The Knight (The Heir #1.5)

2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I t was dark in that hospital room, where I lay close to her. It was so dark and so painfully silent—other than the whirl of the machines, echoing to the beating of her heart—her sad, broken, unmendable heart.

“Em,” I whispered into her hair as I placed my lips upon her head, not kissing her, exactly . Still, the pull I felt toward her was stronger than ever. I watched the machines’ lights for a time as they flickered and blinked on and off as she slept. The strength of the bond between us always surprised me; it became even stronger after her parents’ deaths because, in their absence, her soul’s melody had been set free.

As I continued to stare at the machines, which tracked Emma’s precious life, their constant beeping and flashing lights reminded me of an ambulance’s emergency siren, and I had to turn away. She had cried for hours. How could anyone blame her? I couldn't help but cry, too, as I held her in my arms. How did this happen? How did I let this happen? I wanted to curse the Ancients—or my bloodline of guardian knights—anything and everything. My royal heir was murdered while I still lived!? Let’s just say, that wasn't something I ever expected to experience in my life, and I never wanted to experience losing him—Lamont. His loss would haunt me until the day I died.

It was understood by all guardian knights—what excruciating pain we would feel if our heir ever died. We were taught what happened when our royal descendants moved from this life to the next. The echo of the guardian warning wailed inside of me: “ We feel it in our bones, in our souls, and we will know the loss of them until our own hearts stop beating.” I had been taught that warning since I was a child. Still, the realization of what life would be like without him and of the pain that Emma would endure because of the loss of him? I couldn’t think about it for too long. It was so very painful.

Where was he? Was he with the Ancients? I called forth my belief in them, my faith. I paused as I let part of my melody free, and I listened as it reached out to her. I watched as she moved closer, her melody reacting to mine. Could she sense me? I tried to ignore it, to focus on the silence of the room, instead of the constant beep of the machines, but her melody was too strong to ignore.

Most knights never experience such feelings of failure, nor of the sorrow that accompanies their heir’s death—because they sacrifice themselves, their very lives. Most guardian knights of Terra die in the service of the heir line. I would have gladly given my life for Lamont. I just didn't get the chance. Why had I been at that football game? I wanted to punch something, to yell and wail from the pain within my soul. I wished to no longer exist, but then I remembered Emma, there in my arms, broken and weak, and I knew that above all else, she needed me.

I patted my face where the tears had poured silently down. I knew that Emma didn't need to see me weak, not when she was so broken. I knew exactly what she needed; she needed a home, a place she belonged, and I wouldn't move an inch away from her until I wasn't needed anymore. I would be anything and everything that she would need or could ever want. It was my purpose; she was my reason for living. Yet—I felt more than just the guardian knight’s commitment to her. I wished that I could kiss her, feel the curves of her lips on my own.

An ache built up within my chest. Dark brown hair rustled—silver eyes looked back at me in my mind.

That was an impossibility, I reminded myself. Emma was my second chance. I cleared my throat and looked away from her. The pull, the ever-constant need, I had to kiss Emma never left me unless I remembered her .

I looked to Emma as my distraction, the anchor to the present. I reached out to touch her lips with my fingertips. It was as if they specifically called out to me, drawing me to her, begging me to truly be hers. Still, she didn't know what a kiss meant—she didn't know what a kiss from me meant . No one except Mary knew what my kiss really meant. And while I wanted her kiss, and I knew a kiss from Emma would finally replace my pain with peace, I pulled away yet again. She buried her face in my chest, wrapping her arms tighter around me. Her melody ached, and a river of feelings poured from her directly into me. It appeared that she believed that if she let go of me, she would never get me back.

“I’ll always be here for you, Em.” The words were automatic—my own feelings, mingled with my guardian knight duties. She was my heir. She was my heir to protect, and I swore it again, right then in that hospital bed with her cradled in my arms: I would protect her. I would be anything and everything she needed. It was my duty, and I would fulfill it. I felt the oath of the guardian knights pass through my lips in a soft whisper as I lay close to Emma:

“May my melody never corrupt,

may no vow I make break,

may my soul never sing false,

and may no heir die before my last breath.”

