Shadow of the Moon

Chapter 6

Kyros

Tenebris? This female, who was broken and bloodied, who managed to outrun Cara, was from the realm of darkness? My mind reeled. I could practically see Atlas's face, contorted in a mask of fury and disbelief. She had bared her teeth and growled at him, as if she had no fear of the imposing stature of my brother.

I braced myself for the inevitable torrent of reprimands, the lectures on duty and responsibility, the threats of punishment. I, a prince of Eloria, caught aiding a citizen of their sworn enemy? The consequences could be severe. I shuddered at the oncoming rage if father ever found out about this.

And those howls... They were unmistakable. The deep, guttural bellows that echoed through the world, vibrating the sand and stone. Only two beings could have emitted those sounds, King of Tenebris or his son. They were legendary figures; their power and ferocity whispered in hushed tones throughout Eloria. What was this female's connection to them?

A wave of protectiveness washed over me, surprising in its intensity. This female, Estella, was clearly terrified, injured, and alone. Despite the danger, despite the potential consequences, I couldn't bring myself to abandon her.

I glanced at Estella, her fragile form a stark contrast to the harsh landscape surrounding us. Her clothes were torn, her skin bloodied, her eyes wild with adrenaline. Who was she? Why was she here?

"I'll head back to the castle," Atlas announced, his gaze fixed on the distant silhouette of the fortress. "Make sure no one comes snooping around. The last thing we need is for the King to find her here." He clapped me on the shoulder, a rare gesture of affection that betrayed his underlying concern. "Be careful, brother."

With a final nod, Atlas turned and strode away, his long strides quickly carrying him across the sandy terrain. I watched him go, a knot of apprehension tightening in my stomach. He was right. If our father discovered Estella, there would be hell to pay.

I turned to Estella, who stood silently beside me, her gaze fixed on the distant border, the magic boundary a black smudge in the sky. "Can you walk?" I asked softly.

She only nodded, swaying on her feet.

"Come on," I said gently. "The breeding pits are this way." It was the safest place I could think of for her to cross. Hopefully, Atlas could intercept our father and brother before they got too close. No one but Wrioron riders dared enter the guarded grounds, especially when Cara was on duty. She was the largest and the most prejudice to outsiders.

We walked in silence, our footsteps near silent on the soft sand as we scaled the side of the ravine. The air was thick with the scent of dust and the faint, metallic tang of her blood. Estella's shoulders were hunched, her head bowed, her entire body radiating tension.

Her breaths were shallow sounded like a wet wheeze as she struggled to keep up with my long strides. I noticed her unease, her gaze darting nervously towards the shadows that stretched long and menacing in the afternoon sun.

"What's wrong?" I asked softly. "Do you need a second?"

"I am fine," she hissed, her voice thick with pain. "I am worried about Cara." Estella began, her voice hesitant. Caras name sounded strange on her tongue, when she spoke, she had a thick accent that twisted the familiar language to something other. I had heard the traces of a similar accent on my mother when she was particularly upset, but it was nowhere near as strong as Estella’s.

"Will it not return? This is its territory, is it not?" She turned to look at me, her purple eyes studying me intently.

I chuckled, a warm, genuine sound that surprised even myself. Something inside my chest warmed. Everyone else in Eloria referred to the Wrioron as wild beasts, yet this female who had run from a pissed-off Cara didn't treat her like a monster. Merely an agitated animal.

I studied Estella, taking in her slender frame and delicate features. She was petite, barely reaching my shoulder, her limbs slender and graceful. I could see the faint outlines of muscles beneath her torn clothes, but they were the muscles of a dancer, not a warrior.

Her skin, pale as moonlight, seemed almost translucent in the harsh desert sun. She was a creature of shadows, a delicate flower out of place in this harsh and unforgiving landscape.

"She won't bother us," I said gently, a small smile tugging at my lips. "She's just a little protective of the pits."

“What manner of creature is she?” Estella asked, her eyes searching the horizon, as if she expected Cara to appear.

“She's a Wrioron.” I answered, “They're magnificent creatures,” I said, my voice filled with pride. “They're incredibly strong, fast, and loyal. They're also quite intelligent, and they form strong bonds with their riders." I paused, a mischievous glint in my eyes. “Though they can be a bit temperamental at times.”

