Dragons of Destiny Page 14

  Some time later, both Aequin and Regius escorted Arius down the wide staircase into the Alcove of Sight. The Alcove of Sight was the ceremonial chambers in which the Seers performed their mysterious art form.

  All the frivolity of the throne room was absent in this place. The only way to describe it was dank. The walls were unadorned, save for wall sconces that held torches and not Everlight Orbs. A slight stench of mildew hung in the humid air.

  When they finally reached the bottom of the stairs, ten narrow platforms towered above them. The pillars, which were spaced perhaps fifteen feet apart from each other, encircled a vast basin that sat directly in the very middle of the room. Straining to see in the gloom, Arius was barely able to make out figures sitting atop each platform. Although he could not see them clearly, Arius knew Maji Seers would perform the ceremony from up there. The cerulean ritualistic robes of their craft draped the columns almost their entire length. The Seers were chanting unintelligibly, and while they trilled, a dense mist began to form above the basin.

  “Here is where you will find your answers,” Aequin Alunna whispered almost reverently.

  “Whatever it is that you seek is for your eyes alone. We will leave you for now,” Regius Sollis whispered as well.

  Arius nodded distractedly, running his hands through his hair. His full attention was on the basin. Bright lights began flashing intermittently in the mist, and he never noticed as the two kings took their leave. Arius walked cautiously towards the fog, delving it with his eyes as if the answers to his questions could be found there already. A resonance that he couldn’t explain radiated from the basin, almost like the static that hung in the air after a lightning strike.

  Abruptly, the flashes within the mist began to frequent one another. Each time a flash illuminated the cloud, a small pulsing sound like a faint heartbeat would follow. The sound, like the light, built like a crescendo, and the Alcove of Sight itself shook. As the room trembled, all the platforms lurched dangerously. Arius closed his eyes tightly, bracing himself as he envisioned the room collapsing in on itself.

  The concussive bedlam and the chanting ceased almost immediately. Arius opened his eyes and saw that the mist had transformed itself into some kind of vaporous orb. Inside the orb, tiny forked lightning chased itself around.

  From atop the platforms, a strong male voice asked him a question. “What is it that you seek, Dragon of Destiny?”

  “Who told you of that name?” Arius demanded harshly.

  A different voice floated down from above. This one was the crisp and fair voice of a Maji female. “We are well versed in all forms of prophecy, especially the Jenukai Prophecy. It is from those texts that you were so named.”

  Arius sighed and tried without much success to moderate his tone.

  “I’m not here to discuss the Jenukai Prophecy. I have questions that revolve around a certain Artifact--”

  “This directly involves the Jenukai Codex,” a different female voice chimed in.

  “Yes, what you seek is central to your fulfillment of the prophecy in your favor,” a willowy voice answered.

  “I’ve read the Codex from cover to cover, and it never mentioned Dragons Fist or Adimus anywhere.” Arius answered in annoyance.

  “No one but Seers and Prophets can truly discern the meanings of the Jenukai Codex…”

  “You are untrained and have no business determining the meaning of prophecy…”

  “It is too complex for you to conceive…”

  “Let only us be your guides henceforth…”

  All of the Maji Seers began speaking on top of one another. They all started scolding him, lecturing him, or beseeching him that the knowledge of prophecy was beyond his ability to comprehend.

  “Enough!” Arius roared. “That’s enough! I did not come here to be belittled or lectured by you. I respect your knowledge, and that is why I have come to you. Will you help me or not?”

  An uncomfortable silence answered him. Finally, after a strained moment, only one simple word came from overhead.

  “Yes.”

  “Excellent. I thank you profusely for your assistance. Now, I seek the God Adimus. In his possession he keeps the powerful Artifact called Dragons Fist. With it, I firmly believe I can match even Lord Rathe’s strength. Can you help me find him?”

