew that without Etan, he would not be alive today.

Etan’s lightning sword glowed. He wielded it with skill and without hesitation and all in his path fell. His dragon was so in tune with his master’s attacks, that Etan could fight without directing her. It left him free to fight and he used his wings to stabilise himself or launch in closer when needed. This kind of efficacy on the battlefield only came with years of experience, built on never-ending training. It was not hard to see why Etan held the king’s favour, on and off the battleground.

Corentin, atop the deep purple beast he called Rasul, watched from a distance as the conflict thundered on below. He watched as the skill of his men meant the toll was in their favour and that the feasting tonight would no doubt be one to remember. He watched on as...

The look on Etan’s face was the first indicator that something was wrong. Face frozen in horror, his fingers traced the scorched wound in his chest. Disbelief gave way to a grimace of pain and without a word as if in slow motion, he slipped off Zoyo’s back. In a split second, the beast realised what had happened and let out a reverberating screech, as she dropped from the sky to try and catch up to her fallen rider. Tucking in her wings tightly against her torso to gain as much speed as possible, she hurtled toward the ocean, desperate to save her master.

Corentin gaped as he watched Etan fall. Zoyo did everything she could to get to him in time, but with all the fighting obstacles in her way, she was not quick enough. As if his heart had stopped and blood frozen in his veins, he could do nothing but watch as Etan, eyes wide, slammed into the water and sank below the deep blue waves. Helpless, he could do nothing as his most favoured General’s armour, glistened in the sunlight before fading out of sight as the water engulfed him. Expressionless, his face revealed the devastation as loss pierced his heart once more.

A sharp squeeze of his thighs urged Rasul downward to where the wailing dragon circled. Zoyo’s wings skimmed the waves as she searched for any sign of life. Her shrill cries rang out, as she called loudly to her master, over and over again. But Etan was lost to the depths.

Scanning the waves from above, Corentin was soon joined by Etan’s trusted second, Amell. While no match for Etan, Amell was a formidable warrior and destined to one day take over from the captain. Giving him the order to fall back, Corentin prayed to the gods once more, that Etan’s replacement would not be needed for many risings, although the tightness in his chest belied his confidence.

Amell pressed a minute unseen device implanted behind his ear and called for every available pair of eyes. Within mere moments, they were loosely surrounded by the Helion army, the war forgotten for now. The focus turned now to every wave crest and each glint from the sun, for any sign of Etan. With reinforcements now at hand, Corentin could not help the memories of his fallen family, from flooding back as hopelessness crept once more into his soul. His mind flashed back to the memory of running down the castle hallways, heart pounding in his chest, having heard only the words, Come quick – it’s the Queen.

After what had seemed like an age of running down endless corridors, he had burst through the doorway or their private quarters, coming to a screeching halt at the scene laid out in front of him. Frozen in place, he was not able to move or speak or breathe. The first thing he had noticed was that the floor was stained with crimson-red blood. As if everything else was greyed out, he recalled how the blood had been so glossy and so red that it seemed like everything else had faded out to the background. Had blood always been so red?

Unable to prevent what came next, Corentin had taken another step into the room as his focus moved to the two people who lay motionless ahead of him. He had not needed to see their faces to know that before him were the bodies of his wife and daughter. One foot in front of the other, he had inched closer, squelching through the already congealing, slippery pool now surrounding them. He remembered the feeling of not being able to catch his breath and of being oblivious to everything else around him.

Dropping to his knees, he had scooped up his wife into his arms, clutching her to his chest, rocking on his heels. His gut-wrenching wail had echoed across the realm. His cries were filled with the agony of what he had seen but his heart begged for it not to be true. While he had not noticed at the time, those in the room with him had averted their eyes, not only out of respect but also because the vision in front of them was so soul-destroying, that they could bear to watch it.

