Page 157 of Season Warriors & Wolves

“Option B. Most certainly option B.”

“Fantastic choice,” he said, smacking my thighs.

I stood right at the edge of Highwall with Visha, Mal and Oryn by my side.

“What are the chances that father thinks I would do this at this moment?”

Mal leaned against a wall. “Not entirely low.”

“But low.”

I looked over at Visha who had kept an unblinking gaze on the veil surrounding the city of Kirkwall below. Her aunt was at the strongest a Dark Crafter could be. Daughter. Sister. Mother. She’d completed the cycle of her blessing. While Visha was destined to become Grand Maiden, the child of the most powerful Dark Crafter to exist and the most knowledgeable of her sort, she was still hovering around the edges of her magic which she had sworn to leave untouched when she surrendered her fate—when she gave up on her written path in exchange for the one she was trying to write for herself.

“You fear her.”

A portal cracked open before us, framing the city of Venzor, and she turned to face me, her expression harder than usual. “It would be smart to fear her.”

“Fear me more.”

Her head snapped back and green eyes glowed red while she mumbled a string of words that caused Melanthe’s veil to falter around the edges of the sea city. “Mal’s magic will draw the beasts, but you don’t have too much time.”

Lightning hit overhead, and in the snap of a second, I stood atop the tallest tower in Venzor, overlooking the second biggest city in the kingdom. Mal hovering just on the street below.

It didn’t take a blink of a moment for gasps and shouts to pull a crowd of people beneath me, Mal disappearing between them. And then the faintest shiver tingled my neck—the stink of dark craft and godly magic made my eyes water.

I unsheathed my new daggers that glowed a bright glittering white, channelling magic onto the steel.

A howl and then some sort of a mangled growl blared like a warning siren in the air before the large body of a green beast jumped right in front of my face. I’d escaped its claws by the fraction before another one crowded me from behind, aiming for me again.

I bolted just right behind it and threw my dagger right in its skull. The thing turned to dust and vanished in the northern wind.

People ran all around me when beasts poured in the hundreds from the tall buildings surrounding the city, not caring about the people being stomped, crowded and crushed against one another. Not caring to avoid hurting them while aiming to hurt me. Just what I wanted them to do. Show Isjordians my father’s intentions.

I bolted again before claws could reach me. Only to be caught by another pair just as I landed on top of a building. The beast’s strength made me stagger forward and almost greet the ground with my face. I bolted again. Fighting hundreds of beasts was not my aim. But the moment I landed, another pair of claws were aiming for my throat.

Hells.

They were hungrier than ever before.

Bolting again, I landed right on a ship deck that had docked on the Venzorian port. It took them longer to find me, but yet not long enough.

Again and again, I bolted from spot to spot till I'd gathered the attention of every soldier, beast, Crafter and had every bow, sword and spear directed at me.

Wind began beating harsher against me and then amongst the ruckus of the fight, a low growl slipped in. Then fire burned tall and wide, over dozens, hundreds of ships that had docked my father’s port. Jayre disappeared between skies faster than he’d appeared.

Amidst that disarray, the beasts had stopped, sniffing the air and running away opposite from me. Somewhere Mal was luring them to.

A portal opened mid-air, and I jumped in it, standing right at the centre square of Tenebrose, leaving chaos sort itself in Venzor. In a breath, the seal concealing my magic snapped in place—completely. Closing in every bit of magic I possessed, the scent of my power disappearing from the air entirely like I’d done so many times.

One, a dozen, and then eventually a crowd formed in the city square. Whispers of surprise ghosted around me. Awe, horror, fascination and…hope was written in their faces before they all bowed.

They began to bow, but I spoke over their respect, “I am not your heir, no need to bow.”

They all lifted their heads again, this time confusion dawning upon their reaction. “Never have been. Never will be. My blood might be Krigborn, but my place and palace reside among skies. The cold hurts me, it bothers me, it haunts me in my worst nightmares. It will soon haunt you all too if my father continues standing upon his throne, if this land keeps feeding him respect, loyalty and your youngling to his armies that will soon march to war with the realm. You must know of the war. This war might be the last for many. For all perhaps. Your king has summoned a divine weapon, the Octa Virga, the same weapon King of Seraphim summoned to climb heavens and ended up ruining his land.”

A wave of gasps made me stop for a breath before continuing. “He used me to collect the sceptre that binds a guardian of Ithicea. He used many of your children, brothers, sisters, fathers and mothers too, sacrificing them to get to this weapon. The weapon he will use to turn the realm to ash in order for him to reign over it—as your new god,” I said, stepping forward. “I know that you do not desire this. I know many of you desire peace. The bravest thing I have done in my life was hope. Hope that I would be free from my father, from his greed, from his control. I wish that you are all brave enough to hope too. To hope for peace. For a future that might not come if my father does this.” Reaching onto my pocket, I grabbed the little flower that had not died for weeks after it had bloomed and handed it to a girl. For the first time, I hoped that the flower grown because of me would not turn into a curse. “He held me in chains you have not seen for far too long. He has been holding all of you in chains you cannot see for far too long. He’s held winter as his prisoner too. With the false pretence of being his servant. But winter is no one’s servant. It is no one’s enemy. Why have you all let it become yours? Do not join him in destroying this realm. Do not let him ruin the home of many. If you do, I will not forgive. Whoever marches with my father in his war will burn under my storm, bury under my wrath. There will be no mercy to give once I see who spares no mercy to the realm!”

They all looked overhead, gasping at the sight of Jayre leaping through clouds and disappearing, thunder crowding overhead at my command.