Page 5 of The Last of the Dark Lords

It made sense that she wouldn’t have told me at the time. I was only six, after all. Still, it brought up questions. Would the current Dark Lord have a vendetta against us for the murder of his father?

“Do you think…”

“Do I think that the Dark Lord is coming back for revenge? It’s always possible, but I doubt it. By all accounts Cyrus did not mourn his father particularly, and that was twenty-two years ago.”

I nodded. I wasn’t sure how I felt. MaybethisDark Lord was not my parents' murderer, but he was still responsible for so much suffering in Fyr. Greatfalls was one of the last holdouts from his rule. The skill of the Archers was legendary, and the tales of their endless bravery kept away most would-be conquerors.

The Dark Lord, though, did have the strength for a siege if he decided the time had come. It would cost him dearly, but throw enough men at us, and who could say how long we'd hold out? Five years? Ten?

“Don’t worry about Cyrus, love. I’ll let you know when we have more news from the scouts. For now, we stay ready. The outer wall must hold. We have to protect the dam and Safehold reservoir. They are all that stand between us and the drought that ravages the rest of Fyr.”

“The Archers will be ready.” Pride bloomed in my chest as I spoke. “They are strong, Grandmother.”

“As are you, my child. As are you.”

She opened her arms once again, and I wrapped her in a hug. There was a sense of home and safety there that I had neverfound elsewhere. My memories of my parents were only fond flashes of kindness and love, of smiles and soft words. They died too young for anything more. Grandmother had been the foundation of my life.

She was the Prime of Greatfalls, and I was her grandson. I would always keep our home safe.

Chapter 2

Jelenna and I walked along the top of the dam, checking on the archers at their posts. The dam was the cornerstone of Greatfalls’ existence. The water that ran down from the mountains behind us collected there, enabling our agriculture and ensuring that we would survive even when the rest of Fyr was dry.

Which it was. As long as anyone could remember, Fyr had struggled with lack of rainfall, and the latest drought had lasted five years. I gave thanks to Vazzart that we’d been prepared for it, and prayed that the suffering in the rest of Fyr might be eased. Of course, I knew that was unlikely. Outside of our city, the people of Fyr worshiped Stahkla, the God of Fire and Metal, and followed the Dark Lord of Ashfuror. In Greatfalls, we knew both to be bringers of chaos and destruction. I had sympathy for their ignorance, but unless they rejected their ruler and their god, their lives wouldn’t improve.

As the afternoon sun beat down on our heads, Jelenna gazed out onto the water of Safehold reservoir. The water sparkled, the gentle wind creating ripples across the expanse. On the far end, the mountains rose, looming over the evergreens and wooden houses of the small city.

I found myself entranced by the thatched roofs and chimneys peeking through the greenery, brown and green, all bathed inthe bright white of midday. Inside, the people of my city went about their day, untouched by drought or violence. The lives of these families were what I sought to preserve. My own troubles were less important.

“You’re pensive.”

Jelenna’s voice startled me, bringing me out of my reverie into the present.

“The man who killed my parents is dead.”

“He is,” Jelenna replied. “But his son is still alive. You could track him down and beat the shit out of him.”

I barked out a laugh. “Sure. I’m going to go all the way to Ashfuror, hunt down Cyrus, and what? Spank him?”

“Sounds fun to me.” Jelenna winked.

“It doesn’t matter. I haven’t thought about avenging my parents in a long time.” I watched as gentle ripples traverse the expanse of the reservoir. “It’s just strange that I didn’t know. I understand. It was a long time ago, there’s no reason Grandmother would have brought it up.”

“Isn’t it recorded somewhere for posterity?” Jelenna frowned. “It seems important enough that it should be in the Archive.”

“I’m not the heir. I don’t have access to the Archive.”

Jelenna grunted. We stood there for a moment, the cool breeze lapping at our faces. Then Jelenna broke the silence.

“What if youwerethe heir?”

My shoulders tensed at her words. Why couldn’t she let this go? “I told you not to bring that up again.”

“Athard’s an asshole,” Jelenna kept on.

“No, Jelenna—”

“Your Grandmother has to see that. You would be a hundred times better than him as Prime.”

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