Chapter 7
Another afternoon spent bent over old, dusty books, and still no closer to what I need. My back aches, so I stand and stretch out. The hem of my lightweight dress falls to the floor.
As I straighten, I look down at my personal notebook, reading the handwritten passage for the thousandth time.
In the wake of the elves’ triumph over the dragons, when their victory fires had not yet cooled, the witch came to the eternally burning pit of Torrynth. That pit of unending flame where none can reach by foot or wheel. How she got there, no one knows.
There she gathered three relics of power.
The first, her own blood, cut by one of fire, was offered upon the stone to waken the flame’s will.
The second, the Diadem of the Elves, was cast into the fire as tribute to what once was.
The third, the blade that slew the Dragon King, made from their very own, was thrust into the blaze to still its hunger and turn its gaze upon the world.
What words she spoke were not recorded, only that the fire answered.
Its light dimming, its breath stretching low across the land until the sun itself was veiled.
When the blaze subsided, the witch was gone, along with her the relics.
The world was changed. The sun has not since been seen, and the dragons have not since flown.
Three enchanted items were used to create the spell that cursed our land all the way from deep in dragon territory, and I need to find them all. I think they’re the key.
This knowledge is not known to most people, if any at all.
It’s believed that the only people present while it was cast was the Elven King Oshenor and the witch he tricked into loving him and following him loyally.
Elves live a long time—hundreds of years—but this was before any currently living elf’s lifetime.
The secrets have been lost with time, and if I don’t do something now, who knows when someone will try again.
The knowledge could one day be lost forever.
The moment I lean back in my seat, two figures emerge out of nowhere, pulling out two chairs at my table and seating themselves before I can even process what’s happening.
“Uh—hi…” I say to Raef, looking at him with confusion.
It’s a small square table with four chairs, and he sits on my right side.
I cast my gaze away and find Yara sitting across from me, slouched back with her arms crossed, shooting a violet, hateful glare my way.
I’m glad they can’t shoot fire from their eyes, because I’d be ashes right now.
Along with my irreplaceable books. Still, I can’t help but feel envious of her purple-hued irises. They’re beautiful. I’d kill for them.
“Hi,” Raef responds with a wide grin. He’s wearing a soft, deep red shirt that match his eyes, which, unsurprisingly, have that same enchanting look of a flickering flame within. This is the first time I’ve seen any of them wear anything but black.
Yara says nothing.
“Can I… help you guys?”
“No. Just thought we’d come check out the library. We don’t have nearly this many books where we’re from,” he glances around at the shelves that go on and on before he flicks his gaze back to me. “Too delicate with a bunch of temperamental dragon shifters running around.”
“But you—” I stop myself. I don’t want to bring up a very sensitive subject, but something tells me I can trust him. I don’t think much offends him. “You don’t even blow fire anymore, right?”
I glance between the both of them, weighing their reactions. Raef’s grin widens as he gives one curt nod. “Right.”
“If we did, you wouldn’t be sitting here,” Yara adds in a bored tone. Her voice is low and raspy. I can’t help feeling a jolt of envy at the sultriness of it. My voice in comparison suddenly feels young, innocent.
“Well, that’s just rude,” I respond. “What did I ever do to you?”
She sighs, glancing away and picking at a nail. “Everything.”
Raef raises his eyebrows at her, as if he’s mildly surprised by her behavior.
“So, where’s your delightful boyfriend?” I ask her.
Raef chokes back a laugh and Yara looks up at me again, this time like I’ve truly struck a nerve.
“That’s none of your business,” she sneers. “And what are you laughing at?” Finally, her ire isn’t directed at me.
“I love Daegan like a brother, but he’s never had a girlfriend in his life. He has fuck buddies. Not at the top of his priorities.”
Her eyes narrow in on him more, and I almost feel bad as I watch her tough exterior break and show the smallest flash of hurt. “Is that what he says?”
“No. He would never. But you know it’s the truth. Ditch his ass if you don’t like it.”
“I do like it. Maybe we use each other, have you ever thought about that?”
I observe the very personal interaction, and it seems they’ve forgotten I’m here for a moment. Her gaze flies to mine before she stands and storms off into the deep abyss of bookshelves.
I raise my eyebrows at him in silence, but he simply shakes his head then rolls his neck.
I sigh and then redirect the conversation back to the point I was trying to make before we veered far off the path. “I’m assuming he sent you to check up on me. Make sure I’m not plotting some grand scheme he created in his delusional head.”
