The Guardians of Altana Trilogy: The Guardians of Altana

By Savanah James

Forced from her kingdom. Hunted by chaos. Imprisoned by her enemies. Graced by the will of the gods.

 

The fate of the land of Thraes rests heavily on the shoulders of Elven princess, Ara. Thrust into the middle of a vicious war, Ara and her allies learn harsh lessons in love, honor, and sacrifice. Yet when the smoke clears, who will be left standing as the landscape is painted with blood? Join the gripping adventures found in this collection, which includes three full-length books:

Unleashed Shadows
Ignited Souls
Shattered Realm

Praise for The Guardians of Altana Trilogy:

"Original masterpiece... has everything you'd want in a Fantasy novel: druids, demons, curses, magick, action, and the spark of romance. And that ending. Ugh!" - Amazon Reviewer

"Must read! Woah! What a ride! Not what I was expecting but in a great way! I love the character building in this darkened fantasy realm." - Amazon Reviewer

• Language: English
• Publisher: Savanah James
• Release date: Jun 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223902553

Book preview

The Guardians of Altana

Savanah James

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Seven Stars Press

Copyright © 2023 by Savanah James

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

Contents

Unleashed Shadows

1.Chapter One

2.Chapter Two

3.Chapter Three

4.Chapter Four

5.Chapter Five

6.Chapter Six

7.Chapter Seven

8.Chapter Eight

9.Chapter Nine

10.Chapter Ten

11.Chapter Eleven

12.Chapter Twelve

13.Chapter Thirteen

14.Chapter Fourteen

15.Chapter Fifteen

16.Chapter Sixteen

17.Chapter Seventeen

18.Chapter Eighteen

19.Chapter Nineteen

20.Chapter Twenty

21.Chapter Twenty-One

22.Chapter Twenty-Two

23.Chapter Twenty-Three

24.Chapter Twenty-Four

25.Chapter Twenty-Five

26.Chapter Twenty-Six

27.Chapter Twenty-Seven

28.Chapter Twenty-Eight

29.Chapter Twenty-Nine

30.Chapter Thirty

Ignited Souls

31.Chapter One

32.Chapter Two

33.Chapter Three

34.Chapter Four

35.Chapter Five

36.Chapter Six

37.Chapter Seven

38.Chapter Eight

39.Chapter Nine

40.Chapter Ten

41.Chapter Eleven

42.Chapter Twelve

43.Chapter Thirteen

44.Chapter Fourteen

45.Chapter Fifteen

46.Chapter Sixteen

47.Chapter Seventeen

48.Chapter Eighteen

49.Chapter Nineteen

50.Chapter Twenty

51.Chapter Twenty-One

52.Chapter Twenty-Two

53.Chapter Twenty-Three

54.Chapter Twenty-Four

55.Chapter Twenty-Five

56.Chapter Twenty-Six

57.Chapter Twenty-Seven

58.Chapter Twenty-Eight

59.Chapter Twenty-Nine

60.Chapter Thirty

61.Chapter Thirty-One

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62.Chapter One

63.Chapter Two

64.Chapter Three

65.Chapter Four

66.Chapter Five

67.Chapter Six

68.Chapter Seven

69.Chapter Eight

70.Chapter Nine

71.Chapter Ten

72.Chapter Eleven

73.Chapter Twelve

74.Chapter Thirteen

75.Chapter Fourteen

76.Chapter Fifteen

77.Chapter Sixteen

78.Chapter Seventeen

79.Chapter Eighteen

80.Chapter Nineteen

81.Chapter Twenty

82.Chapter Twenty-One

83.Chapter Twenty-Two

84.Chapter Twenty-Three

85.Chapter Twenty-Four

86.Chapter Twenty-Five

87.Chapter Twenty-Six

88.Chapter Twenty-Seven

89.Chapter Twenty-Eight

90.Chapter Twenty-Nine

91.Chapter Thirty

92.Chapter Thirty-One

93.Chapter Thirty-Two

94.Chapter Thirty-Three

95.Chapter Thirty-Four

96.Chapter Thirty-Five

97.Chapter Thirty-Six

98.Chapter Thirty-Seven

99.Chapter Thirty-Eight

100.Chapter Thirty-Nine

101.Epilogue

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Chapter One

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Second Era 13899, The Royal Palace of Verisca, Therilea

Princess Ara Zypherus didn’t want her queen mother to die.

The palace healers had called King Raifeld and Ara to her bedside a few moments ago. She’d run from her drawing room with her attendants, abandoning her half-hearted watercolor work-in-progress. Tears already overflowed over her cheeks, though they hadn’t given the definitive say that Queen Adaena had departed from the mortal realm of Thraes for the heavens. Her heart had squeezed so painfully, familiar to the agony she’d experienced years before when she’d lost another loved one.

When Ara had reached her mother’s bedchambers, she halted at the threshold. Her chest rattled as she caught her breath.

Crossing the doorway meant facing her mother’s fate.

Someone cleared their throat from behind Ara, jolting her from the shock that had stiffened her limbs. She threw a look over her shoulder, catching the pitying gaze of her father’s royal commander.

His Highness is waiting for you inside, Princess, Raethin Corvus muttered. He was a handsome young elven man, with emerald eyes and russet hair that curled around his high cheeks. If it wasn’t for his bad temperament and his aloof personality, he’d have women flocking him everywhere.

But for once, he didn’t look at her with disdain. Ara couldn’t decide whether she preferred his pity.

Instead of responding, she took a deep breath, nodded, and entered the chambers.

A sitting area separated her mother’s private rooms. At least a dozen people stood within that space, closed out from the queen’s bedroom by two wide doors.

One of her mother’s attendants ran up to her, grasping her hands as she spoke.

Your mother is drawing her last breaths, Princess, she said. Please, come this way.

Ara allowed her to guide her to the closed doors. She squeezed the attendant’s hand, grateful for the comfort, as she opened the room. They’d drawn back the curtains around the bed, revealing the queen’s tiny figure cushioned by a mound of pillows and blankets.

Three people stood by the bed. Two were the palace’s head healers, and the other was King Raifeld.

The attendants guided Ara to her father’s side and let go of her hand. She didn’t watch them retreat and shut the door behind them.

Instead, she stared at her mother.

