Shadow of the Moon

Chapter 22

Kyros

Three days have passed since my return to the castle; a day filled with simmering rage and barely suppressed grief. I had managed, through sheer force of will, to keep my distance from Raedon, my fingers itching to unleash the fire that burned within me.

After the explosive confrontation in the throne room, I had stormed off, my footsteps echoing through the silent corridors. I found my old chambers untouched, the bed neatly made, the furniture free of dust. The servants, loyal to my mother, had clearly maintained the room in my absence, a small act of defiance against the King's over taking of the castle. But the familiar space felt alien now, the silence oppressive, the air thick with the ghosts of the past.

I hadn't intended to lose my temper, but the moment Raedon mentioned Estella, a wave of fury washed over me. I could see her face, stained with her sister's blood and tears, her eyes filled with a terror that mirrored my own helplessness. The memory of that day, of the brutal attack on the Tenebrian royals, ignited a rage within me that I could barely contain.

Only my mother's intervention had prevented me from unleashing my full wrath upon Raedon. Her calming touch, her whispered words of patience and justice, had been the only thing that held me back from tearing my brother apart with my bare hands.

The memory of that confrontation still burned within me, a constant reminder of my helplessness, my inability to protect those I cared about. Raedon had blamed the Tenebrian for Kaelen's death, a blatant lie designed to further inflame tensions between our worlds. I knew I had to do something to counter those lies, to expose the truth.

I strode purposefully towards the breeding pits, eager to see Cara, to feel the comforting presence of my loyal companion. I had tried each day to come out here and each day I was pulled into yet another meeting with the council. The councilmen were eager to get my approval on various issues that seem to have been ignored in the five years since my mother and I left. It was all worth it when I saw the look on Pheonix’s face at the councils disregard for him in my presence.

As I neared the pits, a familiar figure emerged from the shadows, blocking my path. Atlas stood before me, his broad shoulders and imposing physique casting a long shadow in the morning sun. His face was etched with a familiar brooding intensity, his eyes dark and unreadable.

He hadn't changed much in the five years I had been away, still the stoic warrior, the dutiful son. Though his eyes held a weight behind them, akin to the warriors who have seen battle that reside at my grandfathers palace.

“Atlas,” I greeted, slowing my pace as I approached my brother. I offered a playful smile, but his eyes held a hint of caution, a flicker of wariness that betrayed his inner turmoil. “Good to see that brooding face of yours hasn't changed.”

I clapped Atlas on the shoulder, a gesture of brotherly affection that I hoped would be reciprocated. But his body remained stiff, his response hesitant.

Atlas didn't flinch at my touch, nor did he return the gesture. His expression hardened, and a deep furrow appeared between his brows. "What are you doing so close to the border, Kyros?" he growled, his voice low and laced with suspicion. "These grounds are forbidden."

He stepped closer, his gaze fixed on mine, as if searching for any hint of deception. Ever the vigilant soldier, the loyal guardian of Eloria, Atlas took his duties seriously, even when it meant questioning his own blood.

My smile faltered, and a flicker of disappointment crossed my face. I had hoped for a warmer welcome, a moment of brotherly camaraderie after five long years apart. But Atlas, it seemed, was as guarded and suspicious as ever.

“We haven’t seen one another in five years brother, and you stand there acting live I have committed treason,” I said, tilting my head studying his tense posture. At his silence I sighed, my voice taking on a defensive edge. “Since when?” I asked, my voice tight. Atlas’s arms were crossed at his chest, his biceps straining against the sleeves of his tunic, yet he remained silent.

My jaw clenched and my eyes narrowed as I stepped up to my brother. "The only thing I'm looking for is the truth," I said, my voice firm and resolute. “And I won't stop until I find it.” I paused; my gaze bored into Atlas's.

“Are you going to help me? Or are you going to stand in my way?” I asked, flashing teeth. Atlas was a few inches taller than me and had more bulk muscle, yet I stepped into his space. My eyes locked onto his in challenge, it was a move he had never seen me make before. I had always yielded to him in our sparing matches, but this time I would not back down.