He folds his arms and nods his head, grinning again. “Yep.” Both of his cheeks dimple. He’s handsome, with his rich golden bronze skin and short tight curls. He also has a strange facial piercing. A small, delicate black hoop through his nostril. I don’t hate it.
But then I imagine Adrian with one and it makes me laugh on the inside. It would look ridiculous on him.
“And what could possibly keep him so busy here that he had to send his minions to look after him?” I say it in a light, teasing tone, because I don’t want to make an enemy of Raef. I think I might even like him.
“Your father. And his father. They had a meeting.”
“Oh.” I had no idea.
“Nothing important, I’m sure. Just diplomacy, and all that stuff,” he says with a sigh as he leans back in his chair.
“Right…” I glance up from the book that I keep pretending I’m trying to read, but my present company keeps proving to be far more interesting. “And who are you to them? A hand? A guard?”
He rubs his chin, averting his gaze. “That’s complicated. A friend, at first. Now, I suppose the most accurate thing you could call me is his personal guard.”
“And you want more,” I could be off, but I say it as a statement, not a question.
He looks at me, his lips turning up at the side.
“We used to be a much more… organized people. Before the war, as you may know…” His eyes flick to my book in front of me, then back to me.
“We were our own kingdom. Daegan’s great-great-grandfather was king.
Had that continued, he’d be prince now. We do still look at them as our unofficial leaders, but, of course, the elves no longer allow us to be our own kingdom.
The elf king has been the only king in all these lands since. Everyone bows to him.”
“But you don’t agree with it?”
He quirks a brow at me. “We live very, very far away. In a land most of you have never even seen. Your father has never even visited. Yet he governs us all? Why?”
“You’re speaking very freely to the daughter of the king,” I say softly, unthreatening.
He shrugs. “I’m pretty good at reading people. I think I can speak openly with you. Besides… what have I really got to lose?”
We sit in silence for a moment as I search his fiery eyes, and I debate opening up further, to see if I can potentially have an ally in him, but a voice interrupts us, causing me to jump at the sound of it.
“Knew I’d find you here.” It’s Meela.
“You were looking for me? Why?” I ask. I glance at Raef. “She never comes in here,” I explain to him with a lower voice.
“I heard that.”
“Well, am I wrong?”
“No.” she takes the seat that a very angry Yara vacated, plopping her heels up on the table.
I shoot her a glare. “Get your dirty boots off the table.”
She scowls at me, but removes her feet, then runs a hand through her always shiny, straight, sleek black hair.
Meela doesn’t like to sweat. She adores the finer things like soaps and fragrances, and she loves her nightly baths.
It’s one of the perks of living in the castle as the daughter of the king’s hand.
Running water, and countless water elementals who can warm the water supply with a wave of the hand.
It’s one of the few things I find myself useful for as far as my water magic goes.
Truthfully, I really don’t use it for much else on a day-to-day basis.
I know that the armies train using their elemental magic, but there hasn’t been a real threat to us in centuries. We’ve grown comfortable, complacent, and dare I say—arrogant.
“What are you doing here?” she asks Raef, as if she only just noticed his presence.
“Exploring,” he answers with an impish grin.
She stares at him for a moment, and I see the distrust swimming in her eyes. “…Okay.” She snaps her head and focuses her gaze back on me. “I was looking for you because I wanted to see if you would accompany me to the shops tomorrow. I need a few new dresses. And I’m out of soaps.”
“No you’re not.”
“Okay, I’m not. But I’m out of the good ones.”
“Okay, fine. I will go with you.”
“Can I come?” Raef asks rather boldly. We’re supposed to be enemies, yet here he is, so comfortable at the table with us like we’re old friends, and now he wants to go shopping with us. Meela whips her head his direction, doing a dreadful job of hiding her surprise and disapproval.
“Yes,” I say.
And now her head whips to me. “What?”
“Why not? We’re supposed to be exercising diplomacy, getting to know our neighbors from the south. Why not show him around?”
“Excellent,” he says.
“Don’t get any ideas about either one of us,” Meela tells him. “We’re not interested.”
“Neither am I,” he shoots back.
She squints her eyes at him, less hostile this time, like he’s a puzzle she can’t figure out.
“Okay, well… tomorrow after the breakfast bell. Don’t be late.” She rises to leave, and at that moment Yara returns looking slightly calmer than before. Meela gives her one eyebrow raising glance before leaving without a word, which Yara ignores, gesturing for Raef to follow.
He stands and nods at me before vanishing, and I’m left to the powerful silence of the library once again.