Page 3 of Veil of Vasara (Fate of the Five #1)

CHAPTER 3 - LORIA

“L oria, please, just come with me,” Nathon grunted, attempting to drag me along.

Nathon's hand was around my wrist. I yanked my arm from his grasp, but he only gripped it tighter. I bit back a whimper of pain, determined not to show my discomfort, but he noticed the tightening of my lips.

Of course he did.

He let go. “Sorry. Does it hurt?”

“It would hurt anyone to be this close to you,” I replied.

He tutted, smiling at me with such arrogance that it took everything I had not to slap him in the face with my free hand.

But that would only make things worse.

“Are you going to come with me?” he asked, his voice vibrating in the air like thunder.

“Do I really have a choice?” I bit back.

“Of course you do. But not all choices are wise choices,” he grinned.

Sorcery had long been shunned, its activities banned, but if someone had told me a drop had been involved in the creation of my brother’s face, I would have believed them. His brilliant white smile was the perfect contrast to his bronze skin, to his short hair, the same shade as the dark mountains that shrouded our home.

Being in his presence was always utterly confusing, for me, and for everyone else. He carried an ethereal air, not one of light, but one of freedom, as if he flung about the world fleetingly as a breeze.

But it was an air, nothing more. The truth was Nathon’s soul was the most revolting thing I had ever come across. He was not that playful, carefree wind, but a stifling smog come to suffocate the masses. To choke them with smoke and blood.

I went to move. He blocked my path.

“I thought this was urgent,” I attempted to use the reason he had approached me against him.

“Ahhh, now you’re suddenly bothered about the summons. You didn’t seem so worried a few minutes ago.”

“That was before you threatened me.”

He scoffed. “When did I do that? Besides, how could you think I would ever hurt my own sister?”

“I'm confident you’re capable of far worse than that.”

“It warms my heart to hear you have such confidence in me.” He bowed deeply, watching me from under his brows as he straightened to his full height.

Nathon was disgustingly good at this. So good at taunting, at getting under people’s skin. He could somehow both charm and disarm anyone into doing whatever he wanted. It was a wonderful trait for politics, or the most dangerous one. I shuddered to think what he would become, when he was crowned King of Audra himself one day.

“You would need to have a heart for that to happen,” I answered.

He laughed again, crossing his arms over his chest. He was about to say something when a flash of lightning rippled across the sky above us, reflecting in his golden eyes. A foreboding roar of thunder followed.

Nathon turned towards the sound, looking thoughtful. “We need to go. They say this storm is going to be one of the worst we’ve had for years.”

He was distracted. I could use this moment to get away, to get out of whatever this summons was. I turned on my heels and ran. I knew this terrain like the back of my hand, if I could just make it to the top of that slope then…

Something cold smacked against my face so forcefully that my ears rang as I fell to the ground. Nathon hovered over me, his right arm outstretched, connected to his rounded black and gold shield.

“Bastard!” I shouted.

“I didn’t expect you to run straight into it.” He set the bottom of his shield on the ground, still holding it at the top. He looked at it with confusion now.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t try to…” I stopped talking as something watery trickled across my lips. I lifted my fingers to touch them. They came away stained with blood.

I looked up at Nathon, expecting him to appear proud or smug. Instead, he appeared absolutely mortified.

He crouched beside me, letting go of his shield.

“Loria,” he sighed. “Why did you have to be so stubborn?” He reached out to touch my nose, where the blood was coming from.

“Get your hands off me,” I hit his forearm.

“We’ve got to stop the bleeding before you see him.” His mouth twisted painfully at the blood running down my face.

“Or maybe, I could avoid seeing him altogether.”

“That’s not an option.” He flicked his brows up and down.

“Why would the sight of my bleeding nose phase father of all people? It’s never bothered him before,” I spat.

Nathon looked down, quickly running his hands through his hair. “Pinch your nose and tilt your head forwards. Hopefully, it stops before we get there.”

A sound of protest escaped my throat, but before I could speak, Nathon whistled. Within seconds, the silhouette of his Erebask -Kazal, emerged from the dense clouds.

Kazal was the largest Erebask in Audra. A creature of magic native to our Kingdom. Birds far more magnificent than any other, able to discharge lightning powerful enough to tear debris from mountains. Kazal’s feathers were like gazing into oblivion itself. A dark and inky blue, blended with an unrelenting black. His eyes, a stunning mix of green and gold, now pierced through the dark fog like arrows. Many had competed, had fought over the right to claim Kazal as their own, but Nathon had outsmarted, outmanoeuvred, or killed anyone who had tried to take Kazal from him.