I could see the surprise in Atlas's eyes, the flicker of uncertainty that betrayed his usual stoicism. He had always been the dutiful son, the loyal soldier, following orders without question. But now, faced with my defiance, with my unwavering determination, he seemed unsure, his loyalty to his father clashing with the bond we shared as brothers.

He had always seen me as the carefree younger brother, the one who shirked responsibility and preferred the company of beasts to the complexities of court. But something had changed.

He hesitated, his gaze searching mine, as if trying to decipher the depths of my transformation. The silence stretched between us, the tension palpable. After a while he backed up a step, his eyes shifting away from mine in submission.

With a swift movement, I moved past him and strode to the border. My footsteps were firm and resolute. I could feel Atlas's eyes on my back, his hesitation palpable. But I didn't stop, couldn't stop. I didn’t care if he followed me or not. I had to get to the border, had to see for myself what was so off limits.

After a moment, I heard his footsteps behind me.

We walked in silence, the air thick with unspoken tension. My gaze darted around, taking in the familiar landscape, now scarred and altered. The once bustling breeding pits were gone, replaced by a barren expanse of sand, the only reminder of their existence the faint scent of Wrioron musk lingering in the air. A knot of unease tightened in my stomach.

"What happened here?" I demanded, my voice sharp with suspicion. I stopped abruptly, my eyes fixed on the twisted barrier of thorns that now choked the border. It was a grotesque mockery of the natural beauty I remembered, a symbol of the violence that had poisoned our world. I drummed my fingers impatiently against a nearby boulder, sparks of fire dancing around my knuckles, a testament to the anger simmering within me. "And no lies, Atlas."

"Cara is gone," Atlas said, his voice heavy with regret. "No one knows where she went. Raedon chased her off with Ferro." He shuddered, remembering the sight of the massive bird, its eyes burning with a predatory gleam. The creature was a reflection of its rider, a cruel and merciless beast.

"Father had all the Wrioron chased off," he added, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Why?" I snarled, taking a step towards Atlas. My fists clenched, my knuckles white, and my eyes blazed with a fiery intensity. The air around me crackled with the barely contained power of my magic. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. The King had banished the Wrioron, the creatures that were so essential to our way of life, our very survival in the harsh desert. What madness had gripped him?

“Why would Phoenix have them chased off?” I asked again. The Wrioron were a tool that was useful to maintaining power, their riders offering a ground force to rival the areal force of the Phailel.

Atlas hesitated before speaking and when he did my blood turned to an inferno. I listened in silence as Atlas recounted the events of that fateful day. My blood boiled as I heard about the attack on the Tenebrians, the King's callous indifference, Raedon's brutal cruelty. I pictured Estella, her face pale with fear, her eyes filled with despair, and my heart ached with a helpless rage.

When Atlas described how Raedon had hurt Estella, how he had dared to touch her, I erupted.

A torrent of fire burst from my hands, the flames leaping skyward, scorching the dry desert air. I roared, a primal sound of fury and anguish that echoed across the desolate landscape. The ground beneath my feet cracked and smoldered, and the air shimmered with the intensity of my magic. I was a wildfire unleashed, my grief and rage consuming me.

The fire was white and blazing, so hot that the sand began to melt and scorch around me. Atlas watched in alarm, the raw power on display unlike anything he had ever seen from me. He waited for the outburst to subside, waiting for the ground to cool enough for him to approach.

Finally, my fire subsided, leaving behind a trail of smoke and the lingering scent of burnt earth. My chest heaved, my breath coming in ragged gasps, steam billowing from my mouth with each exhale. "Kaelen?" I whispered, my voice hoarse with emotion. The thought of my little brother, hurt or worse, filled me with a dread I couldn't shake. The ground gleamed with chunks of melted sand turned to glass.

