3. Chapter 3
‘ N o, please, Dark Mother, not again,’ I sobbed, thrashing in my bed and clawing at my chest, knowing it was all for nothing. The dream, the one that had tormented me for the past five hundred years, pulled me under.
My mother’s curse was merciless. It didn’t matter how hard I fought; it always ended the same.
I lost.
My mind drifted back to the worst moments of my life … and there I was, cowering on the floor as my father stood over me, whip in hand.
‘You useless, weak child. I wish I’d left you for the wolves when you were born. Why do you continue acting so human when my blood runs in your veins? You are a disgrace to the Shen’ra name,’ my father spat, raising the whip.
‘What do you expect? You’re the one who took a human as a mate,’ I hissed through clenched teeth just before the lash bit into the skin of my back, but I had to endure. Otherwise, the terrified servant behind me would bear the brunt of my father’s fury.
‘If you didn’t look so much like me, I would think your mother had spread her legs for the swine in the forest.’ The whip cracked again.
Agony tore through me, but my eyes searched for the child hiding beneath the chair, and I smiled reassuringly as our eyes met. I would protect him from this injustice. All the child had wanted was to learn, and I was the fool who had agreed to teach him.
Again the lash fell, and again I refused to scream. My father would not break his son so easily, and I relished every moment I frustrated his desires.
‘You think you can hold on? Fine. You wanted to teach the human, then teach him,’ he snarled. A magical net squeezed my throat so tight that my vision began to waver.
Hrae! What irked him this time?
He’d been at court earlier to see the empress, and I knew he hated it. Each time he returned, he took his anger out on us, but it had never been this bad before. At least this time, my mother and sister were safe from his wrath.
‘Lost for words, boy? Go ahead—teach him about Ozar. Tell him what happens to those who trust humans.’ My father sneered, and I felt the silver strands of his magic tightening on my throat.
Will he end up killing me this time? I wondered.
‘Cahyon Abrasan is one of the most brilliant mages on the continent.’ I rasped. ‘He is skilled in …’ I dragged in another breath before continuing, my father smirking as my pause caused the net to squeeze tighter, my little student crying too hard to listen to the mockery of a lesson.
‘He is skilled in transmutation and soul binding, making his golems incredibly powerful constructs as well as a source of free labour. This also made them unstoppable, which no one realised at the time. The gentle night-dwelling Moroi were so impressed that they invited him, a human mage, to the Kingdom of Ozar so that he could create servants to care for their needs during the daytime.’
‘Please, stop, Father. You’re killing him, please.’ I heard my sister call out over the wailing of the child servant and silently cursed. Why did my Ro, my little sunshine, have to turn up now? I had drawn away our father’s anger. She just needed to stay silent while I endured.
Outside of the horror I was trapped in, my struggling body wept, remembering the hatred I had felt at that moment—not for my abusive father, but for Ro, as she wrecked my efforts with her begging. My guilt from that emotion haunted me, and I wished I had fought back and saved her—saved us all—from my monstrous parent.
‘Stop?’ he laughed. ‘Why would I stop when this is the perfect teaching opportunity?’ my father replied. ‘Continue, Alaric.’ I followed his order, hoping to focus his ire on me alone, caring as little for my life as my father seemed to.
‘Through subterfuge and the use of twisted magic, Cahyon gained the support of the day-dwelling races, and when his golems turned on their helpless masters, no one opposed it. Those here in the Care’etavos Empire were shocked when dishevelled refugees appeared at our borders, nauseated by their accounts of horrifying barbarism. Of how the king and his court, helpless under the blinding sun, were dragged out at midday and slaughtered. That day, Cahyon stepped from the shadows and took control of the country, beginning his reign of blood and terror.’
My final words were little more than a wheeze as I fought for breath, but I fell into silence, knowing that if I begged now, it would only make things worse.
‘Don’t stop now, half-breed. You were doing so well,’ he jeered, enjoying my struggle.
‘The Moroi could only submit or die. They were a gentle fae race, and that merciless human now known as the Lich King took them and corrupted their life-affirming blood rituals so that they felt only an unquenchable thirst, turning the kind people into monsters.’ I took a breath.
