Authors: Theresa M. Jones
Chapter One
Vow: A solemn promise made to a deity, monarch, leader, or other person of significance committing oneself to an act, service, or condition; A solemn or earnest declaration.
It didn’t matter how hard I pushed, I still wasn’t as fast as him. Alec raced past me, catching up to the guard before I even had a chance to fight him. Silly boy, always trying to make sure I never really had to fight in these situations.
I ignored him and moved on to the next guard. He wore the same outfit as they all did. His white shirt had turned a muddy yellow from the scuffle, and his light blue pants were stained with something I could only assume was blood.
He reached for me before I was able to attack. His huge fist flew at me, blowing my hair around as it passed by my head when I dodged it. I grabbed his arm and pulled him forward, throwing him off balance.
I pushed off the ground, my wings giving me just the boost I needed to land a perfect punch to his throat. He fell to his knees, gasping for air. And though I knew he wouldn’t be that big of a problem, especially considering his lack of air right now, I grabbed his head and brought my knees up. His nose crunched in, bruising my knee in the process. Blood pooled from his nose as he fell, unconscious to the sandy blue ground.
I turned to see how Alec was doing, and I couldn’t help but stop and stare for a moment. It never got old watching him fight. He was both strong and calm, sure and fluid, graceful and forceful. He was so powerful watching him could captivate even the strongest anti-violence advocate.
I
so
wanted to fight like that one day.
He was holding his own against three guards. As soon as he got one down, another would recover enough to rejoin the fight. I was mesmerized.
My wings bristled as they sensed a shift in the air. But they didn’t warn me soon enough. An arm wrapped around my throat, squishing my wings between my back and his chest. I had been in this situation before. I had practiced what to do. I had to focus.
I knew that my oxygen would deplete in just a short time. I had to move fast. I knew he was taller than me, my feet dangled a good two feet above the ground. I took a deep breath. Tried to calm the fast thumping of my heart. I closed my eyes and visualized my goal.
I placed my right foot on his thigh, or maybe it was his chest, I didn’t know and didn’t care. I kicked off with all my strength and threw my legs up into the air. My head easily slipped out of his grasp as I went up and over his head, landing on his back.
Now I had him in a chokehold. I knew I wasn’t strong enough to make him pass out, so I pushed myself up with my arms, and my wings did the rest, as I hovered above his head for just long enough that I could wrap my thighs around his neck. With all the strength my body possessed, and with all the strength my wings could offer, I flipped my head down and pulled his body over and down with mine. He landed face first, squishing my leg to the ground.
Yay for bruise number two. I ignored the stab of pain, and squeezed my legs with all that I was. The smash to the face could’ve possibly knocked him out, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I squeezed, squeezed harder, and finally let him go.
Just as I was pushing the heavy idiot off me, my head was yanked back and I was pretty sure I was going to end up with a bald spot right in the center of my head if he pulled any harder.
“A blond is ugly, but a blond Sylph is even worse.” He spit in my face, just as I saw the blade come lunging for my neck, I moved, but barely in time. It sliced through my shoulder, and the burn that followed reminded me of a time that wasn’t too long ago, when I was held captive and tortured. It seared me from the inside. It was gasoline and a match and a detonation all at once, and I was the wick and the bomb and I exploded in pain.
Then he was there. Always present. My steady hero. My knight that I knew would always come to my rescue. Alec grabbed the Sprite’s head before he could even register that someone was behind him and twisted. In one swift move, the Sprite would never see the light of day again. He would never take another breath. He would never know the fire in a kiss or the caress of a punch.
Alec moved him away and grabbed my face, planting a kiss that would imprint on my mind and heart forever. He pulled away quickly, too quickly, to check on my shoulder. He wrapped it in a pale piece of cloth, before helping me stand.
“Is this the only damage?” he asked me, even as he continued to search my body.
I nodded, “Yeah. I’m fine.” But he knew I was lying. Kind of. Fae can’t
really
lie. I really was okay. But my arm still hurt something fierce. And he knew what it would bring up; the festering decay that I tried to keep hidden. The pain, the agony, the death that lingered inside me from when the Mortem had tortured me for hours.
He knew I would cry tonight.
“The others have surrendered,” Lynn said as she walked up, pulling me out of my own head and back to reality.
She motioned to the ten or so guards left that were not lying dead and bloody on the ground. They were, however, still bloody.
We won.
I should feel happier about that. I should be ecstatic really. This would make our sixth win, more guards pledging allegiance to the Rebels, to the correct monarchy, to me.
