CHAPTER 47
“Those who try to kill a huntress, shall be cursed for life. Those who kill a Deskyiara, will be cursed for life. Those who try to kill a Deskyiara huntress, better run and hide.” - Book of Azure
CHANTS OF DEATH ECHO AROUND. The sounds of their roars go from louder to silent every few seconds. Their voices fade to silence, flickering like my slow heart rate going stronger to soft. They almost killed me. I have never felt so weak. My jaw clenches as the ringing sounds scream inside my head.
I can feel my skin baking from the scorching sun above. My cheek rests against what I believe are tiny pebbles.
The taste of hot, gritty sand glides along my tongue as I spit.
“Kill the dragons! Kill the dragons!” I can hear their shouts.
Where the hell am I?
My eyes groggily open and shut, darkness flickering to light as I try to open them for good. But the sun burns them, making it impossible to fully adjust to my surroundings.
I try to roll over, but my cheek slams back into the roasting sand.
My fingers stretch wide, brushing against the grittiness of the ground that I see through my lashes.
But with any small movement, a sharp radiating pain shoots down my spine and I wince, loudly.
My dry lips part, and I suck in a deep, trembling breath.
With all the strength I have, my elbows and knees dig into the sharp rocks, and I taste something metallic. My trembling fingers pull up to rub against my bottom lip, fresh blood smearing along my fingertips.
What did they do to me?
I’m going to kill them.
I try to rise, but my body is too weak. My chest slams into the ground, almost completely taking the air from my lungs.
My hand wraps around my stomach, groaning in agony.
The people cheer at my fall, making my teeth grind together with pure fury.
I’m going to burn them all.
I suck in a deep breath followed by a cough, allowing my body to rest before I try again. But my body stays frozen, unable to lift my weight.
My body is so weak, drained, all I can do is lay in the sun-baked sand. Through my blurred vision, I catch a figure in the distance. I flutter my eyes and that’s when I see him, Koen, laying on the ground, unconscious.
His curls are resting across his face with dried blood and dirt attached to his strands.
No. No. No.
My arm stretches wide, fingers digging into the sand as I pull my body across the ground. I let out a raging scream, feeling the pain shoot down my spine once again. But I force through the agony, I must make it to him.
“Koen!” I mutter out, breathing deeply. “Koen!”
But there is no answer.
I cry out once more, trying to wield the dragons out of my stones, but the stones are dull. Lifeless. No color radiates through them.
Why can’t I wield them?
My fingers flicker, and I watch them shake in the air as I try to wield my fire, but nothing comes.
I slam my fist into the sand, kicking it up into the air as I let out a gut-wrenching cry. My neck flushes with heat, up to my cheeks as my pulse pounds in my head.
“What did you do!” My throat dries as I scream out to the void.
The walls of the arena come into focus, then those in the stands whip their flags in celebration.
My chin rises, allowing my eyes to trace up the mountain to where the Royals sit to find Skie gowned in a raven dress with flames wrapping around her shoulders, elegantly rising from the Queen’s throne.
We are in the damn pit.
She walks to the ledge, allowing her hands to calm the crowd into silence. But when I notice Queen Antivianna’s crown, with the stones of the Realms, something inside me rumbles with fear. Uncertainty. Where is the Queen?
“We honor my mother’s death by allowing the two who killed her to fight to their deaths. One may live, one must die.”
My trembling hand digs into the sand, pushing myself to my knees before I let out a violent shout. “Skie, what are you talking about!”
Her finger shakes fiercely as she points towards me. “You two took Queen Antivianna from us! My mother! Now you two must fight to the death!”
“We did no such thing!”
“Lykia is our witness!” She turns towards her, and Lykia rises, her silver dress reflecting with the sun. A sinister smirk forms along her lips. “She saw Koen and Serene murder the Queen!”
The crowd gasps as some weep in mourning.