Ara had always thought her mother to be the most beautiful elven woman she’d ever met, but now the queen looked like a phantom of her former self.

Her dark chocolate locks, once thick and rich in color, were now thin, tangled strands. Her once rosy cheeks were sunken and pallid, and her lips cracked and thinned. The last time Ara visited her mother, the queen’s sky-blue eyes were milky and glassy, no longer holding the clarity that she’d once had.

For twenty years, the elven matriarch’s health declined as an elusive disease ran havoc through her petite body; a byproduct of a curse that spread to the kingdoms of Altana nearly six decades ago.

By far, Queen Adaena wasn’t the only one suffering such an illness. Thousands of Altanan people had succumbed to the plague. Some progressed rapidly, being blessed by a quick reprieve. But others suffered from the sickness for years.

Ara had already lost her betrothed and close friends to the disease. Now it took her mother.

Part of her was thankful that the queen’s suffering was coming to an end. The other part didn’t want her mother to slip from her grasp.

No longer could she hold the queen in her arms or have mid-afternoon tea and gossip about the gentry of their court. She couldn’t play the lyre for her and find pride within her mother’s smile at the sound. Nor could she speak her true thoughts to another so freely as she had her dear mother.

Ara squeezed her eyes shut, forcing more tears to violently spill.

We are waiting for the high priest to come and say the last rites, one healer said. Kilyen, if she remembered his name correctly. She opened her eyes to look at him, blinking rapidly to clear the wet blur of her vision.

We will leave you to say your goodbyes, the other healer said. Ara couldn’t recall his name. It didn’t matter now, anyway.

Her father nodded and together, they stood in silence as the healers left. She glanced over her shoulder to watch them close the door, and nearly jumped out of her skin when she found Raethin had entered silently behind her and now stood at the foot of the bed.

Like the king, Raethin looked upon the queen with deep sorrow set in his hooded eyes. He met Ara’s stare with a brief nod.

She turned to her father then.

King Raifeld knelt beside the bed after the doors closed behind the healers. Now that he was in private, with his only child and his closest confidant, the king no longer held his reserved demeanor.

Ara balked when she caught sight of a few escaped tears running down his cheek.

I never thought I would have to say goodbye so soon, Raifeld muttered. I’d hoped to grow old with you.

She looked away from her father. This was the first time that she’d seen him so fragile. It made her own pain grow like a fiery tumor within her chest.

Raifeld whispered a few more words to the queen, having grasped her limp, frail hand and clasped it to his chest.

Ara, the king said, bringing her gaze back to him.

He gestured for her to come to him, and she knelt beside him, her eyes widening when he wrapped his arm around her and tucked her into his side.

It’d been a long time since her father had hugged her. She thought it impossible for the pain to grow, but somehow it did.

Together, they broke down, whispering their goodbyes together to the queen. Being this close to her mother, Ara saw the struggling, raspy breaths that battled their way in and out of Adaena’s chest. Hesitantly, she grasped her mother’s hand, pressing her fingers to the vein running along her wrist.

The queen’s stuttering heartbeat was agonizingly slow.

Moments passed as they embraced as a family for once—not as the royal family, strapped by duty and etiquette to withhold such intimate behavior.

A knock at the door shattered that moment. Fluidly, Raifeld let go of Ara and stood, allowing her to remain knelt by the bed, grasping her mother’s hand.

Raethin bid for the visitor to come in. He’d remained standing at the foot of the bed with his arms crossed and expression reserved.

The door opened, revealing the two attendants that had guided Ara into the bedroom. They parted to reveal the high priest and his two closest acolytes.

Reluctantly, Ara stood, allowing the high priest to replace her. The acolytes held ritual items in their arms.

One held a water vase and a white linen cloth. The other grasped three vials and a bag of herbs from the smell of it.

Raifeld motioned for Ara and Raethin to give them space. Together, they sat on the lounging sofa that lined one wall of the queen’s bedroom.

Steadily, the priests stripped the queen to her undergarments. In the watering vase, they mixed the herbs and the vials and applied it to the queen’s bared skin, chanting a mantra of the departing, beseeching Athaera for a safe, calm transition from Thraes into Aev’Elona, the paradise of the heavens.

When they had finished, they laid the white cloth over her body, tucking it under her chin.

The acolytes then bowed and left, leaving the high priest to console Ara and her father.

She is at the threshold between life and death, the high priest said. Athaera will guide her home.

Thank you, Fausius, Raifeld said.

With a bow, the high priest retreated from the room, leaving Ara, her father, and Raethin in silence.

Raethin, the king said after a moment. Please dismiss those in the other room and escort the princess back to her room. I would like to be alone with my wife in her last moments.

The commander hesitated briefly before bowing to Raifeld.

Ara didn’t have the heart to disagree at the moment. She had the chance to say her goodbyes. She didn’t want to see her mother draw her last breath.

Come, Princess. Raethin held out his hand to her. Without hesitation, she grasped his hand, ignoring a sharp second of astonishment of touching him for the first time.

She didn’t not like it. But they’d always had such a distant relationship. The royal commander before Raethin had treated her like a daughter, having watched her throughout her childhood. He’d held her as a toddler, grasped her hand as a child, and hugged her many times.

But never once had Raethin done such a thing—and she’d never expected him to do so.

Now she allowed the young commander to guide her out of the room. He paused only to dismiss those that waited, then continued their journey out of the queen’s royal quarters.

One person that waited was the retired commander, Maxum Tynara—the one that was like a second father to her. He’d followed Raethin and her quietly, whispering to the young commander from his other side.

Ara had caught his inquiring glance between their held hands and her, but she’d looked away from him, unwilling to provide an explanation.

His Majesty wanted to be alone with her in her last moments, Raethin had answered Max.

The sound of his voice had shocked Ara out of her daze. Clumsily, she pulled her fingers from his grasp, averting her eyes when he looked at her.

We will have much to discuss come morning then, Max said.

He’d groomed Raethin for his position and, once retired, became an advisor to the king, which meant he still worked closely with Raethin. Ara was glad for that, given his icy demeanor. Max not only buffered the young commander, but the harshness of the court as well. Though her father couldn’t convince him to not retire, he could sway Max into remaining beside his side in other ways.

