Chapter Five
Kade
Flashback…
T he heavy doors groaned open, and my father’s firm hand guided me into the vastness of his throne room. The weight of expectancy hung in the air like fog, pressing against my small shoulders, making me feel as though I needed to stand straighter.
"Come, Kade." My father's voice resonated through the chamber, pulling me forward as my eyes danced over the fires that lined the walls.
Marlena and Willow, the soothsayers, sat on the opposite side of the throne room from us. Their gazes found mine across the room. A chill curled around my spine, but I squared my jaw and approached, mirroring the bravery I had seen in my mother countless times when she was scared of my father.
We settled before them. I had sat in the balconies countless times for the readings the soothsayers did for my father, but I had never been the one sitting in front of them.
"Welcome, young prince. It appears your fate has been chosen for you," Marlena said as her eyes clouded over, turning a milky white, the color of winter skies.
Despite the familiarity of Marlena's craft, something felt different this time.
Maybe because the reading was mine. Then my heart quickened.
I was worried she would see my secret: that I could wield shadows.
Suddenly, I felt queasy at the thought of Marlena revealing to my father that I did.
Mother had told me all my life to keep that power to myself, keep it hidden because it would one day keep me and my brother safe, and so far I had done well at keeping it under wraps.
All I could do was hope that she wouldn't see it.
"You are the master of all the elements," she said.
I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. What? It couldn't be. I couldn't be . . .
“He is the Peacebringer, and with him, the end shall come,” she finished, her voice dropping to a hushed, foreboding tone.
Willow didn’t look very intrigued about what was happening right now.
Did she think something different? I would have to talk with her soon.
She always healed my mother after my father got too rough.
And what did Marlena mean by the end? The end to what?
My mind raced with the implications of her words, the weight of them settling on my chest.
Marlena's trancelike state waned, her eyes clearing to their natural color. I frowned, my role as the eldest son and heir to Ember already carrying expectations I could barely fathom. I was only a boy. I didn’t know how to save the world.
But as my father clasped a hand on my shoulder and smiled down at me, I had a feeling he didn’t want me to save anything—because my father only knew how to break things.
Darkness clung to my rooms, the only light a faint glow from the embers in the hearth, when I the grip of my father's hand on my shoulder woke me. His fingers dug into my flesh, rousing me.
"Wha—" My voice was thick with sleep.
"Get up," he commanded, and I shoved the covers aside.
"Father?" I blinked rapidly, trying to chase away the remnants of the dream that clouded my vision. "What are you doing?"
His silhouette loomed over me. He’d always been a figure of authority, his stature demanding obedience without question, but this early intrusion was unusual, even for him.
He’d never been interested in me or Rhet until I’d had the meeting with the soothsayer yesterday.
Ever since then, he had been around me constantly.
"Up, now," was all he offered by way of explanation, his voice a low growl that left no space for arguing.
I obeyed.
"Okay," I murmured, pulling on the tunic he had thrown at me, its fabric rough against my skin. I hurriedly dressed.
"Your training is not a matter to be questioned, Kade," he finally said.
"Training for what?" I asked as I trudged behind him as we left my room.
I shuffled through the dim corridors of the palace, my feet dragging against the floor.
My father's towering figure walked beside me. I had a bad feeling, and I’d learned, even at the young age of nine, that my bad feelings when it came to my father were always right.
"Your mastery of fire is beyond your years," he began, his voice echoing off the halls, as everyone else was still asleep. "But, we must wake up the rest of your abilities, sooner rather than later."
"Father, I don’t understand. You took the crown and you have Ember.
What is the rush?" I murmured. I kept my eyes fixed on the floor, avoiding the intensity that I knew burned in his.
We reached the end of the hallway, stepping out into the open courtyard, where the sky was just beginning to hint at dawn's approach.
"Kade," he said sharply, turning to face me. "Your role as the Peacebringer is crucial. Do not underestimate the importance of your presence by my side. Once your powers have awoken, we will not only have Ember. We will take the world."