My head shakes as I stare at the blood that drops from my mouth to the sand and mutter under my breath, “how is this happening?”
As I glance towards the onyx bridge, noticing not only the two dragons chained up, but the chosen standing in front of them in a line. All of them are here. But even Zake, Ivker, Octavian, and Klayra.
Their hands are wrapped in a tight rope, and they’re on their knees before the dragons.
My chest heaves, eyebrows narrowing in. “Why are they here!”
“You know why, you foolish woman!” She slams her hands into the railings. “You all were going to leave the Realm of Eekatia! My own brother, how could you convince him to betray the throne!”
Theon’s eyes roll, glancing towards Kaine. Most of the chosen are bruised still with fresh wounds from the fight against the darklings. Dryden’s head hands low, his leg puddling blood around him. They need healing.
“You are going to let the chosen die! Some of them need to heal!” My eyes burn as I stare towards the highest peak of the mountain where Skie stands. The sun is setting perfectly behind her.
My eyes flicker between the chosen and the Royals above, catching sight of Florian standing in the distance. Just to think I was here to save him, yet all he does is watch our downfall. How dare he.
“You are going to stand there and let this happen!” The veins in my neck bulge as I scream towards him. “How dare you! You know we didn’t do this!”
Florian’s eyes shut, staring down the mountainside to avoid my raging gaze.
“You are being a coward!” My throat rips out a breaking cry.
Skie slams her hands into the railings. “You don’t speak to him! You speak to me!”
My eyes lock with hers and I spit on the ground, whipping the blood with the back of my hand. “Screw you.”
“If you two do not fight…” Skie grins, “the dragons will scorch the chosen to their death!”
I hear her wicked laugh echoing in with the cheers of the people.
“Like mother, like daughter.” My eyes roll as I whisper under my breath. “Theon is the only sane one.”
In the distance, Koen is rising to his feet, stumbling weakly against the boulder next to him. Blood smears along the rock as he slips, but regains his balance. I rise within seconds, tripping in the sand, but running straight towards him.
The heat of the breeze whips at my face, mixed in with a smell of burnt flesh that stings my eyes. His hand rests against the rock, catching his breath as his curls fall in front of his face.
Tears stream down my cheeks as I sob, fighting the pain to fall on my knees due to the torturing pain of what feels like daggers jabbing into my spine repeatedly.
But that pain is nothing compared to the pain I feel in my heart. I can’t live without him.
I won’t live without him.
“Koen!” I cry out, and he finally looks my way.
He pushes off of the boulder, tripping in the sand, but rushes straight towards me.
The distance between us is finally closing in as his arms wrap around me once more. Tightly. Desperately.
My fingers curl into his hair, and I weep into his shoulders as his hands rub against my hair. He inhales deeply, savoring my scent as my arms tighten around him. I nestle my nose into his neck, savoring the scent and warmth of the man I love.
Before one of us dies.
But the truth is, I am dead without him.
“It’s okay,” he whispers, hands gliding down my hair. “I am right here.”
“We… we must…” I stutter, choking on the words that need to escape my lips. But all I can do is sob.
He kisses my forehead. “I know,” he breathes out against my head. “I heard what she said.”
“We shouldn’t have returned.” I pull away and through blurred eyes filled with tears, I stare up at him. “We didn’t kill her.” A tear slides down my cheek.
His thumb catches it, whipping it gently away. “Lykia is wanting her revenge.”
“Who would kill her to set us up like this?” My hand trembles, resting over my lips as I try to control my breathing. “I can’t use my powers. The dragons aren’t hearing me. I cannot wield my fire. Something is wrong.”
His thick brows pull inward, gripping my arms tightly before he scans my body with his emerald eyes and gently turns me.
“Damn it.” His head falls down, and his back rises with a deep inhale. “Let me show you.”
He shifts me, and I can feel his finger grazing my spine before turning me once more.
His fingertips are filled with a black liquid mixed with a crimson-red hue. “It looks as if they took the lava from the Darklands and created something to weaken you.”
