Chapter seven

Tyrane, Sanamtra

The city of the king's officials.

Arnold's Mansion, in the gardens

Auberon sat solemnly, staring into space, lost in thought.

Something's not right here. I can feel it!

he thought.

Though life in Grandpa's mansion was comfortable, he couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong. He missed his mother terribly. The unease had been growing stronger by the minute.

Alexis must feel it too, but she's too happy playing with other kids to worry about it.

He got up and moved to another part of the garden.

Mama is strong. I trust her. But she never takes this long on her assignments.

Then, a terrifying thought struck him. Could Grandpa have sent her on a deadly mission?

That would mean... she might not come back.

A twig snapped behind him. Auberon whirled around, his hand instinctively reaching for the knife strapped to his thigh.

A young girl slowly stepped out of the shadows, smiling guiltily. She had an unusually pale complexion and the darkest shade of black hair he had ever seen—

A servant.

"Hello," she said.

"Hi. What can I do for you? Is Grandpa back yet?" he replied flatly, a bored expression on his face.

"Umm… it's just that… umm… I think you're very handsome… and, umm…" She kept glancing between him and the ground.

Auberon frowned, unsure of what she was getting at.

"I know, as a servant, I shouldn't be doing this," she continued. "But if I don't, my friends will bully me. If I can at least get your name, they'll leave me alone for now."

She sighed.

A tense silence followed. Frustrated, she looked up at him and noticed his gaze fixed on her leg.

"Did they do that to you?" he asked, pointing at the scarred burn on her left leg. "A hot iron, I presume?"

"Yes… but that doesn't matter right now. Please don't report this to Master Arnold."

They stood there, saying nothing. Seeing that he wasn't going to respond, she turned to leave.

"Auberon," he said suddenly.

"What?"

"My name is Auberon. And yours?"

"Umm… my name is Sybil. And… thank you, Auberon."

She retreated into the shadows the same way she had come.

Auberon turned back to his thoughts, his mind made up.

We have to get out of here—no matter what—and find a way to get to Mama.

Cyrus, Malenia

Capital City – King's Castle, Courtroom

"But Father! You can't just ignore all this!" Clyde yelled.

"Yes, I can, son. I'm not in the mood for this right now. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that my precious daughter was abducted under my nose!"

The king abruptly stood up and stormed out of the court. Clyde's gaze followed him before turning back to the elders of Malenia and his father's personal advisor, Colin.

"So? What are you going to do about my sister's disappearance? It's obvious the Malishains have a hand in this."

"We will do nothing against the Malishains, Prince Clyde," Colin said calmly. "Soldiers and mercenaries have already been sent to search for her. What more can we do?"

"No more of this nonsense, Prince Clyde," another elder added. "Please, remain calm and let us handle this as quietly as possible. We don't want to cause more panic than there already is. Is that clear?"

"Just go back to being oblivious, like you always have!" Clyde snapped.

"No!" He slammed his fist on the table. "If you won't do anything, then I will!"

He stormed out, his attendant Bernald trailing behind him.

"What now, my prince?" Bernald asked.

"Prepare all my traveling necessities. We leave tomorrow morning."

"We?"

"Yes, we. Or are you unwilling to go?" Clyde sighed. "If you're not, I won't force you."

"No, no, my prince! I am more than willing to follow you anywhere! After all, I am your attendant!" Bernald said, puffing out his chest.

"Good. Go prepare." Clyde turned and walked toward the queen's quarters.

He knocked gently. A female servant cautiously peeked out before fully opening the door.

Upon entering, his gaze immediately sought his mother, who sat quietly by a window. He swiftly moved to her side, taking her right hand in his own.

"Hello, Mother. How have you been faring?"

She remained silent, still staring outside.

"I'm going to look for Grace, Mama. I have to. Please take care of yourself while I'm gone, okay?"

"Hmm? Who's Grace?"

