Excerpt

Chapter 1

Luka didn’t paint a pretty picture in the early hours of the morning. He hadn’t even made it to his bed before succumbing to sleep. Instead, he lay slumped across his desk, face pressed into the open pages of the tome he’d been studying long past the point of normal endurance. His left hand was thrust out before him, a finger trapped inside the closed pages of another book as a makeshift bookmark. Even more books surrounded him, piled precariously close to the edge of his desk.

Excessive, some might say, though Luka would hardly agree. He was the personal scholar and advisor to the Kingdom of Light’s rulers! He held the important responsibility of studying those records of history to better serve the king and his kingdom. It was a role he would never take lightly; never would he forget where he’d come from.

Luka’s parents had died when he was quite young, leaving only his aged tutor to care for him. Then, only twelve years old when his tutor died, Luka could easily have found himself alone on the streets, left to fend for himself. But mercy had found him instead. His tutor had once advised King Cahya on important issues before poor health and age had forced his retirement, earning him a great deal of respect with the king, and before his death, the kind old man had appealed the king to rescue his charge.

And so King Cahya had done just that, respecting an old man’s dying wish and meeting a young boy’s plight with compassion. From that moment on, Luka had been ushered into the castle to live with the royal family, given a home and a purpose in life. And the king, though a ruler and Luka’s liege, had filled the vast and painful void of a paternal figure in his life.

Even still, the transition hadn’t been easy at first. King Cahya’s son, Prince Kalmali, despised Luka from the start. An only child and his father’s heir, he didn’t take well to his father’s attentions being diverted to another young boy. That he and Luka were complete opposites didn’t help things either.

Luka’s greatest love was studying, whereas Prince Kalmali lived for action and training. His greatest ambition was to lead the country into war and prove himself the greatest victor throughout the Light’s history. He saw no need for a “bookworm” such as Luka. As he’d grown older, Prince Kalmali had learned to put on a more polite front, exactly as society and his position demanded, but still his eyes always showed his disdain for Luka.

Luka snorted lightly in his sleep and started to wake up. He stared fuzzily at the sight of his finger trapped within the pages of the book before him when loud pounding on his door made him jump. He whipped his hand back just as clarity reached him, just in time to realize he’d lost his place. “Ah, damn,” he muttered to himself, hastily fumbling with the book to try and catch the faint gap in the pages, still bent from long hours wrapped around his finger.

“Luka!” called a voice from outside his door. The pounding continued.

After carefully reopening the old book, Luka rubbed at his tired eyes and stretched his tight back muscles as he made his way to the door. It was far too early for such commotion. He fumbled with the handle and finally wrenched the door open. “Yes! What? What do you want?” he muttered tiredly.

A force of energy that was, in fact, a young woman breezed past him into the room, dragging him along in her wake with a grip on his upper arm as she slammed the door shut. “Wake up sleepy head, I’ve got something exciting to tell you!”

Luka stared bemusedly at the figure in front of him: his best friend, Javena, Ambassador to the Realm of Fire. He cleared his throat and moved to straighten up his desk. “What could be so exciting this early in the morning?” Even as he feigned indifference, he braced himself. Vena wasn’t much of an early bird; if she was awake this early, it must be important. But who was he to resist teasing her a bit?

Vena ignored his demeanor and instead sat a plate of bread and cheese down on the other side of his desk. “The Kingdom of Light has a very special guest this morning,” she said casually.

Luka resisted the urge to move the food away from his precious books. “Really? Who’s so special?”

Vena bit into a hunk of cheese and smirked at him. “The crown prince of the Realm of Darkness himself. A man called Mavra.”

Luka’s eyes snapped to Vena, all lightheartedness gone. Surely she was teasing him. No one from the Realm of Darkness had made themselves known to the Kingdom of Light for years now, much less the heir to the throne! But there was no mistaking the sincerity in her eyes. “Are you serious?” he whispered, excitement blossoming in his chest.

“Mmmhmmm.” She ate some bread with the cheese. “The court is assembling as we speak, and Prince Kalmali is preparing to receive him.”

The blossoming excitement exploded in a rush. This was Luka’s moment, the moment he’d been awaiting his whole life! Much of his studies had been attempting to learn more about the Realm of Darkness—more specifically, the long-established rift between the Dark and the Light. Sadly, though, few records remained anymore.

The Realm of Darkness had fallen out of favor with the Kingdom of Light a long time past, and someone had apparently decided it best to purge almost all of the Light’s information on their neighbor and their combined history. Luka had only been able to locate a few texts with information, but all were poorly kept and falling apart, in such utter disarray that he spent more time reconstructing and restoring the documents than actually reading them.

Most of the Light’s citizens subscribed to the belief that the Realm of Darkness had always been traitorous people from the beginning and that the alliance they’d once shared with the Light had never been strong, but Luka disagreed. There was evidence, especially in his latest discoveries, that suggested that the Light and the Dark had been powerful allies that worked well together, even more so than with any of the other four elemental kingdoms divided across the continent.