The knowledge that I had failed hit me again. The sting of living without Lamont hurt more than I could ever express. If I moved forward with Emma would I lose her too? Lose her like Ana, Lamont, and Ara? So many deaths, deaths I should have prevented.

“May no heir die before my last breath,” I whispered again, disgusted with myself. I wasn't sure that I would ever be able to use the ancient gifts again, because I had failed in the worst way possible, but I would do all that I could to keep the vow I had made to Lamont to keep Emma safe. The inhabitants of this realm, while human like Terrans, were very different from my world. Humans in this realm were very bold. They also had no shame. I had learned a lot over the years about how these non magical humans readily went after their dreams, often breaking the rules; they did all they could do to force their wills to win their way in the world—to follow their heart's desires. Whenever they did that, when they broke the rules and forced their own wills upon others, they did not seem to suffer much from doing such things; it was odd. I didn't think I could ever live with myself if I were to break a vow. I could barely live with myself as it was, knowing that I hadn't been there to prevent Lamont from dying. Those observations, which I had made over the years—that so many humans did not take their vows, promises, and duties seriously—alarmed me.

Earth was a strange place.

I knew that I would do anything and everything within my power to protect Emma from all danger and from the corruptor. If an heir ever became corrupted, the vows and the ancient powers bestowed upon them wouldn’t hold and wouldn't work any longer. Similarly, if I became corrupted, it would strip me of my birthright. Being anything other than a guardian knight was unfathomable to me. I loved being a guardian knight of Terra.

The constant need I had to protect, help, and comfort her was so intense that it was hard to breathe as I held her, especially with her soul’s melody fully exposed. The one thing I feared most was that Emma might be the one person in all the worlds who could cause me to break all of my vows and all of my promises—if doing so would make her happy. I knew I would do just about anything for her. I was desperate for even an ounce of the happiness I once had enjoyed with Ara by my side. Emma, she was the answer. I knew it. If I was honest with myself, however, if I was totally and completely honest, the truth about the power that Emma had over me to make me do what she wanted, because of how I felt about her, terrified me. She had become my everything.

There was only a thin boundary between a guardian knight and his heir, and the boundary between Emma and I was thinning out more and more each day.

Emma gasped in my arms, and I wondered if she was having another nightmare about the crash. She whimpered for a few moments and then was silent once again. I brushed a few strands of hair from her face. She had tied her hair up in a loose bun, the way she always did before bed. How could someone so beautiful be in so much pain? I wondered. It didn't seem right; it seemed against nature. But if I knew anything of this world, it was that beauty was pain—most of the time.

Brown hair—silver eyes— no, I stopped myself . I shoved those memories away again.

I regained my focus, and I thought about Emma. I thought about how I hadn’t seen many emotions come from Emma throughout the years. Being a shielded soul, as she was, that was to be expected. Then my mind pondered upon how Lamont and Ara wanted me to really get to know Emma, even to bond with her in the way that no knight had bonded with any heir ever before. So they unshielded her soul to me, from time to time. Usually, as she was normally without a soul’s melody, she went along with the flow of things, which was normal for someone with a shielded soul. But whenever her soul’s melody was partially unguarded, Emma's feelings and emotions became very heightened.

I remembered a particular incident when Emma was twelve:

She and I enjoyed playing in the forest behind Mary's flower shop. I recalled watching as She climbed upon a fallen branch, trying to keep her balance as she walked, and then sped up into a jog, her blond waves flowing in the wind as she ran, and her smile warmed her face like a sunrise.

A sunrise, similar to the one that transformed my world when I had met—

No, stop. Ana is gone. The pain from losing her was even more painful then, while within the aura of that sunrise.

I forced my focus back upon Emma: golden hair, green eyes.

Emma had always looked at me in a unique way. Lamont had unshielded her soul just enough that year so that I could hear her melody, but no other Terran could. Her soul’s melody was getting stronger. Being around Emma always made my soul feel lighter. It made all of the heartache from my past more bearable. When unshielded, her melody would swarm warmly around me, and her thoughts and feelings were as clear as the sky was blue on that cloudless afternoon so long ago.

