Page 160 of Black Sea

Then his black flames engulfed him.

When they extinguished, there was a splendid black armor where Mornon had been. It stood on its own, as if worn by an invisible being. Overlying a long, heavy leather robe and trousers of the same fabric tucked into boots, it was traced by shiny onyx decorations that wound across the greaves, the plates protecting the backs of the hands, the armguards, the shoulder straps, and the armor shaped like a spider web.

The web that Mornon had spun around me since our first encounter. And from which I could not escape.

So, with tearstained cheeks, I took a deep breath and accepted what was to come.

I left the bed I would never sleep in again and went to wash myself. I twisted my front locks into two side braids and, mustering courage, approached the armor. I reached out: The metal, which should have been cold, was hot.

But that wasn’t what caused me to flinch.

The moment I touched it, the armor dissolved and then reassembled on my body. All its parts fit perfectly, and it was so lightweight that I almost felt like I wasn’t wearing it.

I felt a faint burning sensation on my forehead, then I sensed the weight of a tiara resting between my braids. I traced its pointed edges with my fingers, recognizing the smoothness of the onyx that created the eerie pattern of a bramble.

The white glow of Calien’s Crystal suddenly caught my attention. I moved to the bench and picked up the necklace, examining it. I couldn’t wear it during the upcoming fight, as I risked losing it or having one of the spikes hit me in the eye.

So, I removed the gem from the bail and tossed the chain on the bed. Holding the Crystal in my cupped hands, I prayed that what I had in mind would work and brought it closer to my chest. When it touched the armor, the Crystal became embedded in it, shining even brighter for a few seconds.

I refused to look at myself in the mirror. I knew exactly how dark and terrifying and powerful my appearance was.

How much I looked like Mornon that day from a thousand years ago.

The first light of sunrise illuminated the sky beyond the glass ceiling, and I left my room.

* * *

When I entered the armory with the adjoining forge, the blacksmiths jolted in unison, stopping with their instruments in midair. I swallowed the lump in my throat and stoically held their shocked stares until, embarrassed by their own reaction, they returned to work.

I headed to the wall where the swords and daggers forged for me, my father, and Araton were displayed. Two swords, a pair of daggers, and one dagger were absent. I suppressed my emotions and swiftly fastened my belt with the sword scabbard on my left and the dagger scabbard on my right. After selecting the blades to fit into these, I proceeded to the elaborate two-tiered stables.

The stalls were empty, except for Ringil and my mother’s horse. As soon as she saw me approaching, my black mare became agitated. I didn’t blame her: Without my white armor and golden cloak, and with my eyes marked by the darkness, I must look like a monster to her.

“It’s me,” I tried to reassure her, but the mare kept rearing, neighing, blowing like a dragon from her flared nostrils, and circling the large stable to charge at the door and try to bite me.

I was about to yell at her that I didn’t have time for her scene. I was about to beg her to calm down and accept my new look. I was about to collapse in the middle of the corridor.

But a neigh, deep and as powerful as thunder, echoed across the square in front of the stables.

There, a mighty white horse, harnessless, lifted slightly on his hind legs, his neck arched so much that his dark gray chin touched its chest. Although I had only seen him once during his parade through a crowd of beasts and demons, I recognized him immediately.

He was Mornon’s stallion.

And he was here to bring me to his master.

Ringil started kicking the stable door wildly with her knee to get my attention, neighing in despair as the latch rattled with each strike.

I closed my eyes with a suffering face. “Goodbye, my friend,” I murmured.

Ringil called me even more, breaking my heart as I advanced toward the stallion without ever glancing back. The horse was so skittish that managing to grab a fistful of his long mane, avoiding a pounder, was more difficult than expected. I got on his back with an athletic leap, leaning forward as he reared.

Then, without needing to kick his sides, the stallion set off at a hard gallop. And in an instant, the beautiful Aegel, my home, disappeared behind me.

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This horse was so fast that we arrived at the southeastern bank of the Glawar shortly after the elven army. Just as the monsters and demons had made way for my mate that day a thousand years ago, so too did the elven knights move aside their black steeds, and the foot soldiers stepped back, gazing at me with wide eyes as I trotted toward the shore.

Toward my father and Araton.