  The chanting started up again, and the orb began reacting to the melodic rumblings. Within the orb, indiscernible shapes like shadows and silhouettes were coming into being among the lightning. The forked lightning took on its own shape within the orb. Among the shadows, the light had morphed into the image of an unmistakable ship. Arius recognized that vessel and he smiled. He knew where to find Adimus before the Seers even said the word.

  “The Aernilles will be your guide to the mad god Adimus. Be warned: you must kill him to take what you desire.”

  With that, the smile slid off his face.

  Chapter 14

  Evaline supped alone, which was her nightly routine. She idly pushed her dinner around on her plate with her utensil, not really seeing the exquisite food or her lush surroundings. Sighing inwardly, she tried her best to ignore the crushing loneliness she felt, but couldn’t quite summon the energy to do so. In a morose way, Evaline felt like that aching pain inside her chest was the only thing reminding her that she was actually alive.

  Off to her right, an elderly servant with a scant amount of white hair remaining on his head and wearing a ridiculous amount of livery cleared his throat. It reminded her that she wasn’t entirely alone, so to speak. As per usual, a dozen servants surrounded the grand table she sat at. They all patiently stood awaiting any commands or needs she might have. Such was her life as the princess of Axion. She was always encompassed by retainers and servants, yet she was all alone despite their presence.

  When she had been a little girl, she remembered trying desperately to befriend her stewards. They were all polite enough, she supposed, but every time she attempted to engage any of them in conversation, they would give her a scandalized look, murmur noncommittally, and proceed to stare at the floor. It hadn’t taken her long even at that stubborn age to give that up as a bad try, so for a decade now she was plagued by her silent companions.

  The gusting wind from off the Kurai Ocean was the only sound in the dining quarters that belonged to Evaline alone. They sat at the very top of the Tower of Axion, which stood hundreds of feet tall. From her vantage point at the head of the table, she could clearly see fog rolling along outside of the floor-to-ceiling windows. She knew it wouldn’t be long before the tower would be completely shrouded in mist this night.

  The hour was very late, but Evaline preferred the Tower of Axion during this time. The daily charade that made up her life was finally over until daybreak. Her father, King Jonarus, only paid the slightest bit of attention to her during his hours at court. That’s when the man was in his element. He loved performing the pantomime role of monarchs together.

  Jonarus had never quite grasped that his part in this parody was that of a figurehead king who had been set up by the Circle of Seven. It was a maneuver to simply appease the nobles and to bring Axion into the Seven Cities. Her father was an arrogant man, and his pride would not allow him to view himself as the puppet he really was, so in public they made the pretense of being the perfect royals. He portrayed the role of loving father and powerful leader. Evaline, on the other hand, got to pretend to be an obedient daughter who was properly pristine. They were all lies, of course. Outside of the public eye, her father was indifferent towards her at best.

  Evaline’s mother had left her father when she was just a babe in the cradle. Jonarus had never deemed it important enough to disclose to her the reason why she had stormed out of both of their lives. All Evaline really knew about her mother was that her family had been the High Seat of house Swiftfox, and her mother had been the heir. She had speculated endlessly why her mother and father had separated, but it really didn‘t matter to her anymore. Whatever had happened, the only fa
ct that she knew for a certainty was that her mother wasn’t interested in being her mother.

  Beyond that, Evaline supposed her father had never recovered from being abandoned by his wife. Jonarus constantly reminded Evaline that she looked exactly like her mother in acidic tones that he took no effort to conceal. Sometimes when they were alone, Evaline would catch her father staring disdainfully at her with a look of utter disgust etched on his face. At this time of night, she was free from those looks. She took her comforts where and when she could, and she did take a little bit of peace in that.

  Evaline found herself thinking of her mother at the oddest moments. She constantly wondered where she was and what she was doing .

  Does she think about me?

  Everyone, not just her father, said that they looked nearly identical to one another. From the gossip Evaline had heard in court, it was no secret that her mother had been widely regarded as a great beauty. Grudgingly, Evaline gathered that she must be seen in the same light. Evaline despised being compared to her mother, though. A woman who would shuck her responsibilities and walk out on her family was not the type of woman that Evaline intended to be.