Estella's lips curved into a small smile, the first genuine one I had seen from her. It transformed her face, illuminating her features with a soft, ethereal glow. “She seemed quite fond of you,” she said, her voice soft.

“Cara and I have a special bond,” I replied, my voice filled with affection. “We've been together since she was a hatchling. She's my partner, my friend.”

“I assured her you weren't a threat,” I continued, turning back to Estella. “You'll be safe around her, I promise.” Her lips tipped up into an almost sad smile as I spoke.

“What’s that look?” I asked, gently nudging her with my elbow, careful not to unbalance her.

“You speak of her like one from my world,” She said with a sigh. “I wasn’t aware that people of Eloria respected nature in that manner,”

“It’s a bond of respect and love, I know that sounds cheesy,” I said, remembering how I came across her nest. “When she was a hatchling, her brood was attacked and eaten by a Phailel,” At her bunched brows I explained, “Large birds that some have taken to riding,” she nodded. “I managed to intervene, but not before all her siblings were eaten and she was injured. I nursed her back to health. She trusts me, and I trust my life with her,” I said, sadness eating away at me at the memory.

Curiosity got the better of me and I asked. “Does Tenebris... have creatures like the Wrioron? Creatures you tame to ride?” She tilted her head, studying me with renewed interest.

Estella's brow furrowed in thought. “We have similar creatures, the Drakon," she replied slowly, the words coming out hesitantly, “but they are untamed beasts who listen to none but their own. Their fiery breath and sharp claws are a formidable foe.”

I studied her, even with the dust and grime streaking her face. The faint flush of sunrash highlighting her pale skin, she was captivating. Her long, snow-white hair, was tangled and matted with a mixture of blood, sweat, and sand.

Yet, it only seemed to enhance her ethereal beauty. Her vibrant purple eyes, sparkling with an inner light, held a depth and intelligence that belied her delicate features. I was still amazed that this seemingly fragile female had managed to outrun Cara.

"Our people mainly ride the Haccu," she explained, her voice soft yet steady.

“Haccu?” I asked, unfamiliar with the creature.

“They are sacred to us. The honor of becoming a Haccu rider if great. They are actually the symbol of the royal house,” She said, her tone full of pride. “They are large wolves that can climb trees and race silently through the forest,” She paused, her gaze drifting towards the black streak in the sky. “We begin training around thirteen, and those who pass the final trials at sixteen go out to the Haccu den and bond with those willing.”

Was she thinking of her own Haccu, waiting for her back home? The thought sparked a pang of sympathy within me. I couldn't imagine being separated from Cara, especially not in such a dangerous and unfamiliar environment.

“Have you gotten your Haccu yet?” I asked, my curiosity piqued. I watched her closely, my brow furrowing as her jaw tightened, and a shadow seemed to pass over her vibrant purple eyes.

“No,” she replied, her voice tight with emotion. She looked away, her gaze fixed on the dusty ground. “I'll be fifteen in two weeks, but... I'm not permitted to become a rider.” The words hung heavy in the air, laden with a sadness that I could almost taste.

I instantly regretted my question. “Estella, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend," I began, but was cut off by the whimper that escaped her lips.

Her steps faltered as she clutched at her side, her breath coming in ragged gasps. I instinctively reached out as her legs buckled. If I hadn't caught her when I did, she would have crumpled to the ground. Her weight was totally against me as I held her up, her breathing ragged.

“Estella,” I said, tilting her head up so I could see her face. Her eyes were clouded with pain as she stared up at me, her skin was ashen. Then, a faint smile played on her lips.

“I may not be a rider, but that doesn't stop me.” A mischievous smile curved her lips. “We have plenty of other beasts in Tenebris that would kill you in a heartbeat, but nothing I can't handle.”

I couldn't help but chuckle at her seemingly nonchalant attitude about the fact that she could barely stay on her feet. “You're tough, I’ll give you that,” I said, my voice filled with admiration. “Not many could manage to outrun Cara while injured.”

But my amusement was quickly replaced by concern as I noticed the beads of sweat forming on her forehead, the way her grip on my arm tightened.

“Estella,” I said softly, “you're hurt badly. You’re not going to make it to the border.”

She tried to protest, but I could see the pain etched on her face, the exhaustion weighing her down.

