Page 81 of Of Nightmares & Fire
“It’s ok, princess. He took from you too. Don’t think you don’t belong right here.” Mavros whispers for only me to hear. He pulls me to where the sand has been cut from the ground in steps, with stone laid on the surface, making tiered seating around the pyre. Mavros gestures for me and Cole to sit, and he, Zinya, and Viltarin take up the space behind us.
When I look back toward the pyre, it’s Kyros’ stare that slams into me. If I didn't know any better, I’d say he looks worried. His eyes flick over my shoulder, and I follow them to see Mavros with his usual grin gone and only a flat line in its place. Gone is the joking twin, and back is the warrior brother. It doesn’t give me confidence that whatever is happening is going to be good. The man standing next to Kyros continues on with his speech about guiding the light of the flame to Runerth and picking apart everything my father has done during his reign.
My eyes stay on Kyros, though. His shoulders remain rigid as he stands next to the Neer leader, as though every word is pulling an invisible thread that is ever tightening his posture, the scowl in his face deepening with every tug.
“Since the night the false king stormed our lands, there has been one thing keeping us all hopeful for the future. The true heir will light the pyre, and he will rise with the flames, just as the Shula Morana. He will be our death flame, and when it is all burned away, a new era will remain!” The word sounds like a gong in my head; loud, echoing, and absolute. My eyes flutter as I try to makesense of what I am hearing and what I am seeing. The Neer leader hands Kyros the torch. With the firelight closer to his face, I can see the jump in the muscle of his jaw. He stares into the flames, then his brows furrow further as he looks up to me. Our eyes clash like swords in battle. Questions, answers, hurt, and betrayal—it all swirls through the air, sinking into me with every breath.Shula Morana: Death Flame. Shewill be the death of you.She will be the death of us all.
Colette reaches over, grabbing my hand, and I can hear her hushed tone as she says my name, but I can’t rip my eyes away from the man lighting the pyre. The prince of Eathian. The true heir of the kingdom my father stole.The true King?Bile rises in my throat and tears well in my eyes, but more than that, the heat in my chest burns with my rising anger—and something else. I attempt to stand, but a large hand claps down on my shoulder, keeping me in place. I draw my gaze from Kyros, turning to see who is holding me down. Mavros leans in, his hand firmly keeping me seated, but not painfully.
“For what it's worth, we told him to tell you.” Mavros says with remorse, and I can’t help it; the first tear escapes beyond my lashes. My lip trembles, as do my hands, but I steel my spine. I turn back toward therightfulheir: the King. His back is to me as he makes his way around the base, lighting the woven branches into a grate of roaring flames.
“I can’t be here.” I didn’t mean to speak the words aloud; they snuck out just like the tears that now steadily stream down my face. I turn my head and look at Cole. Deep-rooted sadness is filling hereyes. Eyes that likely mirror my own. I was just beginning to feel as though I was somewhere I belonged. I was just starting to feel that perhaps—I could trust. Now everything burns.Shula Morana; Death Flame.
“We have nowhere else to go.” Colette’s voice is so small, smaller than I have heard it in a very long time. Her chin wobbles, and I shake my head, denying that she is right. Snatching my hand out of hers, I stand abruptly. Mavros goes to stop me, but Zinya grabs his arm.
“Let her go. She can’t go far. She needs a minute to come to terms.” She hisses at him, and even as he looks at me warily, he nods before I turn and run. My feet dig into the sand darkened by the night above. The stars seem to have hidden the moment that realization hit. I was never running. I was aprisoner, led to believe my captors cared for me. My mind is now playing so many things on repeat: conversations I overheard and conversations I was a part of. How could I not see what was right in front of me? I am a fool. Always used. I am a pawn. Betrayal burns my eyes and eats at my heart.It was all a lie.
I get far enough away that the pyre is just a beam of flame in the distance through my tear-streaked vision. I drop to my knees in the sand. My head falls backward as I bare my soul to the nonexistent stars.Why? What did I do to deserve this life?
The sand around my knees begins to vibrate and pulse. Each second it continues, it seems to intensify with ferocity. Then I recognize the feeling, the rhythm. My eyes snap forward and blink rapidly to clear the blurry tears from my vision. Not far in thedistance are horses carrying soldiers who wield sharp blades. The deadly curved blades I would recognize anywhere glint in the moonlight.
My father’s men.
They found me.
I’m at an impasse. Do I run back to the evil I know, no matter how much I despise him? Or turn back to the man who has lied to me since the moment I met him? Just the thought of going back to my father makes my already aching heart break. My soul is pulling me back to the others, to Kyros. My mind is at war with emotion.
I clench my fists at my sides before pushing up from the ground. This isn’t a question about who to trust or who to run to. It’s a choice I was never able to make on my own, and now that I can, I realize that someone I’ve almost never chosen isme. When I decided to leave Eathian, I chose myself at that moment, and tonight I will make the same choice again. I chose me, and I chose the people who can’t choose for themselves, like I haven’t been able to my whole life.
Shula Morana; Death Flame.
I turn back the way I came. I need to—
Screams.
Awful, bloodcurdling, and terrified screams fill the space between me and the pyre. Smoke plumes from the pyre and obscures the star-streaked sky with bleary darkness. I’m running through the sand before I even think to make the decision. Toward the screams and the cloud of what appears to be smoke. As soon as I get close enough to see the people running frantically, I realize that it’snot smoke at all but rather a dark, powerful magick. Magick that I’ve seen before. It caresses my skin like a shaken lover. Raw elation floods me as the shadows blanket over me in a protective second skin. The magick trembles, as if the energy itself could exhale a sigh of relief. Relief that intertwines with my own.
