Born To Rule

Chapter Two

Ihated walking these castle halls. The cold, gray stone echoed each footstep like a mocking, petulant child. The dank stench felt as if fresh air never graced the spaces within.

Without delay, I headed straight for the great hall, hoping to resolve whatever matter this summons held. It was crucial that I return to Vylandria, where I was needed, as soon as possible. My sisters were beginning preparations for the Honing, a sacred ceremony in which a high witch would be selected, and a new sister would join our ranks as coven leaders.

Death among the High Witches of Vylandria was a rare occurrence due to the extended lives we druids lived. This would only be the second Honing since our cessation over a millennia ago. That I was being called away from it only fueled my resentment.

The tight fabric of my lavender dress rode up around my hips, and I tugged it into place. My riding garb would’ve been more comfortable. Though, these gowns proved to possess their own influence—influence I strategically employed while working as the king’s liaison to the Vylandrian province.

King Carlisle passed shortly after I laid Princess Annorah’s body at her brother’s feet all those years ago. Atreus became the official immortal King of Westryelle and after a few short generations, Annorah’s name was all but lost to human memory. While most regarded her story as legend or myth, I was never so foolish.

At the great hall’s obnoxiously large doors, I paused, allowing my mana to enter before I did—carefully, as to not alert Atreus of my presence. Unless it was at his request, he didn’t sanction the use of mana within the castle. The tendrils were invisible, but I could sense them clearly. Like smoke given intention, they acted as extensions of myself, sweeping over the room.

An uncomfortable amount of negative emotion saturated the energy, and my mana shuddered from it. Heated anger, like the leftover embers of a fire. Fear—and something else. A foreign chill nestled in my lungs, at odds with the day’s tepid warmth.

I shoved the way open, and when I found it empty, unease settled beneath my skin. Stepping inside, I made the connection of what I sensed. A young woman, maybe in her twenties. She had to be the reason he summoned me.

I headed for the large council chamber where Atreus spent most of his time. Just before I could knock, the way swung open, and his severe features filled the doorway. Not an unpleasant face to look at, as much as I hated to admit it. Despite his current scowl, he usually wore a grin fit for the devil. His tall, broad stature was a huge factor in his initial appeal to the human population. His charisma was something to behold as well.

King Atreus fostered a relationship with his people. In turn, they respected him and his leadership. However, instead of using this trust to encourage humans to mend relations with wielders—or mags, as they called us—he allowed fear and distrust of mana to fester and spread.

Atreus’ eyes slid over me like a snake sizing up its prey, and I steeled my spine against my instinct to recoil.

“Sidelle, I’m glad to see you.”

“With all due respect, Your Majesty, I am eager to learn what was so important that required my immediate attention. I was making preparations for–”

“Yes, well, this takes precedence.”

Cutting me off. Off to a great start.

He stepped around me. “Cade!” His boisterous voice ricocheted off the stone walls, bringing on the first pangs of a headache. “Have two men escort Sidelle to the dungeons. I’d like for her to meet our guest.”

I pressed my eyes shut so he wouldn’t see them roll. You’ve got to be kidding me. “The dungeons?” I asked. “What was this guest’s crime?”

“No crime to speak of yet,” he said, ducking inside the chamber. The scent of boot polish and tobacco lingered in his wake. “If my suspicions are correct, then we might both have reason to be worried.”

“You already have me worried.” I ventured a few tenuous steps toward him. In truth, it was that woman’s energy that concerned me—that rich fear and anger she left behind. What had he done to her?

“I want you to feel this girl out. Tell me what you think.”

“You won’t give more detail than that?”

“No.”

It took a lot of effort not to glower at the man. “Is she dangerous?”

“She’s a bounty hunter. We’ve taken her weapons, but I wouldn’t put it past her if she killed you the first opening she got.” His face held a stoic mask of indifference.

In his eyes, my demise would be a minor drawback. He would miss the sight of my body, the convenience of knowing a seer, and the false impression that he had influence over the druids. His ego will be the death of him.

What he didn’t realize—I was the only thing that stood between him, his people, and an entire army of druid warriors.

