Ascension (55 page)

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Authors: Hannah Youngwirth

Tags: #Romance, #Adventure, #ascension, #Middle Ages, #hannah, #distopia, #ahrenia, #cethin, #croxley, #fara

BOOK: Ascension
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Ah, so the
Prince finally decides to show his face,

the King said, his eyes directed with deadly precision
towards his son.


Father, at least
consider this. We need to think about a future with the
Nethers.


We need? How do
you know what we need? Since when have you tried to lead the
nation? You are not a King. I wouldn

t even venture as far to call
you a Prince.


I

m doing more for our nation that
you ever have. I

m trying to fix everything that was broken so many years
ago. It

s time
for a change,

Erik urged, motioning his
arm over the battlefield, indicating the carnage that had been
shed. I was following his sweep with my eyes when I caught sight of
an archer taking aim. I traced his line of sight and before his
target registered in my mind, I was being pushed to the
ground.


Fara, watch
out!

Erik tackled me to down. I heard
him grunt when we hit the floor, and I pulled myself up off of him,
thinking it was my body weight that had caused him to continue
moaning. It wasn

t until I had pushed myself up when I saw the arrow
protruding from his shoulder.

I gasped and
tried to move him onto his side so he wasn

t laying on top of it, but a
soldier ripped me away from him.


No! Erik! Let go
of me!

I screamed as I fought against
their grip, but it was no use. I was forced to watch him bleed from
the sidelines as his father walked up to him, swinging a sword in
his hand.


She calls you
Erik? You allow such scum to call you by your first name?

The King frowned as he stood over his
son.

I was right. You no longer deserve
to be called a Prince. What you

ve become now is no more than a
public enemy. And as a King, I have to protect my people.

He held his sword above the Prince, who was
writhing in pain. I saw red spread from his shoulder blade,
tendrils of blood spreading through the fabric of his shirt. Every
moan that escaped through his lips sent a wave of pain through my
body, and I was completely suspended by the guards who had me in
their grip, my legs no longer able to hold my body
up.

I watched in
horror as the King dangled his sword over Erik

s throat, Erik

s fate dependent on the few
inches between his neck and the blade. Its swinging became wider
until it was a full arch, ending with its point directed straight
at me. I felt my mouth go dry as I looked down the breadth of the
sword to the King

s hand, up his thick arm, and into his dangerous eyes. In
them I saw so much hatred that I felt my stomach
squirm.


And yet, I would
hate to waste all that time I spent raising you into a Prince,
Erik. I think you, girl,

he said,
jabbing the sword towards me, laughing when I flinched away,

should be the one to pay for this. Maybe Erik
would learn his lesson if he had to suffer the consequences of
forgetting where he came from.

I felt the guards
shift my position so that I was on my knees, my neck bared to the
King

s sword.
But I was detached from my body, seemingly watching myself as the
King ran his sword under the numbers on the back of my neck, 923,
creating an underline of blood that trickled down my spine. I
watched as Erik struggled to pull himself up, gripping his shoulder
in agony every time he put weight on it. I could see him trembling,
and yet I felt strong and steady. I looked over the field and saw
from end to end the exhausted fighters of both sides, leaning
against their weapons, the points stuck in the ground, Nethers and
Ahrenians alike no longer wanting to fight.

I was pulled back
into myself at the vibrations of a loud clack through the air. The
King

s sword
fell to the ground, and I could make out from my position the end
of a thick staff. I rolled myself out from the
guard

s grip,
which had gone slack from shock. I found my father pinning the King
to the ground with his staff.


Faradene, get
back,

he demanded over his shoulder. The
King rolled himself up, standing in front of my father and pulling
a smaller knife from his belt. They circled each other, taking
small steps, their eyes locked. I strayed my eyes from them just
long enough to reach Erik, who had finally fainted from the pain.
His forehead was glistening with sweat, and I saw that he had
broken the shaft trying to reach me. I just kept brushing through
his hair with my fingers, anxiously monitoring him while at the
same time keeping watch on my father and the King in their deadly
dance. The lives of two of the most important people to me were
both suspended, and it was all I could do to hold the wave of
anxiety back.

Suddenly, the
King lunged at my father, who just barely was able to block the
knife with his staff, thrusting the King away. He only had time to
deflect all the quick, angry attacks the King was throwing his
direction. Another few attacks and the King made contact with my
father, his knife tearing deep across my father

s chest.

Seeing his blood
broke the wall I had built in my mind, and a scream ripped through
my throat. There were no words, just a drawn out wail that filled
with fear, pain, and sorrow. My father looked back at me in shock,
and I watched his demeanor shift. He started to advance on the
King, sending out attacks with his staff, which had a stronger
reach than the King

s knife. Though the staff noticeably wore the King out, it
didn

t draw
blood in the same way his knife did, and my father was rapidly
losing strength. He dodged a thrust by the King, but in stepping
back, lost his balance and fell.

