Page 15 of A Storm of Fire and Ash

“You must go, Elara. And never come back here,” he insisted, wiping away the tear that began to roll down my cheek with a tenderness that made my heart ache.

“I will not do that. Just let me try!” I shouted, shutting my eyes tightly as I willed my magic to manifest. I could feel its presence, waiting to be unleashed.

Come on, fire, don’t fail me now!

I felt a tiny spark flicker to life within me, but just as quickly as it had come, it slipped away, extinguished like a candle caught in a gust of wind. The cooing of another dove echoed ominously down the hall.

“Sweet-Pie…” his voice broke gently, filled with a sorrow that pierced my heart.

“No! I can do this! I can free you! I have my magic now!” I exclaimed, pulling my hands out from between the cold bars of his cell and pressing them against my chest as if my anguish could ignite the flames I so desperately needed.

“Elara, you must go,” he urged, extending his hands through the bars to cradle my face.

“Do not blame yourself for what happened. Find it within to forgive yourself. I love you so much. Your mother loved you just as fiercely. She always said that you were her prophecy. I believe this was all supposed to happen the way it did, and she knew it.”

Tears streamed down my face, and I began to ugly-cry, snot dripping from my nose as my vision blurred from the tears. I will always blame myself for my mother’s death. It was unforgivable even if it was a stupid fucking prophecy from the gods. Curse them.

“I love you, too. I’m so sorry, Father. I promise I will be back. I’ll bring you food, and I-I’ll figure out a way to get you out!” I cried out, my voice cracking under the weight of my emotions as another dove sound echoed down the dim hallway.

“Go, Sweet-Pie. Remember what I told you.” He caressed my chin lovingly before crawling to the far back of his cell, where he sank onto a pile of hay that looked unbearably dirty and old.

He wrapped a cloak around himself, a familiar material that brought a wave of comfort mixed with sorrow.

It was the same cloak that had wrapped around me after I killed my mother.

Zayn.

“I love you, Father,” I sobbed one last time, feeling the heaviness of our separation clawing at my heart.

With determination, I stood up, turning and running towards Eryn.

I didn’t glance at the other men trapped in their cells, nor did I wait for Eryn to catch up.

The only thing that mattered was the need for fresh air, the instinct to escape this place of darkness and despair.

“Elara! For fuck’s sake, stop! You are way too fast! Someone will notice!” Eryn hissed from behind.

Lost in my thoughts, I sprinted, my father’s final words ringing in my ears.

There was a weapon hidden within the castle, a weapon that the King coveted to consolidate his power.

I didn’t know what it was, but I felt a flicker of hope that maybe Fintan would have the answers I needed.

I had to find a way to get him to reveal the truth to me.

Eryn caught up with me. “Great Divine, woman. You shouldn’t run like that. It is painfully obvious you are not human. Are you trying to get us killed?” She asked, her voice laced with seriousness.

Shit, I hadn’t thought about that.

“Sorry... I guess I forgot,” I shrugged.

We began to walk through a section of the castle that I had yet to explore, each step echoing softly against the stone floors.

Unlike the damp and shadowy dungeons near the guards’ quarters, this part of the castle felt more open and inviting.

Large windows adorned the walls, allowing the cool night air to flow freely inside.

It felt refreshing against my skin, helping to dry the tears that had stained my cheeks.

Eryn led us toward a balcony that overlooked the sprawling grounds below.

As I reached the edge, I paused and tilted my head back, allowing my gaze to wander upwards to the vast expanse of the night sky.

I filled my lungs with three deep, calming breaths.

When I finally opened my eyes, I was utterly captivated.

The sky was a sprawling canvas of sparkling stars, twinkling brightly against the dark backdrop.

My breath caught in my throat, and a gasp escaped my lips, overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of the celestial display before me.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Eryn asked, her voice soft and contemplative as she tilted her head back to gaze at the vast expanse of the night sky.

Her lavender hair shimmered in the starlight.

I merely nodded in response, lost in the starry display before us.

“Just wait until you go into the Fae kingdoms. It’s nothing like you’ve ever seen. ”

Would I ever make it to the Fae kingdoms? I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to go.