Despite the broken alliance between the two nations, Luka could find nothing that specifically stated that the Dark had betrayed them. But people didn’t want to believe that such opposites could work together—exactly how people refused to believe that the Kingdom of Fire and the Realm of Water could work well together or the Kingdom of Earth and the Realm of Wind. Luka wanted to prove them all wrong.

Recently, Luka had even approached King Cahya with his theories and findings, and he’d hoped to soon propose seeking an audience with the Realm of Darkness for an opportunity in cooperative learning. And now here was a resident of the Dark—the prince himself—delivered right to him! He had to talk to him.

Luka hastened around his room, grabbing scattered articles of clothing and his boots while also trying to eat a hunk of the bread Vena had brought, his appetite awakened by the adrenaline surging through his system. All the while, Javena looked on with fond amusement, casually leaning against the wall by his bedroom door. “Excited much, Luka?” she snarked with a raised eyebrow.

“Not the time, Vena,” Luka grumbled, his voice muffled by the shirt he was fighting to put on. He struggled a moment more, arms flailing above his head as he tried in vain to wriggle into the form-fitting shirt. “Oh for pity’s sake, help me!” he finally wailed miserably.

Chuckling, Javena sauntered forward and reached up to tug the shirt over his head and down his body. It hugged his lean frame smoothly, the snug sleeves ending in ornate cuffs just above his graceful hands. Vena playfully pinched one of his cheeks and sighed wantonly as she fussed with his hair. “Every single day you make me lament the tragedy that I’m not your fancy. Most girls would be sad to know you’re not interested in them, I imagine.”

Luka blushed furiously and glanced hastily at his door, which thankfully was completely closed. “Don’t say things like that.”

Javena rolled her eyes. “Why not? It’s the truth. And it’s not illegal; this isn’t the Realm of Water, with all that purity bullshit. I don’t know why you don’t just make it public and get yourself some nice man candy,” she implored.

Luka finished tying his boots. “I’ve already told you, I don’t know how King Cahya or Prince Kalmali would feel about it. Until I find someone I’m interested in, it’s my secret to keep if I want to. So please just drop it. If we don’t hurry,” he said briskly, pointedly changing the subject, “we’ll miss out on our unprecedented visitor. It’s not every day that someone from the Realm of Darkness decides to visit the Kingdom of Light, and I will not miss this.” He made for the door, but Javena grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Hey,” she said gently. “I hope you know I don’t mean anything malicious. I know you want to move at your own pace, and I respect that.” Her eyes were beseeching. “You’re just so adorable when you’re flustered.”

Luka huffed and gave a soft smile, pulling his friend into a warm hug. “I know, Vena. As my best friend, I honestly wouldn’t expect any less from you.”