‘Within a few short years, the glowing cities of Ozar were cesspits of death and debauchery. The surrounding nations were horrified at such carnage, but they also knew to fear and refused to commit to a war they might lose. So they sent emissaries to negotiate with the new king and established secret negotiations with their neighbouring countries.’
My face was on the ground and my vision was failing, but I had finished, and no one else was hurt. I felt my sister’s arms wrap around me, her voice cracking as she pleaded with our father, trying to use her own power to keep me conscious without realising she was prolonging my agony.
‘There we are. Now, let me continue your lesson, boy. Our wretched frightened empress has decided to send me as one of those emissaries—I, Roan’va Shen’ra, will be a servant to that human’s court,’ he spit out. ‘That’s what you get when you let females rule. Truly disgraceful.’
The illusion darkened as my past self blacked out when my father’s rage manifested in his magic, and for a brief moment, I felt a profound relief, even knowing it would soon start again.
Light flickered, my nightmare dragging me back into the memory. I fought its pull, sobbing in my frustration, knowing what was coming and cursing my weakness.
My father, in his infinite wisdom—or perhaps cruelty—took my mother and sister with him. Supposedly as a gesture of faith, to demonstrate our nation’s commitment to peace and cooperation.
I opposed the idea, intending to speak to the empress herself about it, but Rowena asked me not to intervene. And after reading the letters she sent to me during their journey, I began thinking that it was fine that I hadn’t, that my suspicions were unfounded. Ro’s stories were filled with excitement and wonder, the lengthening intervals between letters not so concerning in light of that happiness.
Our father was welcomed with open arms and seemed to hold an honoured position at the new king’s court. So I relaxed, believing that all was well. However, the tone of Rowena’s writing soon changed, fear and anxiety replacing the bubbly mood of her words. She was increasingly afraid of Cahyon, and when she learned of his deal with our father to make her his queen, Rowena begged for my help.
Just as I was leaving for the empress’ court to ask for permission to go to Ozar, I received a letter from our mother. Instructing me to sell her valuables and whatever else I could to finance an escape—not just from Ozar but from our own dark fae empire as well.
The empress ignored my pleading, pleased with my father’s plan for a political marriage. But, consequences be damned, instead of following my mother’s instructions, I wrote to my father. In the letter, I demanded that he abandon this insanity and send his wife and child home immediately.
Then, one day, word came of a new power in Ozar. Indeed, Cahyon Abrasan no longer reigned. Now, the kingdom was ruled by the Lich King, an undead monster who was even more power-hungry than his predecessor.
The memory blurred, and I felt my chest burning as my curse marked the next part of my torment. The scene sharpened, and I found myself in front of a sallow-faced messenger.
‘Master Alaric, you are summoned to the palace,’ the young man wheezed as I sat at my father’s desk, writing—begging—my friends for help to rescue my mother and sister.
It didn’t take long to get ready, and half an hour later, I was at court. To my surprise, I wasn’t brought inside. Instead, the emperor consort—a mage and my mentor—intercepted me, gesturing for me to follow.
We walked through several dark corridors, the walls dripping with moisture and the air stale with the smell of mould. A sense of foreboding settled over me and I trembled with apprehension, my heart pounding in my chest. What was going on? Had I done something wrong? … No, if that was the case, I’d be in irons and stripped of my magic.
I couldn’t think of a reason for this strange excursion and worried that someone had discovered my abilities despite the lengths I’d gone to to hide my strong necromancy in order to avoid my father’s wrath.
‘I’m so sorry, Alaric,’ the mage said when we entered one of the summoning chambers, its wards strong enough to contain a powerful demon. Then I saw it. A casket. With a woman inside.
My mother looked so peaceful, as if in the midst of a gentle dream, but the signs of corruption were clearly visible, even if I hadn’t been a necromancer and knew what to look for.
‘Who … who did this? Where is my sister?’ I cried out through gritted teeth, fighting the tears streaming down my face.
‘Your father. Your sister … is still in Ozar, but I have to tell you—foul magic was used on your mother. Roan … Your father sacrificed your mother for something wholly appalling and used her life force to transform Abrasan into the Lich King. The empress is furious and has stripped your family’s titles and lands.’
The mage’s words failed to penetrate the numbness that overwhelmed me. All I could do was stare at my mother, the tears still falling from my eyes.