And that’s why I wasn’t happy about it. Because I didn’t want to be a queen. I just wanted to be normal. But mostly, I just didn’t want Mastikh to be king any longer.
I walked behind her and Alec as we went towards the guards. I knew what would happen, but I still dreaded it. Fighting I could do. I didn’t like to kill, but I would if it was between my life and someone else’s. But allowing people to pledge loyalty to me…? Not so much.
The guards were lined up, kneeling down in a line, waiting for me. They stood, one a time, and walked over to me. The first one looked the same as all the other Sprites I had seen recently. Blue eyes. Pale skin. Black hair. Guard uniform.
Surprisingly though, this one had a blue magic etching on his face, signifying how strong he was.
“I vow to you, Princess Lily, my duty, my honor, my blade and my life. I swear to you that I will defend your cause, even as it was my own. I vow to defend the Volante Monarchy to my last breath.”
He bowed his head, and I placed my sword-my father’s sword- to each of his shoulders. “I accept your pledge and thank you. Welcome to our family.”
I wasn’t supposed to add that last part, but I liked it. I still couldn’t get over the fact that I could so easily hold the giant sword now. It was further proof that I was stronger. Better. That just maybe I could do it.
He lifted his head and offered a weak smile, before getting up and walking back to the line. And then we did it again, and again, with each new recruit.
We all gathered the bodies together. They were husbands, wives, children…people. People we had killed in this stupid war. Don’t get me wrong, I fully supported what we were doing. I knew it needed to be done. But it didn’t help the hurt in my heart as we set them, one by one, next to each other. We circled around them all, both my Rebels, and our new recruits, as we began the Dansa de la Morte.
It was just as beautiful this time, as the very first time I participated in it. I respected my Rebels, my friends, for doing this great deed to the fallen. Normally, in war, the defeated are left to venture to the Outer Realm on their own. It is a testament to how truly good we are that we offer this ritual even to our enemies. It is a testament to Lynn, for demanding it.
We all, in unison, placed our hands at our sides. I could feel the magic around us crackling, growing, sparking to life. Alec and I weren’t the only Sylph anymore, we had two others. And even three Nymph with us right now. But the majority of us were Sprites. Their cool magic flowed up and over me, my warm magic connected with theirs. I could sense each and every Fae standing next to me, around me, across from me.
Alec was directly to my right, his warmth, his smell, his being overpowering all others. We were more connected to each other, and our magic intertwined, spinning together, weaving up and through and out and down each other’s. It was beautiful. Enthralling. Intoxicating.
We pushed our hands up, lifting, pulling. Our combined magics went down into the fallen, pulling out their spirits, guiding them onward, upward, and forward. I could feel them, the dead- the beautiful. They lifted, up and out, on and on. We directed them to the barrier that split our realms, where the Empyrean touched the Outer Realm. Together we opened it, just a tiny amount, and guided their spirits through that tangible, scary, amazing wall and pushed them beyond.
They slid through, unharmed, and together our magics sealed the border. We pulled back, as one mind, one magic, and finished the hour long ritual.
When I opened my eyes again, all I saw was blue. Muircadia was in a constant state of blue, both literally and figuratively. The grayish buildings held a blueish tint, the ground, no matter where you were in Muircadia, was always blue. The walls that held out the deadly water, if you could call them that, pulsed bright and dark, shimmering the blueness into the rest of the Village.
I actually liked the color blue. But not this much.
“Hey, you okay?” Alec asked me, as he came up beside me and grabbed my hand in his, our fingers lacing together.
“I just got better.” I smiled up to him.
He nodded, and together we went back to the base, to figure out our next move.
This is how it went for us now. We find some loyalists, guards normally, those still loyal to King Mastikh and his evil plans, and we meet with them. We offer them a place with us, and they choose to fight us. So we fight back. And we win. Because we’re just that awesome.
I credit Dean and Sam for my winnings though, because without watching those tasty Winchesters fight all numbers of big bads, I wouldn’t have been as prepared to defeat the bad guys.
I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped.
“What’s so funny?”
“My brain. You should hear the things that go on in it.” In all honesty, I
did
miss watching TV, and reading, and just being normal
I would love to know all the things in your mind
, he told me. Because of how connected we were to each other, we could speak telepathically. It was both exciting and calming, because it helped solidify my knowledge that he cared for me as much as I cared for him.
Ahhh, but I’ll never tell you all my deep dark secrets.
And then I stole a move from his book and winked at him. I loved the smile that lit his face, the one that crinkled up his eyes and released hidden dimples.
I’ll find them out. Don’t you know who I am? You’ll never escape my charm
. I laughed, because even though he was joking, he didn’t really know how right he was.