I had always wondered how Nathon treated the creature, considering how poorly he treated people. But from what I had seen, Nathon treated Kazal with respect…perhaps even love, if he was even capable of such an emotion.

“Get on,” he ordered me, strapping his shield to Kazal.

“But I—"

“I know you don’t like to ride, but I’m not quite sure you’d enjoy dying in a storm either.” He turned up his palms in a questioning gesture.

“I can find my own way back.”

“He’s summoned you. He sent me to fetch you. It has already taken far longer than I would have liked to find you, since you’re always hiding in some hole or crevice. Now, we are far later than we should be, one of the worst storms that the Kingdom has ever seen is on the horizon and you’re bleeding. You are coming with me. Now.”

Kazal looked at me from behind Nathon, having landed while he was speaking. The Erebask squinted as if to tell me, “Do as he says.”

There was a small chance I could escape Nathon, but both Nathon and Kazal? That was impossible. Seeing no other alternative, I reluctantly stepped onto the Erebask, seating myself behind Nathon.

An unease spread throughout my core, clutching at it like talons.

“Hold onto me,” he glanced over his shoulder.

I, even more reluctantly, put my arms around his torso. My nose was still bleeding.

Eventually, after a short flight, the Citadel’s domed roofs came into view. Nathon remained silent as he dismounted and helped me down. The storm was beginning to grow angrier now. The wind was battering our bodies. My hair flew in all directions.

I followed Nathon inside. We began making our way to the throne room. A meeting in the throne room was highly unusual. Waves of anxiety swam through my stomach at the thought of its purpose.

Just before we stepped inside, through thick, dark doors, Nathon stopped walking, and grabbed my chin.

“You look horrendous,” he made it sound more like concern than an insult somehow.

“No thanks to you,” my voice was bitter.

He pointed at me. “Wipe your face, there’s still some blood on it.”

I did as he said.

“Fix your hair.”

“What is this? Is someone important inside?”

Nathon didn’t say anything. Normally he would have replied with some distasteful comment.

“Stop asking questions Loria. Just get on with it,” he commanded in a clipped tone.

I patted my hair down, trying my best to detangle it, but the dark silky strands had already become a matted mess.

Nathon sighed, clearly exasperated. “Gods help us.”

He pushed open the doors.

Behind them, our father sat on the throne. Beside him was our mother. They were whispering and smiling at one another.

“Your—"” Nathon started, but was interrupted by our father, who raised his hand to silence him. He didn’t even look in Nathon’s direction, he was still looking at our mother. He brushed his thumb against her knuckles, kissed them, and murmured something in her ear.

Nathon and I glanced sideways at each other. Our mother was like a ghost of a person, she always had been. The only thing she could acknowledge, could see, could truly interact with was our father. She worshipped him, adored him, made herself into whatever he wanted. She carried out his every demand, his every order, his every request without question.

Finally, after some more hushed words were exchanged between them, our father turned to us.

“Nathon,” his ominous voice echoed through the room. “You found her.”

Nathon only nodded in reply, standing a little straighter under our father’s gaze.

That gaze darted towards me.

“What happened to her face?”

I was standing right there, he could have asked me, but he didn’t. He barely ever addressed me in these situations, always referring to, or asking Nathon questions on my behalf.

Nathon looked uncomfortable, speechless even. It was unsettling seeing him so…unsettled.

Father stood now. I flinched. Nathon however, remained utterly still. Our father walked towards us in measured, drawn out steps.

I could have answered. I could have told him Nathon had smashed my face in with his shield, but for some reason, I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to speak at all. Words retreated from my lips, as if afraid of the air my father breathed.

“I told you to find her, not to damage her. We need her to look presentable.”

“It was a mistake, I—" Nathon protested.

“Yes. It was. You know how much I dislike those.”

The look he gave Nathon promised he would pay for that mistake, very soon.

“You summoned me father,” I finally mustered the courage to say.

“Yes.” His voice was soft, but his moments of tenderness had always been infinitely more frightening.

“I need you to do something for me.”

“Of course.” I bowed my head, feigning obedience.

He came very close to me. I was forced to look at him. Both his dark short beard and hair were braided, skimming the shoulders of his tunic. The tunic was golden, the same shade as his own, as Nathon's, as my eyes. They sparkled against his tan, brown skin. I could see my own reflection in his pupils. I looked so small, so fragile.

“What is it you want me to do, father?”

“Not want… need .” His gritty emphasis on the word sent a shiver skittering down my spine.

Nathon appeared wary, his gaze darting between our two faces.

But my father didn’t notice, he kept staring at me. The corner of his mouth slowly twitched upward before he spoke again.

“You…my girl, are going to kill the King.”