He had pleaded with the gods many times to take him instead, but they were silent. Tears had streamed down Corentin’s face as he was reminded of the exact moment his heart shattered and a piece of his soul died. Kneeling in a pool of their spilled life-force, he had leaned over and pulled his daughter into their combined embrace, sobbing unabated. Lost in grief over the days that followed, he begged the universe for a reason for this heinous tragedy. No answers came.

In the time following his family being stolen from him, Etan had proved his worth as a loyal soldier but more importantly at that time, as a true friend. Now, the sight of him falling from the sky brought back those awful memories of pain and helplessness and Corentin was not sure he would survive again.

Amell led the search party. Every available soldier and dragon were rallied as he barked out instructions; the unprecedented search continued. Corentin knew that the setting of the first tri-sun meant darkness would come all too quickly. They needed to do everything possible while the orange globes were still visible. He watched Zoyo in a frenzied search for her master and her heart-breaking cries pierced him to his core.

Sire, Amell said, the suns wane and we are losing the light. We risk too much if we stay out much longer.

He knew Amell was correct but the thought of giving up on his friend left him with a sense of betrayal. Would Etan give up if it were him lost?

We will return at first light, Amell spoke softly.

First light, he repeated, resigned. He knew it was the right thing to do since the army was exhausted and needed to eat and rest. But even after Amell had called off the search and everyone had turned back for Helios, staring out at the vast ocean, he said a last prayer to the gods.

CHAPTER 2

Marilla and Jilonc bobbed on the surface. Flashes of blaster fire pulsating across the heavens, serving only to highlight the blood-stained the waves, licking the border between the Sky and Ocean realms. Cries of pain interspersed with of the ongoing sounds of battle above, were deafening. Eyes shut tight, palms flat against her ears, Marilla fought to block out the visions of death churning in her head, mixing with the cacophony of noise. It threatened to drive her insane and she could bear it no longer.

Spurring her dragon to life, they dove beneath the waves. The water offered little resistance to Jilonc’s streamlined body, as the pair sped through the water. They snaked around reefs and under archways covered in coral of every shape and size imaginable. As they raced around large outcrops of rock, schools of multicoloured fish darted away in all directions and feather duster worms retracted their feathered umbrellas, within a split second of the large dragon whooshing past.

A large, ragged-tooth shark whipped his tail with a thunderous crack, at the dragon’s unexpected presence and proximity. Neither Marilia nor her beast noticed, each lost in their own thoughts.

After what seemed like a full tide, they burst through the surface, Jilonc snorting breathlessly. Marilla patted the blue-green scaled neck, as the tri-sunlight shimmered off the water streaming from her sleek body.

She spoke softly. Sorry, Jilonc. I did not mean to push you so hard. The dragon seemed to drop her head in understanding. I just get so frustrated with my father and sometimes I feel like just getting away from it all. Jilonc’s breathing settled and the panting changed to a purring hum. Will he ever see me as more than just a child, my friend?

Marilla closed her eyes, trying to force her mind to settle and enjoying the tri-sun's warmth as it caressed her face. With a deep breath the fog of familial frustration lifted and she realised that the sounds of war were now faint, replaced with the recognisable sounds of crashing waves. In an instant, panic threatened to take root as she swivelled around, trying to get her bearings.

The realisation of their position hit her and without hesitation, she jerked on the two soft tendrils in her hands and drove Jilonc beneath the water again.

We should not be this close to land, my friend. Let us get back into safer waters as quickly as we can.

As they descended, the light faded and the cooler waters embraced the duo. Releasing the lungful of fear that she had been holding, the water washing by her skin readjusted her calm exterior, although Marilla admonished herself inwardly for allowing them to get too close to the dry land. It was reckless and she knew that it could not be allowed to happen again.

Neither in a hurry to return to Aqualon, they played on the ocean currents and watched a shoal of eagle rays glide effortlessly by. Eventually though, Marilla knew she could not avoid heading back to the city any longer.

Able to delay the inevitable no longer, they turned and headed home when something flashed in the distance. Squinting, she peered through the water and was about to dismiss it for ocean-life, when realisation hit - it was a man. As sunlight glinted off his armour there was no denying that not only was it a man, but a soldier and he was sinking fast.