Clyde sighed. It's a shame you don't even remember birthing Grace—your only daughter. If not for this strange disease that's come upon you… perhaps things would be different…

He kissed her forehead and left, heading for the king's chambers. He knocked before slowly stepping inside.

His breath caught at the sight before him—his father, the mighty king, weeping heavily on his bed.

"Father?" Clyde's voice was hesitant. "Are you alright?"

He moved closer and lay beside his father.

"Oh, my son… I didn't want you to see me like this. It's just… I don't know what to do anymore. First, it was your mother, now my only daughter. Lord, why is all this happening?"

"It's alright, Father. I will bring Grace back. You have my word."

His father sighed. "There's no need, Clyde. I do not wish to lose you too."

"I've made up my mind, Father. I only wished to inform you of my departure."

The king chuckled weakly. "You're as stubborn as your mother… Alright, then. But please, be careful out there."

Clyde nodded and hurried back to his quarters to prepare. The rest of the day blurred by. And when the moon eventually rose, he fell into a deep sleep—plunging into a dark abyss of nightmares…

He stood in a strange landscape, the once-green forestry engulfed in blackness. The whispers of the damned drifted through the air.

A long, shrill scream echoed through the forest, shaking it to its core. Clyde stood frozen, paralyzed by unseen hands.

The ground trembled as a terrifying figure came into view—a colossal black serpent, its dark scales shimmering under the pale moonlight.

But the creature wasn't focused on him. No, its deadly gaze was locked on someone else—Colin.

Clyde's breath caught. The creature rose to its full height, striking with impossible speed.

Nothing visible happened. And yet, Colin let out a bloodcurdling scream.

Clyde jolted awake, cold sweat running down his spine. He remained seated, too disturbed to close his eyes again.

When the sun finally peeked through his curtains, he stood, shelving his fears away.

It will be difficult, but it will be worth it.

For the first time in his life, Clyde was finally going to be the big brother he had never been to Grace.

MALISHA,

Alishak

Yvonne was still tied to a chair—but alone.

That annoying man had finally left.

She struggled against her bonds, finally managing to free her hands. Cautiously, she stood, stretching her sore joints. Faint light peeked from under the door—guards were stationed outside, more than necessary.

She moved to the window, sliding it open as quietly as possible, hoping no one heard. Then, she jumped out and hurried away.

Even though it was dark, she remained cautious. As they say: Being careful costs less than being reckless.

After ensuring the coast was clear, she approached the house's entrance and knocked softly before vanishing into the shadows.

Minutes later,

the door creaked open.

Before the man could react, she struck the back of his head, catching his weight and dragging him into the darkness.

Swiftly, she slipped inside unnoticed, turning left to avoid a group of soldiers gathered near the room where she had been held.

She searched the nearest room but found no sign of Grace.

Had that talkative man taken her?

Or was he lying?

No.

Lying didn't seem like his style.

I need to find that man, she thought. Then I'll find Grace… and get as far from here as possible. The other kingdoms must be on their way to Tyrane by now, and I have only two days left to gather information.

Yvonne sighed.

At least I know what the Four kingdoms are up to. But how do I explain all this to King Clement in a way he'll actually listen?

She made her way to the parlor and immediately spotted a complete map of Marly lying on a table. Snatching it up, she grabbed a coat and dashed out through a nearby window into the streets.

She stopped abruptly. A loud scream echoed from deep in the woods.

Without hesitation, she sprinted toward the sound.

Unaware of the figure creeping behind her, she dodged behind a tree, instincts kicking in.

A short distance away, a dark figure loomed over someone tied to a chair. The figure seemed to be speaking, but Yvonne couldn't hear.

She moved closer, slipping behind another tree. Taking a deep breath, she peeked out again—her heart stopped.

Grace was tied to the chair, her face and body bruised beyond recognition

Yvonne's furious gaze locked onto the looming figure. She tensed at the sight of Ethel—the woman with an aura of pure malice. Ethel's hands were stained with Grace's blood.

Without thinking, Yvonne lunged forward, her blade thirsting for Ethel's life. But as if expecting the attack, Ethel moved swiftly, dodging to the side, barely avoiding the strike.