He reopened the borders many centuries ago, but there’d been a recent uptick in poaching, exploitation, and cruelty toward Vylandrians—all of which he turned a blind eye. His arrangement with me was the only thing holding that horse at bay. Though, thanks to Brodrick, one of the newest members of the Druid High Council, my hold on those reins weakened every year.

The guards to be my escorts approached, and I nodded to Atreus. He slammed the door without a second glance.

We descended into the bowels of the castle on a series of spiraling stone staircases, all attached by zigzagging hallways. The air felt cold and damp, as if it could penetrate my bones and settle in. The reek of mildew and dirt choked every inhale. Something about this woman clearly riled him, but what?

At the bottom level, the din of shifting gravel and dripping water echoed throughout. We stopped at a nondescript wooden door while the guard lifted the ring of iron keys into the torchlight. He selected one with a wavy pattern etched onto its surface, and I couldn’t help but ponder the symbol’s significance.

He struggled with the stubborn lock for a moment before the bolt slid free. When he tugged the way open, I cleared my throat.

“I’d like to speak with her alone.”

They shared an apprehensive glance before the guard with the keys spoke. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“I didn’t ask your opinion. Wait out here.” There was more confidence in my tone than I felt. Regardless, I stepped past them, then shoved the way shut behind me. They made no move to object.

Iron bars ran the length of the chamber on either side. With shoulders squared, I canvassed the room. I sensed her, though I saw nothing. The far wall sported a door with that same wavy symbol etched onto the keystone above the frame. Interesting. At the door, I raised onto my toes to peer through the small window near the top, hoping to satisfy my curiosity. Beyond the bars was pitch black, a hollow darkness. A distant, steady roar sounded from far below, and a chill spider-walked down my spine.

The river.

I spun around at the feather-light sound of shifting feet. She’s here.

A strange chill filled my lungs, the same sensation I struggled to place earlier–

Something lurched out from behind, snaring my neck in a firm hold. I froze. My mana instinctively rose to the surface, but I kept it subdued. I sensed no intention to kill, only her need to defend herself.

“What the fuck do you want, witch?” Her voice was smooth and smoky, her tone hard. She was young, maybe just beyond her teens.

“I’m here to assess the danger you pose to the king,” I answered.

“Danger? I wouldn’t be here if the king hadn’t set those degenerate fucks on me.” She gave a firm tug as she spoke, a warning not to move, then raised her voice so the guards could hear. “And I want my shit back!”

Her words echoed off the damp walls, ringing in my ears. I’d definitely have a headache later.

“The king lacks finesse. An attribute I’m inclined to say the two of you share.”

“What do you want?” she snarled.

“As I said, to assess the danger you pose to the king.” The hostility in the air pulled my nerves taut. “I mean you no harm, and if you can prove the same, I will do my best to secure your freedom.”

“Why did he send you?” she asked.

“He and I have a—special relationship.” The words were acid on my tongue.

She released her hold, but retreated to the shadows before I managed to get a look at her.

“What does that mean?” A hint of dry amusement sharpened her tone. “Are you his magical whore or something?”

The thought of bedding that vile man… I shuddered, then feigned a gag. “Absolutely not.”

She made a soft sound, as if considering, then stepped into the torchlight’s weak glow.

“I’m going to use mana, magic, to brighten the room.” I formed my words with caution, holding my hands up in a placating gesture. “Don’t be alarmed.”

She said nothing.

With a faint twist of my wrist, I summoned all static energy nearby to flow toward me. It condensed in my palm, forming a small orb. Delicate light lit the space just enough to reduce the shadows she could retreat into or attack from. While I nestled it on the crate beside the door, her gaze tracked me, assessing, so I took care to avoid any unanticipated movements.

When my eyes found hers for the first time, I inhaled a sharp breath and paused, unable to speak. Nine hundred and twenty-three years had passed since I last saw that face. The king’s behavior made sense now, why he imprisoned her when she committed no crime. She bore the exact image of his sister, Princess Annorah, save for her black hair and the frigid, hardened distrust in her gaze.