Without a second thought, she dropped low onto Jilonc’s neck and clung tightly as she sped her dragon toward the fallen soldier. Deeper and deeper, the sapphire blue dragon powered through the water, desperate to catch up to him. He sank like a stone without flailing or any recognisable attempt at swimming back to the surface. It may be hopeless since he was already submerged for so long, but she had to try and help him. Yes, I noticed the wings, she thought.

After what felt like a whole tide, Marilla reached the man, her heartbeat thumping at her temples. Before Jilonc could come to a stop, she launched herself off the beast and snatched him up, cradling his head in the crook of her arm. Searching his face for any signs of life and finding none, she kissed him.

With lips sealed tightly against his, she clamped his nose between her trembling fingers and took a deep breath. Marilla began to inhale the water from his lungs, the sounds of her focussed breathing rhythmic and deafening. As she searched his face for any sign of life, she inhaled deeply again, expelling the water through her gills.

When no more water came from his lungs, lips still sealed over his, she drew in a long, deep breath of the ocean around her, gill slits throbbing as the water filtered over them. Then, precious life-giving air was exhaled back into him. Long, slow, steady breaths, she kept some of the oxygen for herself and gave him the rest.

He tasted... different.

First, a weak pulse and then the weak pulse grew stronger, as his body flinched, feeling the oxygen-rich blood coursing through its veins once more. With a wave of her hand, a small air bubble surrounded his mouth and nose and, as she released his mouth from hers, he immediately took a deep breath before coughing and spluttering the last remaining water from his lungs.

Hold on, she whispered.

Etan’s nightmares were dark; screams of the dying merged with the expressionless faces of the dead, all swimming in a sea of blood. He cried out for it to stop, but no one answered.

He woke in a cold sweat as the images of fallen kinsmen flooded his mind. Before could reconcile the dreams, the pain searing through his chest brought new memories to bear and he recalled the moment the energy blast hit him. He looked down at the scorched, gaping wound in his chest, his mind unable to accept his fate. It could not be true; he could not die this way. He was General Etan.

Zoyo grew ever more distant, her cries ever fainter. The sounds of fighting became subdued as his vision focussed on the white puffy clouds above, so beautiful and soft against the turquoise blue sky. He felt himself slipping away before realising that he was literally falling.

In a split second, the beauty of the sky he loved so much, disappeared from his vision, replaced by panic that squeezed his chest, preventing him from taking a breath. Etan slammed into the water and the most excruciating pain he had ever felt coursed through him. Screaming out in pain, he was sure that his body was being torn limb from limb. His wings took the brunt of his landing and he gasped for air, but the vice on his chest would not relax its grip.

The sky disappeared altogether and the light gave way to blurred, filtered light. Etan recalled the cool water enveloping him and for an instant, it felt soothing against his battered body. However, the panic rose in him once again as the realisation struck -he was sinking.

He wanted to move, to swim to the surface, but no matter how hard he tried, his body would not heed his commands. Streaks of sunlight danced in front of him as he gazed upward, paralysed. However, it was not long before the light faded completely, giving way to cold darkness and he realised he had no more pain. The end had come and Elysium awaited.

Etan’s eyes fluttered open and he squinted against the brightness of the light around him. He tried to raise a hand as a shield while his eyes focussed, but he winced as pain wracked his body and a wave of nausea hit him. With his arm draped over his eyes, he searched his memories for a clue on what had happened, but as the memories flooded back, another wave of nausea forced him to roll over. The pain was insurmountable as darkness threatened to take hold again.

After expelling what felt like half the water in the ocean, Etan focussed on settling his breathing, closing his mind to everything but the sound of his lungs working. In and out. In and out. Was he dead? No, surely there would be no pain in Elysium and by the gods, he was in a lot of pain.