I rose from my crouched position,
the stress of the fight filling me with nervous energy. My father
got back on his feet just in time to avoid another strike from the
King, but he was breathing much harder than his component, who had
obviously been battle trained. Although my father may have been
stronger, the King had more technique, with which he was winning
the upper hand.

My father fell a
second time, and remained kneeling, attempting to catch his breath.
My heart stopped as I watched the King close in. I frantically
searched around for an answer, for some way to help, when I saw the
sword the King had dropped. I picked it up, my vision focused on my
father while everything else was clouded out. With all of my
strength, I ran to where my father was kneeling and, standing in
front of him, I held the sword in front of me. I closed my eyes as
the King lunged, and felt myself fall into my father as the
King

s weight
pushed against me. After a few moments of stillness, I opened my
eyes to find that my hands were nearly touching the
King

s stomach,
the sword having gone all the way through and coming out of his
back. I dropped the sword and watched as the King slumped forward,
falling face-down beside me. I couldn

t take my eyes off his body, the
sword having been driven deeper into him by his fall, blood running
down the sides. I was only slightly aware of my father as he reach
around me, shielding me from the scene.


It

s alright Faradene,
it

s over.
It
’s done.

I
let him wrap his arms around me, closing off the rest of the world
like he did when I was a child.
“It
’s
done. It’s done.

 

Epilogue


I think it looks
nice, don

t
you?

Erik and I were standing in front
of a small tree I had just planted in the garden. It was the one I
had brought with me from Cethin nearly a year ago, having continued
to grow in the windowsill of my room even after I left. Lydia told
me that she had watered it every night, hoping that some of her
love and care would reach me and help me stay strong no matter
where I was. I can

t help but think that it did.

It

s been two months since the
rebellion. After the King died, no one on either side knew how to
react, and the fighting ceased. Soldiers from the
King

s army,
along with some of the Nethers, helped us carry Erik back to the
camp. We were informed that the King

s general had been seen leaving
on horseback with a few of the other higher-ranked men not far
behind, leaving the soldiers to fend for themselves. We sent some
Nethers to their camp to help heal their wounded, and they likewise
sent some supplies our way.

By the next morning, we had all
moved into the castle, rooms having been deserted overnight when
the nobles heard that the King had been killed. Some fled out of
fear of being punished for their relationship with the King, while
others simply left, sickened at the thought of sharing a home with
us Nethers.

Those who
remained were genuinely interested in learning more about us and
how we had survived so long underground. But our answers
weren

t as
interesting as they had hoped. When one man asked my father if we
ate giant cave worms, my father sprayed the ale he had been
drinking across the room and exclaimed,

Are you joking? What in the bloody devil is a giant cave
worm?

I spent most of
the first week with Erik in the healing room. Although we were able
to take the remainder of the arrow out immediately after he made it
back to camp, it had none-the-less been in there for too long and
he grew fevered and sick, drifting in and out of consciousness for
the whole week. I made sure that I was there every time he woke,
even if it was only to see him blink his eyes in confusion, mutter
a nonsense sentence, and slip back into unconsciousness. My mother
and father tried to get me to retire from my post and get good
rest, but I refused to leave Erik

s side, so instead they would
bring me meals. Some nights, I would fall asleep sitting next to
him, and would wake to see Croxley sleeping in the chair across
from me, on the other side of Erik

s bed.

We were both in shambles until one
morning, Erik woke up and looked around the room, actually seeing
what was in it rather than whatever delusion his mind had supplied
before.


What smells so
bad in here,

he asked, his voice raspy
from disuse. He looked back and forth between Croxley and I before
surmising,

Wow, you guys look like hell.
You could really use a bath.

I sprang from my chair and nearly
jumped into his bed, tears streaming down my face as I wrapped my
arms around his neck.


Ouch! Wounded
Prince, over here!

Erik cringed as I
landed right on his shoulder.


Sorry, sorry,”
I
said, gently easing myself around it.


Erik, did you
really have to go and nearly get yourself killed?

Croxley asked, standing from his chair and
looking over Erik. Erik just grinned and replied,


It was all part
of the plan. You know I have a flair for the dramatic. Besides, I
knew my father

s archers were never good shots.

Croxley laughed and patted Erik

s shoulder good-naturedly,
receiving another groan of pain.

Really,
guys, if you don

t stop hurting me, I

m going to have to send you out
of my room.

Croxley and I
were eventually able to reign ourselves in, quelling our
excitement, and managed to catch Erik up on what had happened since
the battle. Erik had fainted before my father had entered the
fight, so we had to fill him in on everything that happened
in-between, including his father

s death. I watched his face as
it sunk in, and I knew that internally he was fighting between the
victory of the people and the loss of his father. Understandably,
he asked us for some alone time, during which I went to wash myself
and raid the kitchen. Now that I wasn

t so worried about Erik, I found
that I was ravenous, as well as extremely tired. After practically
gorging myself, I went to my parent

s room and fell
asleep.

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