A loud clicking growl breaks my momentary lapse of attention; I swallow as I force myself to keep moving. Quickly, I unsheathe the blades that were a gift from Kyros. They hum in my grip with the same anticipation I feel in my gut. A Cerkin steps forward and tilts its monster-like head at me.Don’t let them touch you.Kyros’ warning from the last time I faced one of these creatures echoes through my mind. Easier said than done I’m sure…He’s not here this time. You have to protect yourself.I grit my teeth and settle my path toward the beast who stands in my way, ready to face the fight it will undoubtedly give.
A sudden shrieking cry sounds close above me, and my head snaps back just in time to see a Thunderbird dip into the darkness. It dives right into the Cerkin that has its sights set on me. Though the Cerkin is a giant, the Thunderbird is no small creature. Its deadly clawed feet pierce through the barrel of the Cerkin’s chest with enough speed to spear it all the way through. Powerful downthrusts of its wings a moment later leaves black blood raining from the sky as one monster carries away the other.
Another shriek, another thunderbird, another Cerkin, and another dead—dozens come into view. The Thunderbirds are not attacking the Neer people, but their savage beaks pierce through the deadly herd of Cerkins that have been let loose to ravage thegathering. My head whips from side to side as I spin in circles, watching as the Thunderbirds seem to come to my aid.
“Kyros and Mavros of Diemos! Release my daughter or pay the ultimate price!” I hear a familiar voice bellow from behind me. My heart beats at a thunderous rhythm as my attention shifts from the carnage unfolding before me and now towards my approaching father. Dread coils around my spine at the sound of his voice. I scan the surrounding area desperately for a way to escape. But an odd wave of relief floods me as I see someone I recognize coming from the direction of the pyre.Mavros. Even though seeing him makes the hurt caused by their lies surface. Seeing him charging forward on his horse, alive and well, makes me realize I’m still relieved that he is ok. Zinya sits backward on the saddle behind him, arrows flying and meeting the flesh of men and beast alike. Trailing behind them is another horse in a streak of gray, mounted by two more riders, Viltarin with Colette behind him. Her hair whips out behind her like a crimson flag of warning, as she too wields a bow and arrow. Pride fills me to see my friend look so rightfully placed. She’s always been a warrior in my eyes, and now she finally is able to wield the weapons that will strike down anyone who aims her harm. Although my heart aches with betrayal, I still find myself hoping that Kyros too is okay.
I’m afraid to call out. The last thing I need right now is to bring attention to myself. I am in the center of two powerful forces and frozen with fear. My feet are leaden with doubt, though, as I see my father swing a blade through the air. Blood rains over him from the Thunderbird he just slain, and bile rises in my throat.
The remaining Cerkins left standing are halted at once. The Thunderbirds fly higher in the dark sky and cry out in a chorus of panic as a shuttering, forced movement takes over all of the Cerkin, making all of their unseeing eyes turn toward me in unison. It’s beyond eerie and sends a coldness to slither down my spine. A vortex of dark matter begins to swirl in the center of the dunes of ruin. A crackle of fire ignites the churning smoke as it now spreads into a portal, just as when Kyros renders one. The Cerkins that have stopped turn their flesh and bone bodies fully to me now. Each one letting out a horrendous echoing howl. I imagine this is what it would feel like to have your soul brought to the demons that guard the entrance of the damned. As the vortex continues to open, the creature that has haunted my nightmares steps from its center. Chaos, blood, and death emanate from him, and he is even more terrifying in this moment than any of the other times I have seen his bone-covered face.
I notice movement and see Cadoc as he rides up to my left, just beyond where my father sits with his fancy armor better suited for books than actual battle. His slack-jawed expression would be priceless, though, if not for the dire nature of the situation we are all now in. Both of their eyes finally see me, where the monster has set his sights. Their gazes drop down to the blades in my hands, the leather wrapping around my body, fitting me like a glove. Cadoc says something to my father that I cannot decipher, and then he points back at the nightmare creature.
Quickly, I spin back to face the creature of my nightmares, but what I see instead causes more confusion. The portal does notclose; the vortex continues to be active, and another figure now steps through it. My heart pounds in my chest, and I have to forcibly stop the tears from falling from my eyes. I have had plenty of experience in having to do so; it’s not nearly as hard to do as it used to be. Although, with all the emotions that have been storming through me recently, it is notably harder. My father is screaming demands, and the Thunderbirds are screeching in the sky. The fighting continues on, and the wind feels unnatural. It’s even harder to keep myself strong staring at the scene before me, but I must.
“Stop all of this.” I bite out under my breath as tears breach the barrier of my lashes and streak my face and wet my lips. My tongue comes out involuntarily, causing me to taste the salty weakness. The bitter tang of them causes anger to thrum in me once again. The figure who was coming through the portal is now visible. When the rendered portal snaps shut, it's like we are thrust into a bubble of calm, though the scene around us is anything but.
A woman. She saunters toward me like she is taking a stroll through a garden on an average summer night, ignoring all the death and chaos that consumes the desert around her. Her eyes lock on mine as she strides into the direct path of moonlight. It’s like a spotlight shining down on her. Bodies of creatures and men create dark stains that sink into the sand. Steaming puddles oozing black blood with pieces of Cerkin antlers still sticking out from them litter the ground and paint the scene around her in horror.
The bright firelight to her right dances, reflecting on her long, golden brown hair and illuminating the deep red sheer fabric thatflows around her like an aura of fire. My breath stalls in my lungs when she speaks.
