From this angle I see a black band peeking out from his shirt collar, unlike jewelry or adornment, this appears to be inked into this tanned skin. Skin much more tan than the snake outside that attacked Caym. Shit.
“Alora Viren, one of the rebel leaders from The Order of The Hidden.” His smokey cadence ripples through the chaos.
“Do not speak my name from your filthy mouth, get away from me.” The sneer comes out feral, my lip pulled up in a snarl.
He stands and smiles with full teeth, blood—smeared and wicked. He straightens his shirt collar and I glare at the bastard in front of me.
“You are formally charged with treason and conspiracy against the King of Noxia.” His words come out cool, laced with indifference.
I spit at his face and he simply closes his eyes as he wipes the dripping blob from his cheek. “I know who you are, Devourer.” I imagine my dagger blinding his perfect emerald orbs, see how well he could hunt his own kind then.
When he looks at me again, I don’t see disgust or anger on his face, but rather astonishment in his feline eyes.
“They said you were fierce, but even I underestimated you.”
With a flick of his wrist, his shadows bind my arms to my side and weave their way around my mouth, leaving me immobilized.
Panic blooms in my chest, and a sudden surge of my magic, that I’ve sparsely used before, bursts through the room. The radiant light that shimmers and blinds, like opal refracting in light, is chaotic and uncontrolled. It’s magic fueled by desperation rather than skill.
His eyes widen as his shadows are burned away.
The burst of magic that I don’t know how to control, quickly leaves me faint and my limbs weary. Lead fills my veins, swallowing my entire body in heaviness. I stagger backwards, eager to flee from this monster in front of me. The corners of my vision begin to blur as the edges are dotted with black spots.
No…I want to scream it but even as my throat works to form the words and fails, I know it’s too late. I can’t save myself, I can’t save Caym, and Leeson will be left alone in this war.
Before I fall into unconsciousness, I smell the faint floral bells that remind me of home. Warm arms catch me and set me ever so gently onto the floor. My vision gives way to darkness and I’m floating, unfeeling and free.
Chapter 3
Alora
The grass beneath me, damp from the autumn dew, is the only thing that offers comfort as I watch the building before me turn to cinders.
Sparks trickle and dance throughout the night sky, swept up in the low breeze.
Rolling onto my back causes a throb so bone chilling I clutch my jaw and wince, the dirty skin cracking near my eyes. Blood, perhaps mine, perhaps my family’s, and tears mar my face.
The sobs stopped hours ago, the sun setting with them. With the moons’ rise, a determination, roots so deeply into my marrow, set aflame like the home I watched burn.
The king and the men that torched my village would fail, no matter the cost.
I float in and out of consciousness. The smell of smoke lingers in the night air, and unfortunately, so too does the scent of charred skin. The screams of ghosts float around me. Unclear if my brain is fragmented or if it’s the whistle of the wind, I look again to the cinder pile of my dreams and life.
I watch riders come into view from the hill just past where my home now lies in ruin, glowing an angry, molten red and orange.
Maybe the king’s soldiers have returned to make sure we’ve actually fallen through the veil and into death, or worse, maybe they’re here to send any survivors to The Devourer.
Confusion follows as a puff of hot breath billows across my face. Moving my head upward, a snuffle and huff of a stallion stirs me to consciousness. My eyes lull open and I’m greeted by a beautiful female dismounting in haste and yelling something over her shoulder.
She looks as if she could be born of moons’ light,her pale skin seeming to glow in the dark sky, her blonde plait whipping back and forth.
The moment she touches me, I feel my back sear and warmth appear to mend the flesh beneath me. Gods, she’s a healer. The realization hits me as fierce as the pain stitching inside me.
My world tilts as I realize she’s lifting me. Her dainty stature is misleading for the strength she possesses in her lithe limbs.
The sound of rushing sand fills my ears and I realize I must have lost more blood as she stands me on my feet.
I still can’t understand what she’s asking me. I watch her grow still and her face morphs into understanding andsadness. She looks from me to my burnt out home, to her companions, and begins to lift me, as if to put me on her saddle.