Ara tuned them out as the three walked down a spiraling staircase to the main hall of the Therilean royalty’s wing. Luckily, the stairwell to her rooms was in sight, several paces away.

But something caught her attention through the large glass windows that lined the hall. She halted by one that was cracked with fresh air and squinted her eyes.

It was well into the night and the moon was full, shedding much light onto Verisca. Along the horizon, black dots moved, growing rapidly in size.

Her sharp gasp had stopped Raethin and Max. She heard their rapid footsteps as they hurried to her side.

What is that? Max whispered.

A screech in the distance cut through the air seconds before alarms blared in the courtyard several stories below the open window.

The Kaevari, Raethin hissed with a curse. They’re here.

Chapter Two

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Second Era 13899, The Royal Palace of Verisca, Therilea

At the mention of Kaevari, fear surged in Ara like a tidal wave. Blood rushed in her ears, following the rapid beating of her heart as it attempted to claw its way up her throat. Cursing the young commander, she felt her body drop right before she slipped into deep unconsciousness.

They were demons, creatures bred from the bowels of a hell unfamiliar to the mortals of Thraes. Surfacing decades ago, they’d quickly spread throughout Altana, razing villages to the ground. In the ashes and gruesome piles of corpses left behind rose the very plague that claimed her mother this night—and somehow, a curse transformed dead mortals at random into more Kaevari.

No one knew how they’d come to Thraes. For the years following their appearance, the kingdoms struggled to banish them from the mortal realm. All they’d ever learned was that the Kaevari only came out at night, being repulsed by daylight.

This had to be the worst night of her life. Not only was her mother dying, but now, the Kaevari flew in droves to attack Verisca.

Alarms continued to blare, alerting everyone to the oncoming danger. Ara’s terror had stifled her senses, but a tremor ran through her body when someone grasped her hand.

Ara looked up, blinking rapidly at the nearness of the young commander.

The alarms had grown so much in volume that he had to yell over the sound, We’ve got to go, Princess!

Go where? She wanted to ask, but her tongue felt heavy and her lips trembled.

Max stood beside them, shouting to the groups of warriors that now flooded the hall. Several ran toward the queen’s quarters, headed by another of her father’s commanders. Others went to take their positions in the guard stations that lined this floor.

Two familiar soldiers separated from the others, heading directly for them. One was Arlow, a half-elf that served directly under Raethin. Ara didn’t know the name of the other soldier, but he and Arlow wore the same armor of Raethin’s squad of elite soldiers.

Before she could question them, Raethin tugged her along with him by the pull of her hand. Max and the two other soldiers ran after them as he dragged her along to one of the less-used staircases that led down to the main floor’s back hallways.

Ara’s head spun at how fast everything transpired.

A cacophony of shouts and alarms continued, causing a painful ringing in her ears. As they entered another main hall, she saw that soldiers, servants, and magi alike flooded every open space of the palace. Civilians and gentry huddled in groups, sobbing and holding one another.

Raethin dragged her down another stairwell, and they entered a hall that was less populated. She recognized the entrance to the botanical conservatory and then the royal library.

As the chaotic noise faded, Ara’s thoughts caught up with her. She gritted her teeth, tugging on Raethin’s hold on her hand, and ground her heels into the floor.

Stop—let go! She hissed. Where are we going? We have to go back—

We can’t, Princess, Raethin replied. He allowed her to pull from his grasp, and though she put a few feet of distance from him, their companions closed the space. Arlow and the other elite warrior stood close to her back, and Max moved to Raethin’s side as he turned to her.

Ara hadn’t noticed before, but they all had unsheathed their swords.

But my father—

His Majesty gave us direct orders to take you out of Verisca if the Kaevari ever attacked, Max said as he stepped to her. Gently, he grasped her shoulders, directing her glare away from Raethin to focus on him.

But—

Ever since Kava Sil and Viloth fell to the Kaevari army, we’ve been planning for this moment, he continued. We are to take you through a hidden exit and go to Waetherea, if the demons have yet to take them. We must escape, no matter what happens here.

But what about my father? She asked, breathless.

Before anyone could answer, a quake rumbled through the palace. Ara stumbled into Max, grasping his arms as she looked around.

Through the windows, she caught sight of the Kaevari up close. She’d seen sketches of them before, but they paled compared to their reality.

They were beautiful, like the statues of the gods in the gardens of the royal temples. Their skin was pale and ashen like marbled stone, eyes bright as shining rubies, and lips dark as though frost-bitten by winter. Draconic wings kept them in midair as they slammed into the ward that separated them from the palace by several yards. Smooth tails flickered from behind them. Strange, black armor covered their form like a second skin.

Ink-dipped talons clawed at the ward, sending a shimmering current through its watery surface. As each body slammed into the barrier, the exertion shook the entire palace.

That won’t last, Arlow insisted. We need to go.

But— Ara knew she sounded like a broken record, but her mind kept returning to her father.

Ara. Raethin moved closer to her, brushing shoulders with Max, as he continued. This is what your father wants. He planned this for a long time, knowing that this day would come. We have to follow his orders.

Slowly, she nodded, swallowing back the lump growing in her throat. Unable to hold off any longer, she allowed Max to grasp her hand. Raethin turned and led them through the halls.

Ara now recognized where they were going. At the end of one of these halls, tapestry covered a hidden entrance to a stairwell leading to. She’d been there once, when she was younger and smaller, with a boy that now when she thought of, her heart tightened and stuttered.

Just as they reached the hidden entrance, the barrier broke. Seconds later, glass exploded throughout the halls behind them as demons tore through the windows.

Raethin gripped her other wrist, towing her past the tapestry and into the stairwell behind it. Max had let go of her, allowing Raethin to take over as they rushed down the steps. Arlow and the other warrior reared their group, shutting the stone false wall behind them and sealing them in darkness.

Their pace slowed only so that someone could conjure a light. She balked when she caught Raethin’s features illuminated by the magick.

No one ever told her he knew magick, but now that he revealed his ability, she caught on to her father’s line of reasoning with this escape plan. Max had known magick, though very little, and as far as she knew, the two elite soldiers with them knew enough to hold their own.

It would be this kind of magick that would protect her against the demons as they escaped the siege. For a slim moment, throughout the terror, she felt hope swell up in her chest and give her a free breath.