“It's alright,” I reassured her, my voice firm but gentle. “I’m not saying we need to head back, I promised to get you home.”

I swept down, my arm cradling her back as my other one found the backs of her legs and I carefully lifted her into my arms, cradling her close to my chest. She was surprisingly light, her body delicate and fragile in my embrace. I could feel the warmth of her skin against mine, the rapid beat of her heart against my chest.

I started walking, my steps purposeful and determined as I started towards the ever-growing dark streak in the sky.

“You should visit Tenebris sometime.” Her voice was soft as she rested her head against my chest.

A warmth bloomed in my chest at Estella's words, at the playful invitation in her eyes. If only she knew how impossible that was. I couldn't imagine a prince of Eloria ever setting foot in the shadowed realm, let alone being welcomed there. But the thought, the mere possibility, sent a thrill through me.

I found myself captivated by her smile, the way it lit up her face, revealing the delicate curve of her cheekbones and a dimple that deepened on her right cheek. I could trace the lines of her face, the delicate arch of her eyebrows, the curve of her lips, and still discover new details, new nuances with every glance.

“I'll show you the real way to tame a Haccu,” she continued, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “How to run with the Bresag.”

“I might just have to take you up on that,” I replied, my voice a playful echo of her own. I watched as her smile softened, a fleeting expression of longing, perhaps, or a hint of something deeper, crossing her face.

“I think I know of the Bresag,” I said, eager to keep the conversation flowing. “We have a similar creature in Eloria, the Grarolu. One nearly made me its lunch once.” The memory flashed before my eyes: the massive golden desert cat, its hooked claws raking across my chest, the searing pain, the metallic tang of blood.

I was aware of where her head rested against my chest, right atop the still evident scar that those claws had left. “Those are intense creatures,” I added, a shiver running down my spine. If Cara hadn't intervened, I wouldn't be here now.

“On my birthday, in exactly nine days,” Estella declared, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I will be looking through the woods for the most dangerous creature I can find and shall tame it.” She threw me a sideways glance, a playful smile curving her lips. “Assuming my father doesn’t lock me in my rooms until I turn 300,” she laughed.

I swallowed at the joke, 300 years old? I forgot just how long the fae lived, being around humans that aged fast and lived a fraction of the time has skewed my perception of life. I wondered if I would reach 300; it was unknown how long those with mixed blood lived, and they typically were killed in battle.

A low growl sounded in the close distance and Estella stiffened in my arms, her head snapping up. She sucked in a sharp breath as she wiggled in my arms until she was once again on her feet. She let out a soft whimper as we walked closer, my arm a crutch around her waist.

I was so enveloped in speaking with Estella that I hadn't realized how close to the border we had gotten. I followed her gaze to find two figures cloaked in darkness standing on this side of the boundary. As we got closer, the figures became more distinguishable against the backdrop of darkness.

Standing there, was an older male with short-cropped white hair and pale skin. Next to him was a younger male, probably close to Atlas's age. The young male had medium-length black hair tied back into a top knot with matching pale skin.

Both males possessed pointed ears, and I knew if they bared their teeth that sharp canines would peek through. What caught my attention the most was their eyes. Both males had vibrant purple eyes, just like Estella's.

Beside me, Estella let out a choked noise and took off running. She threw herself into the arms of the older male, who immediately crushed her to him, burying his face in her hair. This was unmistakably her father; the other must be her brother.

"A-pa," Estella's voice was muffled against her father's chest. I wasn't familiar with the term, but the tenderness in her voice was unmistakable. It must be how they addressed their fathers in Tenebris. I watched as the older male's body stiffened slightly, his grip tightening on Estella.

"My dove," her father murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He pulled Estella back, his gaze sweeping over her injuries with a mixture of love and fury. I saw silver line both their eyes as they looked at each other, a single tear falling from her fathers aged face. A pang of longing resonated in my chest. I had never experienced that kind of bond with my own father.

With a conflicted sigh, I bowed deeply at the waist, a gesture of respect.

"You must be Estella's father; my name is Kyros Trev—" I began, extending a hand in greeting. But before I could finish, a blur of motion erupted from beside the older male. A clawed hand clamped around my throat, cutting off my words and lifting me off the ground. The claws, sharp as daggers, dug into my skin.

My eyes widened in shock. Clawed hand?