  She was complimented for her allure often enough, but when you were the heir to the Throne of Axion, it was hard to distinguish who was being honest and who was just jockeying for favor. Evaline mistrusted such veneration. She looked into her wine goblet and saw her reflection there. She saw her slightly tilted golden eyes, accented by her long eyelashes, staring back at her. Her full lips were often said to be pouting, which wasn’t the case in truth. She rarely, if ever, pouted. They just happened to look that way naturally.

  Evaline was considered short of average height by just the slimmest of margins, which she didn’t mind. The men who attended court seemed to prefer taller women. That didn’t stop them from swooning over her, though, which annoyed her to no end. They were always commenting on her honey colored hair and her bronze complexion. One of them even went so far as to say her face was heart shaped and that he’d like to navigate her ample curves, whatever that meant. She only knew that she did not share the sentiment. Those golden eyes had a decidedly haunted and melancholy cast to them, she decided to herself bitterly.

  Not that any of those suitors harassing her meant anything. Evaline was betrothed. Her fiancé was a complete stranger nonetheless.

  Just another person who hasn’t the slightest idea of who I am!

  Arius Jadestar was the man that she was contracted to marry. He was the Sovereign General and First Knight of the Gaelarian Alliance, and that meant he was one of the most important people in the world. She remembered meeting him for the first time, and the bile in her throat began to rise at the memory.

  Arius had bowed deeply and kissed her hand charmingly at their introduction, but that had been the end of his bewitchery. From there, he had proceeded to get intoxicated with his friends the rest of the night. He had pointedly ignored Evaline and shamed her beyond measure. She recalled that members of his entourage had actually vomited from too much drink at the festivities! From that point on Evaline had decided that Arius Jadestar was a mitigated buffoon.

  Arius’ family had once been the royal family of Axion, which was why she had a fiancé to begin with. Before the title had been a farce, back when the king of Axion had been an equal even to the High Kings of Petra, Arius had been second in line in the succession. He and his brother’s titles were First and Second Prince of the Sword of Axion.

  That was before Dregan had assassinated his own father, King Leons. From there, prophecy had been ignited and turned the world upside down in the process. Now, Evaline’s father meant to unite the bloodlines. The very thought of it made her feel like nothing more than a breeding mongrel, fit only to be mounted.

  By then, Evaline’s sour thoughts had ruined her appetite. She decided to give up on the food and was on the verge of heading for her bed chambers when the person she wanted to avoid the most sauntered into the dining hall, Lord Brenan.

  Brenan was her father’s closest friend and advisor. The man was tall and powerfully built from his years spent as a mercenary. His jet black hair was peppered with gray, and his goatee didn’t quite hide his weak chin. Tonight he was wearing a navy colored coat that held light lace on the cuffs. His coat hung open, displaying thick chest hair spilling out of the top of his white undershirt, and his navy pants were tucked into knee high boots. In his hand was a flask.

  At the sight of Evaline, a predatory look entered his cruel black eyes, and he smiled wickedly at her. His teeth turned her stomach. They were a nauseating yellowish brown color, and she knew his breath reeked of booze. Panic welled up inside of Evaline, and she looked frantically about for a way to get away from the man.

  “Good evening, Evaline,” Brenan slurred slightly in his usual feigned charm.

  “Lord Brenan,” Evaline replied in a strained voice. Her stomach felt like it was likely to empty itself of the meal she had sparsely consumed at the mere sight of the man.

  Brenan must have noticed her panicked and nauseated expression because he closed the distance between them quickly and took the seat directly next to her. He scooted the chair until he was practically sitting on top of her. From this proximity, she could smell the brandy seeping from his pores. It was all she could do to not become sick from the smell and the anxiety churning inside her stomach.

  “My, you look simply delectable tonight,” he whispered suggestively. He leaned in to tongue her ear, drunkenly slobbering over it .

