Prologue (0.3)

It couldn't have been closer to the capital castle itself. From the high stain glassed windows to the soft velvet carpet, it was a perfect spitting image. Rylan's feet were bare, and he flex his toes, the calluses on his feet sighing in relief.

Then Rylan noticed something different. The King and Queen accompanied occasionally by their children were not on the throne. Laying in a very disgraced position sat Avellia, staring at her hands. Rylan's eyes flared, but he could only stare as she slowly looked up at him. Her smile was pure evil. With her beautiful blond hair and cold, blue eyes, she looked like a porcelain doll. A possessed one.

"What a pleasant surprise," she said unfeelingly. "Unhand him." The maids stepped away, curtsied to their master, and walked from the room. Avellia walked up to Rylan and tore to gag from his face.

Before Rylan could get in a biting remark, Avellia whispered in his ear, "Happy eighteenth birthday, Ry." Rylan turned his gasp into a deep breath.

"But . . . does that mean?"

"Yes, it does," Avellia said, pulling out a knife and tossing it between her fingers. "You've been here for a little over two years now."

Rylan couldn't believe it. He was positive he had only lost one year to her vicious grasp, not two.

"Time seems to drag on when you're dying, doesn't it?" Then her playful mood turned sorrowful. "I of all people understand it. You know, I disappeared for a short while. Nearly died of starvation. But you, you found me. You brought me in the light."

"And you sure have an odd way of repaying it," Rylan remarked.

"I'm putting you in the light. No more torture, no more starving. Instead, I give you a task. A quest, if you like it better that way."

Rylan pursed his lips. "It sounds intriguing, I must admit. But, oh, I just remembered, I'll never work for you. Especially after what you did to me. Two years? I lost two years of my life to you. Two years I'll never get back."

Avellia looked like she had been slapped in the face. Then she began laughing. "Oh, Rylan, I didn't expect you to remain so determined. Or sarcastic. It's not an offer. You must do it, or you die." Rylan only glared.

"Look, I heard from Una that you said you would give up the medallion, but I know you don't mean in your heart, which is why that is still around your neck. So, instead, I found a spell that would let me take the medallion. All I needed was for you to say that you'll give it up, even if you don't really mean it." Rylan hid his surprise.

"You wouldn't dare." Had he made a mistake in trying to save his life? Rylan tried to keep his cool by reminding himself of his magical protective spells. What he didn't realize was he said it out loud. "It's protected by magic. You'll never get it."

"Ry, you are as gullible as ever. You shouldn't have revealed where you're keeping it." Rylan's mouth gaped slightly open. Had he really said that aloud? "And when you put that protective spell on it you were weak on magic. You're still weak on magic." Then she began chanting in a different language, one that Rylan himself didn't know.

He felt himself grow panicked. "What are you doing?" His chest tightened, his breathing increased. She was making him freak out! Then, slowly, he felt his magical protections wear thin. When they snapped, he gasped as a wave of pain rolled over his heart. His medallion came out from under his shirt. Eyes widening, Avellia reached for the medallion. Her hands contacted the medallion.

And she went flying.

Rylan fell to the floor, feeling drained. Avellia stood up, a murderous look on her face. In rage, she screamed, and Rylan felt all the energy and health flee from his left arm. The bone snapped. He cried out in agony. His arm had already swollen tenfold.

"What did you do?" he screamed, gnawing on his teeth.

Avellia twitched. "I'm treating you like the swine you are."

In a quieter voice, he responded, "What was that? The chanting?

Avellia was still panting, but she managed to reply, "The Fornics taught me that, when I was in hiding. Taught me all I know, all I am."

"They taught you to be evil?" Rylan had to suppress a grin, even with the gruesome pain in his arm. He just repeated over and over in his head, you've had worse, you've had worse.

Avellia went to break Rylan's other arm, with her face distorted in so much anger it was hardly recognizable as the sweet young girl that Rylan had seen working in the bakery. She raised her arm and sneered, when the other girl on the throne stood up, holding out her hand. "Stop!"

Avellia turned to face Una, her face defiant. With a smile that sent daggers in Rylan's stomach, she said in a slightly constrained voice, "What did you say?"

"I said stop. You've already done enough to him. We need to keep him alive, remember?" Avellia chuckled, then moved her hand up. Eyes widening, the rug beneath Una began to float, taking her with it. When she was a good ten, maybe fifteen feet in the air, she let go, and the minute Una hit the floor she was knocked unconscious.

Rylan could only stare in sheer shock. The past two years taught him to hate Una, but Una didn't deserve that. No one deserved that. Except maybe Avellia.

"I wasn't planning on killing him. Sometimes I wonder why I let her persuade me as much as she does," Avellia muttered to herself.

Wiping her hands like she had just gotten blood on them, she went back to Rylan. He braced himself for more punishment, his pain replaced with fear, but instead she began to chant again. The panic grew in his chest once more, and like before, the medallion revealed itself. It was a crescent, silver moon that was meant to be attached to two other medallions. If Avellia ever got all three medallions, she would destroy the world.

"You can try again," Rylan breathed slowly. "It won't work. Don't you remember a thing she said? The medallions can only be given, never taken. Even if my life was on the line, I would never give you the medallion." Avellia continued chanting.

Rylan began to get lightheaded. His eyes drooped, now feeling extremely tired. He was always tired, but it was now to a point that it couldn't be ignored. He tried to resist, but he failed, and he went into a deep slumber.