Night of the Storm: An Epic Fantasy Novel (The Eura Chronicles Book 2) (5 page)

“COME ON WILEM
,” Queen Alania said softly, her jeweled bracelets sliding down her pale white arm as she knelt before her youngest son.

The royal family of Raeden stood at the landing of the palace’s grand staircase, preparing to leave for the gladiator matches.

Wilem shook his head and folded his arms across his chest in defiance. “No!”

She reached for him, her smile breaking down his defenses. “Come on, sweetheart. You know that you are too young to go to the Festival of Lights. Now, be a good boy and give mama a hug.”

Wilem looked around at his older brother, Torian as he snickered.

“Come now, Wilem. Listen to mum and go find one of your friends to play with,” Daveed, the next in line for the throne, said.

Wilem glared at him. Why couldn’t he be older, like Daveed, and do whatever he wanted?

They were about to leave for the gladiator tournament at the Festival of Lights, and Wilem was too young to go. Wilem knew his mother didn’t want him to see such barbarity and blood. But, he was tired of being treated like a child.

“Oh, the little baby has to stay home and play with his toys.” Torian teased.

“That’s enough,” Daveed said. He looked at their mother. “Father is waiting. We must go before we are late.”

Queen Alania nodded. Dressed in ivory and gold, she walked over to her youngest son. A golden circlet rested upon her wavy brown hair as she knelt to him.

“Be good, Wilem. I will sing you a song when we return.”

“No,” Wilem hissed. “I want to go!”

She shook her head. “Maybe next year.” She reached out for Wilem with an arm covered in gold bracelets, and he shrugged away. Queen Alania sighed and watched him with disappointment furrowing her blonde eyebrows.

“I love you, Wilem.”

Torian mocked Wilem behind their mother’s back, pretending to cry like a baby.

“I hate you. All of you!”

Wilem awoke with tears streaming down his face. “Mama! Mama!” he sobbed. It was the same dream every night since the palace had been ambushed and his entire family had been killed.

That was nearly a year ago, and the pain that filled his gut was unbearable. It poisoned him, reminding him of how ungrateful and spoiled he’d once been.

“I love you, Mama,” he whispered into the darkness.

There was no reply. The silence that haunted him turned his stomach sour.

“Please come back,” Wilem pleaded through tears. “I promise to be good.”

That had been the last time he had seen her beautiful face. She had looked so sad at hearing him say those hateful words. The Shadow Elves had come just hours after, and while Wilem played with Jorge in the cellars, his entire family had been massacred. He couldn’t stand the guilt.

Wilem missed them dearly. Even Torian.

He sat up in his tiny room in one of the fairy tree houses shook. A shrill creaking sound broke out and the entire room tilted until Wilem rolled off the bed.

Wilem crashed to the bamboo floor with a thud as another loud explosion came from outside. Screams followed, and he scrambled to his feet. He fell over once again as the room tilted to the other side.

Wilem crawled to the door in the floor and opened it. He strained to make out anything below. He shoved his feet into his boots, prepared to take off running into the jungle.

Fog filled the Tolrinian fairy compound. As he stepped down onto the ladder go his room built into the tree of his room, the screams grew. He hopped down the last few steps and turned to see chaos.

Wilem watched the fog thicken over the colony. He heard the commotion all around and felt his pulse start to race.

He stood frozen.

Not again. This cannot be happening again.

Wilem shook as memories of his family’s murder flooded over him. His eyes darted to the fairies as they flew past him, nearly knocking him to the dirt with their speed. The stars in the sky seemed to have vanished, and the fog was so thick that soon he felt as if he was alone.

“No,”

Shadow Elves ran through the village. His eyes narrowed at their blood-red armor. They were different from the elves that had swarmed his kingdom. This particular group reminded Wilem of the elves that had searched his palace, seeking out the royal family.

He backed away from the chaos, desperate for a place to hide. Where were the hidden tunnels of his palace when he needed them?

“Wilem!”

