Chapter 2: The King’s Burden
1082 Words
Caius
The air in Lilydale is too pure. It tastes of ozone and ancient cedar, a sharp contrast to the suffocating stench of the Grey World I left behind a decade ago. Here, the waterfalls roar with the sound of a thousand crystal bells, and the rainbows arch across the sky like the ribs of a gargantuan, colorful beast.
It is a paradise. And I hate it.
I stood on the balcony of the High Castle, my fingers digging into the railing of white marble. Below me, the valley was a tapestry of emerald and gold, dotted with the silver backs of my kin as they ran in their wolf forms. To any other eyes, this was peace. To mine, it was a target.
"The Northern scouts have returned," a voice rumbled behind me.
I didn't need to turn to know it was Meth. He moved with the silence of a shadow, his presence heavy with the scent of wet earth and whetstones. He was my right hand, the man who had pulled me from the wreckage of my father’s court and taught me that a King’s heart must be made of flint.
"And?" I asked, my voice a low rasp.
"Uncle Puth is gathering the tribes at the Iron Pass. He’s telling them the 'True King' died in the fire fifteen years ago. He calls you a pretender, Caius. A ghost wearing a crown of cinders."
I felt the familiar growl building in my chest—a vibration that started in my lungs and ended in my teeth. My shadows lengthened, the magic of the Moon-Bond reacting to my fury. The marble under my hands began to frost over, the white stone turning a jagged, crystalline blue.
"Let him call me what he wishes," I said, turning to face him. "A ghost can still slit a throat. Does he have the weapon?"
Meth shook his head, his expression grim. "The Sun-Scepter is still locked behind the Veil. He can’t touch it without the Key. But he’s looking for her. His hunters are scouring the border villages in the Grey World. It’s only a matter of time before they find the mark."
The thought of Puth’s butchers—men with silver-laced whips and cold eyes—near her made my blood turn to liquid fire. I could still feel the phantom warmth of her small hands on my fur. I could still hear her voice, a soft melody in the dark: “It’s okay, little wolf. You’re safe now.”
I wasn't a little wolf anymore. I was the Alpha of the Lunar Court, and I was done being safe.
"Caius! Caius, look!"
A blur of iridescent scales slammed into my shins. Tiko, the smallest and most troublesome dragon in the mountains, let out a triumphant chirp. He puffed out his chest, and with a pop of blue smoke, he shifted. Where a baby dragon had been, a five-year-old boy with messy silver hair and glowing violet eyes now stood, wearing nothing but a pair of oversized leather breeches.
"I did it! I stayed human for ten whole minutes!" Tiko cheered, tripping over his own feet and grabbing my cloak for balance.
"Nine minutes," Marth corrected, sauntering into the solar with a tray of spiced meat. She leaned down and ruffled Tiko’s hair, her golden bangles clinking musically. "And you almost set the curtains on fire, you little lizard."
She looked up at me, her playful expression softening into something more perceptive. Marth was the only one in this castle who wasn't afraid to look me in the eye when the beast was close to the surface.
"You’re brooding again," she said, sliding a piece of meat into Tiko’s mouth to quiet him. "The sky is turning purple, Caius. Your moods are messing with the weather. The gardeners are complaining that the lilies are blooming backward."
"I am going to the Grey World," I said, ignoring her jab.
The room went silent. Even Tiko stopped chewing.
"The treaty," Meth said, his voice dropping an octave. "If a King crosses the Divide without a formal summons, it’s an act of war. The Dragons won't support you, and the Northern Tribes will use it as an excuse to invade."
"I am not going as a King," I growled, my eyes flashing gold. "I am going as a hunter. The Mark has matured. I felt it this morning—a pulse of light so strong it nearly blinded the Bond. If I can feel it, Puth’s sorcerers can too."
"You’re going for the girl," Marth said softly. It wasn't a question.
I turned back to the balcony, looking toward the jagged peaks that hid the misery of the human world. "I am going for the Key. Without her, Puth wins. Without her, Lilydale falls."
"Is that what you’re telling yourself?" Marth asked, her voice trailing after me as I strode toward the door.
I didn't answer. I couldn't.
I descended the spiral staircase, my cloak billowing like a shroud. I passed Louis’s room—my little brother, the only piece of my soul that hadn't been scorched by the fire. He was asleep, his chest rising and falling in the steady rhythm of the innocent. I would do anything to keep that rhythm going. Even if it meant k********g a girl who didn't remember me. Even if it meant bringing the very war I feared into the heart of my home.
In the courtyard, Ciara was waiting. The sorceress stood amidst a swirl of dark mist, her fingers weaving a spell of transport. She looked at me with those cold, calculating eyes—eyes that saw people as chess pieces and kingdoms as boards.
"The portal is ready, my King," she whispered, her voice like silk over a blade. "But remember: once you bring a human into Lilydale, the magic changes. The rainbows will either grow brighter, or they will break."
"Open it," I commanded.
The air tore open in front of me, a jagged rift of violet light that smelled of rain and distant, dying ash. I stepped through, leaving the colors of paradise behind for the grey shadows of a girl I hadn't seen in a lifetime.
I was coming for her. And God help anyone who stood in my way.
- Writer
