Page 38

Three. LONG. Days.

We haven’t stopped moving since Delerauh.

The cities and towns all race by in a blur, the only sounds to be heard are the pounding of hooves on the misty terrain.

The only times we rest are to eat food or drink water.

The days are long, and the nights are even longer, as we venture through the mist that grows thicker in the night.

The Cadre’s liquid amber eyes become fluorescent whenever the evening comes.

At first, I was baffled how the Cadre moved so swiftly through the dreary darkness without so much as a lamp or light.

I originally believed that they must be riding through the night blind, staying on the path out of sheer luck.

However, that was until Emyr explained to me on the second night that Galrosans have impeccable night vision due to living amongst the shadows :

“Zulgalros is a kingdom much darker than Malvoria,” he said.

“It’s a land covered in ice and snow. The climate is quite harsh, and there are all manner of creatures that lurk in its shadows.

However, before the Drakhul or any of this, Zulgalros was quite beautiful.

A stunning display of lights used to dance across the expanse, while tiny faeries would weave stories from the swirling snow to entertain the children in our villages.

The shadows that used to roam were more docile creatures—similar to Danté—but the Drakhul changed all of that. ”

There was a rawness in his tone that made my heart ache for the things his kingdom lost. The Drakhul not only stole peace from Malvoria, but Zulgalros as well.

It isn’t just a disease for Malvoria, but it’s also a leech to King Tiernan’s own people.

I can’t comprehend why the king would plague them with the mist. Wouldn’t he desire his own kingdom to be unified—strong—instead of weak and hidden behind the shadows?

There’s so much happening beyond Malvoria that I’ve never heard before, as history and stories have been warped or twisted from fear of the Galrosans.

Every story spoken of them only highlights their evil deeds.

Yet, as I have journeyed with the Cadre, I’ve been shown kindness and compassion more readily than I ever was in Aurelius.

“We’re an hour from the palace,” Emyr says, pulling me from my thoughts.

A chill trails along my spine as I focus on my surroundings for the first time in several hours.

Holy Celestae, how long have I been daydreaming? I wonder.

The terrain looks different here in comparison to the southern part of the kingdom.

Rolling hills, mountain ranges, and even the woods appear to be more dense.

A shaky breath escapes me as I take in the ashen remains of a colossal structure on one of the blackened hillsides.

An eerie feeling trails along my skin, warning me to be wary of this place, though I’m not sure why. There’s something foreboding here.

I worry my lip as I notice hundreds of houses lay within these ruins.

Hundreds of lives and families once dwelt here, and now there’s only the carcasses of their remains.

Even in its decaying state, I can see how resplendent this place once was.

Compared to the structures in Delerauh and Aurelius, every house and building left amongst the ruins is grand.

What in all Celestae ? —

Suddenly, a hammering pressure assaults the front of my skull. The pain is so unbearable that I want to scream. I raise a hand to my temple, swaying slightly, when my vision goes dark:

A burning house.

Screams echoing across the grounds.

A hand trying to reach for me.

“Run!” a voice commands. “RUN!”

“Maeva,” Emyr’s steady voice calls, pulling me away from my nightmare. “Are you alright?”

As suddenly as the throbbing began, it ceases. Something about this place must have triggered it.

So strange.

I’ve never experienced one while being awake.

Perhaps it’s the overwhelming exhaustion causing me to have such visions. It would also explain why my head was throbbing moments ago. Sleep deprivation can easily cause hallucinations.

“Rosey?” Emyr whispers. There’s such a tenderness in his voice. I swivel my head around and am met with his worried eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I say, forcing a smile. “I had a headache for a moment, but it’s gone now.”

“You must be exhausted from the journey,” he reasons. “Don’t worry–you’ll have time to rest before meeting the king.”

A tight smile crosses my lips as I face forward once more.

“What is this place?” I ask, pointing to the ruins. “It feels?—”

“Ominous?” Laisren interjects.

I nod.

“Yes. Do any of you know what happened here?” I ask .

Emyr’s body stiffens behind me, shifting uncomfortably. The others have gone rigid as well.

“Did I say something wrong?” I ask.

Emyr clears his throat. “N-No. You didn’t say anything wrong. It’s just complicated,” he says. “It’s difficult for me to speak about.”

My brows pinch together. “What do you mean?” I ask.

Emyr releases a sigh, looking out at the destruction. He seems haunted by this place. There’s so much regret and pain laden within his eyes, and it breaks my heart to see it. I grab ahold of his helmet, forcing his gaze back to my own.

“What happened here, Emyr?” I whisper.

“I’m not sure that’s a story you’ll want to hear, Rosey,” he mumbles.

I placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “I murdered the soldiers in Aurelius,” I reply. “I assure you that I can handle your darkness.”

He’s hesitant as he looks at me, but I offer him the most sympathetic smile I can muster, even though the thought of what he could tell me weighs heavily on my heart. After a moment, he releases a sigh, nodding his head before returning his gaze out to the ruins.

“This,” he begins, his tone full of sorrow, “is the first place I was ordered to kill someone.”

An audible gasp escapes my lips.

“It was my first assignment for the king,” he continues. “I was seventeen, and I didn’t have a choice. This place is a reminder of what I’ve become, and how far I was willing to go to please my father.”

His voice hitches on the last word, and I feel such sympathy for the Galrosan High General. “I can still hear their screams in my slumber,” he whispers.

“I’m so sorry,” I say. “Who were they?”