My eyes stare at his hands, watching the liquid drip from his hand. “How would you know this?”
His lips tug together. “Because the Darklands, my mother, was trying to create something similar.” He clears his throat, taking his other hand and rolling it into a fist. “Using dark magic with the darkness that pulses through the lava to create a weapon against the Deskyiaras.”
Tears pour out from my eyes as I take my trembling hands to wipe them away.
“Why would they want to destroy my bloodline?”
He breathes out. “For the Deskyiara power. Your bloodline has always been the strongest connection to the Gods.” His eyes soften. “I wonder if the Royals found a way to absorb your gifts, to take them from you. I know they were working on this long before the last Deskyiara King and Queen died.”
“Enough talking!” Skie frantically belts from her chest. “Take the daggers from your sheaths, and attack!”
Our eyes meet before glancing down towards the silver daggers against our chest.
“I can’t. I won’t,” I stutter.
I back away from him, hands stretched outward before raising my chin towards the Queen.
“You've got it all wrong!” I bellow fiercely from the depths of my stomach. “We didn't do this!”
“Very well.” Skie snaps her wrist with a harsh flick, signaling the guards in the arena below. “My mother always knew that mouth of yours would cause trouble.”
My gaze locks in on the five guards, their spears menacingly aimed at the chosen, and I explode with rage.
“Get away from them!” I shriek, my voice ripping through the air as I sprint across the gritty sand to reach them.
But as I charge forward, a sudden, searing pain slashes through my leg.
A familiar pain, reminding me of the sharp jabbing in my spine with each movement I take.
I crash to the ground instantly, squirming.
I cry out in agony, clutching at my leg where an arrow is penetrated through my thigh.
Its tip glistens with the same toxic liquid Koen showed me.
Koen must be right. They are using this to weaken me.
And it’s working.
“I have more archers ready to release!” Skie grips the railing, leaning over wickedly as she beams a smirk. “You are not in control! I am!”
My fingers dig against my leg, pressing against the rage and pain that is shooting through me. I try to rise, pausing as I catch the sudden movement of the archers pulling back on their strings.
“No!” Theon shouts, shaking his head. “You can’t fight against this Ren!”
My hands beat against the sand, screaming at those who cheer for our deaths.
The guards make their way to Pyreon at the end of the line, gripping his arms as his body yanks against their firm grip.
The guards carelessly drag his body towards the golden dragon, the chains tightly wrapping around its enormous legs.
Its mouth is slightly clamped together by more chains, but wide enough to breathe fire through it.
“Please don’t!” Tears blur my eyes as I beg to Skie.
“You did this. You killed him!” Skie snaps her finger.
The guards jab their spears against the dragon, and I watch bright, cherry-red fire begin to flame inside its wide mouth.
I crawl, pulling my body as blood smears across the sand.
Pyreon nods towards me. A soft smile forms along his lips. “It’s okay,” he mouths out.
“Please stop!” Tears stream down my cheeks, smearing in with the dried blood from my split lip. “Please! I beg you!”
But as I do everything in my power to crawl my way to him, the dragon breathes fire and scorches him right in front of us.
I sob, clenching my chest as I watch a man who did not deserve this death, slowly become nothing more but ash and bones in the sand.
My lips part, feeling the rage burning against my throat as I scream. The veins against my temples and neck pulse rapidly as I realize, either Koen or I die. Or the chosen will be scorched to their deaths, one by one.
The guards move behind the rest of the chosen, pointing their spears directly towards the back. I heave, the sand curling between my fingers as I force myself to rise.
Despite the pain. Despite the fear.
I will die, strong. I will die, showing them all they won’t weaken me.
They will never be able to.
My death shall be from the hands of the man I love.
And we shall meet again, in the sky above.
And I shall rain fire on them all for what they have done.
War is coming. And these foolish people brought it upon themselves.