And for the first time ever, it was he who lowered his gaze.
“Oh, we’re shooting arrows now. Who’s up for a challenge?” Eldric bellowed, trotting towards us with a grin that bared canines.Gods, this male’s timing…
“Well, only if you’re up for losing,” I shouted, lifting the bow in the air. I smiled when I heard Aegir’s chuckle from behind me.
It seemed that even Eldric was impressed with my innate shooting skills. I couldn’t quite explain it, but for the first time in forever, I felt like I was someone—someone who was more than just a servant.
That night, I lay in my bed with a lit heart.
I thought abouthim.
I thought about what he told me, about his parents, his family, the beautiful soulbinding story. But then my smile faded as I thought about his cousin, Galen, who supposedly died protecting the Queen of Ilma.
It reminded me of that night—the night I eavesdropped on stories told by a campfire.
Ismail was not sitting at his usual spot where he normally waited for me. He was not in one of the stalls either. I was about to head back to the castle, but lingered when I noticed fires litin the paddock.Campfires. Campfire night, like Ismail had more than once mentioned.
I neared, hidden behind the stable’s wooden panels, and crept closer until I could make out what they were saying. I sat, my shoulder resting against the corner of the stable wall. I stayed there for a while, concealed, listening. Ismail was right, it did sound better in person.
Then I heard Ismail’s voice. “Hey, Martin, will you tell us that one, the story of the beheading, the one that was told by one of Queen Mirana’s servants?”
“I already told that one last month, boy. Perhaps Borin can tell us one of his stories from his days in Troiya.”
“Oh, come on, Leryn wasn’t here last month and he would like to hear it, wouldn’t you, Leryn?
“Uh, sure,” whoever Leryn was answered.
“Fine, but I say this in front of everyone. This will be the last time.”
It fell oddly quiet, still—even the crickets stopped chirping.
“Word travelled directly from one of the queen’s servants—one that managed to escape the flames of Pyrona, then took refuge somewhere below ground in Jebel, never to be seen.
“The castle of Nerithia was packed with people that night—Nymphs, Wielders, and humans alike. It was Princess Elara’s birthday. They were feasting, dancing, and singing when Queen Mirana shot to her feet. ‘Something’s wrong,’ she breathed.
“Everyone stilled. The music halted. The air thickened. ‘Does anyone feel their powers?’ the queen asked with a broken shout.
“No one did.Gone. Panic rose. Questions flooded the grand room, echoed with devastating concern. Moments later, one of the Stone Temple guards crawled into the dining hall, all beaten and battered. The guard managed to choke, ‘Naaris. They killed all of the guards. They spared me only to deliver a message to the queen. I’m sorry.’ The queen stiffened with anticipation. ‘QueenMirana Briartide, you have a very important decision to make today. I have already started by killing everyone and anyone in my way as I made a passage of fire towards you, consuming my surroundings with every step. I intend to continue doing so. Your Land shall know nothing but flames. But if you sacrifice yourself and your daughter, I promise you that I’ll stop this lovely massacre. Sand grains are making their way down the hourglass, Queen, so what will you choose? Will you be a good queen or will you be a good mother?’
“ ‘I’m sorry, my Queen, the immortal king also told me to let you know he’s here…he’s outside.’ The whole room gasped. Then a soft voice called, ‘Mama?’ Queen Mirana knelt in front of her daughter and cupped her face. ‘It’s going to be all right, my girl.’
“The queen ordered everyone to flee through the back gates, but one of the queen’s servants—the one who lived to tell the tale—didn’t follow the herd. Instead, she opened one of the windows and started climbing down a pine tree. And as she clung to the tree, two storeys aboveground, she stilled. With eyes filled with disbelief, she watched her queen and her king walking down the front steps, their daughter at their sides. Elara held her mother’s hand. Wildfires scattered beyond the horizon like a flaming sea. The screams, the cries—they were both heartbreaking and stomach-churning. The queen, too, saw what was becoming of her kingdom. Soon to become one of ash and carrion.
“The immortal king lifted both of his arms, fire shooting from his palms. ‘So what will it be, Queen? Will it be everyone or will it just be you?’
“ ‘I will spare the lives of my people, the majority of people,’ the queen answered, with a pained yet strong voice. The immortal king laughed.’
“ ‘So you choose to be a good queen I see. Just wonderful.’
“ ‘But you have to restore their powers,’ the queen bellowed.
“ ‘It’s too late for that now—our bargain is to either spare the life of your people or spare the life of no one. Those are your only two choices,Queen. I will burn everything and everyone. I will spare no one.’
“ ‘Swear it with a Fire’s Promise and we will surrender. The massacre stops. It stops now!’
“And so King Arden created a ball of fire, small and intense. He swore to his goddess. ‘Pyrona, goddess of the sun, flames, and ashes, I swear to you that if Queen Mirana and Princess Elara Briartide sacrifice themselves, the massacre on this Land stops.’
“The Fire King swallowed the ball of fire. His eyes turned fiery red. The servant watched as their queen, princess, and king continued their way down the steps. The three of them held hands as they moved closer to their deaths.