Raethin quickly dashed her free breath when he hurried their pace. For endless minutes, Ara struggled to keep up. Her heels caught on the weathered stone steps several times, and in each instance, Raethin grasped her elbow to keep her upright.

To her relief, they reached the end of the stairwell and entered a large chamber. Storage chests and barrels filled much of the space. The walls displayed mounted weapons. At the end of the chamber, a large door stood open to pitch-black.

Apprehension tingled her spine, raising goosebumps across her bare skin. She relaxed when Raethin let go of her, but grimaced as she watched him rifle through the storage chests.

The two warriors stood at the entrance, attention piqued by any notice that demons had found the hidden stairwell. Max scoped the rest of the space, halting at the exit’s darkened threshold.

Ara balked when Raethin pulled out a sack of clothes, leather armor, and traveling boots from one chest.

Hurry and change into these, he said as he piled them in her arms. She grimaced, glancing at the others.

But they’d turned their back to her, just as Raethin now did.

Without complaint, she stripped down to her undergarments and kicked off her heels. She winced as her dress crumbled to the floor, now sullied by the dirt of the catacomb’s ground.

A moment later, she’d donned a cotton shirt and leather trousers. She tightened and knotted the leather corset to her torso, grimacing as its hard edges bit into her skin. Then she’d shrugged on the leather jacket and slipped cotton socks onto her feet.

Once she’d pulled on the traveling boots and tied their knots, she stood upright and cleared her throat.

The soldiers moved toward her as Raethin turned around. He grasped her hand and placed something cold and metal in her hand, wrapping her fingers around its hilt.

Keep this on you at all times, he said before letting go of her.

Ara stared at the dagger. When she looked back up, Raethin was already beside Max, and the other two soldiers were gathering supplies from the trunks.

Hesitantly, she approached Raethin and Max and, out of habit, she tugged on her dark locks. Her ladies-in-waiting that morning had styled her hair in a ponytail, and now she was thankful for that.

What now? She asked.

Before answering, Max pulled out his pocket watch and cursed.

We have to wait until dawn before leaving this hideout, he said. That is still an hour away.

Gods. Time had passed so quickly. When she’d received the news about her mother, it was a few hours before midnight.

We will rest then, Raethin said with a nod. We’ll need to gain some distance from Verisca once we enter the forest.

The forest? Ara stammered. Why are we going into the Therilean Forest?

Because its druidic magick confuses the Kaevari, he said, crossing his arms. That’s the safest path to Waetherea.

But it will take forever to get to Waetherea through that route, she argued.

That’s correct, Princess. Raethin grimaced, then glanced over her shoulder at the soldiers. That’s why Arlow and Veron are gathering several weeks’ worth of supplies. We can’t take the shorter route as it’s out in the open and makes us easier targets. By going through the forest, we will hide ourselves.

Ara pursed her lips, wanting to retort, but caught a warning look from Max. Raethin sighed and walked away from them to speak with Arlow and Veron.

She’d stared after him, racking her mind for a better strategy, and grew angrier when she couldn’t. The young commander had always had a quick wit and a sharp tongue and because of that, she’d always avoided him.

But now there was no avoiding Raethin. For the unseeable future, Ara was stuck with him—until… until what?

Ara startled at Max’s touch. He’d grasped her shoulder, drawing her stare from Raethin’s back to him.

It will be alright, Princess, Max said.

She smiled. At least she had him, the elf that’d been like an uncle to her for as long as she could remember.

We’ve prepared everything for tonight, he continued. Your father knew it would, but no one knew when.

Slowly, Ara nodded and sucked in a sharp breath.

My mother is dying tonight, she deliberated, wincing at the sharp sting in her chest and the rush of tears. And I may never see my father again.

Max drew her into a hug, caressing her hair as her father would.

How will it be alright, Max? Ara whispered into his shirt. Everyone else has fallen to the Kaevari. How can we be sure that they will not either?

We pray to Theron to bring them safety and justice, he said as he pulled back to wipe her tears away. And then, when all is clear, we will return home to them.

But why have the gods allowed this? She stepped out of his grasp, feeling her anger swell in the pit of her chest like a festering flame. These creatures are destroying everything. They’ve taken friends and family. They’ve taken my mother and— Her words caught in her throat. Swallowing, Ara turned away from Max and wiped her face clear of the tears.

When will this end? She turned back to Max when she’d calmed down enough and found the other three watching. Veron and Arlow eyed her with pity and their own pain, but Raethin’s unreadable expression weighed on her strangely.

Her cheeks flared with heat as she looked away from him.

Ever since they first saw the Kaevari hordes approaching through the window several stories above, the panic’s chaos swept Ara away. She’d allowed Raethin and the others to whisk her away to safety, all the while her father and the rest of her people readied for war.

Now, she waited deep underground for dawn to come so that they could flee into the Therilean Forest, as her father fought for his life and as her mother lost hers.

Her mind had stopped reeling now that they’d stopped running, and all she could think about was how wrong this was.

Ara was the crown princess of Therilea, and her people were now fighting for their lives. Instead of aiding them, she was running away.

We should fight these demons, she said. Instead of running away like cowards. Those are my people that are dying up there—I should be with them.

A sharp bark of a laugh silenced all of them. Ara jerked her head toward Raethin, astonished by his response.

Do you want to die, Princess? He asked, pointing at the stairwell from where they had entered. You may try to return to die in vain, but we will not allow that. We would renege on the oaths we took when we first began serving your father if we allowed you to return. No matter if His Majesty survives, we can’t go back on our oaths.

Are you all willing to flee? She retorted, then turned to Max. Are you okay with leaving behind your wife Elynor, Max? Then she looked at Arlow. Or you—your mother, who was my mother’s lady-in-waiting?

We’d already discussed this plan with our families, Ara, Max said, his change of tone and use of her name a sign that he was losing patience with her. We had instructed them on what to do when this happened.

So, you’re all willing to lose your lives to ensure that I survive, no matter if our kingdom does? Ara balked at them when they all nodded silently.

Well, I can’t do this. She stormed toward the stairs. This goes against everything I believe—

Raethin stepped in front of her, moving so quickly that she couldn’t halt her steps before slamming into him. With a grunt, she stumbled back and glared at him.