‘Your mother’s body arrived with a letter to you and a declaration of war. I hid the letter from the empress, but… the Lich King is marching south as we speak, and you … there are orders to lock you up. I will give you a moment to say goodbye; then you must run.’
‘You’d go against the empress?’
‘She is hurt by your father’s betrayal and frightened by the threat of Abrasan. I refuse to incarcerate you for the sins of your father, especially since—unlike him—you honour our traditions and care for those weaker than you,’ he said, patting my shoulder. ‘I’ll leave you with her. You have an hour before I return with the guards, and I hope I won’t find you here.’
‘No, he can’t be that evil. No one could …’ I trailed off, remembering the abuse, and fell to my knees.
The next thing I knew, I was standing over my mother, purple aether flowing through me as I revived her, begging for the truth. I watched as my magic breathed life into the body, its spirit settling within the corrupt vessel.
It was then I noticed the tendrils of the blackest aether flowing over my wrists and sinking beneath my skin. ‘Hrae!’ I shouted. I’d forgotten to shield, had revived her without a single protection in place, but most importantly, I’d forgotten what my mother was.
She was a dreamwalker, a strong psionic mage able to influence other people, and in my semi-delirious state, I had no way to stop her. I watched in disbelief as I cut runes into my chest, weaving the silver adorning the corpse into my bleeding flesh. Then, I uttered the words of an unbreakable vow—a hideous blood oath, cursing myself to a life of misery until I rescued my sister or avenged her death.
With a blinding flash of silver light, reality came crashing back, and I screamed once again, feeling the pain of burning metal sinking into my skin. I was covered in sweat, and smoke drifted from my top as my marks seared both my skin and clothing, so I ripped the fabric away, tossing it into the fireplace.
With an unsteady hand, I grabbed a pitcher and tossed its contents over my chest, cursing. This night’s dream had been the worst I’d ever had. I squeezed my eyes closed, hating the person I’d become.
The man who’d once braved a lashing to protect an innocent child was now someone who planned to Anchor an unsuspecting conduit mage and use her to kill the bastard who sired him, and—if the Dark Mother allowed—the one who stole his mother’s life.
I couldn’t tell Orm. He wouldn’t understand, and he certainly wouldn’t accept using the woman like that. He needed an excuse, something more worthy of such a sacrifice. I’d already told him I wanted to replace the damaged keystone, knowing it wasn’t possible. Now, I had just added another lie, making him believe I could do it if I was bonded to a conduit mage.
I was a selfish, overtired fool bent on revenge, but what choice did I have?
Both my father’s transgressions and my own mistakes condemned me. Even worse, I hadn’t fled the room after being cursed, and I’d cut down the guards that arrived before finally escaping. I lived as a fugitive in my own country for years; penniless, unable to pursue my quest.
When war broke out, I was forced to fight for my life at every turn. By the time I had gathered the strength to face my torment, the war was over and the Barrier was in place, preventing anyone with foul magic from getting past it.
I spent years looking for a way to break through that impenetrable wall that kept me from finding and avenging my loved ones, then even more years trying to remove the curse I had been compelled to inflict upon myself. Pain, my constant companion, ceased to be a punishment and became almost a need … because I had discovered that only the torment of my flesh could ease the pain that ravaged my soul.
‘I knew I’d find you here.’ Orm’s voice cut through the clear mountain air, and I turned to watch him approach. I smiled at my friend but couldn’t prevent the stab of bitterness from ruining my mood. ‘Am I that predictable?’
‘Since you came here nine years ago, I’d always find you here when you needed to think,’ he said. ‘The servants saw you sneaking out of your room before dawn, so I thought it likely you’d be here.’
Even if my reason for living here was a lie, the fortress had become my home. I had no place in my own court. As for the human kingdoms, I was a dark fae, a necromancer with foul, tainted magic. Not here, though. Here, I was who I wanted to be—a scholar and healer who held the esteemed position of fortress mage despite the human prejudice against my race.
‘My workshop’s been somewhat stifling lately,’ I replied, shrugging to disguise my feelings. ‘How was your correspondence with the chancellor?’
