Chapter 1
Alora
It’s indescribable, the feeling of choking on thick, hot ash.
My lungs revolt with every jagged inhale. Each breath claws at my throat and I’m forced to bring my sleeve up to cover my mouth, the loose fabric offering little reprieve.
The floating flakes of debris with their singed edges fall from the sky in such abundance, you’d sooner think the entire realm was being blanketed by a thick suffocating snow, rather than the truth. Everything is burning.
And, someone’s whole world is on fire as I stare upon the devastation that swallows the village before me.
Though I’ve witnessed my own home burn to cinders, nothing could have prepared me for this vast horror.
Sorrow and the heaviness of the air marry together until they cause a pale streak along my soot covered skin. The sting of smoke thrashing against my eyes too much.
King Euron had done this. He sent his soldiers, once whispers of The Hidden began to surface and our whereabouts were sniffed out, like a beast chasing its prey.
A faint ringing echoes in my ears, the fine pitch squealing as the sounds of chaos filter in.
“Alora!”
My name is shouted, but it sounds too far away, as if my head is being held under water.
Through bleary vision, I see silhouettes and shadows running, their aura a faint soft orange.
Flames continue to lick at the house in front of me.
My feet fill with lead as I try to move away from the growing heat, causing me to stagger and nearly fall face first into the charred wood that’s taken on a scaled, ebony appearance.
My stomach roils with the smell of burnt flesh sizzling through the smokey haze.
A new emotion seizes in my chest. Gods, this is too familiar.
I shake my head, as if I could clear my mind from the memories that threaten to break free from the stony wall I’ve thrown them behind.
“Gods damnit, where are you? I need you here with me!” The voice shouts again, the rugged cadence of the words bringing me to my senses.
I can’t afford to lose myself, not now. Not when I have a duty that calls to me. Not when there’s so many depending on me.
I plead with myself as I withdraw my dagger, the opaline hilt reflecting like its own source of flames in the low light. My voice croaks as I whisper, “Get it together. Please. Please.”
Distant cries that feel too familiar rebound throughout the cleared field to my left. It’s the sound of loss, of agony and of rage. I know those cries, they’ve been engraved into my soul since this forsaken war against the king began. It’s the sound of people defeated.
I suck in a shaky gulp of air and immediately sputter, momentarily forgetting to breathe through the cotton sleeve of my tunic, dropping my dagger in the process.
The sickly taste of ash coats my tongue as I roll away from the burning buildings. With my back to the chaos and too hot flames, I try to inhale the cool air again. This time, the sting in my lungs isn’t as severe.
Blinking away the mix of sweat and tears, my vision clears. The faint glow casts forlorn shadows in the distant meadow and treeline, as if they too knew of the wickedness that occurred hours prior.
My shoulders strain against the ground, hard and crunchy from the wilted grass. My hand drags across the scorched earth, searching for my blade. The glint of the cool steel in the moons’ light grabs my attention.
Relief floods my veins as I grab the dagger again.
I hurl myself upright even though my world still feels like it could tilt. The faint calls grow more distant over the crackling of still burning logs and timber.
A sudden pop behind me has me jumping, the ember sizzling past my dark curls, threatening to land in the disheveled tresses.
I grip my dagger by the blade and watch the light reflect off the white opal handle.
The blues and greens meet together in an array of flecks, red glinting in the light from the flames behind me.
I squeeze the cool steel, hard enough to pierce my palm in a stinging pain that quickly turns to a sharp bite.
I hold the pressure steady, seeing how long I can endure the hurt. One count, two count… the warmth blooms in my hand as my surroundings sharpen. My mind clears and the memories that threatened to snake their way through are quickly silenced.
“Alora!”
This time, it’s Leeson’s frantic voice that bellows over the maelstrom of noise.
“I’m here,” I cough, placing my dagger quickly back into its sheath and step away from the thick smoke. “I’m over here,” I repeat with a bit more urgency. Grabbing the hem of my tunic, I rip until a strip of fabric tears away. I wrap the somewhat clean cloth around my palm, hiding the sliced skin.
Leeson’s petite frame comes into view, her pale, glowing hair billows in the wind that’s only gotten harsher.
Fawn colored eyes catch mine, and I can see emotion has etched away at her grimy soot covered skin as well. She quickly hurries to me, arms outstretched as she grasps my shoulders.