As if in a daze, Wilem swayed with the wind and watched a fairy fly past his face.

His eyes followed her. Her glittering wings caught his attention. When an arrow shot through her little body, her shrill scream gave him a start. The splash of her warm blood onto his face ripped Wilem from his daze.

Wilem’s mouth fell open as he wiped the blood out of his eyes with trembling fingers.

“Help me, Wilem!”

Jorge?

Wilem turned around to see a Shadow Elf dragging his best friend through the dirt by his hair.

Jorge reached out for Wilem as the elf covered his screams with a gray hand.

Without a second thought, Wilem ran after Jorge like the wind. His legs were young, but they were fast.

The day Liam had found him in the palace cellar and rescued him, Wilem had taken a dagger to defend himself. He reached inside his boot as he ran and clutched that same dagger’s hilt into his little palm.

The dagger’s blade glowed green with Wilem’s Tryan power of Enchantment. Heat radiated from the sharp blade and cut through the fog.

Wilem was the last of his family. The last of the Alden clan. The power of his ancestors had passed down to him the day his line was wiped out.

Such power intoxicated him.

As he jumped into the air, his feet sprung from the ground with such ferocity that he nearly flew into the Shadow Elf.

Wilem was fearless at that moment, driven by the need to protect his friend. The Shadow Elf glanced over his shoulder at the final moment.

Wilem landed on his back, stabbing him in the side of his neck. The three of them crashed to the dirt, almost at the end of the colony, where the dark forest met the beauty of the silver gates of Tolrinia.

Together, Wilem and Jorge came to their feet.

They stared at the body as the sounds of terror surrounded them. The fairies that had shown such love and generosity to them were being killed.

Wilem wasn’t prepared for this new life of fear. He’d seen too much death already. From the amount of blood and carnage that surrounded them, it looked as though he and Jorge were in for much more.

VARS TOOK HOLD OF JORGE
, effortlessly flinging him into the air.

“We must hurry to meet the other survivors. Come, Prince Wilem.” Ved reached for Wilem’s hand.

Wilem was all too eager to grab hold. Ved flew him high into the black sky.

From that height, Wilem strained to see through the thick fog. All he could see was smoke and shadows. He watched the fire that ate away at the fairy compound. Out of the mists came a Shadow Elf, riding what looked like a small black dragon that closely resembled a flying lizard.

A wyvern
, Wilem thought as his eyes widened.

Ved looked down to see the threat and cursed under his breath. Wilem’s heart started to pound again. What could the fairy do against one of those Shadow Elves, especially since he was carrying Wilem in his arms?

Ved surprised Wilem. He clutched Wilem tightly with one arm and drew his sword.

Wilem shrieked when Ved took off toward the Shadow Elf with such speed that the wind pounded at Wilem’s face. He wanted to squeeze his eyes closed, but his intense desire to see what Ved planned to do kept them open.

Wilem looked on curiously. The Shadow Elf didn’t have a glowing dagger like the ones he’d seen many times before. He held onto the reins of the wyvern with one hand and reached onto his belt to grab a small, round sphere.

Ved slowed down, intrigued by the object the elf held out before him.

The Shadow Elf grinned at him, leaving Wilem unsettled. Then, he released the sphere, and a bright light was released from within.

Through the fog, the elf disappeared. Ved paused, twirling around as he searched for the elf.

A silver rope wrapped around Ved’s neck and yanked him through the sky. Wilem slipped from his grasp and held his breath. Terror filled his eyes as he fell down, into the fog.

He screamed.

“Wilem!” Jorge and Vars shouted in unison.

Wilem cut through the fog and started to scream since he could see the ground coming closer.

“VLETA!” Wilem grabbed the talisman that hung from his neck and squeezed his eyes shut.

The metal heated. A bright light filled the entire sky, and his descent came to a stop. He felt something sleek beneath him. Something massive.