  Evaline cringed and tried to back away from the man. Instead, he grabbed the arms of her high backed chair harshly and dragged her back so they were eye to eye with one another. Brenan’s face had turned a ghastly purple with anger as she had shied away. He raised his hand holding the flask up like he might strike her. A seething desire burned in his eyes, and Evaline flinched away as far she could while being confined by the brutish lord.

  “You insolent little bitch! After everything I have done for you. I practically raised you and this is the thanks I receive?”

  Spittle flew from his mouth, and a gagging wave of brandy filled Evaline’s nostrils. She looked desperately to the servants for any kind of assistance, but as always when Brenan accosted her, they simply ignored her pleas for help. Who were they to stop a lord in his pleasures? Evaline thought bitterly.

  Evaline had told her father of Brenan’s treatment countless times, yet Jonarus ignored her just like the servants did. She remembered his response to her when she was only eleven years old and terrified beyond her wits the first time that it had happened. She had run to her father for protection. Instead she had received a lecture.

  “Lord Brenan is my dearest friend and confidant. He was there for me when your despicable mother abandoned us, and he has looked out for your interests like that of an uncle looking after his favorite niece ever since. Now, I won’t hear another slight, or lie against the man from you, Evaline. Do I make myself clear?”

  Each response from her father thereafter when the subject had been broached had been similar. She had despondently accepted her father would not help her.

  Brenan’s hand had begun to grope its way forcibly under Evaline’s skirt when a massive explosion shook the Tower of Axion. The tower itself swayed ominously and the dining quarters lurched so dramatically that nearly every servant toppled over. Three-quarters of the dishes and glasses on the table crashed to the floor and Lord Brenan was flung backwards off his seat. Evaline’s own chair barely remained upright, but it tottered back soundly on its four legs. She took advantage of the tumult and used the opportunity to hike up her skirts and run away as fast as she could.

  She shouldered the doors leading into her dining quarters open and dashed down the garish entry hallway. Sprinting as fast as she could, she sped past priceless paintings and sculptures. From behind her, Brenan bellowed obscenities and depraved promises of the pain and punishment he would exact on her when he finally caught up with her. No matter how fast she ran, or t
he countless hallways and stairwells she cut down trying to throw Brenan off her trail, his frenzied screaming drew ever closer.

  Sobbing in panic and frustration, Evaline fell onto the floor as another explosion racked the tower. Her head bounced off the floor, and lights danced into her vision. Slightly dazed, Evaline tried to scramble to her feet, but she had become tangled in her flowing skirts. At that moment, Lord Brenan came around the corner. His face was contorted with rage and he was breathing frantically.

  Evaline managed to get disencumbered enough to get onto all fours and she tried desperately to crawl away from him. Brenan’s long legs quickly closed the distance, and he pounced on her from behind. He gripped her hair brutally and pulled her head back. As he did so, he rained brandy-soaked saliva down onto her tear-streaked face.

  “Did you think you could get away from me, you stupid little whore?” Brenan cooed at her, almost caressingly.

  Aftershocks shook the hallway occasionally, but they were nowhere near as violent as how Evaline was trembling from pure terror. His grip on her hair tightened, and she cried out as he began to hike her skirts up. Screaming as loud as she could, Evaline thrashed with all her might. She kicked and clawed at him ferociously, but her efforts did little good. Like it had happened countless times before, Brenan overpowered her. He was just too strong to fend off.

  “That’s right, fight me. Scream! Here, I’ll scream with you. ‘Help! Help!’ See? We’re all alone. There’s nobody that’s going to save you from me, bitch.”

  Evaline knew it was true, but she fought on anyways. She bit and clawed with every bit of tenacity she had left, trying her best to break free. After a few moments of wild struggling, her strength finally abandoned her. Tears streamed silently down her face, and she closed her eyes. All she could do now was wait for it to be over.

  Brenan had finally managed to tear Evaline’s skirts off and was about to do the same to her undergarments when from behind them two harsh and guttural voices filled the empty corridor.