She rocked back on her heel, arms crossed firm to her chest. “Why am I here? And why the fuck are you looking at me like that?”

I shook my head, unable to comprehend this—impossibility. “What is your name?” I asked.

“Mira,” she said, her tone razor-sharp. “Listen, this is exactly how the king’s interrogation started before he had me tied up like some godsdamned animal and dumped down here. So how about we cut the introductions and you answer my questions instead?”

Annorah’s face, but all similarities ended there. Everything from her thin, hungry figure to the sharp edge of her glare told me this girl lived a very different life from Annorah. But her energy was what truly caused me to take pause. It was akin to being locked in a room amidst an unrelenting blizzard—intense, viciously cold, and yet, so familiar.

That raw, icy essence spread to my chest, blooming outward as I stepped closer, peering into those eyes. She possessed none of the warmth that Annorah once had. Still, the longer I searched for a trace of dissimilarity, the more my certainty took root. It truly was Annorah. That truth flickered like a small flame behind a wall of ice.

There was more—it bore a striking resemblance to the dungeon’s bleak expanse. Still cold, yes, but empty.

I closed my eyes, ignoring the girl’s impatient glare, and focused. Something echoed from within her, as if calling out to whatever it sought. When I narrowed in, trying to make sense of it, the essence surged. I pulled away, nearly overwhelmed by the sheer force of it.

My heightened apprehension shook my limbs, and I perched atop the crate to compose myself enough to formulate a plan. I needed to get this girl out of these dungeons—and fast. I’d have to think on my feet.

A pregnant silence hung between us before Mira took a few careful steps closer, her eyes darting between me and the ball of light as if worried it might go out. It wouldn’t, of course. Mana didn’t work like that. It was all about… Realization hit me like a forceful wave. That emptiness, why it felt as though it were calling out—it was her mana core. Shock widened my eyes as I inwardly reached for my own, that inner sanctum in which all wielding races’ power resided. A mana core—inside a human. Just like Annorah.

As an empath, I was sensitive to the temperaments of others’ mana. Annorah’s felt like basking in the presence of an active volcano. Contained, it was a marvel of nature. Magnificent, but dangerous.

I readied myself and focused on Mira’s core again. It was equally capable of bearing such power, but it was barren. It echoed its desolation like an eerie, melancholic song.

A flood of questions drowned my thoughts, but despite my desire to spew each one at her, now wasn’t the time. I needed to put as much distance between her and Atreus as possible.

“So?”

Her voice startled me from my cascading thoughts.

“You gonna speak? Or just stare like the king did before he threw me in this shithole?”

I steadied my nerves, willing myself to maintain composure, and spoke with every bit of conviction I could muster. “There’s not enough time to disclose my knowledge. Nor for you to answer my questions—and there are many.” Her features scrunched, but I pressed on. “I’m your only way out of here, but in order to help you, I’ll need your trust.”

Repugnance flashed across her face. “You? A witch who willingly works for the king responsible for her people’s hardship?”

“What would you know of my people?” I avoided coming off as aggressive, despite how deep her words cut. I needed her to see me as her salvation, not her enemy.

“It’s no news your people suffer.” She shrugged. “I don’t take sides. I only call them as I see them. And right now, I see a traitor. So why would I trust you?”

“That’s an interesting stance coming from a human who kills humans.” I arched an eyebrow in challenge. “Sometimes we do the wrong thing for the right reason. For instance, kill to survive.”

By her scowl, it was obvious she hadn’t missed the jab. “If you know I’m a bounty hunter, then you know I can kill you.”

A faint smirk conveyed my mirth. Her arrogance was intriguing. She must be a damn good hunter with confidence like that. “That shows me just how little you understand of mana, my people—and of me.”

“As you said, I am human.”

A human that possesses Annorah’s face, a mana core, and one hell of an attitude.

I pushed out a deep sigh. This was going nowhere. “Tell me, if you refuse my aid, then what’s your plan?”

Her mouth snapped shut.

“That’s what I thought. How about we set aside our preconceived judgments, and you let me handle getting you out of here?” I stood and walked toward the girl, doing my best to ignore the uncomfortable cold that nipped at my senses.