“We lost you.” The words rush out of her mouth.
“I thought to check over here for any survivors,” I croak, “but I haven’t seen anyone who made it. I tried to get some of them out, but it was too late. They’re all gone, Leeson.”
My face drops, lips downturned in a fragile frown that threatens to crack. I hold the emotion in my chest, willing it down. I can’t break, not right now when we’re on the brink of failure.
I swallow down the tart feeling of unease. “Any news on the culling bands?”
Her head shakes, the soft tendrils bouncing in between each jerk. The revelation causes my stomach to sink.
“And where is Caym?”
“He’s checking in with the commanders, he’s safe,” she hastily answers.
Her nimble fingers scour along my arms.
“You’re hurt?” Leeson’s eyes drift to mine, her soft brown eyes sharpening.
She grasps my hand with the makeshift bandage and turns it over in her palm. Before I can stop her, she rips the cloth off, revealing the still bloody slice.
The air hums and thickens as I watch her focus on my cut palm. Her magic, dazzling with its soft blue light, wraps around our clasped hands and charges the atmosphere around us. The coolness of her gift envelops me, relieving the sting and ache I was prepared to endure.
I look away and shift my body, unable to meet her gaze.
My feet twist in their boots, crunching the dead grass. My palm is nearly unblemished now, thanks to her. The Hidden is lucky to have her considering many healers, and others with rarity gifts, have been stolen away by King Euron.
“You shouldn’t expose yourself with soldiers nearby, you know this,” I softly chide, “but thank you.”
“Alora, you’re my dearest friend. It was harmless and quick, none would take notice.” Her lips turn into a slight smile, knowing that her magic is something to be in awe of.
“Plus,” she adds, “you are one of our commanders, it’s to be expected that I’d do anything to keep you safe.” My eyes roll so hard I’m sure she can see the whites. Though I know she says it more to remind me of who I am, my cheeks flush nonetheless.
“Ahh.” I simply nod my head. Before I can ask for another update, a gruff voice comes near.
“Leeson? Alora!” The gravel in his voice is a relief to hear.
“Caym, we’re here!” I turn from Leeson and start off in the direction he called from.
The smoke still billows in front of me, though the flames have begun to die down. This village will be smoldering for days to come if it’s anything like we’ve come across before.
I push past the smokey column in front of me, holding my breath and squeezing my eyes closed. Quickly, the man that I’ve spent the last many turns with, jogs into view. He looks frantic, his eyes wide with concern and chest heaving.
Leeson runs past me, her soot filled gown flapping by in her swiftness. I slow my steps, giving her space before coming upon them.
He grips her cheeks while his eyes soften, searching hers. The moons' light glints off his pale blue irises, similar in color to Leeson’s magic. With a deft swoop, he gathers her in his built frame, her form looking even more petite now that she’s in his arms.
They embrace, their lips touching softly before turning more fervent.
I walk slowly up to them and Caym notices me. He pulls away from Leeson and sets her back on her feet. Though she still grips his shirt, her body twists to face mine.
“I told you we’d be safe,” she says the last bit with a hushed tone.
My lips quirk as I watch his gaze return to hers.
“I worry about you always, naymeih.”
For the one I am bound to.
A few moments pass, just enough for the emphasis to linger in the air before he begins again, “Alora, I’m glad to see you as well.
Watching you blaze your way into the village on foot was not what we were expecting.
” He takes a step closer to me, bringing Leeson with him until he’s standing no more than an arm's length away.
“Though your bravery is noted dear friend, I must ask what compelled you to roll around in the soot?”
My eyes slice their way to him and a scowl forms, furrowing my brow into two prominent lines. I can help but notice the mischievous way his eyes twinkle.
Even now, among the sorrow and cruelty, his kinship is refreshing—the familial bond that’s stronger than blood, formed from only true respect and understanding.
“Caym,” I begin, a small smile on my lips, “or should I say, Commander Caym, nice of you to finally join those of us who are actually busy.” I’ve grown accustomed to donning the invisible armor that helps me pretend to be fearless and strong, a warrior who doesn’t let the gaping wounds of my soul bleed.
Sarcasm drips off my tongue as I continue to glare. His eyebrow quirks up and we lock eyes for a few breaths before we rush into an embrace.
We may taunt one another, but that’s what’s made our friendship so easy. We’ve both seen enough pain in our lives to appreciate one another's dark humor.