You are not returning, Ara, he said, enunciating each word sharply. We are leaving through the catacombs, even if I have to throw you over my shoulder and drag you kicking and screaming.

I swear to Theron if you try to do that, I will—

Do what? Raethin laughed again. The harshness of his response sent a sharp pain through Ara’s chest, but instead of shriveling under his cruelty, she straightened her back and lifted her chin.

They did not train you as a warrior nor as a mage, he said. You have no way to defend yourself, nor do you have the strength to fight against me. So try to test me, Princess. You will fail.

Fine, Ara hissed through her teeth as she began rolling up her sleeves. If it is for my integrity and my kingdom— she stammered at the darkening gleam in his eyes. I’ll fight against you on this, Raethin Corvus. I swear to Theron.

Don’t swear on something you can’t keep—

Rae, Max spoke up with a warning.

Ara watched the young commander glance at his elder. With a roll of his eyes, he sighed.

I’ll give you one more chance to not give us a hard time, Princess, Raethin said.

Do as you wish. Ara walked around him, but he slid in front of her once more. With a growl, she turned the other way, trying to get around him.

It’s the hard way, then.

Before Ara could react, Raethin pressed a finger to her forehead and bright energy flared from the contact, blinding her. Within seconds, a weight grew around her head until she couldn’t keep her eyes open.

Chapter Three

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Second Era 13899, The Therilean Forest, Therilea

Horror awaited Ara in her dreams as Raethin’s spell dragged her deep under dark waters. She found herself within the Veriscan throne room, standing amid a turbulent storm of carnage. Maimed bodies strewn across the space. Blood doused the marbled floor like a fresh coat of paint, gleaming as the first rays of dawn glinted through the stain-glass windows. Ara would never admit it out loud to him but she knew he was right to stop her from going. But now she faced fresh trouble: the strange demon hunted after her.

Demons scattered at the glimpse of sunlight but one remained, standing at the foot of the platform, setting apart the royal thrones from the rest of the chamber.

This one was broader and taller than the others and unlike them, talon capped his wings and spiraling, obsidian horns adorned his head like a twisted crown. His long, black hair ran down his back in waves.

From where Ara stood in the dream, this Kaevari stood turned away from her. But the moment her non-corporeal self placed her feet to the floor, the demon had stiffened and glanced over his shoulder.

The slight movement had revealed something hiding behind him.

Ara saw the glint of her father’s crown. Like the rest of the room, gore drenched the king. As soon as she met her father’s eyes, seeing him alive, Ara felt herself move toward them. Her desire to return to her family fueled her, even in her sleep.

The king wheezed as he shifted. His green eyes had widened upon looking at her.

A grunt of pain caused Ara to skid to a stop.

The strange Kaevari had turned back to her father and swung his claws.

A sick squish filled her ears.

She’d held her father’s gaze and saw the moment his soul left him. His brow furrowed with agony and his eyes had darkened for a moment before they lost focus.

The demon let go of the king, allowing his body to slump forward onto the carpeted platform. Then he turned to Ara. His eyes were bright crimson, much like the other demons, but glowed vibrantly.

Her father’s blood covered his arm and grasped within his fist, was a dark, red mass.

Ara felt her knees slam into the marbled floor.

This dream was all too real. The sights, the smells, the sounds—and the agony of it all. Was she seeing her father truly die? And who was this Kaevari?

Her stomach rolled, threatening to empty its contents. But no matter what, Ara couldn’t look away from the demon.

He walked toward her, the dead king forgotten. The morning sunlight now lit the chamber and yet, when its rays touched the Kaevari, he never shrunk away in fear nor blistered from the contact.

The strange demon stopped a few feet before her and knelt. He still held her father’s heart in his palm and now he brought it up to her, presenting it as a gift.

You should have come to me, Ara Zypherus. The Kaevari’s deep voice startled her out of the shock. She jerked away, falling backward on her rear, and scooted across the floor to gain distance from him.

As her hands slipped in a puddle, she crashed painfully onto her slide, facing a gory mess.

Frantically, Ara righted herself and looked back at the demon. He hadn’t moved from his kneeling position, though he tilted his head at her curiously.

You shouldn’t have run away, the demon continued. If you hadn’t, your father may have lived.

You killed him, Ara hissed.

Yes. The Kaevari nodded. Because he hid you from me.

She paled, her eyes widening at the weight of his words.

Why? What do you want with me? Her voice shook violently. Who are you?

He smiled, revealing fangs stained with blood. The only thing that you need to know is that the longer you hide from me, the more I will kill.

The demon stood and opened his palm. Another wave of nausea hit her at the wet sound of her father’s heart hitting the floor.

Go now and make the right decision, Ara.

At his words, her vision dipped into darkness. She felt a pull on her body as the deep waters of sleep dragged her away from the scene.

Ara came awake in a rush. She flew upright, hands reaching out to grasp anything that would tell her she was away from the Veriscan palace and that creature.

The murmurs of conversation around her stopped abruptly. Morning sun warmed her skin, chasing away the chills of the dream.

She was in the forest, far away from the palace, and laid on a roll-up mat with her jacket to cushion her head.

Max sat closest to her, hovering over a small fire with a travel-sized cast-iron skillet grilling a slab of meat. Raethin sat across from the fire. Arlow and Veron laid out on their own mats a few yards away, covering their faces with their jackets to block out the sun.

Ara took several breaths to calm down. By the direction of the sun, she knew she’d been out for several hours.

Are you alright, Princess? Max asked, drawing her out of her scattered thoughts to focus on him.

She grimaced and blinked at the sudden swell of tears in her eyes.

I… I had a dream. Ara covered her face with her hands, hoping to block out the world, to hide from her companions’ stares.

I hope it’s not too terrible, Max said after a quick moment of hesitation.

Ara contemplated telling them about her dream. If she did, Raethin may ridicule her—though for what, she wasn’t sure. She just didn’t want to show vulnerability to him.

But Max would comfort her and right now, she needed that.

Sighing, she wiped her face of her tears and looked at them. Raethin had dropped his stare to whatever he fiddled with in his hands, but Max studied her as he tended the contents of the hot skillet.

I watched my father die, she said.

Raethin sharply looked back up at her. Max stopped stirring the meat with his metal spatula.

