SOREN

  "The bodies are getting closer," Aeros crouched to observe the blood at the cliff's edge. "Won't be long before the slain lie at the gate of King's Veil."

  "The question is how long the spell will hold," Soren said with the hilt of his sword in the palm of his hand.

  Aeros examined the unnatural color of the blood. He wasn't known to overanalyze with such serious regard. He was over a thousand years old, a Netherborne by birthright, so his upbringing steeled him against most horrors. Yet, his heavy silence left Soren wondering if this attack had ignited something deep within him.

  Soren could sense a shift in the intensity of Aeros’s gaze, but the reason eluded him. The Silverstone House had already ascended above the heights with blood and fire. After all those centuries, they were nothing more than the embodiment of destruction.

  "The color," he whispered. "It's as black as coal."

  "What an abominable thing," Nikolai whispered. "Truly, a waste of a golem."

  "It wasn't human," Soren said. "Whatever that thing was, it's nothing the Valerian Court has ever seen."

  Soren had been aware of the Galadhrim problem for months, but a few dead Golems were hardly reason to spark a civil war. However, when the creature procured a taste for Netherborne, Lord Thrane Lightwood sent his best soldier to keep an eye on the border.

  But in truth, he meant the crown.

  "We'll be able to find out soon enough," Aeros announced, standing back up. "The blood is fresh."

  Soren listened to the strong winds pushing from south of the border. A strong, putrid odor burned the inside of his nostrils, but not even a branch snapped in half. Maybe it was the dead elf, or something was watching them. "Let's not wait around to find out," Soren replied.

  "And what do you suggest we tell the Queen?" Aeros let out a breath. "We turned tail at the first drop of blood."

  "We're two days' journey from Thoranfall. After we've gathered supplies in Ariendale, we ride to Lord Thrane. Then we employ him to send his best soldiers to defend the gate." Soren stated firmly, his voice hard as iron.

  "The Lord of Thoranfall may be a Netherborne at heart," Aeros pointed out. "But he's no kang."

  He walked closer to him with an indifferent stare. "When next you speak on common elves, Lord Aeros. Remember the thousands of soldiers that died so you can have the privilege of humping their daughters."

  Soren sensed the crude smile fading from Aeros' mouth faster than the body decaying at his feet. In truth, he was mesmerized by how calmly Aeros regarded the fallen. They'd happened upon countless bodies, but he hadn't spared any of them as much as a second glance. Even after an Elfete lay before him with her flesh ripped clean off her bones and her entire ribcage exposed.

  Body after body still, Aeros grinned.

  It wasn't like Soren to lose his temper. He had only spoken to Aeros out of anger, still his father always reminded him to mind his aggression. It was a gateway into his emotions, and nothing good would come from a Lightwood awakening their siel.

  Not when the ancient kingdom sat directly below the sharp, jagged rocks of the mountain, engulfed in a thick cloud of mist. He heard tales about the great battle at the Moon's Edge and how the humans thought they were the victors. If mothers knew what happened on that battlefield, they would have dug a graveyard for themselves and their children long ago.

  This place was where Soren last stood when the veil was lifted over four hundred years ago. He fought a battalion of warriors without fear, but tonight, he wasn't sure he could muster the same courage. Whatever was killing these elves scared him. The way they were being executed was vicious, but there wasn't a pattern. Why did they have to die?

  Soren could sense someone had been following them. He hadn't felt this way when they stopped in Thoranfall three days ago. Even when they rode on horseback to Dragmus Castle in Galadhrim, he never suspected anyone was foolish enough to pursue them. The unease rode with him long after young Nikolai volunteered to accompany them on their journey.

  Not that he suspected the Ancient Eldryn of disobeying their orders. The Dragmus clan may have held a sanctimonious air about them, but they didn't have the stomach for this. Not when Nikolai trotted on his best horse while his elders walked ten miles to the Moon's Edge. He warned the boy that his horse wouldn't survive the rock climb. But Nikolai wanted his subjects to see him seated above them, so he rode away on top of his white shire horse.

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  Aeros walked to the edge of the cliff and pressed his left foot into the petrified rock. He watched the ground crumble beneath his feet. "Don't mind the bones," he told Soren, his eyes consumed in a searing light. "There's enough to fill the whole realm in the vale." He leaped forward, instantly descending the mountain.

  They both fell in silence, aware of the gravity of their mission. The boy's face had turned as white as snow. A form of nature the Netherborne had never lived to witness because the Eldryn despised it. The fragile element wasn't the issue. It was the world beyond their dimension. One even the Valerian Court feared.

  "Are you certain you can make the journey on horse," Soren asked. "There's no shame in leaving on foot. The strongest magic wielder would struggle descending this chasm. It's fifty feet until you reach the bottom."

  Nikolai tightened his grip on the reins, uncertainty settling in his stormy grey eyes. He kept observing the cliff's edge; Soren almost expected him to ride off the mountain in a blaze of glory. But he knew if Nikolai used his siel to raise himself and the horse to the ground, then only his death would be inevitable. "I'll make it." He sneered. "My siel will protect Kallias and me from the fall."

  That name reminded him that the young elf had an older brother. The eldest son of Fitzroy was set to inherit the throne at the same age as Nikolai. He barely scratched the surface of life, but like his father, he already conquered the limitations of his siel. There were rumors about the atrocities that took place in Galadhrim, how they resorted to devouring elven flesh to satisfy their thirst for power.

  But he knew better than to listen to the ramblings of fools. Still, the twelve clans weren't stupid enough to devour the hearts of their own people. But if an elf wasn't responsible for the dead Netherborne, he feared something must have crossed over into their world.

