Page 8 of Zepharali: Lord of the East Winds (Lords of the Wind Book 3)
Zepharali
Zepharali was flying so fast that he hit the ground and skidded several feet before coming to a rough halt outside his palace doors.
He didn’t have to go inside. His eldest daughter, Dorema, the Capitan Commandant of all his legions, was leading her wife, Aoide, the Sub-lieutenant of the Infantry. They were already leading their Emergency Tracking Division of amazons, elves, mages, and sunlocks across the grounds.
“Father, what was that?” Dorema gazed toward the Kipmis Mountain.
“I don’t know, but whatever it is, it’s strong enough to deflect my rays.”
“Impossible. Nothing has that kind of power.” Aoide frowned.
Zepharali tossed one side of his robe over his shoulder and allowed his personal aides to fit him in his blue-and-gold armor.
His breath was forced, and his mind moved a mile a minute.
He didn’t know if this new presence was evil, but he wasn’t taking any chances.
His stable handlers came running with their stallions, barely keeping up with their vigorous strides. If Fire Breath hadn’t been brought to him, he would’ve exploded from the stables and come on his own, sensing his master’s unease.
Zepharali was the only titan of an element who still acted as a bringer of justice. He also had a legion that continued to send forces and aid to outer worlds in need of protection against everything from famine to dark evil.
Zepharali had full confidence in his elite squads, but the dark energy hurled back at him from Tir Scáthanna’s highest mountain peak gave him great concern.
Once he’d mounted his war stallion and his commanders did the same, Zepharali looked over the small tactical tracking unit led by another of his five hundred daughters.
“Maybe I should go up there alone first, just in case there’s—”
“Absolutely not.” Dorema shut him down. “We’re going to track and do recon, not fight.”
Zepharali nodded, his heart hammering hard enough to hurt his rib cage.
“So far, there’s been no attacks on our people, so I’ll give this intruder one fair chance to reveal themselves before I deploy our combat unit.”
“I agree,” Dorema’s wife added. “It could be someone seeking refuge and unsure if you’d accept a species from one of the dark realms.”
Zepharali mulled that over for a moment before deciding to trust his commanders.
He made a gesture for them to continue forward, as it would take them a few hours to reach the peak of the Kipmis by ground instead of by way of his element.
There were almost sixty of them, and he could only carry about twenty on his wind.
He was still uneasy that whoever was hiding up there might have time to mount a defense during their three-hour trek through the dense forest, so he prayed to the gods for safety and security.
As they made their way through the gates of his palace, his oracle and seer were standing with the Seargent of the Wall.
Kerdos bowed slightly, his bright orange, wavy hair falling over his broad shoulders. “My lord, the elders have requested an audience with you.”
“They have it.” Zepharali leapt from Fire Breath’s back and approached the wise women with the respect and honor they deserved.
The oldest of the two, eyes glowing a startling neon yellow, dropped her chin to her chest.
“Lord, I’m afraid I come with disturbing images.”
“Speak freely and with conviction,” Zepharali requested, knowing they had little time to spare.
“A dark shadow has come to the Land of Three Suns.” The seer’s eyes flashed from yellow to hazy gray, then back. “More will follow in pursuit, far more damned than the first.”
Zepharali’s heart sank as he gazed across his land and oceans full of a plethora of harbored species he allowed refuge and swore to protect.
His seer and oracle had never been wrong, as their visions were given by the oracular gods of Delphic. It was why his legion was unstoppable and undefeated.
“What say you, Great Oracle Ginevra?”
Her head was tilted to one side as if someone or something spoke in her ear. She inched forward with her gnarled hands tucked into the sleeves of her white robe.
“An evil you have never encountered will come with an army so dark and vast that it will shade your suns.”
An invisible fist slammed into Zepharali’s gut when he looked back at his eldest daughters.
He wouldn’t be the first titan with a cursed realm or one that had to be hard-fought for.
His war brother, Orestes, the Titan of the West, now named Adres, had been defeated in his efforts to protect his Land of Spring and had fled with his people to the Earth Realm to save his and their lives from a coven of ancient witches.
Even Boraleashe’s Arctic World had been cursed by the Moon God for almost a century and stricken with strife and starvation before it was conquered.
A threat to a titan of an element was uncommon but not impossible.
“Thank you for addressing us so quickly. We will heed to your visions, great mothers.”
The elders nodded again, then moved out of their way for their division to continue its trek.