"I don't know what truly happened," Atlas admitted, his voice heavy with regret. "I wasn't there after he left the throne room. By the time I caught up, he was gone. Raedon claimed Estella..." He paused, watching my reaction.

"Estella?" I snarled, my voice thick with a mixture of anger and fear. I took a step forward, my fists clenching. The thought of Estella harming anyone, let alone Kaelen, was inconceivable. But the seed of doubt, planted by Raedon's lies, took root in my mind, twisting my gut with worry.

"Raedon claimed she killed Kaelen," Atlas continued, his gaze fixed on the ground. "But I saw how she looked at him, Kyros. She couldn't have."

"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, the fire in my eyes dimming.

"She looked at Kaelen..." Atlas hesitated, searching for the right words. "She looked at him the same way you looked at him."

I knew in my heart she couldn't have taken Kaelen's life. A fresh wave of grief and anger surged through me, but this time, it was tempered with a fierce determination. I needed to find Estella. It was the whole reason for my return. I needed her.

I turned to Atlas, my face a mask of grief and rage. Kaelen's death, the likelihood that Raedon had framed Estella, had unleashed a torrent of emotions within me. I felt a tremor run through my body, and my vision blurred.

I crumpled to my knees, my hands digging into the scorched sand, sending plumes of burnt earth swirling around me. A choked sob escaped my lips, a raw, guttural sound that tore through the silence of the desert.

I had always been the fiery one, the impulsive one, the one who acted without thinking. But now, faced with the consequences of my actions, of my family's betrayal, I felt a profound sense of helplessness. I was adrift in a sea of sorrow, my flames extinguished, my spirit broken.

The sand, still hot from my earlier outburst, clung to my skin, a gritty reminder of the harsh reality I now faced. I closed my eyes, tears tracing a path down my cheeks, mingling with the dust and grime. I had lost so much. My brother. Even my future was out of my reach, locked behind the thorns and brambles.

The ground crunched as Atlas knelt beside me, ash and soot raising in the air as his knees hit the burnt sand. His hands gripped my shoulders in comofrt. It was a rare display of affection from my stoic brother. I leaned into the touch, drawing strength from his presence.

But then, a prickle of awareness ran down my spine, a sensation like a tender brush against my skin. I felt a chill, a sudden coldness that seemed to emanate from the shadows beyond the border. And then, I smelled it. A faint, yet unmistakable scent of lavender and pine, a fragrance that sent a jolt of recognition through me.

Estella.

My heart leaped in my chest, a surge of hope and longing flooding my senses. Could it be? After all this time, after the pain and loss, could she be here?

I turned towards the impenetrable wall of thorns, my gaze piercing the darkness that lay beyond. A sudden warmth spread through me, a tingling sensation that danced across my skin like a lover's caress. I inhaled sharply, her scent reaching me, a whisper on the wind, stirring a deep longing within my soul. Was she there?

My eyes strained against the gloom, searching for any sign of her, any movement in the impenetrable darkness. And then I saw them. Two glowing violet orbs, like tiny stars caught in the tangle of thorns, pulsed with a soft, ethereal light. They seemed to beckon me, to whisper my name, to promise a reunion that defied the boundaries of our worlds.

My heart ached with a mixture of hope and despair. I longed to reach out, to push through the thorns, to find her, to hold her, to assure myself that she was real, that she was safe. But the barrier was impenetrable.

I closed my eyes, savoring the scent of her, the phantom touch of her presence. Even if it was just an illusion, a trick of my yearning heart, I would cherish this moment, this fleeting connection that offered a glimmer of hope in the darkness that surrounded me. But as quickly as it had come, the sensation vanished. My eyes snapped open as the lights faded, the scent dissipated, and the warmth retreated, leaving me alone in the scorching, desolate landscape.

Finally, Atlas cleared his throat, breaking the oppressive silence. "What was that?" he asked, his voice low and cautious.

I blinked, startled by the sound of his voice. "What was what?" I asked, my voice hoarse.