“Aura, rode… Fine, I will fly.” His voice wavers on the last word. He stuffs his pipe away and moves toward Crystal, who has transformed into the terrifying form of the white Wicked Wyvern of Skalor.
“Amazing.” Sigvid's jaw drops slightly.
“Ready to see the battle from above?” Crystal’s laughter shakes the ground beneath their feet.
Sigvid nods his head while continuing to move slowly forward. Calder smirks, shoving him more than patting him on the back. They take their positions along Crystal’s scaly back, each gripping her thick hide.
Her massive wings extend outward, their force stirring the dirt around her powerful legs. She soars upward in a burst of speed, gliding above the evergreen canopy toward the smoking castle in the distance.
Spreading along the ground before them are Thora’s forces assaulting Nightwall Keep. From the looks of it, she has Lavinia well under control.
Here’s to slaying their targets before Makt can unleash an army of undead drauger.
Crystal dives through the air, narrowly avoiding a barrage of arrows from the parapets. She hovers above their tower, landing hard on the thatched roof. Her talons dig into the support, easily peeling away the cone top until it flutters to the ground like a feather. She lowers as far as she can, allowing the men to leap into the circular room.
Queen Avina presses against the wall, her stunned face filled with pure terror at the sight of the Wyvern. Her hands clutch something around her neck, and suddenly, she vanishes.
Dammit!
“Did you see her?” Calder shouts over the roaring sounds of the bloodshed below, and Crystal’s snarls as arrows rebound off her scales.
“Avina!” Sigvid pivots around, searching until he lunges for the only door in the makeshift cell. “My little Queen,” he tightly embraces the air until she materializes beside the door frame. He strokes her hair while she sobs into his shoulder, gripping his thick hide armor.
“I am here, my love.” He clutches her as if someone might stealher away again. “I am so sorry, little one. For everything.” The Beast loses himself in his wife while Calder considers the space devoid of his princess.
“I will return for the King and Queen!” Crystal takes flight, blue flames erupting from her mouth as she dives toward the archers.
When he turns, Avina shoves her pendant at Sigvid. “They took Aura! Please save her before Makt takes her as a vessel!” Even from afar, there is no mistaking the Treland Sacred Stone now lying in the King’s hand.
Sigvid focuses on the nautilus shell in his palm, and something wars across his features. His jaw clenches, and the undeniable desire behind his gaze is unmistakable–the need to seize additional power and dismantle Lavinia’s army.
Yet, instead of accepting the might of Treland’sseidr, his gaze flicks between the love of his life and Calder. His weight shifts as he murmurs to himself.
Avina brushes her lips against his knuckles, and his shoulders slump in defeat. He extends his fist, clutching the Stone. “Take it, Avardsson! You need all the help you can get. I will remain here with my little Queen until Crystal returns.” He grips Calder’s shoulder with a powerful grasp and an ache behind his intense gaze.
“Save my daughter.”
With a grunt of agreement, Calder slips the stone around his neck. He doesn’t wait to reassure them of Aura’s fate. The familiarity of the castle carries his boots out the door as he descends the spiral staircase.
Shouts and hurried footsteps echo from the heart of the Keep. The Royal Guards are undoubtedly preparing for Thora’s troops to breach the gate.
Calder races through the corridors, heading to the throne room where his mother will undoubtedly be, safeguarding her literal seat of power.
As he nears, four lone soldiers stand in his way of the massive door.
He grips the handle of Makt's Great Axe, channeling the extraseidrfrom the Treland Sacred Stone. Ice encases his skin in a protectivelayer as jagged shards jut out from his armor. A whoosh of snow from hisseidrengulfs the corridor as he charges at the foolish men.
He cleaves the head of the first man in one swing and decapitates the second without a glance. Blood and bone matter splatter as he roars at the last two. The final image they see before he extinguishes their souls to the Abyss is the might of the Iss Drengr. Their fragile flesh slices to ribbons at the entrance of the throne room.
Trudging through the bloodied corpses, he bursts through the door with an icy blast.
Inside are his parents and the Princess.
Aura’s head pivots at his entrance.
The sight of the rusty manacles encircling her wrists and ankles somehow infuriates him more. After everything Lavinia has put Aura through, the Princess still meets his gaze confidently—a strange calm in a situation that leaves her life hanging by a thread.
Your inner strength is everything I have ever wanted at my side.