  The question still remained: what was strong enough to open a portal sealed shut by the twelve strongest magic wielders?

  "Milord, you must abandon the horse," Soren said. "Even if you survive, a white horse galloping about the moon's edge is a target. Leave it now, or I promise its screams will be the last thing you hear."

  "I am the son of Fitzroy Dragmus, and in seven days, I will rule the twelve kingdoms. Then the north."

  "I'm sorry, but I can't let you pass."

  "I am not yours to command, Soren," He snapped. "But since you love the Netherborne so much after I survive, I'll give elves like you a chance to join them."

  "You can gather the commoners on your side. After all, our world was built on their backs. Isn't that why you joined this quest?"

  "Why should a drunk and a useless eldryn have all the glory?"

  Soren released the Astral Steel from its sheath, and the blade glistened like a distant galaxy. "I promised your father I would keep you safe, so if you want to leave, you have to go through me."

  "Are you ready?" He stepped away from his horse, summoning his magic. "You can't fathom the power you have denied, but soon, you'll have a choice. Either consume under the Dragmus banners or die as a Netherborne."

  The young Lord faced his elder travel companion; his compassion vanished the longer his powers were activated. His left arm raised diagonally, revealing a charcoal-black scar on the back of his hand. The mountain convulsed underneath their feet as Soren centered his blade toward the boy. At first, he hadn't known the cause of his revelation, but when Nikolai's eyes pulsed a searing white light, he understood.

  "For the child of an Eldryn, it's disgusting how you have forgotten the laws of your people." Soren calmly criticized. He slowly paced himself, but when his foot pressed against the edge of the cliff, his vision became clear as his eyes circled his target. One clean shot was all he needed to keep his oath to the crown.

  "Outdated laws fit for a decrepit race of elves," Nikolai said with venom in his tone. "Your rules will die with you and every house that refuses to bend the knee."

  "An Eldryn cannot be killed!" Soren gripped the hilt of his sword in fury, his chest rising and falling. He stood there silently, waiting for the first burst of power to strike where he stood like a bolt of lightning. The power of the boy's siel encased around him like a suit of armor. He burned as a pure white flame. A surge of energy sparked from his fingertips, and before it could strike, Soren jolted to the edge of the mountain.

  He barely dodged Nikolai's first blow and, even with his feet a shoulder-width apart in a perfect battle stance. The same move he used to cut down over a thousand men was at the mercy of the gentlest gust of power. His heart drummed inside his chest the longer the ground caved beneath his feet.

  One wrong move and he would fall into the chasm, and The Age of Chaos would cast over the entire realm. Soren knew that even as the Valerian Court's pawn, Victoria Penance still moved in the shadows. And he was willing to take his last breath to ensure the Queen Regent never sat on the throne with absolute reign.

  Soren knew his actions could cost his realm a significant loss, but he truly believed he was sitting the lesser of two evils in the seat of power. No matter what mischief young Nikolai spat, he believed in time, he would grow to listen to the voices of the realm instead of his own. Soren didn't have a choice as he leaped from the edge a second after the lightning struck.

  He held the Astral Steel in his left hand as a sharp pain radiated in the center of his chest. The blood dripped from his blade while his tears fell in silence. One thrash of his sword was all it took to slice into the horse's neck past flesh, cartilage, and bone. One clean slice and the head of the shire horse fell at the boy's feet. Its body collapsed to the ground with a thud.

  "Nikolai." He whispered, out of breath.

  "What in the twelve kingdoms?" Nikolai said, watching a claw cling to the edge of the mountain.

  Soren's face contorted into a piercing look of disgust. Suddenly, he heard the sound of bones shifting and cracking in the dead of night. The stench reeked of rotting flesh and sulfur. He grabbed the horse by its mane as he stood in the center of the mountain. When Nikolai activated his siel Soren knew what he faced. An ancient power his family had refused was still one with his soul. He realized how he was able to sense decimation following them at the end of their journey.

  Now he understood as hundreds of hideous creatures climbed the top of the cliff from all directions. They were the steed of a new abomination. The familiar beast carried a death no living elf or golem had witnessed. Soren could tell from the boy's petrified face that he never encountered either beast before. The Wraith he knew walked upright on eight long, sinuous legs that connected to a twisted, slimy exoskeleton. Even like a filthy rat, it could shift the bones in its jaw to extend its mouth to swallow its prey whole.

  He couldn't figure out the origin of the decrepit skeletons that tamed the deadliest creature in the nation. A yellow light glowed within their eye sockets behind layers of dead tissue. Nikolai covered his mouth to stop his lunch from returning to the ground as the rider descended the beast. The long worms slithered amongst its decayed muscle and hung from its skull by the thousands. The remains had the appearance of a man, but it reminded him of an elf.

  Soren threw the head of the horse to the herd of Wraith waiting behind them. He knew the only thing separating Nikolai from death was a few seconds. So he waited until the creatures crawled over each other in a frenzy, fighting over a scrap of meat. Then he lunged forward at the beasts, unfazed by their army.

  He used every ounce of his strength to thrust his sword through countless Wraith. When Soren wielded his sword it danced in the starlight as he hacked the beasts in half. He knew no matter what happened, Nikolai had to reach the end of The Moon's Edge. He had to tell his people what he saw when he reached the veil. But more importantly he had to unseat the usurper.

  "Escape to the edge now!" Soren roared.

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  I wasn't sure I wanted to leave an authors note, but I felt compelled to clear up some things. I'm going to try my best to show you the meaning of everything, but in the meantime here's a quick pronunciation course. I hope this helps and please stay tuned for more updates by following my Wattpad account. If you have any questions feel free to comment I'll be sure to address them in the next chapter.