Drawing her own weapon, Ethel's blade slashed across Yvonne's left shoulder. Yvonne winced but pushed forward. She wasn't fast enough—Ethel's sword drove through her already bruised shoulder, piercing deep. Blood dripped to the forest floor.

Yvonne's scream echoed through the night.

Gritting her teeth, she endured the pain, using the moment to close the distance. With a final, desperate lunge, she plunged her sword into Ethel's stomach.

…Reality…

Ethel stumbled backward, clutching her stomach with one hand, her chest with the other.

Abijah's sharp gaze followed her.

"What happened?" he demanded.

"She… she killed me! She actually killed me!" Ethel gasped.

Abijah rolled his eyes. "Don't be dramatic, Ethel. It was an illusion—one you conjured in her mind. She didn't actually kill you. Now, tell me what I need to know. What happened in there?"

Ethel scowled. "Just because it was fabricated doesn't mean it didn't take a toll on me! She's stronger than she looks. We should kill her before we regret it. I've gathered enough information."

Abijah groaned, rubbing his temples. "We're not killing her. Not yet."

Ethel clenched her jaw. "She's from Tyrane. A spy sent by the king's advisor—not the king himself—to investigate the peace treaty meant to unify all of Marly."

She crossed her arms. "I still say we should get rid of her before she escapes and reports back. It won't end well for us."

Abijah narrowed his eyes. "I'm not convinced. I want you to go back into her mind—dig deeper into her past."

Ethel scoffed. "Didn't you hear me? That's all she knows! And I'm not going back in—it's too unstable!"

Abijah suddenly leaped from his seat. His hand wrapped around Ethel's throat before she could finish speaking. She choked, clawing at his grip, gasping for air.

"I don't care if it's unstable. Make it stable," he growled.

The moment he released her, Ethel collapsed to the floor, coughing.

"How dare you—"

His blade was at her throat in an instant, daring her to speak another word.

"I don't care if my mother favors you or not," he said coldly. "Disrespect me again, and I won't hesitate to cut off that pathetic head of yours. Am I understood?"

Ethel swallowed hard and nodded.

"Now get out before I lose my temper just looking at you. GET OUT!"

Ethel scrambled away, her face twisted in fury as she stormed to her chambers, slamming the door behind her.

Damn it! she seethed. If not for the Elders' orders, I wouldn't be bowing to that human beast. I would've devoured him in his sleep by now!

She clenched her fists. With Delila dead, I've lost a significant portion of my power. The spell I cast on him is wearing off—that's why his temper is flaring up. I have to fix that before it fades completely…

Her expression darkened. But first, I'll make sure that Cyrisian princess dies. If I consume her, her Highness will be pleased and grant me more power.

She exhaled sharply. And that woman… how did she break out of the illusion so easily?

Elsewhere…

Abijah sat in silence, shifting uneasily in his chair. Strange, unfamiliar images flashed in his mind—a serpent, his brothers, and… his late mother.

His eyes snapped open. Realization struck him like a blade to the chest.

My mother…?

She died in childbirth. But she's still alive…?

How is that possible?

A chilling thought crept into his mind. Is she an imposter? Or… have I finally lost my sanity?

If she had died years ago… how had his brothers not noticed something was amiss?

No. I did know the truth once.

Then, he remembered. A doctor. A man who had claimed he could bring their mother back.

But that doctor… was Ethel.

Abijah shot up from his seat.

"This makes no sense!" he roared.

"That's probably because she's not human, you brainless twit."

His gaze snapped to Yvonne, still bound to the chair.

"What do you mean?" he asked, ignoring her insult.

"Isn't it obvious?" Yvonne said. "The aura she gives off alone is unnatural. I don't know what she is, but she's definitely not human."

She smirked. "If you let me go, I can help you. Sounds like a fair trade, don't you think?"

Abijah scoffed. "You know… the way this war is shaping up, I'm starting to think it's not what it seems."