A nightmare, the young commander said after a painfully quiet moment.

It seemed so real, Ara whispered, watching as Max and Raethin shared a look.

What happened? Max asked.

She hesitated, parsing through the scattered remnants of her dream to describe it, and drew in a sharp breath.

I found myself in the throne room at dawn, filled with dead Therileans. In the morning light, demons scattered, but one stayed behind. When I had first arrived, he’d looked at me… as if it wasn’t a dream, and I spied on him. He then—tore my father’s heart out… and walked up to me to give it to me, like a gift.

Ara paused, swallowing down the thickening in her throat, and wiped away escaped tears.

Then he told me I should’ve come back. That he wouldn’t have killed the king if I had returned to fight.

She met Max’s eyes, which had widened at her description of the dream. He’d visibly paled as she recalled it, and once she quieted, he turned to Raethin.

She has no magick, the young commander said before Max could speak. This couldn’t have been a vision.

Ara winced at his words. Whether or not he intended to, Raethin hit on a sore spot that she’d carried her whole life.

Being that of Therilean royal blood, she didn’t have a magical bone in her body. Mortals could only practice magick if they had the affinity with it. The Zypherus bloodline was renowned for the potency of their magical blood.

But never did the gift appear within her, the sole heir of her bloodline and the crown princess of Therilea.

How else could you explain this? Max pressed.

Fear and grief. Raethin returned his focus back to his hands that, as Ara looked closer, idly carved away at a stick wide in girth with a utility knife.

It felt too real for my imagination, Ara said quietly, but the young commander paid her no attention. Instead, his gaze remained intent on what he did with his hands.

She turned to Max, who had returned his own focus to grilling the meat.

Tell us next time you have such a dream, Princess, the older elf said, flashing her a weak, sympathetic smile.

Alright. Ara nodded, ignoring the unease that settled sourly in her stomach.

Max changed the subject then, motioning to the skillet and a bag of bread, he pulled out of one knapsack lying around. Hungry?

She shook her head.

We’ll be eating and heading out, Raethin said then without looking up, now that the tense subject had been abandoned. She squinted at him despite that. He ignored her intent stare. We’ve wasted enough time in one place as it is.

I still haven’t forgiven you for knocking me out with a sleeping spell, Ara snapped.

Did you truly want the alternative? He retorted. I’d either have dragged you out of there, drawing attention to us, or have let you go up. And if that dream was truly real, then you would’ve been demon bait—and your father would still be dead.

Raethin, Max hissed through his teeth.

The young commander grunted back, carving into his stick more violently.

Rae’s got quite a temper, Princess. Arlow sat upright on his mat, rubbing at his tired eyes, and yawned. Don’t let it get to you.

They all scowled, especially Raethin.

Here. In the interim, Max had pulled out several wooden round slabs and sliced the grilled meat into even pieces, setting them on the plates. He handed one to Ara with a piece of bread. Try to eat this. We will walk all night to gain distance from Verisca.

She took the plate without a word and watched as Max handed the rest of the portions to the others. Arlow shook Veron awake to eat.

Together, they ate in silence, ignoring the tension between Ara and the young commander. She wanted to say many things to him. All she knew would cause an argument and likely hold them up further.

Instead, she stifled her anger deep down and furiously chewed on her food. Though her stomach burned from anxiety, she forced the meal down.

A sudden burst of light caught their attention. Everyone stiffened at the sight as it drew closer, and once it broke through the trees and traveled toward them, the warriors relaxed.

Ara remained still, her eyes widening at the sight of a ball of light the size of a marble. It drifted as if carried on a breeze until Raethin plucked it from the air.

As soon as the young commander came into contact with the magical marble, an indistinct murmur filled the air. It was too intelligible for Ara to make out the words, but it was enough for Raethin.

His expression darkened as he listened. Once the voice faded, the marble dissolved into specs of light swept away by a soft breeze.

What was that? Ara asked.

There are very few survivors. Mostly those on the outskirts of Verisca. An army mage had gotten out before dawn and hid. Then he sent this to me. Raethin stood and dusted off his trousers. Finish eating. We must leave right away.

Was that all that was said? She pressed as she shoved to her feet.

Raethin looked at Max then and though his expression held the usual restraint, she saw his gaze flicker with uncertainty.

Then with a sigh, the young commander said, The king is dead and demons have overrun the palace. Right now, the survivors are heading out toward the forest as well.

Ara swallowed and dropped her gaze to the ground. Without another word, the others began packing up, not lending a word of comfort to her.

But she knew the truth.

They could say nothing to her to put her at ease.

Stifling her tears, she sucked in a breath and turned to pack up her things, and caught Raethin’s look.

What she saw in his brief gaze before he turned away from her confirmed what she thought.

That her dream wasn’t a dream at all but a vision.

Chapter Four

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Second Era 13899, The Therilean Forest, Therilea

Raethin knew his words cut the princess down to the bone but he could only restrain himself so much. Not only had she called him a coward when he refused to return to aid his king but she insinuated he held no compassion for his people. It took Max’s constant reminding that she didn’t intend her words this way but she spoke about what everyone wanted to do but couldn’t. No matter why they hunted her, he could not let them succeed.

They all wanted to return home, fight for their families, and die trying. After Raethin had knocked the princess out, the trek out of the catacombs and into the forest was filled with bickering between him and the others about what was right and wrong.

They doubted their oaths, agitated by Ara’s insults to their pride and honor. But even if everyone else wavered upon their conscience and resolve, Raethin could not.

He and his subordinates swore oaths to their king to protect his daughter at all costs and indeed, they lost everything to do so.

Now that Raethin had confirmation that he was right to follow through with his oath, all he felt was hollowness. There was no victory in being proven right.

Being right meant that all he loved was gone—that his king was dead, his kingdom perished, and he was alone to bear the burden of the princess’s survival.

Raethin looked at her then. They’d headed out from where they rested that day. Dusk fell around them, the last rays of the sunset casting orange hues through the forest.

The princess had walked with Max, remaining ahead of him as they walked so that he could keep his eyes on her at all times. Arlow and Veron walked on either side of Raethin, keeping yards of space between them all to maintain a defensive formation as they walked.

Though Raethin heard her speak quietly to Max every few minutes, she seemed frightened to make too much noise. He also noticed that she had pointedly ignored him since they moved out of their temporary camp.

