I left my room in the royal quarters and journeyed through the Palace of the Arcanea. The castle was forged out of white stone. Elaborate portraits of the former Kings of the Arcanea and their queens were placed all over the walls, next to statues of armor decorated with elaborate white wings— the traditional suits of the warring Arcanea. Monster pelts and mounted heads of evil creatures hung beside banners that displayed the golden Arcanea coat-of-arms on every wall— four sections each, showing a wolven, griffin, alicorn and draken in symbolic unity, displayed against a royal purple background.
Guards decked in silver armor saluted as I walked by, and I nodded to them, though secretly I tired of this special treatment. I couldn’t wait to get back to Arcanea University, where law dictated I be treated as a regular student. I would never betrulynormal, obviously, but the setting would be far less formal than it was here.
The guards had to shout to open the gates as I wandered past the courtyard and into the dark forest beyond. From here, I could hear the beating of leather drums and pagan wails from afar, signifying the royal council meeting was about to begin.
I shifted into wolven form and ran toward the sound, clothes becoming fur once more. My prosthetic leg vanished. Anything material that Companions wore or carried, like jewelry, wallets, or other things, was changed by their magic and became a part of their spirit, waiting to be used again once the shifter form was done with. My prosthetic would reappear when I became human again. My paws made heavy beats in the ground as they ran in time to the music that was growing closer and closer.
As I ran, I pondered what I was going to say to them. I needed to make my intent clear, but no explanation seemed good enough. I supposed I’d have to wing it.
I smelled the burning of torches as I came close. The King’s Circle was the official royal court of the Arcanea. Every Faction— the wolvens, the griffins, the dragons, and the alicorns— elected two officials each to serve on the council, along with their mates. The males were given the title of Lord, and the females the title of Lady. I’d have to show all of them I still deserved a chance— but at least I had one ally.
I came to a halt and shifted back into my human form when I saw a battalion of guards standing alert in a circle around a closed-off section of the woods. A man stood amongst the darkness, waiting for me.
Lord Lucien’s brown hair was long and fell around his shoulders. He was in his fifties, and had a rugged and trim face that was slightly scarred, as he had seen a lot of battles with monsters. His form was lithe and muscular.
I knew many women were in love with him, and the men respected him. He was smart and clever in a way most people could only wish for. He was one of the best warriors the Arcanea had and the most popular teacher at Arcanea University. I felt honored he’d spent his time over the summer mentoring me when I certainly knew he had more important things to do.
He was a wolven, like me. For some reason, he still wanted me on the throne. And he’d committed himself to it.
Lord Lucien shook my hand as I came near. “Ethan. I’m glad you decided to come.”
“There was no decision about it.” I kept my tone clear. “It’s the least I can do, to repay you for what you’ve done.”
Lord Lucien was the only one who’d made sure I still stood a fighting chance at winning the Contest. He’d re-taught me how to hunt and fight with a prosthetic as a man, and using only three legs as a wolven. We’d trained every day, from sun-up to sunset, until I was exhausted and could stand no more.
During those first few weeks, I wanted to give up. I was angry. I didn’t want to fight anymore. But Lucien wouldn’t let me. He forced me to keep going until I collapsed, allowing me to rest for a while before demanding I get back up again. As a result, I became better than I ever was before— stronger, even, than I had been with both of my legs.
The relentless training kept my mind off of what had happened. I was too busy learning how to fight again to wallow in endless grief. I thought I’d lost everything, but Lucien gave me a purpose— to win the King’s Contest at all costs.
If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be here. Most likely would’ve taken my own life out of shame and guilt. That man made sure I retained a fighting chance.
I was a more powerful warrior than I ever had been. Now all I needed to do was prove it to the Circle.
“Don’t thank me. I’ve done nothing worthy of repayment,” Lord Lucien said. “I merely did my duty to the crown.”
Lord Lucien clapped a hand on my back and guided me toward the guards. “Now let’s hope you can pull this off.”
The guards remained stiff as we came near, their hands on their axes. Their eyes were weary as we approached.
“The Prince of the Arcanea wishes to speak with the King’s Circle,” Lord Lucien announced to them. “He uses his birthright to demand you let him pass.”
The guards glanced at each other, as if unsure what to do, before they meekly stepped aside. I wondered if someone in the Circle had told them not to let me in. I would remedy that.
As we entered, both Lucien and I changed. He became a large brown wolven with giant wings and yellow eyes as we moved forward.
The trees parted, creating a circular area that was surrounded by blazing torches. In the middle of the space was a large flat cauldron, hanging from three chains and suspended over a bonfire. In the cauldron burned a variety of herbs and incense, making the area smell sweet.
The Sacred Gathering. It was named so because it was a place of power. Magical energy was drawn from there. Our ancestors had used it for thousands of years prior to perform spells and healings. Miracles and wonders had been performed at the Gathering, but it had been many years since the site had deemed anyone worthy enough to use it. The Gathering was a living, breathing soul, and it determined who its power went to depending on the plea of whoever came to use it.
Not just anyone was allowed into the Sacred Gathering. You had to be a member of the Circle… or of the royal family. It was a concern that an untrustworthy soul could use the power of the Gathering for unholy purposes and their own personal gain, convincing the spirits that lived in the earth there to work for evil instead of good. As such, the Gathering was only allowed to be visited by members of the hierarchy, for meetings only, and never alone. It was protected at all times, our most precious law. Penalty for a peasant wandering into the Gathering was death.
Members of the Circle were spread out in an oval around the Gathering, each of them with their mates. The drums and chanting grew silent as I approached. On the silver throne directly across from me sat the current leader of the Arcanea.
Now that my father was gone, a steward had taken his place. Bartok Solomon had been a hurried replacement by my father after the last Steward had unfortunately died, and his position was supposed to be temporary. He’d only been chosen to become the Steward a few months ago, and only then because there were few willing to take his place. Offspring of the Steward could never compete in the King’s Contest for up to three generations, as it was supposed that such temptation would make the Steward disloyal to the king and partake in assassination attempts, to get their own children that much closer to the throne.
Steward Solomon had no children, so he’d been an easy option. But he was never meant to be permanent. Steward Solomon would run things until the King’s Contest was over and a new monarch had been chosen. He was part of the griffin Faction, and as far as I knew, had a good heart.
I almost felt sorry for him, being shoved into this. He was close to retirement and had taken up the position as a favor. Never had he imagined that he’d have to hold the throne temporarily.