Yvonne nodded. "Exactly."

He rubbed his temple. "My head's foggy… like I've been hypnotized for a long time. Does that even make sense?"

Yvonne rolled her eyes.

In an instant, he was in front of her, gripping her throat as she wheezed for air.

"Don't ever roll your eyes at me, woman. Or I'll snap your pretty neck."

Yvonne gasped—but instead of cowering, she spat in his face.

His eyes flared with rage. His grip tightened… then, suddenly, he smirked and let go, watching as she coughed and crawled away.

"Oh? So you do know how to cower in fear," he taunted. "You were so proud just moments ago."

She wiped her mouth, glaring up at him.

"You men never change, do you?" she whispered. "Just like the pitiful man that birthed me."

With lightning speed, she lunged, slamming a knife into his chest.

If not for his thick cloak and reflexes, the blade would have pierced his heart.

"Stupid woman!" he roared, shoving her back. She crashed against the wall as he raised his hand to strike her—

But he stopped inches from her face.

She was crying.

An image flashed through his mind—long black hair, sparkling green eyes, a warm smile.

Mother…?

His fists unclenched. His hands lowered, pulling Yvonne into an embrace.

She stiffened, unsure of what was happening. But as tears spilled down her cheeks, her pent-up emotions poured out in heavy sobs.

He patted her back. She cried until she was empty.

Finally, she pulled away, gently tapping his arm—a silent request to release her.

Understanding, he stepped back, giving her space.

"…Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she said quickly. "What about you?"

Abijah sighed. "I can't let you go, Yvonne. That much is clear."

Her eyes narrowed. "And why not?"

"Because I need answers. There's something bigger behind this war. I forgot my own mother's death, as if I was…"

"…Hypnotized?" Yvonne offered.

"Yes. And that means the other kingdoms might be under the same control—forced into war."

"If that's true," she said, "I can't let my people walk into a slaughter."

"Then what if—"

A blood-curdling scream cut through the night.

Yvonne bolted from the room before Abijah could react. He chased after her, bursting into the chamber where Grace had been held—

Only to find Ethel standing over her limp body.

"No!" Yvonne rushed to cradle Grace's motionless form.

Abijah turned to Ethel, his face dark.

"What did you do?"

Abijah's voice vibrated with anger as he demanded an answer.

Ethel glared back at him, defiance burning in her eyes.

He smirked, tightening his grip with each passing second. She wheezed, struggling for breath, but gathered her resolve. There was only one choice left.

She shifted.

Abijah instinctively stepped back, drawing his sword as thick gray smoke engulfed her body. When it cleared, a black python lay coiled before him—larger than an ordinary serpent but not as massive as Delila.

What in the world…?!

Ethel struck first. Slithering forward with terrifying speed, she whipped her tail at him, slamming him hard against the stone wall. He grunted in pain, momentarily stunned.

Wasting no time, she turned toward Yvonne.

Yvonne's breath hitched as the serpent locked eyes with her. Without hesitation, she shielded Grace with her own body.

Ethel hissed, then spat a thick stream of venom at her. Yvonne gasped as the venom coated her arms and chest, burning against her skin.

Using the moment of distraction, Ethel slithered toward the window and disappeared into the woods.

Abijah quickly recovered, clutching his middle as he pushed himself up. He started toward the window, ready to pursue—

But then he saw Yvonne wince.

His anger flickered into concern. He crouched beside her, shaking her gently.

"Are you alright? Say something, love!"

Yvonne's eyes snapped up, blazing with fury.

She shoved his hands away. "Don't ever call me that!"

He smiled at her.

"Good to know you're well. How's the princess?" he asked, glancing at Grace. "She's not dead yet—just unconscious. But if her wounds aren't treated quickly, she won't last."

"Should I get the healer?" she asked.

"No," she replied. "Just fetch me the supplies I need. I'll do it myself."

Abijah glanced at her in surprise before rushing off.

"Stay close, Grace. You'll be alright," Yvonne whispered as she gathered the princess.