Page 3 of Black Sea

It was time.

“May the Spirits be with you always, fire of my heart,” Erech blessed me, kissing me on the forehead. Then, swift and flowing like water, he passed me and left the tent.

My breath grew heavier as I bit back tears. I took a moment to collect myself, then stepped outside and weaved through the chaos of tents, soldiers, and knights already mounted on their black horses, heading toward the large tents that served as stables.

When I got there, I stopped in my tracks.

My brother and his mate, Serie, with very long red hair and emerald eyes, stood facing each other as they held their horses. His free hand was placed on her heart, and hers was on his. Their foreheads touched, and their eyes were closed.

At that moment, they were each other’s entire universe. All they could feel were their heartbeats, breaths, and souls.

I was certain about that. Yet, I didn’t know what it felt like. And unfortunately, I would never find out.

As they separated to mount their horses, I made eye contact with Araton. A smirk appeared on his lips, but the sadness that flickered across his face showed how hurt he felt for not being considered worthy by our father.

Sorrowful, I greeted him and Serie with a nod and watched them trot to catch up with the armies.

A moment later, Father’s black stallion was led out by his squire, and the king briskly walked past me to mount his horse with agility. He propped the bottom of his spear against the stirrup and hesitated.

I knew he wouldn’t look at me.

That stalling was his goodbye.

Eventually, he urged his steed forward and vanished from my sight. Immediately afterward, a squire led out my black mare, Ringil, protected by black armor on her head, along her neck, around her chest and shoulders, and on her rump.

I got on the saddle and joined the sea of soldiers. When I reached the edge of the hill where we’d camped, I pulled the reins and watched with disapproval as the three legions moved down to the valley and lined up.

The humans took position on the left, the elves in the center, and the witches on the right. As the general of the men’s army began to shout loudly to motivate his soldiers, their king, riding on his mount, and the Queen of the Witches came up beside me on both sides, though they kept themselves at arm’s length.

I flared up with shame. I was a two-thousand-year-old warrior; my place wasn’t on this hill, but down there, in the front row.

Suddenly, the roars and calls of Mornon’s monsters intensified. They began pounding their massive hands—made of two deformed fingers with long, curved claws—on the ground, causing vibrations that unsettled the horses. Even from up here, I could smell the stench of the blackish slime flowing from their saber teeth and from their long, sturdy, humanoid-shaped bodies, whose skin was covered with a sticky membrane that seemed to bleed pitch.

And as demons of shadows and lightning emerged from the ground in front of that disgusting and terrifying army, the horde of beasts split in half.

To let him pass.

On the back of a mighty white stallion, clad in impenetrable and elaborate black armor, Mornon positioned himself at the head of his legion.

It was the first time that I, Araton, and his mate saw him, since we were immediately taken to safety during the attack in which he had killed Aunt Tìnuviel and stolen Calien’s Crystal.

I didn’t know what he looked like beneath his creepy helmet with metal-notched decorations that rose up his skull sides like horns. All I knew was that his eyes, visible through two sharp-edged slits, were wells of blinding flames.

“You’ve brought me so many bodies for my experiments today, King Erech,” he said in Elvish with satisfaction.

His deep and roaring voice, which seemed to come from all directions, instilled fear in the weak hearts of men, making them fidget in place. Some looked around as if searching for a way out. Meanwhile, the witches responded with wild, warlike shouts, beginning to summon their multicolored powers in their hands.

Father urged his horse forward a few steps. “We came to destroy you once and for all, Mornon the Abomination!” he shouted in the common tongue so that the humans and witches could hear and understand him.

They rose in battle cries.

Then my father, in a low voice filled with resentment, added in our language, “And I came to take my mother back.”

Mornon ran a hand across his armor plate, and the shining Calien’s Crystal appeared in the center of his chest, embedded in the metal. “Then come to die, Elf King.”

A moment later, the herd of monsters and demons charged toward us. As a single army, elves, humans, and witches advanced. When they collided halfway, a cloud of black dust rose into the air and hovered above them like a giant dome.

I strained to follow my family through the crowd, but within minutes, the area became so thick with the electric smoke released by the demons and with blood squirting everywhere that I could no longer recognize them.