He preferred it that way. It meant that she didn’t waste energy fighting him tooth and nail, nor caused a scene that may attract unwanted attention. It also kept him from saying harsh things to her because of his own temper. They’d never learned to tolerate one another, as he’d never allowed himself to grow close to her as Max had. The irony was that now they were forced together and would have to do so if they were to survive.

They continued walking well into the evening in the same relative silence until Raethin halted.

Wait, he called to the others.

Ahead, several dots of soft glowing light fluttered. His group had passed through the outskirts of the forest and now that they traveled further into its depths, he noticed the terrain transforming.

Where there was once leveled ground and scattered trees, now the forest floor curved and dipped. The foliage grew dense, slowing their progress exponentially. But the further they went into the Therilean Forest, the more of its thriving life appeared.

What are those? Ara whispered to Max as Raethin moved ahead of them.

They’re forest sprites, he answered. They’re harmless usually, but they may draw attention to us if they decide to interact.

Sprites were elemental spirits that manifested within certain landscapes. Especially since the Therilean Forest was such a spiritual and magical place because of the earthen goddess’s influence, they prospered here. As he told the princess, they were mostly benevolent as long as nothing bothered them.

But magick left a trace and, being creatures of magick, if they took a liking to Raethin and his group, the change of their movement would draw attention to them for miles.

If Ara’s dream was truly a vision and that demon she mentioned was hunting after her, then he would’ve sent demons after her the moment night fell over the forest.

Are they going somewhere? Ara asked.

Raethin noticed then that the cluster of sprites floated in a direction away from them. Some swirled back around, as if catching sight of the five of them, and in the soft night’s breeze, he heard the chimes of their murmurs, so discreet that for a second, he thought he imagined it.

Let them pass, he said under his breath.

They remained frozen in place, watching as the sprites hesitated and then flew toward Ara. Their movement was so swift that Raethin had difficulty keeping his stare trained on them.

Within seconds, the sprites swarmed around Ara. Several tugged at her hair while others twirled in front of her face. A soft chorus of their whispers filled the air.

The princess blinked, eyes widening as she took in their murmurs as though she understood them.

The sight was so strange that Raethin hesitated from shooing them away. He’d never heard of sprites speaking to mortal beings—nor of mortals comprehending their words. Only druids could do so, and they were more elusive than these spirits.

His astonishment lasted briefly. With a wave of his hand, he sent a current of air that flung the sprites several yards away from them. Their murmurs cut off, stunned and shock by his move against them.

When the sprites recovered, their voices turned into a loud buzzing. Their tiny bodies of light vibrated in anger. They reminded Raethin of a swarm of bees as they clustered together. In response, he squared himself in front of Ara to face them.

But the sprites never attacked. There was a soft whistle in the breeze that turned their attention away from his group. Raethin watched in shock as they rushed away, disappearing into the darkness of the forest just as quickly as they had appeared.

He turned in the direction they left, from where he’d heard the whistle. Still, the forest was too dark to see that far. But apprehension pulled at him as he realized that since they first sighted the sprites, he’d felt eyes on them.

Someone watched them, the same that had likely called the sprites away. That likely meant that whoever followed them wasn’t Kaevari.

Raethin caught Max’s look then and wondered if he caught on to the same thing.

Let’s get going, he said instead of questioning. Whoever followed them meant no harm—at least, not now. They could speculate later when the sun returned.

The encounter with the sprites had affected the princess strangely as the next few hours, she didn’t speak a word.

Raethin still had the sense of being watched, even as the first signs of dawn breached the forest’s canopy. His group visibly relaxed, having survived the night without encountering danger.

Arlow and Veron whispered to each other as Max fell into step with Raethin. Ara hesitated to follow the older elf but complied to walk on his other side. Still, she pointedly ignored Raethin, turning her face away from him as they continued.

Who do you think it was? Max asked once the morning light had fully covered them.

Someone who can influence the sprites, Raethin replied. Maybe… druids.

Druids? The princess repeated, surprised.

It was a rare occasion to meet a druid in person but this forest was the home of a colony. When the gods first created Thraes and traveled its lands and seas, they had created the elves together. But being divine entities with the purpose of creating, the deities created hybrids from their first mortal races. The god of fire crafted the Drakkin from his eternal flame. The goddess of the sea birthed the Ravisi from the purest of her waters. The god of air, the Valkyr from the deepest breath of his lungs. And the goddess of the earth, she had created Druids.

The druids were born from a Life Tree planted by the earthen goddess and from what the mortals knew of the lore, the first one was within the Therilean Forest. Therefore, this colony was the oldest and the most reclusive of the druids.

Raethin couldn’t recall one person who he had known or heard of that had met a Therilean druid in the flesh.

They may watch us, he said to Ara.

Why? She asked.

We’ve entered their home, Max said. They must be curious. It’s rarely that mortals walk through the Therilean Forest.

Will they attack us?

Not likely. Raethin glanced around, wondering from where they hid. Apprehension still pricked his skin like the bite of cold air. We’ve not shown ourselves to be a danger to their home.

Then… The princess chewed her lip. Then would they attack the demons?

Raethin had speculated on the possibility. If demons infiltrated their forest, they would pose a threat to every living creature within their domain.

Most likely. In fact, he was certain that the druids would attack the Kaevari if they caught the creatures in their woods. He betted on it.

Ara seemed satisfied with that thought as well, as she relaxed and fell quiet once more.

They continued walking until mid-morning, when the princess protested going any farther and Arlow and Veron agreed with her. Once they found a comfortable space in the forest, well shaded from the sun and the ground even enough for them to lie out their mats, they laid their gear down.

Max pulled out packs of food, dispersing dried fruits, cheeses, and slices of bread out to everyone. Ara had laid out her mat the moment after she’d taken off her knapsack and sat down to stretch out her legs.

I don’t think I’ve ever walked this much, she grumbled, and Raethin couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

At least he said nothing in response, ignoring when Max consoled her.

After they ate, Veron and Arlow laid down to rest, covering their faces to block out the sun. Max remained awake, calmly repacking the food and laying out his own mat.

