The Unmarked Orphan

Chapter One

Brightley

I watched the brush slide through the long hair of the princess while I stood behind her. I wondered if she felt the same weight on her soul that I felt on mine.

Fifteen years of blood and ash had passed since my parents were taken by the Drakomor war. I looked at her reflection. She was a woman who was supposed to be happy, but she looked like a ghost. I thought about how the fighting had defined every second of my existence since I was a toddler. I remembered nothing of my mother or my father; I only knew the face of Briston, the head of the King’s guards, who had pulled me from the wreckage of a burning border town. He had given me a name and a place in the castle, yet I still felt like a guest here.

"The war should have ended years ago," I remarked, pulling the silver brush through the ends of her hair.

Persephone stared at her own eyes in the mirror. "The Drakomor do not care for time, Brightley. They only care for the magic. The power of the river."

"I was two years old when Briston found me," I reminded her. "He took me in because he is the head of the King's guards and he saw a girl with no future. It's been fifteen years since then, and I am tired of the constant threat."

"You are twenty-one, Persephone," I continued. "You have seen more of this conflict than I have. Tell me the truth, do you think it will ever end?"

"The ritual today will be the end," she promised. "The sorcerer will channel the magic from the gods. It will fortify Valoria and ward off every evil that our enemies plan. It will be the final shield we need."

Before I could answer, a maid entered the room. "The ceremony is about to start, your majesty,” she said, addressing Persephone. “King George awaits his daughter and her friend at this moment.”

Persephone nodded, and the maid disappeared instantly. Though I wasn't a princess and she was much older than me, Persephone had taken me in as a younger sister since my adoption and protected me in every way.

We walked down to the grand hall where the whole kingdom was gathered.

"Stay close to me, Brightley," Persephone requested as we entered the massive space.

"I am right behind you," I assured her.

The sorcerer stood at the center of the hall, holding a staff that seemed to pulse with a light I could not explain. King George, Persephone's father, stood on the dais and looked out at his people.

“Today we gather here to seek the guidance and protection of our gods and goddesses, to ward off the evil plot of Drakomor, and to hope that this long-standing enmity will finally end.”

Everyone began to clap.

"Let the ritual begin," King George commanded.

Everyone took their seats. I sat next to Persephone and watched the sorcerer as he began to recite spells in a language no one understood. He moved his hands in complex patterns and prepared to channel the magic from the gods to fortify our land.

"You're sure this will work?" I whispered to Persephone.

"Focus on the light, Brightley," she urged.

The sorcerer held a vial of glowing liquid, preparing to pour it into the central brazier. But then, a shadow moved across the high windows, and a phoenix flew over the crowd. I looked up and saw the flames on its wings. The bird was crystal blue, massive, and beautiful.

The sorcerer stopped in shock, the vial slipped from his fingers and fell to the ground, spilling its contents.

"What is happening?" someone in the crowd shouted.

"A phoenix!" another person yelled. "It is an omen of blood!"

The kingdom began to go helter-skelter. People pushed toward the exits, climbing over benches and knocking each other down. In Valoria, seeing a phoenix during an event was a sign of impending tragedy.

The king tried to steady the crowd. “Block the exits!” he commanded Briston.

He turned to the sorcerer and shouted, “What the hell is going on?”

The old man stammered, “Si… Sire…”

"Persephone, are you okay?" I screamed.

Persophone tried to stand, but her legs gave out. She slipped and fell onto the cold stone. I rushed to grab her arm, but she was already limp.

"Help her!" I cried out to the guards.

Briston appeared and lifted her into his arms. "Get her into the castle! Now!"

I followed behind them as they carried her away from the chaos. I knew the secret they were trying to hide. Persephone was ill. She had a disease that caused her to sleep for days without warning. She woke up abruptly and then slept abruptly. The king had kept it a secret because he knew the people were already scared; they could not handle knowing their princess was broken while their land was under threat.

"She just fainted from the heat!" King George shouted to the crowd, trying to calm them. "The princess is fine!"

I knew he was lying. I followed the guards into the private wing. As I moved through the hall, I saw something on the ground. It was a feather from the phoenix. I reached down and picked it up, it felt like a needle of fire in my hand.

Immediately, I felt a surge of electric energy coursing through my body. It moved through my veins and settled in my chest. I shook off the feeling and ran to the room where they had laid my friend.

"Wake up, Persephone," I begged.

I knelt by her bed and took her hand. I wept as I looked at her pale face.

"I hate this illness," I sobbed. "I hate the war, I hate that everything is falling apart. Please, let it all end.”

I sobbed beside Persephone’s bed, hoping she would hear my gentle cries and wake, but her eyes remained shut.