I nodded slowly, a response of obedience rather than agreement. There was no use arguing. My father's plans were immovable once he had his mind fixed on something.
"We will be unstoppable," he declared. His words slithered through me. Even at my young age, I didn’t want any part in this. I'd seen the things my father had done to my mother over the years. And then what he’d done to our family—my grandfather, grandmother, my uncle. He’d taken Ember for himself mere months ago by killing them.
What more could he possibly gain by taking the rest of the world too?
"Father, to what end?" I dared to ask, my voice steady despite the growing knot of apprehension in my chest.
"Power is everything, Kade. And who better to share it with than my son?" He forced a smile, but I knew it was a lie. My father shared nothing. I would be his weapon and nothing more. I nodded again, and then his arms lit with flames and he attacked me. My training had begun, and I wasn’t sure I’d survive it.
Eight years later
I felt the heat before I saw the flame, a rush of blistering air slicing across my cheekbone as I jerked my head to the side.
I tasted blood, but at least it meant I was still awake.
My knees buckled as I crashed against the stones.
I pressed my palms to the floor, desperately trying to find the will to shove myself up.
This was for her, to keep her safe.
I reminded myself of my purpose every time I felt my resolve weakening.
My father watched from the far end of the practice ring, arms folded over his chest with a look of disappointment painted over his features.
I hated the way his shadow cut across the torches.
If I was being honest with myself, I hated everything about this man.
Smoke curled from his fingertips as his arms loosened at his sides. “Get up. Again.”
I stood. My calves screamed, muscles twitching, but I didn’t hesitate. I’d endure. I gathered the last scraps of breath left in my lungs, counted to three, and raised my fists, my flames lighting across my knuckles.
He advanced. Step, pause, step—every movement deliberate. He preferred precision: knuckles into collarbone, heel into ribcage, palm splayed against the side of my skull to rattle the vision from my eyes. He circled, predatory. I tried to follow with my own feet, but exhaustion tangled them.
“Pathetic.” His eyes were the only warm thing about him, the only thing I shared with him. The rest of him had been carved from something colder than hate. “You were supposed to be the chosen one. Instead, I get a boy who can’t even block his father’s punch.”
He feinted, and I caught the blur of movement too late. His fist connected with my sternum. Fire exploded inside my chest. I staggered back, winded, clutching my breastbone.
I heard the words before I saw the next attack. “Years. Years, Kade, and you haven’t shown a single sign of being more than ordinary. Maybe I’ve been too easy on you.” He spat the words like they were poison.
He lifted his hand and the room filled with light.
For one breathless second, a sun burned in his palm.
It grew, wild and red, folding in on itself with a deep, hungry whine.
The torches dimmed by comparison. Sweat ran down my spine; my shirt was already soaked through, clinging to my blistered skin.
He hurled the orb, and there was no dodging it.
I screamed as the reek of burnt hair and flesh rose in oily waves around my face. Biting down on my tongue, I fought through the pain.
I braced for the next attack, but the sound that split the quiet wasn’t what I was expecting. It was my mother’s voice, shrill and shaking with something past rage.
“Valos! Enough!” She swept into the room.
Shoved past my father—no one shoved past my father, especially not my mother, but she did—she came straight to me.
He glared at her, eyes sparking, but she didn’t flinch.
Her hands were already on my cheeks, forcing my head up, scanning the damage on my chest and down my arm.
Her fingers trembled, but the pain was too much.
I wanted to tell her I would be okay, but everything was hurting so badly.
I fell to the ground, unable to hold my weight any longer.
“You’re going to kill him!” she shouted.
“If he’s the Peacebringer, a little fire won’t kill him. Hopefully, it’ll wake up whatever power is sleeping in him,” Father growled. He flexed his hands, still smoldering, knuckles blackened with soot. Snarling, he paced away in anger.
I lay there, chest heaving, fighting not to sob.