‘Same old bollocks, of course. He says the king’s too ill to make decisions. I feel we’d have more success writing to your empress,’ Orm responded, joining me and dropping onto the weatherworn rock of the fortress wall to dangle his feet carelessly over the long drop.
I turned back to the panorama before me. The mountains created a ridge—a natural grey barrier that divided the Northern Lands from the Lowland Kingdoms. I could still remember the fortress as a trading post, built by the dwarves to protect travelling merchants and shelter their caravans from the unpredictable mountain weather. Those times were long gone, and what had once been a smallholding had become a military outpost and then a thriving town.
‘He wouldn’t be the first who enjoyed the position a little too much, forgetting that he was chosen to serve,’ I said, and Orm nodded.
‘What’s bothering you? Are you thinking about the mage again?’ my friend asked, moving closer. I felt his hand rest on my shoulder. Others rarely touched me. Most humans treated my kind like we carried the plague, but not Orm … and I appreciated that. He’d probably never know how much.
‘No, I was thinking about my sister, my old life,’ I answered truthfully, and his eyes narrowed. ‘She always looked so human, even though she is stronger in the dark arts than most of our kind. The Shen’ra line has always been deceptive.’
I rarely spoke about my family, but after last night’s nightmare, I was struggling to picture my sister’s face, to not forget her. All I could remember was our mother’s golden hair surrounding Rowena’s pale complexion. Then there was her magic, a combination of dreamwalking and necromancy that alarmed even me.
‘Don’t ask me to try that stunt again,’ Orm cut into my thoughts. ‘You almost died the last time I crossed the Barrier with you. The Rift might be growing, but the magic is still too strong for someone with as much power as you to cross.’
‘No, I don’t want to try again. Not on a dragon, at least,’ I laughed bitterly, remembering the agonising pain of my attempt to cross on Vahin. The Barrier’s magic had rebuffed me, ripping me from Vahin’s back. Only the dragon’s agility had allowed for my mostly safe retrieval before I became an ugly smear on the ground below, but the grip of his claws had left me bedridden for a month.
The Barrier knew the truth. My soul was filled with the foul magic and power of a necromancer, and that construct of humans considered me to be the same as their—as my — enemy. And there was nothing I could do about it.
‘You still miss her?’ Orm asked, frowning when he saw me rub my chest. He knew some of the truth. A sad family story about a dead mother, a lost sister, and the traitor who had triggered the rise of the Lich King.
The story was too well-known throughout the kingdom to hide it. That was all I’d told him when I had secured his help in my failed attempt to cross the Barrier. The rest I couldn’t share, even with my chosen brother.
‘Yes, in a way. I’ve been restless since meeting the conduit. Have you made any progress in finding her? Is there any news from the capital?’
‘Progress?’ he smirked. ‘I not only found out her name and that she was the mage that defeated that wlok and caused the damage to the keystone ten years ago, but was handed the key to her geas directly by the royal mage,’ Orm said in such a matter-of-fact manner, though his hunched shoulders and lack of emotion told a different story.
The geas was a magical shackle that forced the loyalty of the most powerful mages, involuntarily making them loyal servants to the kingdom and compelling them to execute the orders of whoever held the key. I knew that Orm, with his code of honour, wouldn’t have taken it if the stakes weren’t so high.
At least he had control of the one thing our little mage could never argue against. I hoped he didn’t have to use it, but I needed her here. I needed her power.
‘I’ll have to bond with her to be able to use her magic,’ I said, and he frowned, looking at me sharply. After a pause he ventured, ‘If that’s what’s needed, then that’s what we’ll do. Just … let’s wait until we have a viable crystal before using the geas. She may even choose to bond willingly.’ He squinted out at the mountains. ‘I won’t force her for anything less than restoring the Barrier.’
‘What if I could offer another, more permanent solution? Replacing the keystone should temporarily leave an opening … I could cross it, Orm. Depending on the synergy between the conduit and me, I would not only have the chance to kill my father and avenge my sister, but end the Lich King as well.’
‘What makes you think you’ll succeed where every other has failed?’
‘They didn’t have a conduit mage bonded to them. You saw what she did to the mountain when the wlok attacked,’ I said, and he sighed.
