Page 5 of A Wrecking of Salt and Fire

“The winds blessed us, my boy. It is not every day your only son celebrates his betrothal. Not every day an Acknowledgement occurs.” King Athanas smiled, the corner of his lip raising up to show off his shaven teeth. Warriors in Votios all bore this distinguishing feature, reminiscent of the fangs of a viper. It was said to have originated from ancient times where the soldiers would rip out the throats of those they defeated in battle. An outdated tradition Kohl was rather glad his father never asked him to keep, although he was sure the king thought less of him for it.

He searched his father’s face with curiosity, looking to see if anything showed the real reason he arrived with the rising sun. Usually the Morentian fleet only sailed under the stars for battle. Never for pleasure. Never for another isle. Especially never for Kohl. King Athanas turned from his son and pointed at one of the guards, signaling them to bring down his trunk. “And where is that bride of yours? Aikaterine did not feel like greeting me here as well?”

Kohl rolled his eyes, the first dig of many toward his princess. The king never particularly liked her for anything but her claim to the throne of Alentus. Kohl hoped that if the two of them spent more time together he would come to like her. Or like her as much as the king liked anyone.

“She was meeting with her mother since she missed breakfast.” Kohl winced as soon as the words left his mouth. In the Athanas household, they were always required to attend meals.

“And why did she miss breakfast on such an important day? Does she not take my arrival seriously? The requests of her mother seriously?”

Kohl sucked in a breath and tried his hardest not to roll his eyes a second time since his father’s arrival. The king was in a foul mood despite making great time on the seas. “It’s not that, Father. She needed time to pull herself together. She started having nightmares again.” The look in the king’s eyes made Kohl instantly regret mentioning this. His look of discontent at the fact that there may be something wrong with an heir apparent. That a royal plagued by terrors at night would not be fit to lead in such contentious times.

Kohl could not believe Katrin kept this from him for two months. Two months. The anger started to boil again in his chest. So much so, that he almost missed the twitch in his father’s eye when he spoke.

“Nightmares. That is unfortunate. Very unfortunate indeed.” The king’s eyes narrowed. “Has she shared details with you? Does she remember anything new about that time?” Kohl knew his father was pretending to seem interested, his gaze shifting toward the shoreline. He tucked that away for another time. He didn’t want to argue with Khalid today. Not this early in the day at least.

“I don’t think so. Well, she hasn’t said anything to me at least. I just found out about them this morning. Why do you ask?” Kohl tried to study his father again, but the king’s face stared back firm and cold.

“Just curious. We never caught the ship or the man who took her. I know I didn’t let you retaliate against Nexos, but that does not mean I don’t want to see those people burn as well.”

The sincerity surprised Kohl, but he did not care at this point. He’d long since given up seeking the approval of his father, rather he just tried to not be an utter disappointment.

Kohl fought back rebellions in the northern continent of Voreia, learned the languages of his father’s homeland, read all the books on seafaring and warfare and ruling in the Morentian Library. It would never be enough. Not until King Athanas brought peace to the entire Mykandrian isles, to the entire world of Odessia at that.

They trekked along the sands of the coast, up the rocky path to the castle set on the cliffs. His father was hushed and pondering the rest of the hike, always glancing back out at sea. Kohl watched him, trying to catch some glimmer of emotion. Trying also to not think of his tortured bride, speaking somewhere in the castle with her overbearing mother.

Continuing up and up the curved path overlooking the harbor, Kohl thought about how he now considered this isle, this castle his own. It would be one day soon. There was no chance Katrin would give up her title in Alentus to someday be a Morentian queen.

No, he would rule beside her as consort to the throne. He would be her second. Give up title and power and promise for his people, but that never bothered him. All he cared about was her. All he fought for was her. Her safety, her love, her home. To see that smile that once had been stripped from her face, the smile that he brought back to her those years ago. For that brilliant smile he would go to war. Kohl just hoped war was not the reason his father arrived early.

He had heard the whispers in the breeze, that the King of Nexos was on a warpath. But not just that, the Prince of Nexos was slated to assume the throne with no Acknowledgement. His jaw clenched at the thought. The thorn in his side since they were children. The man that threatened his kingdom, Katrin’s kingdom. Nikolaos Kirassos the Second, that snide and cocky eldest son. He had not been outside of Nexos in years, hidden away until the older Nikolaos deemed him fit to rule.

“So are you going to tell me why you are really here, Father, or do you expect to keep me in the dark the whole time?”

King Athanas looked back at his son, his ebony eyes wide, and smiled.

Chapter Four

Katrin

Dread ran through Katrin’s whole body as she stood outside her mother’s bedchamber. It was not that she didn’t want to see Kora, but more so that she didn’t want to be lectured by a very opinionated woman. She had a right to be opinionated, after all she was the queen. Not only Queen of Alentus, but Queen of the Grechi. Ruler of the gods. Katrin was raised, rather groomed, to walk in her mother’s footsteps. To eat, sleep, drink, breathe royalty and grace.

Katrin never wanted it. Never wanted to be the heir to that sort of throne. Knowing that once she turned twenty-five and married Kohl she would not see her mother again, until her own first born became that same sacred age. The power that came with her line could only run in one god at a time, and when her powers fully blossomed, her mother would need to sail to Cyther, the isles of the Grechi. Spend the rest of eternity in the lush green meadows, crystal mountain tops, and shimmering seas. Relinquish her power back to the land, a price that must be paid for her years living on this earth. It was not fair that only Kora and her line suffered this fate.

Her duty, her honor, her life’s mission, Kora would always tell her in the most excessive of ways. But a small part of Katrin wondered if her mother was only that way to hide her fears. Fear that she would no longer be there to protect her daughters, fear that she may simply be forgotten.

That was why her upcoming birthday was so important. At twenty-five, her powers could be accessed, but only once she bonded to her Fated would she be able to wield them fully. It was said that the two powers of each Fated would wield together, forming two halves of the same coin. Like her mother and father. Sun and Darkness. Life and Death.

Yet Kohl did not have any power. She wondered if the Fates saw something else brewing for him. If something lay beneath, in his bones, forgotten.

Katrin would need those full powers if she was to lead Alentus and Morentius in battle against Nexos. If she was going to look into King Nikolaos’ eyes as she slit the throat of the man who captured her—the power of the seas be damned.

Bronze chilled her palm as Katrin traced the carving on the door of the stars and sun and lightning, her parents’ symbols—her symbols—and knocked.

Peering in through the door, Katrin caught the woosh of papers being scattered across her mother’s desk. If she didn’t know any better, she could have said Ember snuck in and was the one sitting in front of her now, rustling about through political correspondence. But her mother’s hair was now cut much shorter, the strands the color of a sparking bolt of lightning brushing just over her shoulders. Her eyes, although the same piercing gold as her sister, were surrounded by fine lines and worry.

“I thought you would stand outside that door all day,” Kora’s voice held in the air, smooth and sweet as honey.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t at breakfast this morning, Mother.”

---