Chapter 11
RYDIAN
“Elynor!”
I attempt to reach her through the Veil again, but she’s not responding. The usual steady connection has gone cold, which can only mean one thing: she’s injured. My heart pounds as I sprint, my magic already too drained to travel in the Veil.
Aurelia was breached unexpectedly, catching us off guard, when King Andre told me to run. As his second-in-command, I knew I needed to find them, even though I didn’t want to leave his side.
“Find Elynor and Isa!” King Andre had shouted at me as he withdrew his sword, holding the front line with his men. We were ambushed at the border, not too far from the castle, but even as I took off, I was sprinting past our enemy to find Queen Elynor.
The realms were supposed to have peace—a treaty created by the kings in an agreement, the first time in history where we were granted such a luxury.
Elderheim arrived so quickly that the whole realm was caught off guard.
As I run through the trees near the back of the castle, my eyes land on Elynor in the gardens fighting her way down the stone path with Isa on her hip. Two of her personal guards continue to cut through the chaos, heading toward the castle.
“Elynor!” My feet quicken their pace when I notice the gash on her ribs, deep and dripping down her side.
She’s a force of power—cutting, ducking, and dodging, even when she served as an informant for the king. But now, with a crown that rests on her head, she commands a presence that’s hard to ignore.
She’s fair-skinned with dark emerald eyes and black hair, though a blonde mark rests in the center of her head. Varethin marks are often acquired in your hair—the bond between souls, connecting you to someone in your realm like a mate.
Elynor received hers while on a mission in Elderheim, marrying King Andre. The two have been inseparable since her arrival back five years ago.
With heavy, panting breaths, I finally reach them just as she cuts down the last of the soldiers surrounding her. Isa grips Elynor’s tunic—uncontrollable tears streaming—when she glances at me. She just turned five.
“I… I’m scared, Mommy,” Isa says between sniffles.
“I know, baby,” she mutters, then turns to me, breathless and clutching her ribs. “Rydian, what happened?”
“Are you okay?” I ask, inspecting her as she winces in pain. “Why aren’t you healing?”
“I—I don’t know.”
“There’s been a breach from Elderheim. King Andre’s at the border. We need to get you and Isa below the castle.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I’m not leaving Andre, my mate, to fight alone.”
“Please don’t fight me, Elynor. Queen or not, I’ve been ordered to get you to safety. We need to get you and Isa below the castle. Your safety comes first,” I press.
She pivots, looking to the side with a heavy exhale before finally turning to me with a quick, defeated nod. “Okay.”
“We need to be quick. There are more coming,” I say, commanding orders to her personal guards. “Give me Isa,” I demand, but Elynor shakes her head.
“No, I’ll be fine. Focus on fighting.” She grips Isa tighter, as if afraid to let her go. We race toward the castle, a sword already in her hand as I follow close behind.
My sword is withdrawn, but we’re quickly ambushed by those who have already reached the castle’s back entrance seeing her two guards fighting up ahead. Glancing over my shoulder, I see hundreds of soldiers race toward us, and panic crawls up my chest.
I kick out, catching a soldier in the hip before slashing down, slicing him across his midsection. I continue to fight our way up the stairs and into the castle. We’re almost there—if we can just make it inside, we can get to safety.
My sword slashes down when Elynor’s screams tear through the air, leaving me to discover her bringing her own sword down in a wide arc.
In a race to protect Isa, she’s suddenly ambushed by four soldiers from Elderheim. She’s struggling to keep Isa in her hold when she’s suddenly struck across the back of her head.
They lunge to grab her, one of them grabbing Isa. But Isa’s screaming and kicking to be released, thrashing her wild black hair as she claws at the soldier’s face.
“Rydian!” Her small screams reach me before they’re muffled by a soldier’s hand, her eyes wide with panic.
“No!” I slice and kick the nearest soldier, struggling to fight my way to her when something hard hits my skull.
The sun beats down on my face, the harsh light revealing the destruction of the battle we just faced as my eyes peel open.
A battle we clearly lost.
The burn from the gash on my lip forces me to wince and groan in pain. My hand flies to my ribs, pulling back to eye the blood coating my fingers—a stab wound, my armor stiff with dried blood.
The battle must have just ended, and I recall Elynor and Isa being taken by the soldiers from Elderheim.