Her silver eyes stared up at the night sky. “We always romanticize the stars,” she continued, “but we overlook that it is the darkness that allows them to shine.”

As I turned to look at her, I noticed that her eyes remained fixed on the night sky, refusing to meet my gaze.

In that moment, I could sense the weight of her thoughts, the deeper reflection buried within her mind.

“This kingdom is a cruel place, Elara,” she said, her tone laced with an undeniable sorrow.

“I’m sorry everything has happened the way it has to you. Life can be cruel.”

Her words wrapped around me like a heavy blanket, and I felt her hurt resonate within me like her pain was my very own. I wondered what experiences had shaped her perspective—what trials or losses had forged such deep empathy in her heart.

Our poignant conversation was abruptly interrupted when a woman’s voice floated toward us, drawing our attention to the open doors nearby.

Eryn straightened her posture, instinctively clearing her throat, as if preparing to address whatever was coming next.

But just as she was about to say something, the woman stepped out, her presence commanding our focus entirely.

“Oh, hello,” she said softly, her voice smooth like butter, but it was her appearance that truly captivated me.

Queen Faylinn stood before me, radiant in a long, royal blue gown that hugged her curves elegantly.

A luxurious white fur cloak draped over her shoulders.

The diamonds that adorned her neck shimmered like the stars above us, catching the moonlight and scattering small glimmers across the dim space.

Her soft green eyes held a glow that seemed almost ethereal, while her dark brown hair was styled intricately atop her head, lending her an air of regality. She was, without a doubt, otherworldly.

Eryndor bowed her head respectfully. “I apologize, Your Highness. I was only showing Elara here around. We will leave you to gaze at the stars,” she said, her voice steady as she glanced between the Queen and me.

“Nonsense,” she replied, waving off the man standing beside her with a flick of her wrist. I noticed his auburn hair—a striking mane that framed his face—and the quick glance he cast toward Eryn.

They seemed to share a connection, a familiarity that piqued my curiosity.

“I much prefer company. Elara? As in the Elara that my son has taken such a liking to?” The Queen’s words lingered in the air, making my heart flutter with nerves.

So he had been talking about me. To the Queen. To his mother.

A small smile crept onto my face despite the sudden wave of awkwardness that washed over me.

I attempted a curtsey, then bowed my head in a gesture of respect.

“Elara,” I began, but suddenly a rush of panic gripped me.

She couldn’t know my last name! If they discovered who my father was, I would be in serious trouble.

In that frantic moment, my favorite fruit sprang to mind—a peach.

My eyes darted around the room, landing on a large carved wooden tapestry that hung from the stone wall.

The center displayed Irongate’s symbol: an eye ensnared by thorns.

“Peachwood. Elara Peachwood, Your Highness,” I managed to say, my voice steadying with unexpected confidence.

Eryn stifled a laugh but quickly cleared her throat, attempting to cover her amusement.

The Queen approached me, her hand reaching out to gently lift my chin.

“No need for such formalities, darling. Let me have a proper look at you,” she said, her voice a soothing balm.

I straightened up, glancing at Eryndor, who simply shrugged and continued to face forward.

The Queen circled me with a predatory grace, her gaze assessing every detail. “You are quite breathtaking,” she declared. “Prince Fintan was right. Tell me, what is it that you do?”

Anxiety surged within me. I hadn’t rehearsed anything for this moment.

Just as I felt the weight of her gaze pressing down on me, Eryn stepped forward, sensing my struggle.

“My Queen,” she began, her tone a mix of reverence and slight hesitation, “Elara here will be training with me. She wants to learn how to wield weapons properly and to fight.”

Eryn’s words hung in the air, a lifeline thrown to me amid the uncomfortable scrutiny.

The Queen chuffed softly, a delicate laugh escaping her lips as she waved her hand dismissively. “Nonsense. Why would such a pretty thing like you want to learn to fight?” Her tone was light, but there was an underlying intrigue in her gaze.

Eryn, who had been about to speak again, fell silent as I interjected.

“I find war fascinating. I want to be able to defend my—my Prince… and King… and of course you, Your Highness.” I babbled, the words tumbling out in a rush, seeking to convey my earnestness.

“I want to be a lady but also a warrior.” As I finished, I held my breath, hoping my sincerity would resonate with her.