Raethin had found a comfortable position against a tree and glanced at the others. For once, he was envious of Arlow and Veron. They fell asleep too quickly. He was exhausted and his body protested with every movement.

But he couldn’t stop, nor could he rest so easily. His nerves refused to relax, especially with the continuous sense of being followed.

Max had finished arranging himself to rest and looked over at Raethin, saying nothing but furrowing his brow at the younger elf. He didn’t need to voice his concerns, as Raethin knew them well.

Raethin looked away, his wandering gaze falling on the princess. She lay on her back, her eyes wide open as they absently studied the open sky above.

Princess, he called. When she looked over at him, brows setting in a brief glimpse of defiance, he continued, You should rest while you can.

Ara frowned and looked away.

I can’t fall asleep.

Raethin glanced back at Max, who shot him another one of those warning looks.

Try, he said finally, his voice tight as he restrained his frustration.

I’m afraid to have another nightmare, Ara snapped. Can you take away nightmares? Can you put me at ease? If not, then don’t demand that I fall right to sleep.

Raethin paused, grimacing at the sense of sympathy that bled through his agitation. He caught another look from Max, this one with a shrug.

We are here to protect you, Princess, the older elf said. You can be at ease to sleep.

Ara sighed instead of replying to him and tossed an arm over her face to shield her eyes.

Raethin laid his head back against the tree and closed his eyes. His body vibrated with nervous energy, and he found it hard to relax his muscles.

Several minutes passed before he opened his eyes and sat up. He found Max was still up, now sipping out of one of their water canteens. Ara had rolled on her side, her eyes open and unfocused.

I have a question, Princess, Max said, drawing both their gazes to him.

When we happened upon the sprites, he continued, They spoke to you. Did you understand them?

Ara hesitated and glanced at Raethin, as if measuring his interest in her response. He had wondered about that but didn’t have the energy to interrogate her.

I think so, she said after a moment.

What’d they say? Max asked.

Nonsense. She replied so quickly that Raethin raised an eyebrow at her and in response, she rolled to her other side, facing away from him and at Max.

Max sighed, unwilling to press further, and their makeshift camp fell into total silence once more.

Eventually Max and Ara fell asleep, leaving Raethin to stew restlessly alone. Even when his eyes struggled to remain open, his mind buzzed, refusing to let his body relax enough to sleep.

All he could think about was why the demons sought after the princess.

Chapter Five

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Second Era 13899, The Therilean Forest, Therilea

The abyssal darkness welcomed Ara when she fell asleep. She was reluctant to relax into its endless waters, terrified of how aware she was that she was dreaming. Because if it was true, then any night could be the night he appeared and killed them all.

In the arcane, there were magi that could dream-walk and astral-project to extraordinary places that the mundane people of Thraes could never imagine. Such skilled sorcerers could journey to other worlds, indulging in new cultures, new ecosystems, new peoples, new species. It was an ability rare and prized above all others. But like with every other struggle in the arcane, Ara never showed promise for such skills.

Hesitantly, Ara allowed herself to be guided by the dream, floating for what felt like hours. She’d hoped that her body was getting enough rest, though the longer her journey in the darkness persisted, the more she panicked.

When would she wake? Was it a matter of minutes outside of her dream, or did she really sleep for hours? If so, then Raethin or Max should’ve been waking her to pack up their things and move out again…

Ara tried to force her eyes open and something tightened and strained in her mind—the closest sensation to a headache a non-corporal form could feel. She struggled to jolt her weightless body forward. Shadows swirled with light. The tightening sensation in her mind thickened, her mind aching for release.

The churning stopped, and Ara found herself trapped in a different darkness. Shadows swirled around her like smoke, glittering off the slivers of light as they pulled and tugged at her form.

Through the shadows, a hand reached for her. Long fingers flitted inches away from her face, black talons razor slick with oil; the hand ashen gray and peppered with charcoal and crimson. The swirling slivers of light pulsated, jerking violently around her.

Through the shadows, the horned Kaevari appeared. His crimson eyes vibrated, their glowing pulse growing in momentum, following the beat of her heart, which thundered in her ears.

Ara wondered at the strange sensations, given that this was an out-of-body experience. She knew now she was no longer in her dreams. This creature had tugged her from the safe confines of her mind and dragged her into his own astral matrix.

You’ll never run far enough away from me, Ara Zypherus, the Kaevari whispered, his black lips tugging into that sanguine smile.

His teeth gleamed in the echoes of her circling light.

I can sense where you are, the demon continued, leaning closer.

Ara jerked, her eyes widening as the light illuminated the contours of the Kaevari’s face. There were familiar lines, though not so distinct, that she could place a memory on them. But the familiarity ended where the monstrosities began.

She could not deny that the demon was beautiful. A creature of the void, of death and utter destruction, and a perversion that also rivaled the beauty of the gods. Her heart thundered as the Kaevari pressed against her, his presence a massive weight that mimicked physical sensation. His scorching heat burned her as he gripped her chin, the edges of his talons grazing her soft skin.

Her stomach dipped. Sweat coated her complexion.

This was becoming more real by the second—as if the demon pulled her physical body into the astral matrix, like he had when she last slept.

Ara jerked, trying to break their connection, but the Kaevari’s grip tightened, and a hiss filled her ears as his arm snaked around her torso.

Let go— she hissed, but her words caught in her throat when she felt the Kaevari’s lips pressed against the curve of her neck, and his murmurs sent shivers across her skin. Her body went slack as his hands splayed across her back and torso.

I have sought you for decades but the Void has restrained me. Now, he seeks to claim what your soul holds. It’s time to reunite.

His teeth grazed her throat, the sharp incisors near enough to break the skin.

Ara quivered, begging for anything to rip her from sleep and away from this creature. His magick made the experience so real, what if he affected her in the real world?

Her hands fumbled against his chest as she tried to shove away. The Kaevari caught her wrists, wrenching them around her back.

His chuckle tickled her neck.

Who are you? Why in the hells are you after me?

Her questions came out in short, shaky breaths and around the lump in her throat.

The red darkened in his eyes as his sanguine smile deepened. "Nivar krosai."

I am nothing.

***

Ara woke to gentle shaking and a soft murmur. When she blinked through the sleep in her eyes and shifted, she saw Max knelt over her, a deep concerning scowl set into his expression. He helped her sit up then