Blooms of Darkness (The Broken Prophecy #1)

Prologue

22 YEARS AGO

B lood spatter marred the walls of a quaint cottage in the dead of night.

The Fates demanded blood be spilled for a sacrifice yet to be discovered.

Agonizing screams of grief echoed off the stone walls and lingered, even after the vision faded.

This vision, this vivid nightmare, promised to haunt Vivienne for the rest of her long Fae life.

She witnessed many dark occurrences, both in the past, and in futures still yet to come to this broken land.

As a Royal Seer it was expected.

Tonight, however, the vision shattered through her sleep and drew her from her bed, urging her outside of the palace walls. She grabbed her trusted mare from the stalls and raced toward the small village of Valeford, only a few hours away.

Lightning crashed across the sky with a fury Vivienne hadn’t witnessed in nearly a century. Something fated was turning, shifting. She prayed nature’s turmoil meant fate was falling into place and not falling out of alignment. Nature’s erratic response made it difficult to discern whether it supported Fate’s calling.

Thunder boomed seconds later, followed by another flash of lightning above, and her black spotted horse kicked onto its hind legs.

“Easy, girl,” Vivienne murmured. “Easy.”

Time wasn't on her side. If the wind and storm's ferociousness indicated nature's feelings, she had to get to the cottage now. Any further delay could mean not arriving at all.

Her horse raced with speed and grace, toward the quiet town the king’s sister had fled to only half a year ago to protect the babe.

The baby Vivienne had immediately sensed held no magic.

Regardless of her lack of magic, she was royalty. Something about tonight mattered to the Fates enough to jolt Vivienne from her sleep. The atrocity occurring around this baby riled nature.

Blood. Vivienne’s premonition, red with fury and blood, provided no clear picture of whose lifeblood spilled in the night. She prayed it wasn’t Illiana’s. Not the babe’s.

The small cottage finally appeared as Vivienne crested the hill to Valeford. Fae, filled with unnatural darkness, lurked at every corner. Each flash of lightning brightened their faces and illuminated their erratic movements. It appeared as if they were high on some sort of magic, an unnatural magic.

Lightning struck again and she heard screaming. The closer she drew to the cottage, the louder the screams sounded, breaking through the crash of thunder.

No, Vivienne thought.

She jumped off the horse, straight into a puddle beside a small garden. A coppery-scented wave struck her.

Blood. Lots of it.

She barreled through the door and found Elisabeth rocking the babe in her arms. The horrific sight of blood spatter along the walls led into the next room and drew Vivienne away from the crying healer and baby.

There on the floor lay the king’s sister and her husband, butchered. Vivienne’s hand flew to her mouth, but she steeled her heart, willing her body to remain in control so she wouldn’t heave the contents from her stomach.

They must flee this place.

And fast.

Despite the move from the palace, the safest place for the future heir required returning straightaway.

“Elisabeth,” Vivienne said, kneeling in front of the castle healer. Elisabeth was strong. She would help get them all home safely. Vivienne only needed to get through to her.

“Elisabeth, can you hear me?”

Shaking, Elisabeth still rocked baby Illiana in her arms as she slowly met Vivienne’s gaze and nodded.

“We must go. Right now. We have to get the babe to the king,” Vivienne said. “Elisabeth, they could return.”

Her words seemed to snap the healer from her shock, and she rose from the ground with Vivienne’s hand to guide her.

“Can you ride with the babe?” Vivienne asked.

Elisabeth nodded once more. “I’ll protect her with my life.” A faint glow surrounded the baby and burned slightly brighter at the healer’s words. Although she spoke in a mere whisper, the determination in Elisabeth’s eyes gave Vivienne no concern as they fled from the cottage.

Vivienne rushed to the small stable at the back of the home, as quickly as her feet would take her, praying to find an additional horse. Noticing one had remained, she cried in relief, sending a prayer of thanks up to the Fates for the gift. By the time she rounded the cottage, Elisabeth and the baby sat perched upon the mare, ready and waiting.

A shriek sounded from behind them.

From the rear of the barn, one of the Fae from earlier came into view.

“Here!” he shouted, pulling his fingers to his mouth, whistling shrilly.

“We don’t stop,” Vivienne commanded, clicking her tongue at her horse.

Into the night they fled for the safety of the palace walls. The safety only the king could provide. The safety of never having to relive a night of blood and terror again.

They rode hard, Vivienne glancing behind them as Fae ran and followed on horseback.

“Faster, my friend,” she shouted.

They pressed on, galloping over hills through the muddy terrain the storm created. Eventually, those following gave way, but it didn’t stop their desperate escape.

When the city walls came into view, only a few miles from the palace, the storm subsided. Nature, it seemed, had been soothed. Vivienne now knew for certain nature’s vengeful response revealed its anger at the horrors around the babe.

She was important.

The kingdom needed her, even if they didn’t understand exactly what the Fates had in store.

Vivienne helped Elisabeth dismount. “You need rest, my old friend,” she said. “I’ll take her to the king and queen. Rest, and then I’ll bring her back to you.”

Elisabeth hesitated, but eventually conceded, handing Vivienne the beautiful baby girl. The glow extinguished as Elisabeth carefully relinquished her to Vivienne.

Vivienne moved quickly from the courtyard toward the king and queen’s chambers.

The babe didn’t shed a tear. No, instead when Vivienne gazed upon her face, she gave her a smile and cooed.

Danger hadn’t dampened this little one’s spirits.

Before Vivienne and the babe reached the doors to the royal chambers, they flew open. The queen let out a cry, and the king, with tears in his eyes, looked at Vivienne. “They’re gone.”

It wasn’t a question. Vivienne pulled the blanket from the baby girl’s face and handed her to the king.

As soon as Illiana rested solely in the king’s arms, Vivienne tensed. The flow of ancient magic crawled through her veins, taking over her body.

When she spoke, an eerie white clouded her vision as a prophecy came into existence.

Void of magic, a heroine born,

Destiny calls, though faint and torn.

Many will come from across the land,

Yet only the strongest will win her hand.

With lover’s touch, she shall ignite,

Without it, perish from the kingdom's blight.