Panic races through me as I force myself upright, crying out in pain as I brace myself on my arm, clutching my ribs.
I hope to find Elynor but know deep down that they’re already gone.
My hope is fleeting as I search the castle, calling out as I check the hidden sanctuary below to find it empty.
No one was able to make it inside, and defeat sits on my chest.
In my search for survivors, I find Ivy—a dark-skinned female soldier—also bloody and bruised. She lifts injured soldiers, doctoring their wounds when she turns in my direction.
“Ivy, what’s the update?” I get out with a wince, clutching my ribs.
“Rydian, I’m so sorry,” she chokes out, tears suddenly welling, streaking through the dust on her face. A cold dread settles in my stomach.
“Tell me!” I demand, gripping her face.
The destruction is undeniable. They obliterated everything we had—women and children are scattered amongst the bodies as fires continue to burn the homes of the people who lived in Vyria.
“They took them. They took them back with them, Elynor and Isa. We couldn’t stop it. After they took them, everyone stopped fighting, retreating to where they came, and the king… They sent his second-in-command,” she says quietly.
“What do you mean? Where is Andre?”
“They had the blade.” She shakes her head, grief palpable beneath my fingertips. My hands leave her as I step away.
They found the blade. How did they find it? The Blade of the Veil. One that has been missing for hundreds of years. The only blade capable of killing a king or queen of Aurelia.
“I have a few soldiers down there with him until we can move his body,” she whispers.
My feet pull me into a run, and I ignore the sharp pain in my side—I need to see him. I search for Andre near the large vale where the water meets the shore, coming to an abrupt halt as I spot him lying on his back.
Lifeless.
The air feels heavy, pressing down as I move forward. Ten others kneel near his body with their heads bowed. Soldiers immediately stand as I approach, parting wordlessly as their gazes avoid mine.
I take a step, then another, until my feet refuse to move, my knees weakening. I shake my head with disbelief.
My vision blurs as I stumble forward, landing on my knees just as an angry growl escapes me. I suddenly can’t breathe. My heart slams against my ribs as he slowly comes into focus.
His blonde hair is dark from the thick coat of blood except for the black mate mark at the crown of his head. His face is pale, but his hands lie resting on his chest with his eyes closed, as if the soldiers knew I was coming. They leave us in silence, one by one.
I reach for him and cradle his head in my lap, moving hair away from his face as I hold the one male who was with me for the duration of my life.
Our memories together come flooding back. We didn’t always get along, but he was my king.
The loyalty and the bond we built over the years is something I’ll never forget. I loved him—admired him as if he were a brother. He was the kind of king that encouraged you to be better.
But Elynor made him better somehow. Their bond was something to be sought after, and I yearned for that. I was envious of what they shared, seeing how amazing they were, and with Isa, the girl I saw only moments ago. And it was gone in a matter of minutes.
My only job was to protect them.
And I failed.
My eyes flick to Ivy walking into the king’s study as I’m going through scrolls—curly hair controlled in tight braids going down the sides of her head. She halts a few feet away, clasping her hands together.
“Sir, we need a king,” she states.
“It will not be me. I won’t do it.” I shake my head, continuing to rummage through the scrolls, but she presses.
“It must be you, Rydian. With Elynor and Isa missing, the laws of succession are that if there are no royals left, the second-in-command is to take the throne—the decree of the Fates.”
“A second-in-command has never taken the throne before, Ivy.”
“But now there has to be. You are the second-in-command, and we need to do the ritual. We’ve already pulled Andre’s blood for the essence. We just need to complete—”
“No, I don’t want it!” I shout, slamming my hands on the table as I stand, the items on the desk rattling from my outburst.
“We need you!” she shouts back, knowing me well enough to confront me on the issue.
“We need someone on the throne. It’s been three weeks.
I know you’re not royalty, a Vaelborne, but the people need a king, and that is you.
It has to be you—we have no other choice.
I understand that you’re grieving Andre and that you want to find Elynor and Isa, but we can’t do that without a realm or a king. We can’t do that without you.”
Stepping back, I shove my hands through my hair, now touching the tips of my ears from the growth. Looking out the window from the castle, I see the depths of the ocean come into view amongst the city of Vyria, the realm’s capital.
I try to come to terms with the issue at hand, but I know deep down that it has to be me. Pain grips me, squeezing tight in my chest. I will never stop grieving the loss of him.