The hem of my dress dragged like a sodden dish towel over the grimy stone floor as I stepped closer to ensure the guards wouldn’t overhear. “I will answer all of your questions if, and only if, you agree to leave Calrund with me.”

Her mouth opened, but before she could speak, I lifted a finger to silence her.

“Before you answer, let me remind you how very few options you have. I promise you this, King Atreus will not let you out of this dungeon alive—not without my help.”

The intensity in her gaze and firm set of her jaw conveyed her inclination to tell me to fuck off. Then, like a trapped predator, she paced in tight circles, picking at her lips with her nails. A few heavy sighs later, she stopped and looked around as if weighing her petty few options.

When she spoke, her tone was softer than I expected. “I know what this place is.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” I said.

Her frown deepened, then she dipped her chin at the marking above the door on the far wall. “You heard it, right? The water?”

I nodded.

“Hang around enough pubs in these cities, and you‘re bound to cross a guard or two. Their tongues loosen like any other drunken bastard.” A hint of disgust pinched her words. “They call it the shaft. Rumor has it any mag that comes to the castle is dumped down here. And they don’t leave.”

I stood there rubbing the soft fabric of my dress between my fingers, a nervous twitch, trying to puzzle out what she made of her circumstances—a human imprisoned in a cell meant for Vylandrians. The awkward silence stretched as I gave her the time she needed to form a definitive answer.

“Fine.” She huffed a defeated sigh. “Get me the hell out of here, and I’ll go with you.”

I nodded, then placed my palm over our ball of light. At the brush of my hand, it dispersed into a burst of illuminated dust, the specks flicking out one by one. I didn’t miss the spark of awe in those hardened burgundy eyes. Annorah’s eyes.

When I left the cell, I stood tall and lifted my chin. “Release this prisoner.”

Again, the guards looked at one another, and my foot tapped, conveying my impatience.

The guard with the keys spoke first. “High Witch, we would prefer to hear it from the king himself. We recall no mention of–”

“What I recall is his order for you to escort me and do as I wish.” I pitched my words higher, selling my feigned frustration. “Now, which of you would like to suffer his ire when he’s forced to repeat himself for your benefit?”

While he took a moment to ponder my integrity, I pushed my mana at their resolve, bending their judgment where my confidence hadn’t. Using my power as much as I had today was a risk, but I was done playing it safe.

The second guard shifted his weight, his armor clinking together, then nodded to his comrade to do as I asked.

“Good,” I said. “Now you may escort us to King Atreus.”

I left Mira with the guards in the great hall, then let myself into the king’s council chamber. He peered up from his work with an expectant, knowing look, and I spun on my heel to set a sound-shield spell over the entryway. A rippling sheen signified it worked, blocking any noise from leaving the room.

“How did you come by this girl, Atreus?” I asked, my back still to him.

The soft click of his quill returning to the inkpot filled the silence before he responded. “She claimed to have brought down a rather difficult bounty I posted.”

I faced him with bated breath. “Who was it?”

He rose, crossing his arms over his broad chest, then stood before the large stone table at the center of the room like a monolith. “Greggor Hood.”

My jaw clenched. A pulse of power strong enough to concuss the man surged beneath my skin, but I fought it back. Greggor Hood was dead. Tomorrow’s problem. I forced my shoulders to relax and voided all expression from my face. “And you question if she took him out?”

“Not necessarily.” He released the clasp at his neck and removed his long robes, tossing them over the back of his chair. After unbuttoning the cuffs of his tunic, he shoved the sleeves up over his muscled forearms. All the while he assessed me, waiting for me to speak the words that confirmed the suspicion he hadn’t yet voiced.

“After meeting the girl, I will say her temperament is similar to that of an angry wasp rather than a well-mannered young woman. I have no doubt she is capable of what she says.”

“Did she say anything?” The tension in his stature conveyed he was moments away from demanding I tell him everything I knew.

“Your unjustified detainment seems to have caused her to be a bit—resistant to my questioning,” I said with a bite.