“A family,” Emyr replies. “Tiernan believed that they were hiding something important from him, and that—in his mind—is high treason. So, my soldiers and I killed the father and mother first. When it came time for me to punish the children, I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t.”

“What happened to the children then?” I ask .

Emyr’s eyes close briefly as a single tear slides down the part of his face that’s not obscured by the helmet. Perhaps the High General is more tenderhearted than I originally gave him credit.

“That’s another story entirely,” he replies.

“Not a day goes by that I wish I hadn’t become this , but I can’t escape.

My actions that day led the king to believe that I defied his direct orders, which is why this place is still in ruins, and it wasn’t rebuilt.

It’s my punishment and reminder that I became what he wished for me to be. ”

“You were just a child, Emyr,” I say. “You never should’ve been put in that situation. You became what you had to be in order to survive.” I look around at the other members of the Cadre. “You all had to. I see that now, and for that, I’m so sorry.”

My heart hurts for the man behind me, and what he was forced to do as a child . It aches for his faithful friends that have stood by his side through it all—even if they became devils in the process.

My dear, devils shroud their sins in the darkness, Saoirse interjects. The Cadre have brought theirs to light—taking responsibility for their actions. They’re not devils so much as they are pawns.

I believe you’re ri ? —

“You do not have to apologize for our choices, Maeva,” Laisren interrupts.

“We might not have wanted to become trained killers, or “demons” as the Malvorians lovingly refer to us, but we’ve been able to stand together through the darkest of storms. This place is the dreariest for Emyr, while mine is on the battlefield.

Virgil’s is the day he watched his sister die, and Riordan’s…

well… I’m not really sure when his day occurred. ”

“The day I was lumped together with you, mates,” Riordan jests, making us all laugh.

“In all sincerity, though, it’s the day I had to stand by and watch Virgil being beaten to a bloody pulp by his father.

He was the last one to join us in our training, so his father was ruthless and tougher on him than he ought to have been.

We’d been training for at least four years before his arrival. ”

“Indeed,” Laisren replies. “We didn’t even know Lord Kitt had a son until he presented Virgil to Tiernan to join our cadre.”

“What a happy addition it ended up being,” Riordan says, reaching across to slap Virgil on the shoulder. “Got my best mate out of the deal.”

“Because you annoyed me to no end until I agreed to be your friend,” Virgil answers in his usual stoic tone. However, from the way his eyes crinkle in the corners, it leads me to believe that he’s just as fond of his friend.

“Always so grumpy, mate.” Riordan tsks.

Virgil’s eyes connect with mine, and I smile at the Galrosan commander. “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to your sister, Virgil?” I ask.

The Galrosan stiffens, fidgeting with the reins. He’s quiet for several moments and none of the others cut in. He seems to be somewhere else in his mind—as if swept away to another time and place, perhaps reliving that moment again?

“She’s gone,” he whispers.

My smile falls at his declaration.

Well done, Maeva.

“I-I didn’t mean to cause you any?—”

“No,” he interrupts. “It isn’t you, Maeva. She’s been gone for a long time. It was before I joined the Cadre, and I actually ended up joining because of her.”

There’s so much heartache and grief reflecting from Virgil that feels like a complete mirror to my own. I suppose that’s why we’ve become friends. We recognized what a shredded and broken soul looks like in another person.

“I’m sorry,” I reply. “I wish she were still here to see you.”

Virgil clears his throat. “Thank you,” he croaks. “I’ll be with her again one day.”

“Until Eternity,” I say.

Virgil tilts his head, nodding in agreement. “Until Eternity.”

“Alright, mates,” Riordan growls. “Brace yourselves. We’re nearly there.”

“Home, sweet home,” Virgil sighs.

I nearly choke at the sight before me.

There’s a looming, wooden drawbridge that’s guarded by two sentries in obsidian armor.

The bridge runs across a small body of dark water, but it’s what is past the drawbridge that catches my attention—a gargantuan, onyx palace.

The steeples seem to rise into Eternity as the darkest mist I’ve ever seen swirls around them.

The high walls are made of dark stone in various shapes and sizes, with flying buttresses cascading toward the vaulted roofs.

Though there are large windows throughout the structure, nothing about it feels like an open invitation.

Every ominous detail feels like a trap, intriguing enough to lure one within its walls, only to imprison them.

A chill runs down my spine when the cool touch of a dark presence caresses me. It feels as if phantom hands are roaming over me—assessing me. This doesn’t feel at all like the shadows of the Cadre, but rather something sinister.

Welcome, Chosen Daughter, a dark, otherworldly voice enters into my head.

I shiver at this strange connection.

Saoirse—

Suddenly, loud wails and shrieks sound from all directions, as if they’re circling us. Emyr’s shadows fan out, and the attack stops as suddenly as it began.

“Bloody nuisances,” he growls.

As he calls his shadows back, the cool touch returns—more aggressive this time. It’s nefarious—immoral, even.

What in Holy Celestae is that? I ask, horrified.

It’s the Drakhul, Saoirse growls. It senses you and desires to… study yo u.

Is it alive? I ask.

It is, and it isn’t. It’s a form of ancient darkness. Though it has spread its poison throughout the kingdoms of Zulgalros and Malvoria, it’s strongest when near its source, Saoirse replies.

What is the source? I ask.

Not what, but who, she replies coolly.

Is it Tiernan? I inquire.

She doesn’t respond.

We’re nearly at the drawbridge when Emyr leans in, his helmet brushing against my hair.

“Welcome to the Palace of Nightmares, Rosey.”