She liked me. On that day, I heard her melody sing it. It was the first time she had thought of it—the first time I had ever heard her melody ponder and reflect upon me in that way.

I spoke back to her with my melody, but I knew she would not understand. She had not been trained, and without training, it was difficult to understand another's feelings, to reach into their soul, even when their melody was blasting very loud.

"Ry, are you coming?" she asked me, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah, I’m just enjoying the warm weather. I think summer is coming."

"I hate summer; it’s too hot," she groaned as she bent down and picked up a wildflower. I watched as she brought the bloom to her nose.

"It’s beautiful today, though," I answered.

She smiled and motioned for me to take her hand. I did, gladly, and like always, her warmth covered me. She smiled again, and her melody wondered what it would be like to kiss me.

I almost dropped her hand, but I didn’t—I knew I couldn't do anything that would cause her to think that I knew what she was feeling. If I kissed her, I knew Lamont would not have minded, because he trusted me above anyone else. But the real worry of mine was: could I do it?

"Hey, I’m nervous for next year, Ry. You’ll be in high school."

"You can't ever get rid of me, Em." I squeezed her hand.

"Ry, you’re my best friend. I was wondering if maybe—" She paused as if she wasn't sure she wanted to say anything after all.

I didn't want to hear her soul’s melody before her words came out.

"You can ask me anything, Emma." I smiled at her, holding her attention.

"Kiss me," she whispered, and I opened my eyes wide as I watched her blush.

"Kiss you?" I asked.

"Yes, I’m afraid if you don't kiss me now, I'll never get the chance, you know?" She smiled, and I could tell that she was trying to act like it wasn't a huge deal to her.

"Never get the chance to kiss me? Or someone else?" I asked, rubbing my thumb up and down her knuckles.

"I want you to be my first kiss, Ry. You've always been there for me, and our friendship is so strong that a little kiss couldn't mess it up."

"I see you've thought a lot about this."

"I have, and if you don’t like me that way, it's fine. I still want my first kiss with you."

"So let me get this straight. You just want to use my lips? Like a test? Like practice ?"

"Oh, um, I mean—" She turned away from me.

"I'll do it," I blurted. I had heard her soul, and she was worried that I was mad at her for the suggestion. She liked me more than a friend, and she wanted to see what kisses were all about.

"You will?" she asked, her green eyes sparkling.

"Yes, what are best friends for?" I shrugged, acting like it wasn't as big of a deal as it actually was. Inside, my heart was attacking me with joy.

"Okay, then." She cleared her throat and leaned in.

I moved away and smiled. "Not right this instant, Emma." I touched her cheek, and she looked embarrassed. "But soon." In reality, I wanted to kiss her senseless right then. I thought about how kissing her would seal my old life up and create a new one. I was sure if we kissed, my broken heart would finally mend. I said, “not yet,” because we were far too young, and we had plenty of time. Also, when she asked me, my heart began to beat too wildly within my chest as I found myself imagining kissing my lost Ana.

I wasn’t ready.

The memory faded as I pulled a weeping Emma even closer into my arms. Seeing that side of her was still new for me. I had never experienced her sorrowful cries before. That experience was not something I enjoyed; seeing Emma in pain was horrible.

Mary and I tried to shield her melody as best we could, but it was obvious that we could only prevent other melodies from sensing her from great distances. It wasn't easy to shield her from everyone she came into contact with, but we tried. I had to focus on shielding Emma more completely, and to figure out how to keep her safe. In that moment, her melody was contained, but how long would that last? Only a parent could completely suppress a melody. I was not her parent, not in the slightest. Usually, her melody was so loud and strong; additionally, at that moment, she was also in torment. It ached everywhere inside of me. Her melody could have crumbled me to dust if she had wished for it. As she felt such pure pain and torment, I felt it, too. Her pain, after all, might as well have been my doing.