Page 2 of A Tale of Treachery

There always was.

“But you’re the same age as me,” I whispered in my defense, cautious not to upset him any further. “If my magic even existed, it should have appeared by now…I’m not like you, Malachi. I’m moreordinarythan not.”

I didn’t know why he was gifted with shade magic and I wasn’t, but after seeing the change in him when he’d gotten his magic, and the way the whispering voices of the otherworld drove him mad, I didn’t want magic. Ever.

Anger seeped from deep within his pores at my use of the wordordinary,and his hand moved down as he wrapped it around my neck, issuing a soft squeeze.

“We are the same. Your magic will come, but you will not question me. Don’t forget that I came into this world before you and will always know more than you do.”

By only a day, I wanted to retort, but nodded instead, his grip relaxing upon my surrender.

I yearned to rage and fight back against him, but it would be useless. I was powerless, so much like everyone in the order. They all bowed down to him, this thirteen-year-old boy, and so would I.

My head lowered in submission, and he released his hold and stepped back. “It’s nearly dinnertime. Come back to the camp…” His voice trailed off, his eyes glazing over as he tilted his head to listen to silent whispers. I couldn’t hear the words myself, but a part of me often wondered if he was possessed.

I braced myself for whatever he’d heard. Unfortunately, the whispers were never pleasant, and chaos and death by his hands often followed.

“What do you mean?” he questioned the voices in his head, black slowly overtaking the blue of his irises.

Malachi stood silently, listening to the words that clawed through his mind before responding in a strange language, a tongue of grunted and hissed syllables that sent chills skittering along my spine.

The smell of burned meat and charred earth seeped into my nostrils, and a sense of foreboding tingled at the base of my skull.

He took my wrist and, without a word, dragged me back toward the camp, his grip tight enough to cut off circulation. All I could do was follow along, my feet dragging in the mud, the sense of impending doom growing stronger with each step.

The thinning tree line indicated our arrival, the smell of flames and smoke growing overpowering as we drew near. Screams echoed through the dark, stuttered begging and pleading.

The golden crest and silver armor that the soldiers of Cambriel donned when going to battle flashed before my eyes.

A war had begun.

There was a change in the air, and the constant shadows of the sky thinned, allowing the slightest ray of sunlight to break through. My eyes went wide as the magnificent heat of the sun whispered across my skin, and my jaw dropped at a glimpse of light.

The sun. For the first time in my life, I could see the sun.

Malachi’s grip turned bruising, snapping me from my wonder as a wicked fury stretched across his face. His eyes turned darker than midnight, a look that spelled certain death to anyone who dared wage war against the order and their gods.

A howl tore from his throat, a dark, rumbling noise rending the air as power and black flames ripped out of him. For a moment, time seemed to freeze, and then a blast wave knocked me off my feet, sending me sprawling into the mud.

When my eyes opened, there were only dark flames and death.

Smoke filled the air, and I coughed, rising to my feet to take in my surroundings. My eyes squinted, searching for any signs of life, but none could be found.

Everyone was gone. The invading soldiers were no longer fighting…no longer even in existence. Even those in the order who had raised us and treated us as their own were nothing but ash on the wind.

Malachi had destroyed everyone and everything, leaving nothing but flames and embers behind. My eyes glazed over at the sight of the crumbling structures we’d once called home.

“Come,” he commanded, dragging me along the encampment to the stone temple that once housed worshippers, now dead and deserted. He took my hand and set me atop the altar centered between marble columns, and pressed his forehead to mine. “Wait here for my return. I need to take care of something. Do not leave. Do not move until I come back.”

I inclined my head, knowing there wasn’t a choice. Everyone was gone, my home was destroyed, and I couldn’t run away. The outside world hated the order for what they’d done, and they hated the shades even more.

“Good,” he said before turning to leave.

His slight frame exited the temple, and I trembled, rocking back and forth. A tiny voice in my head told me to flee, but I was too shocked to move.

“Oh, excuse me, little one.” A warm voice cut through the temple. “Are you all right?”

My head twisted toward the amiable voice, and my eyes locked on a tall, gangly man who couldn’t be older than thirty. He smiled and awkwardly pushed some strange wire and glass contraption up the bridge of his nose, centering it along his eyes. His messy brown hair twisted in the wind.

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