"You're going to pay for your crimes…" he continued, and suddenly I noticed the sword embedded in sapphires by his side. It was wrapped with a beautiful chain which glowed and sparkled in the dark. Pa's blade—Sraphiel—and Mama's necklace.
How could he have it...? They'd have to be dead to be separated from it. My blood ran cold with sudden realisation. My tears fell like raindrops and my heart ached uncontrollably, clutching my hands to my chest tightly to somehow ease the pain.
Nocturna... I pray to you. Please don't let them be dead. Please... I can't lose them. The whole of Duvessa can't lose them.I prayed and prayed, but to no avail. There were no answers or wishes granted from the Goddess of Darkness.
With a tightened grip on my hair, he stood up to drag me along. Hastily, I grabbed the instrument beside me by instinct, but he immediately kicked it out of my grip. Finally letting go of my hair, the suddenness had me falling to the ground, the sharp prickly grains of sand scratching my lips. He lifted his big hand and formed a fist that squeezed with force to strike me. I winced before impact reflexively, squeezing my eyes shut and waited for the pain, yet it never came. I opened my eyes to see that something dark stood ahead of him, almost in the shape of a man.
Fear and bone chilling cold enveloped me. The thing in front of him radiated death and made my breathing halt. I could feel the power "it" radiated. My young soul seemed to fear the auraithad.
Its scent... Different.It was a demon. An abraax demon. With a power that not only created frost in the air but also summoned vibrations so strong that it awakened the guilt inside me once more, as this was one of the few whom I unleashed onto this world.
Even "he," the man in front of me, cowered back but drew out his sword in preparation to fight it.
I couldn't help but whimper as I felt the demon’s rage. I scrambled back, trying to pick myself up and move my legs hard enough to run.The abraax demon then tilted his head to the side to acknowledge me, it smirked and then said in a deep growl, "Run, little princess." And with a wink turned back to the sword that swiped at him.I was already running when I heard the sword clash with something of equal force. I held the instrument close to my chest as warm, dark liquid began to drip down frommy nose. I continued running, far off east to the Dark Desert. I sobbed, running past sharp tree branches that seemed nearly alive as they clawed onto my arms as if to catch me, tearing my ceremonial dress more with each sharp swipe. The man’s cruel yet true words echoed in my mind,The murderer of kin, the murderer of kin, kin slayer... murderer. KILLER.
Perhaps I should have waited for the abraax demon to kill me next.
I tasted metal when I coughed out the smoke that still lingered inside me; I tried my best not to slow down, until my foot collided against a thick sprouting tree root and I fell. My eyes squeezed shut; I gasped for the air that had been knocked out of me.I lay still, the distant scent of burning lingered. Above me stood an old, leafless tree. A black crow perched on its branch, staring. The same crow that would pick at my remains when I was gone.
I stared at the bird until my body went limp, my breath starting to fade.
The bird let out a powerful loud caw as it descended toward me. I sucked in a last sharp breath.
Part One
The brighter the flame. The darker the shadow.
Chapter 1
Power alone is not enough
The Apollon fae's lineage has significantly decreased over the years, making the bloodline weak compared to the pure blooded fae of the old days. The purebloods are no longer, and the Apollon royalty are what remains with their fiery red eyes.
The following text has been destroyed upon command from the High King of Apollo- Solaire Gideon.
Adrion
Adrion had been angry all his life but he had never thought he would be angry enough to disobey the king.
The subtle aroma of sage could be detected in the golden halls that he had known since childhood. Gold intricate designs were scattered along its deep carmine red walls which followed glamorous paintings of the dead kings staring down at him in contempt.His ancestors.
“Use your power.” He could almost hear his ancestors command. The same ancestors who used witches to make this very castle magic-proof to the wielders from the outside, the only ones able to use it were of the bloodline of the royals. The blood which runs through his veins.
This artificial tribute was a waste. To me at least.He couldn't help but bitterly think, feeling as though he had lost a coin toss when he had been born.
The young man could feel the warmth from each golden lantern that was hung up on these bright walls as he stalked towards the eastern wing of the castle. He inhaled the sage aroma deeply, hoping it would calm his fury.
Unrelenting. Rage. Ire.
He won't make me. I refuse.He thought to himself furiously, repeating those words over and over like a mantra.
I've always done so much for him. Tried to prove myself. Followed every single damned order. Trained myself to the point of breaking. And this is what I get?
The smell of sage had always seemed to calm him when he was younger. His mother had been the one, years ago, to order the maids to light sage along the castle walls. "To cleanse and heal spiritually," she always said.
He clenched his fists tightly and let go of any thoughts of her as he entered the royal chambers, trying desperately to control his angered breaths.
"Greetings, Your Highness. I'm afraid the king’s royal advisor forbade anyone to be let through the doors at this hour." One of the royal guards, Sedrick, if he remembered correctly, blocked his path.