“Master,” Vleta, his dragon said. She soared through the air. An ancient power had been summoned: a frightfully large black and gold dragon, the secret weapon of the Tryans.

Wilem sighed with relief and held onto Vleta’s thick-scaled neck.

Ved’s sword fell past Wilem’s face. Wilem gasped and grabbed it. He had an idea, but no time to waste. He held the sword in his hands and called the power of Creation.

He didn’t know what he was making exactly. But out of desperation, he turned the sword into light that made their surroundings glow.

Wilem grimaced, feeling something jerk around inside him. Then, his eyes widened, and he shrieked when the bright sword carried him and Vleta higher.

Wilem looked down at the ground as it grew farther and farther away in shock. He cut through clouds and soared upward like a bird.

“What is going on?” he asked Vleta.

Vleta seemed unsurprised as the power of the sword catapulted them higher into the night sky. She spoke clearly, calmly. “You are a Legacy, Master. You now have every ability your clan once had. Every power. Every trait. All is yours.”

With a dull clicking sound, the elf reappeared from the sphere. The bright light was so intense that it made Wilem wince.

Wilem covered his eyes and peered through his fingers to see the elf grab Ved by the neck with one arm and reach for his dagger with the other. Wilem swung the glowing sword at the elf and sliced through his arm. Wilem gasped, and the elf shouted out in pain.

Ved slipped free.

The elf’s arm bled, hacked completely through with one blow. Ved flew behind and took the chance to stab him in the back with his sword. A loud screech erupted from the elf’s mouth before his dying body was carried away by its wyvern, down into the darkness and clouds.

“Are you all right?”

Ved nodded quickly as he stared at Vleta with uncertainty.

“And you, Wilem?”

“I’m cold!”

The fairy turned blue but didn’t seem to mind the cold of their high elevation. Wilem, on the other hand, felt so cold that he wanted to simply close his eyes and sleep. He rested his head against Vleta’s warm neck.

“Don’t worry, you will be warm again soon. Just hold onto the dragon and don’t let go.”

The air grew warmer when Vleta flew a little lower and Wilem was much more comfortable. His heart still pounded with adrenaline, and he was sure that was why he’d survived the intense cold above the clouds.

Wilem had killed one Shadow Elf, rescued his best friend and saved a fairy warrior. What he had done with Ved’s sword still vexed him. Never had he been able to do such things. His father could Create better than anyone, and make things catapult him into the air. Maybe he inherited that skill.

Legacy.

That word finally meant something.

“Where are we going?” What does it matter? Wilem thought. No place is safe. His hands began to thaw, his fingers stiff like ice.

“We need to get you and Jorge to Alfheim. Queen Aria will be there waiting for you.”

Wilem’s nose scrunched up. “Who is Queen Aria?”

“Prince Liam’s mother.”

Wilem’s face softened. He missed Liam. He’d never felt as safe as he did when Liam was around. Maybe Liam’s mother could make him feel the same, but he was afraid to get his hopes up.

“What’s happening down there?” Wilem hoped that Lady Evee was safe.

She was always so nice to him all of the time. She always made sure he and Jorge had enough food to eat, and that the fairy boys would include them in games. He would hate to see anything bad happen to the fairy queen.

“Kyril is falling apart. This is no longer our home.”

Wilem sighed. His hair blew in his face, and he squeezed his eyes shut to keep the strands out. “Home is a word that means nothing to me anymore.”

“Do not worry. We will protect you and Jorge, Prince Wilem.”

“I wish everyone would stop calling me that.” Wilem scrunched up his face in distaste. “I am not a prince anymore.”

“As you wish,” Ved said without question.

“Thank you.” Wilem flew closer to Ved. “What is Eura like?”

Ved shook his head. “I do not know. But we shall know in a matter of hours.”

“Really? It’s that close?”

“Yes, The Barrier is just over the sea. We can be there by tomorrow evening. Can you handle flying that long?”

“I can.” Wilem closed his eyes and wished that Alfheim would be a better place and that Liam would find him again someday.