Slowly, he widened his focus. The smell of salty sea air and the sound of gentle lapping of waves against rock, combined with warm tri-sunlight on his skin, cooled by a soft breeze, meant he was not indoors. After a moment, he peered through his eyelashes until he grew accustomed to the light. Damp, dark, ragged walls of a cave surrounded him on three sides and heaved with little crustaceans, all scurrying around in search of food. A large pool of water in front of him, gave way to the gaping mouth of the cave, beyond which lay the deep blue of open water.

Tapping his comm device behind his ear, he called out, Amell, can you hear me? Amell? No answer. Desperation forced him to try again, calling out seemingly to himself, Amell? Anyone? Can anyone hear me? But still no response was forthcoming.

Moving deliberately, he looked over his shoulder to inspect his wings and cringed to see that they were in bad shape. They ached and he was missing feathers. Discoloured and inflamed skin suggested severe bruising at the least, however, they were not misshapen, so he was hoping nothing had been broken.

Using his hands, he tested the rest of his body. There was not one part of him that was not in pain when touched, but he was grateful not to feel broken bones. Several abrasions covered in dried blood dotted the rest of his body, although they seemed to be minor injuries. A green substance was pasted onto a few of the worst abrasions and wounds. It was gooey between his fingers and smelled of the ocean. What looked like kelp, was wrapped around his chest, covering the wound where the pulse weapon had hit him. He lifted the kelp just enough to examine underneath it and wrinkled his nose as he saw the same green salve under the makeshift dressing.

Etan put the pieces of his situation together, although he still had no memory of how he came to be in this cave, or who had tended to him. Lying back, he recalled a sea nymph who had been a character of his hallucinations. She had been so beautiful, her skin glowing against the darkness. She had kissed him and the cold had been replaced with a warmth that had spread throughout his body. Just before everything went black, he remembered gazing into her emerald-green eyes. Had it been a dream? Could she have been real?

That would need to be a puzzle for another day though, for now, he needed to find a way home. Trying to move as little of his body as possible, he scanned his surroundings, searching for anything that would be of use. He had not noticed it before, but next to him on a rock was a large, shiny half-shell filled with liquid. He picked it up and sniffed its clear contents.

It’s just freshwater, he heard a soft voice say.

Startled, he turned quickly to see where the voice had come from and instantly regretted it. Etan grimaced as pain shot through his body.

Careful now, the voice said again, you have taken quite a fall and your body needs time to heal.

Glancing up through the fog of pain, he immediately recognised the emerald-green eyes of the nymph of his dreams. Her skin had a pale lilac hue, streaked with iridescence that seemed to shimmer and pulse along furrowed lines on her skin. It was breath-taking until he realised that she was not a nymph at all - she was an Aqualite.

Etan tried to scramble away from her, tugging at the kelp bandages as he moved.

No! Stop! she almost yelled as she dropped to her knees beside him, holding the dressings firmly in place. I’m trying to help you, she sighed.

He froze, gaze fixed on her. What are you doing to me, sea witch? he asked defiantly.

Helping you, she said slower than she needed to. He stared blankly back at her as her hands moved to fix the dressings back in place. I pulled you from the sea and dragged your enormous body onto the land - which I hate by the way so thank you for that, she said sarcastically, swatting his hands away as he tried to feel what she was doing. "Do you really think I saved you and treated you, just to then poison you with healing balm? She rolled her eyes. And since we are speaking plainly, she barely came up for a breath which amused him, you have been unconscious for two days so if I intended to kill you, I would have just slit your throat and been done with you. I would not have waited for you to wake up first."

He did not say anything more as she busied herself with checking his wounds and replacing his bandages with fresh ones, content to watch her work. Her touch gentle against his now purple-blue mottled skin, as she scooped fresh gooey salve onto her fingers.

I am grateful, he said softly, I did not think I would see another sunrise.

She paused, Well I guess that is the hazard of war. The sadness in her tone was evident and he felt somehow that that comment was directed at him.

We do not choose to fight with the Aquatics, you know.

It was her turn to recoil. I detest that word; it is so derogatory and quite frankly, unimaginative.

I apologise, he said, "Aqualites, we do not like to war with