Prophecy Bound: The Lightbringer Chronicles

The first attack

I watch him in horror, my mouth opens in protest, but his expression keeps me silent. It’s not appropriate for him to create my dinner plate. Only a man of kin can take the liberty of feeding a female.

I look to my father for guidance and find King Lyall watching us with intense interest. Damn it, now I have no choice but to let him finish. I can’t risk causing insult. Smiling politely, I don’t want to jeopardise anything before tomorrow, besides its only a plate of food. Instead, I take a very large sip of wine to keep myself silent. The flavour and scent is heady and sweet and has a strange afterbite, slightly spicy. There is too much silence, I need to be attentive.

“Are your chambers to your liking?” I ask, taking a bite of the roasted potatoes. They taste differently to what I am used to, even though it is a recipe I have had before. The cook must have added a new herb; I just can’t put my finger on what it is.

“Everything is to our satisfaction. Thank you. The remedy you gave me for my…ailment has been most helpful, although Lupinel's heal faster than most.” I watch his strong white teeth tear through a piece of meat with fascination. He gives me a glimpse of his canine incisors as he smiles audaciously and takes another bite, motioning for me to do the same. I try another potato, still not sure if I like the new herb used.

He is far too demanding of me, he needs to understand his place.

“I’m glad, I would hate you to misunderstand my intentions.” I comment tartly, but I have to tread carefully. I haven’t told Father about my encounter with Lycur and I know he’s listening to our conversation. I try some meat, the taste is strange, bitter even, and I frown as I chew, hoping it’s just my serving.

What is wrong with me?

These are my favourite dishes; I take some more wine to clear my taste buds, but the bitterness remains.

“Oh no, your intentions were perfectly clear, as I’m sure mine are with you.” He murmurs and leans closer to me. My cheeks flame with embarrassed heat, I struggle to compose a response.

“What are you talking about? What intentions?” Great, now he’s done it. I curse in my head as Father’s question interrupts my train of thought.

“It’s nothing Father, a misunderstanding, he’s just teasing me.”

I avoid replying to Lycur, take another sip of wine and look to Mother. She’s holding conversation with King Lyall, and he is nodding gravely at her.

“Teasing you about what, Saorise?” Father’s voice is warning in my head, I ignore him. I don’t want to talk about it with him and Lycur is talking to me again.

“Tell me, are the forests around here heavily inhabited?” His question throws me for a second and I look at him blankly, before it sinks in. There are too many conversations to focus on, I can’t concentrate properly. Shaking my head slightly, I attempt to answer.

“No. They are not. If you wish to…utilise… their cover to exercise your skills, then please do.” I’m never this inarticulate. I want to witness the transformation, having never seen it before, but I can’t form the proper words to ask.

“Where do you normally exercise your skills? I would imagine that the nature of your element could be problematic in most settings.” It’s true, having fire, as an element was problematic before I learnt how to control it. Mother was always with me — in case of an emergency. The strange taste is back in my mouth again; it’s making my voice sound thick.

“No setting is problematic anymore. I normally practice my morning salutation on the tower tops.” The meat melts on my tongue, the juices bursting with flavour, but it’s a weird taste. I don’t know what they have done to it, but it tastes all wrong. Lycur is watching me, I can feel his eyes studying my every move and expression, but I don’t care. My nose wrinkles as the taste moves from bitter to sour. Why is no one saying anything?

“I was raised that way. My father is a full-blooded Avarian, which means we have great respect for the prophecies and rituals and the salutations on my mother’s side.” Lyva has eaten all of her meat but left her vegetables untouched. “Try the eggplant Lyva, it’s my favourite.”

She turns her nose up but moves forward to sniff it, her Lupinel nose will be sensitive. Her nostrils flex and relax as she considers whether the smell is a good indication of the taste, then finally takes a small bite. Her head c***s to the side as she considers the texture and flavour; I take a sip of wine and then make a show of taking a large bite of my own. The taste is not what I expected, like everything else, it’s wrong.

At the last minute, she screws her nose up, considers spitting out the offending bite, but a soft warning growl from Lycur makes her think twice, and she takes a long loud, dramatic swallow. I keep my smirk to myself, and attempt to finish my meal, trying to ignore the taste.

“Please excuse her, she has never been partial to vegetables. I’m surprised she even tried that one.” Lycur apologises, a grin on his face as he leans in to keep Lyva from hearing his last comment. I grin back, sure she heard everything.

“At least she was open-minded enough to try something new.” The comment is passed off without much thought; the wine is stronger tonight for some reason. I am beginning to feel a soft languid heat in my limbs.

“And what about you? Are you open-minded to trying new things?” I squint at him, confused. He’s starting to look a little fuzzy and I take a long drink of water. It tastes tangy, not cool and clean; I look at my wine cup, suspicion slowly starts to form.

“I…I try to be… but it all depends on what is required… of me.” I answer unsteadily, trying to swallow, but my throat feels thick. My head is swimming now and I feel feverish. The room starts to spin. Something is seriously wrong. I place a hand on father's arm in panic, nails digging in. He looks at me sharply, and I hear his voice in my head.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. I think it’s the wine, it's extra strong tonight. My head is spinning.” I reply with an effort. I’m looking at him through cloudy eyes; I try to shake my head clear. He lifts my glass to his nose and sniffs sharply. Lycur leans forward too, realising something is wrong. My breathing becomes laboured. I break out in a cold sweat. The fire prickles my skin. I gasp for air.

“Lord Lothair, may I assist?” He offers, his arm reaching across me, hand open to take the cup. Father hesitates but then hands the cup over. Having trouble staying upright in my seat, I slump heavily to the side, leaning on father's shoulder. I’m only vaguely aware that conversation has ceased and that I am the center of attention. I can’t focus.

Lycur sniffs the wine, his nose moving in an unnatural manner, his senses alert. A dark brow arches as he has a small sip of the wine. He lets the flavour swill around his mouth before spitting it out violently on the floor beside him.

“It’s poisoned; she needs to purge it now.” He yells, standing up before anyone can move or process what he has said. Pushing his chair back with a thump, he hoists me over his shoulder and runs from the hall, through the castle all the way down to the garden. I hear Father yell to let him pass and the sound of feet running behind us, but Lycur is too quick, his Lupinel speed makes him hard to follow.

The heat is all consuming, burning in a way I have never experienced before. I am jostled about like a rag doll as he runs with me over his shoulder, my sight, coming and going and my stomach rolls dangerously. I can’t think. The fire is raging inside my head, putting a red haze on everything.

Bursting out into the cool night air at a speed that can’t be measured, Lycur drops me to the ground without a second thought and sticks two fingers roughly down my throat.

It hurts.

My eyes water and my gag reflex come violently into action, he flips me onto my side as I vomit my meal all over the ground. My fire is building in me, a natural defense against threat.

It’s going to explode.

“Do it again!” He orders, his voice terrible and loud. I put my fingers in my mouth, forcing my stomach to heave over and over again until there is nothing left to expel. Fire licks across my skin and the heat takes over, but I am too weak to hold it back. Lycur moves in to comfort me.

“No!” I put my hand out to ward him off just as the flames burst from my fingers unchecked. Angry red-hot flames travel rapidly down my arm; the poison is being burned from my body in a fiery display.

I can’t stop it.