My heart knew it was a flimsy hope.
“Good.” The prince raised his fist, alyr-stone catching the sunlight in a flash of bright fire, another sign of his noble heritage alongside his finely wrought armor inlaid with the golden tree. Powerful battle stones like this were often passed down through generations in mortal families, allowing them to see and command the magic of creation. “We have to head for Azerai,” he said. “The gates of the Dwarfish city will offer us protection. Within its walls, a sapling of Yggdrasil continues to bloom, holding the forces of Chaos at bay.”
One of the last ones, its power waning with every passing day. Azerai was more than a day’s ride ahead, even on swift Elvish horses, but I nodded in agreement, my focus diverted by another attack. I was used to maintaining a shield while moving on horseback.
Not paying attention to Prince Leander barking out orders, I opened the buckle keeping Starfire, my bladed staff, fastened to the saddle. Perhaps I should investigate the full extent of the danger we faced. One of the Destroyer’s lieutenants, or a troop of Rakash and Trolls, would be no match for me. But if I shifted up the cliffs, and the Fallen One himself awaited me—
I reached anew for my Light, channeling even more power than before. Thelyr-stone embedded in Starfire’s hilt blazed like a falling star.
My probing tendrils were rebuked so violently, I couldn’t help but gasp. An unconscious tug on the reins made my horse rear up. I knew the touch of that magic, knew it as intimately as my own. Darkness flooded the air in an overwhelming wave, relentlessly batteringagainst my shield. It held, but barely. Starfire’s light dimmed. With every volley of arrows and fresh surge of magic, the faint edges of the shield flickered ominously.
Dark silhouettes moved along the cliffs. Their swift, catlike motions and bellowing war cries revealed it was a horde of Rakash attacking us. Not that I paid them any mind. All my attention was captured by the imposing figure that had appeared directly above me.
He was clad in black dragon-scale armor that absorbed all light, his face hidden beneath the terrifying helmet he always wore in battle, adorned with a crown of black iron. Alyr-stone pulsed malevolently at its center.
I could sense his vicious glee as he raised his hand. A dark flame, brimming with the force of pure Chaos, surged to life around him, amethyst and emerald fire flickering over his armor. The magic slammed into my shield, shattering it with a reverberating shockwave. Blinding agony pulsed through my head, tearing a broken scream from my throat. The cry echoed through the air as I was violently thrown from my horse, Starfire wrenched from my grasp. My white-golden cuirass did nothing to soften the impact as I hit the ground hard.
For a long moment, I stared up at the once blue sky, now darkened by towering storm clouds. Pain radiated through my limbs as I struggled to sit up.
Chaos reigned around me, unchallenged. The sounds of arrows whistling, the eerie crackling of dark magic, and the anguished cries of the dying created a terrible symphony.
And still, my eyes found him.
“Looking for these, little queen?” The Fallen One’s voice dripped with condescending amusement, not even dimmed by the distortions of his helmet. The light refracted off the half-dozen unhallowedlyr-stones in his grasp, a myriad of multicolored shards. “I assure you, I will put them to good use.”
The Flame within me roared to life in response to his challenge, thrashing and snarling against my desperate hold on its power. I knew exactly how glorious it would feel to unleash it, to let it spill forth in a blazing wave that obliterated everything in its path.
For a moment. Until I lost control.
A ragged breath fell from my lips as I fought my own instincts. I could not dare to use the Flame to destroy, not after what had happened all the other times I had succumbed to the temptation to let it rage free. Not even to save myself.
The imposing dark helmet tilted, as if its wearer sensed my inner turmoil.
“Still so afraid,” he said, an odd disappointment creeping into his tone.
A lazy wave of his hand sent another blast of Chaos magic down upon us, impaling everyone left standing. Only Prince Leander and a lone soldier beside me remained, the soldier’s youthful face deathly pale as his comrades fell around him.
“No!” I screamed, crumbling to the ground.
The Fallen One’s parting words struck me like a burning arrow, fletched with the intent to wound me where it hurt the most: “Tell my brother he at least succeeded in teaching me a little mercy.”
Then he was gone, leaving me alone with the silence, only interrupted by the occasional panicked whinny of a horse.
My renewed failure left the taste of bitter ashes in my mouth. I might have stayed in that spot forever, on my knees, staring unseeing at the devastation around me, if fine leather boots had not entered my vision.
“How amusing it must be,” Prince Leander said coldly, “for thefate of others to be nothing more than a move in an eternal game one plays.”
I looked up at him, only to recoil at the impotent rage in his blue eyes as they met mine. For someone used to commanding so much power to be reduced to a helpless pawn, his survival no more than the result of another’s whim, must rankle.
“I am sorry for your loss,” I forced out, getting to my feet. “I assure you, your people’s sacrifice will not be in vain. We—”
“Spare me your honeyed words, Lady Baradaz,” Prince Leander interrupted, unclasping his helmet with a few angry gestures. His long golden hair was plastered to his temples by sweat, revealing the elegant slope of his pointed ears. “We both know why the Fallen One was really here, and why he killed my soldiers. And it had nothing to do with a fewlyr-stones.”
No. He had wanted to teach me a lesson.
I offered no comment when the lone surviving soldier brought us our mounts, struck silent by my guilt. The three of us rode toward Azerai with few words spoken between us. I didn’t object when Aramaz banned me from the frontline afterward, knowing perfectly well that I had become a dangerous liability.
I was tormented by that one moment of mercy that was only another form of mocking cruelty. The cruelty of a monster I had once called my lover.