“I hate it when you guys do that,” Lynn whispered, as she nudged my shoulder. Though she was mostly joking.
Though Lynn was anti-relationship for the most part, because of the dangerous course our lives were on, I think we were growing on her. And that scared her, deep down to her core. I could relate all too well. The more time I spent with her, the more I cared about her, and the more I feared the day she would die.
And she would die.
The abada told me so.
Chapter Two
Prophesy: A revealing or foretelling (something, usually a future event) by one gifted with the sight, or as if by some unique inspiration. Very few creatures in the Empyrean have the sight. Abadas, Seers, Maidens, Dwarves, and Vetalas are the main known beings with this coveted ability.
I hadn’t remembered it at first. It wasn’t until one night, when I was sleeping, rather fitfully, that I dreamt about it. It had happened just barely after I came to the Empyrean, back when I still didn’t know Alec very well, and was just barely beginning to fall head-over-heels for him. Back when I was devastated and broken inside from my parent’s death. When I still didn’t even believe everything I was seeing.
I was a different person then.
I am a killer now. I am broken, even worse than I was then. I am damaged, shattered, and dead inside. My only saving grace was Alec. My friend, my protector, the key to mending my ugly heart.
And then I remembered it, as it manifested in my dreams. When Alec and I were resting in Ardennes, and I saw my very first abada. At the time, I could hardly believe my eyes. It was beautiful and white, and the blue horns atop its head were stunning and shining. And he spoke to me.
At the time, all I heard was angelic singing, something I would only think you could hear after dying. But in my dream, I heard him clear as day.
Queen Lilka. You honor me as I speak to you, Empress of the Empyrean. Honorable Lady. Patron of the Suffering. Sovereign Mother. Strength of the Weak. Meek Princess. Lonely child. Scared outsider. Sorrowful soul.
Beware of them. They will hurt you. Beware of those you think are close to you. They will die. So many will die. Be strong. The time is nigh. Be ready, Fair Queen. Alec is your support, hold onto him. Help him, he will need it. Lynn will be gone from this Realm, unless she is saved. She needs to be saved. She will hurt your soul. Lady Minor Rita will suffer. You must be there. Be aware. Be ready.
There are many you need to defeat. You must stay strong. You must move forward. Your past is behind, fear it not.
Fear it not. For you are she. You are the Heir. Hail Lilka, Queen of the Empyrean. You will be great. Be prepared. Stay strong.
Ready. Strong.
And though, I’ve only had that dream once, I remember it. I doubt I would ever forget it. It held so much, in such a little amount. If I choose to believe that the abada is correct, then I will be queen, a pretty good queen, and many people will die. I’ll have to defeat a bunch of people, and it’s gonna be hard. And Lynn is gonna die. And Rita will suffer.
It’s crazy though, because it felt kind of glitchy. Especially around the names. He called me by my true name. But when he said the others, it was garbled, fumbled, strange. And it gave me hope maybe he got the names wrong. Well, at least hers.
After we got back to the base, we ate, and then separated to go to our rooms. Alec and I still shared a room with two beds, though we normally stayed in the same bed.
“Don’t you want to bathe first?” he asked.
I still thought it was cute the way he spoke. Bathe. I shook my head.
“No, you can.”
He came and sat next to me on the bed, creasing the covers and sinking down in the soft material.
“Talk to me.” His soft, strong fingers gently tugged my chin up, forcing me to look at him. “You never willingly give up first dibs to the shower. How’s your shoulder?” As he spoke, he pulled loose the cloth he had wrapped around the wound. The blood was already drying, so it pulled my skin with it as he took it off.
I clenched my teeth. He sucked in a deep breath as he saw the damage.
“Why didn’t you tell me it was a Fae blade?” he chastised. His fingers worked meticulously, pulling the cloth further from the wound. It sizzled, probably for real, and I felt it scourge me down to my bones.
He jumped up, grabbed some ointment, and was back sitting next to me in less than a second. He looked deep into my eyes as he scooped out the ointment and readied himself to put it on me.
I glanced down at my arm. It was worse than I thought. The gash was deep and already festering. All along my arm, my skin had turned puke yellow, until it got to the opening of the wound. There, along the edge, my normally pale skin was dark black, burned, and as you looked into the ravine, it was varying shades of brown, black and red.
“Look at me,” he demanded.
I obeyed. He kissed the top of my shoulder, just a brush of his lips, feather-light. He captured my eyes with his, insistent that I didn’t look away. I didn’t watch his fingers get closer to the cut. I didn’t. I wouldn’t. I watched his eyes only, ignoring my peripheral view.