‘I know she’s powerful, and maybe you and she could put an end to the monster, but there’s an army between that bastard and anyone that wants to harm him. I don’t want to lose a friend on the slimmest of chances,’ he whispered. His voice sounded raw, and his hand on my shoulder tightened in a rare display of emotion.
‘You knew my stay here was always going to be temporary. Orm … I need to find out whether my sister is still alive. If she is, the only way to rescue her would be to destroy the Lich King.’
‘I can come with you, help you, if you let me. If Rowena is alive, you will need speed to escape, and nothing is faster than Vahin.’
‘Dark Mother, I almost wish she was dead. If she’s been alive this whole time, while she’s been held captive by those monsters … Orm, the only way to rescue her would be to sneak in, and as a necromancer in the land of the undead, I would be perfectly safe. You and Vahin would only be a burden.’
I knew how cruel it sounded, but I was trying to protect the man who was like a brother to me. He mumbled something I couldn’t hear and pulled away. From his tight lips, I knew I had hurt his feelings, but it seemed he’d accepted my explanation.
Orm was a strategist, taught to examine a problem from many angles and weigh each decision with logical precision. As a dragon rider, he was trained to keep his emotions on a tight leash. The wild magic that ran through riders’ blood would turn them into berserkers without that training, so I used his iron control and analytic thinking against him.
‘The life of one woman for the life of many, that’s the dark price that needs to be paid. Give me the mage, and I’ll do my best to fix the Barrier—but if you help me Anchor her, perhaps there’ll be no need for the Barrier at all.’
‘I see two problems with your plan. First, what if she doesn’t follow you? Second, you’re planning on taking the ultimate weapon right to the Lich King’s doorstep and hoping she survives. It is not about the price, Alaric. It is about the likelihood of winning, so unless the odds change, I can’t risk her in the Barren Lands.’
‘She will follow me because conduit mages are loyal to their Anchors. I promise I’ll try not to use her geas. I don’t like it any more than you do. I’m planning to become her friend or seduce her if all else fails,’ I said, matching his tone. ‘As for the rest, I will ask again once she settles here. Even if I abandon my quest, I may yet need to Anchor her to restore the keystone.’
Orm’s eyes narrowed, and his fist tightened until his knuckles went white. I knew why. Protecting women was beaten into a dragon rider’s psyche at a young age, and I’d just revealed I would stop at nothing to gain access to her power.
After a moment, he spoke in his usual stoic manner. ‘If that’s what it takes to protect the kingdom, then I will bring you my own pillows to make up your bed in your efforts to seduce her —but only to restore the Barrier; with regard to the rest of your plan, my answer is no.’
Pretending to agree, I smiled at his jest, though I soon sobered with the realisation of how much he trusted me while I weaved an intricate web of lies and half-truths, telling him exactly, and only, what he needed to hear.
I am my father’s son , I thought with bitterness, my lies tainting the only place I called home. I didn’t want to throw that feeling away, but living with this curse when I could be free …
I truly loathed what I had become; that’s why I was pulling away from Orm. He came to me because he cared , and it killed me to see the trust in his eyes. Feeling his concern hurt more than the blood oath ever did, and I found no pleasure in the pain.
‘Lost in thought again?’ Orm’s slumped shoulders belied the gently teasing tone of his voice, but he shook it off as he stood and looked at me with concern. ‘You don’t have to do it alone, Ari. Take my offer. I can cross the Barrier at any time. Just wait for me, and as soon as the Barrier’s secured, we can fly to Katrass to face the Lich King together. Please, I don’t want to lose my friend, and I feel like you are pulling further away with each passing day,’ he said with sadness, and his words stabbed me in the gut.
Damn the man. Damn the warmth he brought into my life. I didn’t deserve a friend like him, but I had no choice.
Since we’d found the mage, my dreams had become more violent, but worse was the voice … A constant companion, an incessant seduction, it was full of fake promises and platitudes. It haunted my dreams, robbing me of rest, and I didn’t know how long I could handle it.
‘You have your duties here, Lord Commander. The rest … even between friends, some distance is needed,’ I said, and Orm closed his eyes, but not before I saw the raw pain hidden in their depths.
‘If that is what you think is best, I will respect your decision.’
He walked away without another glance, an ache arising—so unbearable it took my breath away—that had nothing to do with the silver scars on my body.