Every inch of my body throbbed. I felt the blood and sweat pooling under my head, sticky and warm, and stared up at the gold swirls of the ceiling.
This room had always been the worst prison.
No bars, just tradition and expectation, walls lined with the ghosts of ancestors glaring down from portraits.
My mother managed to help me sit up, doing her best to ensure her iron cuffs didn’t brush against my skin.
I slumped forward, pressing my forehead to the floor. The heat had baked the tiles; they scorched the skin where my sweat made contact. I waited for the pain to recede, for the trembling to stop. It didn’t. I knew it wouldn’t. This was the worst damage he’d ever inflicted.
My mother dragged me upright, and we stood there a moment so I could catch my breath.
“We need to get you to Willow,” she said as we made our way to Willow’s quarters one step at a time. By the time we made it there, my eyes were starting to close of their own accord. The adrenaline was wearing off, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d be awake.
My mother half-carried, half-dragged me into Willow’s room, every step sending aftershocks of pain through my ruined body. Willow’s door was already open, as if she had been waiting for us. Honestly, she probably had been.
She rose from her chair with the effortless grace of the water fae and moved to us urgently, pale blue, royal robes dragging behind her.
“Valos went too far this time. We need your help,” my mother implored her.
“Of course,” she said, taking my weight from my mother’s arms and guiding me to the cot.
“Breathe, Kade,” Willow instructed, her voice steady and low.
I tried. My throat convulsed, but the scream died away, replaced by an animalistic, broken gasp.
Water pooled along the burns, trickling into cracks, coaxing the pain from bone and sinew.
My vision tunneled, but I fought to keep my eyes open, to focus on Willow’s face.
The water kept coming, flooding over me in rippling waves. My skin began to numb, the burning ebbing to a dull throb. The wounds closed, not perfectly but enough to stop the bleeding, leaving behind marred, pink skin. I started breathing easier.
“I understand why you told me about her now . . . ,” I murmured, and she looked at me, confused.
“My mate. Thinking of her is what keeps me going during the bad days. I think you knew that I needed something to hold onto since it’s only gotten worse over the years.
” Understanding washed over Willow’s features.
Her hands froze above my chest. The beads of water hung suspended in the air, glowing faintly.
“I’m sorry you’ve had to endure so much torment so young.
But I think it’s coming to an end. Valos’s ambitions grow every day.
You know this. But something changed this morning.
My sister saw the Sky Elves in our session with him.
And the ruin to come.” She looked at me then.
“We do not have months or years. We have days. Maybe less before she tells him what she saw. I’ve done all I can to try and save my sister from her fate, but now it is time to let her go.
We need to move forward with our plans of escape.
” She looked to my mother then. Willow had told us what she had seen, what would happen, and we had made plans over the years, but it had been a waiting game this entire time—until now.
“So what next?” I rasped, sitting up through the haze of lingering pain.
Willow set a hand over mine. “We run. I will escape with your mother tomorrow night. You need to write a letter letting your father know you will be leaving to further your training with the Western Wyverns by morning because you feel he has taught you all he can. He will know in a few days’ time that your mother and I are gone, and then we will have a couple of years if we’re lucky while he builds up his armies and initiates the war on Heavensreach. ”
Mother stepped closer, knelt beside the cot, and grabbed Willow’s hand. “What about Rhet and Valla? I can’t just leave them.”
Willow’s gaze dropped. “Rhet will join the rebellion alongside Kade in time. But Valla—” She shook her head.“She is already his. If you try to take her, the whole plan collapses. You will die and we will not win this war.”
Mother’s face shattered. She stared at the floor. “You expect me to leave my daughter behind?”
“I expect you to do what needs to be done,” Willow said, voice low but steely. “She is gone, Your Majesty. I have seen it. You cannot change her fate.” A beat passed before Willow continued, “We all have to play our roles for this to work.”
My mother finally looked up, tears streaming freely down her face, and she nodded.