Page 72 of Dreams of Ash and Smoke

Verena stands by my side, her hand finding mine in a reassuring grip. “We will get through this together,” she whispers, her voice unwavering.

We head toward our room, in an attempt to sleep.

But sleep eludes me, the weight of impending battle pressing down on my chest like a heavy stone. I lie there in the darkness, the faint sounds of the kingdom outside my window a stark reminder of what we stand to lose. Verena’s breathing is steady beside me, a calming presence in the midst of chaos.

As I turn to gaze at her sleeping form, a wave of protectiveness washes over me. She is not just my queen, but my partner in every sense of the word. The thought of anything happening to her sends a shiver down my spine, and I vow silently to myself that I will do everything in my power to keep her safe.

I slip out of bed quietly, careful not to wake Verena. The floorboards creak softly under my weight as I make my way to the balcony overlooking the kingdom. The moon hangs low in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the landscape below.

In the distance, I see the faint glimmer of light in the woods and immediately I know who it is.

The witch of the woods has come, her presence an omen that sends shivers down my spine. I leave Verena, blissfully unaware and sleeping soundly, as I descend from the balcony. The forest calls to me, its gnarled trees whispering ancient secrets that only I can interpret. As I step into the darkness of the woods, a sense of eerie familiarity washes over me. In a clearing illuminated by a haunting moon, the witch awaits me with her wild silver locs glinting like shards of starlight, her piercing gaze burning straight through me.

“Witch,” I address her with reverence, “What message do you bring in this time of turmoil”

The witch’s piercing gaze bores into me, her smirk revealing centuriesof cunning and unfathomable power. She raises a hand and the very air around us seems to tremble with unseen magic. My mind is bombarded with strobing images of epic battles fought, lives lost, and destinies entwined.

“The threads of fate are in chaos, Eryx,” she intones gravely. “But there is still a glimmer of hope, if you have the courage to listen.” Her words send shivers down my spine. “Verena will perish in this war, but only you have the power to save her life.”

A frigid shiver races down my spine as the witch’s words linger in the air like a cursed enchantment. The prophecy of Verena, my cherished queen, destined to meet her end in battle unless I take action. The realization of her potential demise crushes me under an avalanche of fear and anguish, my heart pounding erratically as I struggle to comprehend the enormity of this foretelling.

“What must I do?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper, fear and determination warring within me.

Chapter 40: We Will Not Falter

Eryx

As the first rays of dawn creep over the horizon, the castle awakens with a sense of impending doom. I hadn’t slept after the witches words to me but I know what I had to do and I would try not to worry about it until then.

The clang of metal, rustling of leather, and the stamping of hooves fill the courtyard as soldiers hastily arm themselves, their weapons glinting in the early light. With grim determination etched on their faces, our forces gather, prepared to fight to the death to protect our home from the looming danger that hovers over us like a vulture waiting to strike.

Verena and I get ready in our room, donning the same black as night fighting leathers as our soldiers.

With Dryston’s ability to manipulate metal, we couldn’t chance wearing it. However, after learning that he can’t manipulate metal once Verena’s blood coated the steel, we had our blacksmiths lace each new sword and dagger with some drops of her blood she had donated while I was at Elmswood.

She is so ravishing in whatever she wears and I have to constantly adjust myself in my leather pants at the thought of her being the Queen this country needs.

Ruelle watches everyone getting ready, helping soldiers when they need it, as does my mother. Barely anyone speaks as we ready ourselves.

I face Verena when we make it from our rooms to the courtyard. Civilians watch as we ready to leave.

“No matter what happens, we leave the battlefield together.” I say.

Her bright eyes shining at the sight of me, “Always, my love.”

Verena clasps my hand tightly, her grip a reassuring anchor in the midst of turmoil.

Beneath the crushing weight of our insurmountable responsibilities, we trudge through the corridors toward the courtyard. The air is thick with the stench of fear and the anticipation of battle, a palpable tension that threatens to suffocate us. As the sun rises higher in the sky, it casts a crimson glow over the fortified castle and its inhabitants, standing strong and resolute in the face of inevitable peril.

Silence descends upon the courtyard like a heavy blanket as we make our way through the crowd of soldiers and civilians. Their eyes are alight with a dangerous mix of apprehension and courage, mirroring the tumultuous emotions raging within each of us. Verena’s mere presence demands respect, her unyielding gaze observant through the bravado of our troops. With a voice like steel, she addresses us, instilling a fierce determination in our hearts that echoes off the stone walls around us. I nod to her, allowing her to speak instead of me.

“My fellow Khyrelians,” her voice carries with authority, cutting through the tense silence. “Today, we stand on the brink of battle. Our enemy approaches, seeking to claim our land and our freedom. But we will not yield. We will not falter. We will not cower in the face of adversity.” The crowd of soldiers raise their swords in the air, cheering for her, for each other. “And most importantly, we will not die cowards.” More cheering sounds.

We all mount our horses, waving goodbyes to our loved ones and riding off toward the border.

The pounding of hooves echoes in my ears, each beat a reminder of the impending clash that awaits us. The wind whips through my hair as we gallop out of the castle grounds and around Asterlayna, the sun casting long shadows behind us. Verena rides beside me, her eyes fix on the horizon withunwavering determination. The weight of our kingdom’s future rests heavy on our shoulders, but in this moment, all that matters is the thundering rhythm of our horses’ strides and the unity of our army riding as one toward destiny.

As we ride, I hear constant chatter. Some are quiet, silent in their turmoil. A raven seems to follow us and I note Verena’s gaze upon it every time it flies by her. The landscape stretches out before us, a vast expanse of rolling hills and dense forests that hide both friend and foe alike. We don’t slow our pace, knowing that every step brings us closer to the enemy that lurks just beyond sight but the faster we are, the less likely Dryston will make it far past the border.

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