When it touched me, my body convulsed, shaking with the sting of magic against magic. But I couldn’t shake the pain away. The burning was so bad I couldn’t even feel his hands when he placed them on top of the gash. I could, however, feel the pain lessen as he pulled out the Sprite magic that was woven in my blood, the magic that had been infused in that stupid dagger. Fae blade my ass. That was a weapon forged in the pits of hell
With each second that slipped by, the pain seeped out of me, out into the open, out into the nether. He took it away for me, pulling it out, releasing it. His face was a familiar one. His eyebrows scrunched together as he concentrated on this deep magic. It was a difficult task, something I hadn’t managed to master myself, to strip magic from blood after a Fae blade strike.
At the same time, we both felt the last bit of magic release the bond it held to my blood. I could breathe again.
Inhaling, I filled my lungs. It wasn’t like the air outside, clean and strong and pure. This was fake, a weak imitation of the real thing. But I still reveled in being able to breath without gasping at the pain.
“Thank you.” And then I swiped at the single tear that had escaped. I didn’t really cry when I felt pain anymore. Not really. This tear was born from relief. The pain was gone.
He only nodded at my expression of gratitude, as he continued to focus on my wound. The salve would heal it quickly, but he was infusing it with his own magic. I shouldn’t let him. But it felt so good. He felt so good. When he touched me, when he wrapped me in the warm embrace of his magics. He couldn’t heal me completely, and even if he could, I wouldn’t let him. He was just accelerating the process. Saturating the salve with his awesomeness.
I placed my hand on his,
I’m okay now. Thank you.
He shook his head,
I’m not done yet. I can do more.
Alec
, I placed my hands on his face and kissed him. I meant it to just be a little kiss, something to just take his mind of my shoulder. But he deepened it. He pulled me to him, into his lap. I opened my legs, wrapping them around his torso as he pulled me closer still. His hand, so strong and gentle, held onto my face, not letting me go, never letting me go.
He moaned into me, into my mouth and my body retaliated. I breathed him into me, wrapping my arms firm around his neck. I would never let him go.
His hand slid up my back, and it involuntarily arched, pushing my chest closer to him. He moaned again, deeper, huskier, thicker.
He pulled away, just briefly and started trailing delicate kisses along my jawline, then down to my neck. I shivered. I pulled him closer. He kept kissing me. My neck, just below my ear, my collarbone.
More
. I couldn’t even forms the words. But I didn’t need to.
He groaned. Then lifted me up and laid me down on the bed. I welcomed him, still between my knees. He pushed into me. I tingled. My skin was aflame. My heart souring through the clouds, faster than we could fly. I
needed
. My stomach clenched in hopeful anticipation.
His lips returned to mine, I welcomed them home.
Then he pulled away. He placed his forehead against mine.
“You don’t even know what you do to me.” His voice was ragged. I thrilled at the sound.
It was moments like these that tore away the darkness inside, replacing it with the sun. In these moments I could feel him. And I knew he loved me back.
“I’m pretty sure I do,” I answered, because I could feel him as he lay between my legs. I knew exactly what I did to him. And it amazed me that he wanted me just as much as I wanted him.
His breath was still coming out in gusts, quicker even than mine. The heat emanated down to my bones, down to the depths of my stomach, down to my very soul.
A knock on the door interrupted us.
He sighed.
I sighed harder, annoyed. He kissed my nose, just a breath of a kiss, before standing to answer it.
“Enter.”
Lynn came in, but didn’t bother shutting the door behind her. I didn’t figure she would stay long anyways.
“We have a lead. Meeting starts in ten.”
“We’ll be there,” Alec answered for both of us.
After she left, he turned and looked at me.
“Guess it’s not time to rest yet.” He sighed as he said it. I knew he was even more tired than I was.
“No rest for the wicked.” I winked at him.
“You wanna freshen up before we go?”
I nodded and then went to the bathroom. I rinsed the blood off my arm, avoiding the wound that was already beginning to close. When I pulled the tank off over my head, my shoulder barely even ached at all, hardly registered the move. Alec did more than he should’ve. He
really
needed to rest.
I splashed water on my face, and threw on fresh clothes, before walking back out into our room.
Together we went to the meeting room, where we often held our Rebel discussions and made plans. Many were already there. Several I knew. Most, though, I was not close to at all. I had adopted Lynn’s reaction to people. Don’t get too close because they could easily die. This lifestyle was not an easy one.
Trying to take down a monarchy was way harder than it sounded.
Killing people is harder than it looks.
Seeing people you care about die around you is hardest of all.