His brow furrowed, and he braced his hands on the table. His slow and decisive movements were meant to be an intimidation tactic. One he often used when I challenged him. I walked on treacherous ground, but the day’s events weighed heavily on my resolve. I had no more patience for games.

“Unjustified?” Darkness settled over his features. “Sidelle, do you mean to tell me you don’t see it? I’d think that you, of all people, would find my actions entirely justified. She looks exactly like–”

“Like Annorah, I know. And you wish to discover if she poses a threat.”

Even under the heavy cloud of anxiety and anticipation, his eyes followed my hips as I moved across the room to the windows lining the wall.

“Are you saying she doesn’t?” His tone took on an incredulous edge. Though he didn’t say as much, it was obvious he wouldn’t be swayed to release her easily.

My shoulder lifted in a half-hearted shrug. “Perhaps.”

He dropped into his chair and leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Speak plainly, Sidelle. If this girl is connected to Annorah—if she is a threat to my kingdom in any way–”

“There is no connection to Annorah. Though she seems to possess a certain amount of talent for such a young age.” I chose my words with care. “Perhaps you will consider keeping her close.”

“Is it magic you sense?” he asked.

The disgust in his tone was beyond irritating. I let out a breath, ready to sell another lie. “No, I don’t believe so.” I took a few demure steps in his direction. “There’s no reason to jump to conclusions, Atreus.”

Though his shoulders relaxed some, anxious energy exuded from him, regardless. “I brought you here seeking answers, but all you’re giving me are more questions.” He flicked his wrist in a gesture of impatience. “Would it not save trouble to stifle the potential threat before it has a chance to grow beyond our control? Why bother keeping her close?”

A shiver rocked through my bones at the callousness of his statement. “You would end her life so easily? Even without concrete evidence?”

Tension darkened his earth-colored eyes. “If it means protecting my kingdom, I would do anything.”

Kingdom,I inwardly scoffed, more like power. “I don’t believe it needs to come to that.”

“What would you have me do?” he asked, voice clipped. “Let her run free in my city and just hope that nothing bites me in the ass?”

The harshness of his tone set me on edge, and I stole a moment to allow the heat pouring through the windows at my back to calm my nerves. Damn his spiteful, prejudiced ass.

I often walked this precarious tightrope with the King of Westryelle. He teetered between the level-headed ruler—who had all the answers to the inner-workings of governing a human population—and this bitter, fear-ridden man whose suspicion of wielders and their mana made him unreasonable, unpredictable even. I couldn’t decide which was worse, his ignorance, or his paranoia.

This conversation needed to get back on track. With a deep breath, I urged my mana to test the atmosphere. The tendrils discreetly uncoiled from my core like vines. They wound around him, tasting his energy while I monitored for any sign that he sensed their power.

They returned, confirming the worst of my fears. He had no intention of releasing Mira. He’d rather have her killed out of spite, just for looking like Annorah, than allow her to live in peace. Why had he bothered to send for me in the first place?

I paused at the thought. Thank the gods he did, though.

“Let the girl come with me to Raven Ridge,” I said. His features soured, but having expected as much, I went on, “If she is as clever and talented as I suspect, then I feel it would be wise to familiarize her with the Vylandrian races.”

He pushed from his seat in a disgruntled burst, making to leave.

“Atreus, please listen to me.” I was on his heels. “If we do this correctly, then you will have an assassin like none other in the kingdom, someone with experience and training amongst the Vylandrian races. If she ever does reveal some connection to Annorah, we will have seen every move she makes.”

“Seen by who?” he asked.

“Me, Atreus. Someone you can trust.”

His eyes narrowed in contemplation. I could only hope my confidence would do the trick to sell the lie I spun. I peered up at him from below my lashes, effectively sugar-coating every loathsome thought I had for this man who saw me as nothing more than a prized puppet.

He ran his hands through his short brown hair, weighing the options. All the while, I envisioned a flash of my storm-like power frying the bastard alive. Oh, the relief it would bring me. So many times I wanted to. It wasn’t cowardice that stayed my hand. It was patience, perseverance, and hope. Hope that Annorah knew of what she spoke in the days before her death, and that when Erezos’ gifted queen returned, we’d be ready.