Javena opened his bedroom door with a flourish and gave an exaggerated bow. “You’re so wise, young scholar. After you. Lead the way to our visitor.”

~~~

When he and Javena finally made it downstairs, Luka was surprised to see a number of courtiers present despite the early hour. Apparently, word had spread quickly, and many others were just as eager to see their unique guest. Luka had to chuckle at the overall haphazard appearance of the crowd. Given how many outfits looked as though they’d been selected in a slapdash manner, the majority of the court apparently had received no more warning than he had of their special guest.

Javena took her place with the other ambassadors at the side of the room, and Luka made his way to his seat near the king’s and prince’s thrones. His position was unique; because he was brought to the palace and given the title Royal Advisor, King Cahya had always included him as a member of the high court, granting him a seat of honor near the royal thrones.

Prince Kalmali already sat in his throne, back rigid, ever-present sour look on his face. The cold look only worsened as his eyes fell on Luka.

Luka sighed quietly. He didn’t understand why the prince loathed him so much even now. As a child, with his father’s attentions diverted, Luka could understand, but the king showed him no favoritism now that they were both adults, certainly not over his own son.

Even though he should have grown used to it after so many years, always being met with such disdain still stung Luka to his core. Perhaps if Luka had moved in earlier before Prince Kalmali had begun extensive grooming to take over as ruler someday? Or perhaps if the prince had been blessed with siblings before his mother had died tragically early? Luka shook his head, banishing such thoughts. Now certainly wasn’t the time to entertain “what ifs,” not with the imminent arrival of the prince of the Realm of Darkness.

“Good morning, Prince Kalmali,” Luka said politely with a deferential nod before he took his seat. Prince Kalmali nodded sharply in return, barely acknowledging him. Luka looked around the room, feeling troubled to see the king’s throne still empty. “Where is King Cahya? I’m surprised he’s not here yet.”

“My father won’t be coming,” Prince Kalmali replied curtly, finally looking directly at Luka. “He’s fallen ill.”

Luka frowned. The king had been perfectly fine the evening before. The last Luka had seen, King Cahya was pulling Prince Kalmali aside to speak with him in private. Luka had longed to be invited too, but he wasn’t of the royal family, and certain conversations were for the rulers alone, especially those regarding the art of rule.

To help with his role, Luka’s studies had been bolstered by private tutors, but they had primarily focused on education, history, and military strategy rather than on the finer points of ruling a kingdom. Luka’s job was to act as an advisor and to support King Cahya as he made critical decisions, followed one day by Prince Kalmali when he took the throne as well as any other subsequent rulers that he might see in his lifetime.

“I hope it isn’t serious,” Luka replied uneasily, though he knew it must be. A visit from anyone of import from any of the other elemental nations was uncommon in its own right, given the overall segregation between the elemental regions, much less the Realm of Darkness. Someone from the Dark…it was simply unheard of for time unmeasurable. Luka couldn’t imagine what would keep their king from receiving such a rare visitor himself.

When Prince Kalmali made no reply, Luka looked around the room, noting the naturally bright conditions, nary a shadow in sight, as was the way in their kingdom. Outside, the natural light in the sky never ceased, and inside, what couldn’t be illuminated through windows was kept alight with baubles of light spread through rooms, sustained with the magical abilities inherent within every citizen, just as it was with the respective elements of every citizen of every other elemental region.

Luka frowned in consideration. “Prince Kalmali,” he spoke again, “should we perhaps remove some of the additional lighting in deference to our guest? These conditions are surely much harsher than he’s used to from his home.”

Prince Kalmali turned an irritated eye on him. “It was his own decision to come here. He should know what to expect. I will not alter my home to accommodate an uninvited guest.”

Before Luka could decide whether to attempt a lecture on diplomacy, the lead servant of the royal household, a woman named Nova, entered the throne room, drawing the attention of all. “Your highness,” she began, giving a tight bow to Prince Kalmali, “may I please present Prince Mavra, son of King Ghadra, of the Realm of Darkness.”

As she finished speaking, two soldiers escorted the visitor into the room. The audience had a curious reaction, both moving to scurry out of the way but also craning their necks to better gawk at the man being led into the room.

Luka cast his gaze upon the man in question and felt his heart lurch curiously in his chest. The man was a sight to behold. Dressed all in black, he seemed to absorb all light that fell upon him into a deep void never to be seen again. His black pants fit tightly across his muscular thighs and pelvis, and his shirt was loose and billowy, with a deep V-neck that Luka practically had to wrench his eyes away from. The outfit certainly left little of his form—and strength—to the imagination.

The extreme darkness of his garments contrasted sharply with his deathly pale skin, as did his pitch-black hair, which swept across a noble forehead and charcoal gray eyes. Dark as he looked, though, Mavra seemed to hold no evil intent. The man’s gaze lingered briefly on Luka, and he was surprised to feel a warmth from that gaze that he’d never expected from anyone of the Realm of Darkness, much less from their royal family.

Legend described those of the Dark almost as walking nightmares. But Luka swallowed thickly while Mavra’s gaze shifted to Prince Kalmali, and he was forced to admit to himself, at least, that Prince Mavra was less of a nightmare and more of a dream.

~~~

To say that Mavra was nervous about walking into the Kingdom of Light’s throne room alone was a gross understatement. He was damn near petrified. But he had no choice. His kingdom was floundering: losing resources, losing trade agreements with the other kingdoms, losing hope. Repairing the long-destroyed alliance with the Kingdom of Light was the only way to revive it, short of instigating a war that would result in a hollow victory at best, one with such loss they might as well rule it a loss.

In the past, various members of his court had tentatively attempted to broach the topic of forging a new alliance with the Kingdom of Light, but they’d always been swiftly struck down. His predecessors had feared the unknown and unpredictable outcome of attempting to ally with those so ready to label them enemies.

But things were different now. Mavra’s father was weary of ruling under increasing adversity, and Mavra was done with watching his people and his kingdom suffer. Finally, he had the ability to try. Tentative inquiry by their ambassadors to their cohorts in other kingdoms and of the occasional merchant willing to come to the Dark had yielded the news that the current King of the Light was known for being moderate and wise, the exact type of king who might be willing to consider such an unprecedented request.

Mavra had to try. He couldn’t afford to fail. So when the herald entered the throne room to announce him, Mavra forced his shoulders back and his head high, holding himself firmly, determined not to show his nerves. Exhibiting confidence he didn’t quite feel, he strode through the door.

As he walked, he tried in vain to ignore the dull pain in his head and eyes from the intensity of the light, infinitely more powerful than the minuscule illumination found in his home country. At least he was able to see now, compared with the temporary blindness he’d suffered upon first crossing into the Light.

The crowd filling the room moved hastily out of his way, and Mavra had to hide a grimace at their sheer number. He’d hoped for a smaller audience, had even strategically arrived as early as socially acceptable to facilitate that, but apparently it was all for naught. It would seem that news traveled much more quickly in the Light than it did within the Dark. Their social customs were vastly different as well, the Light apparently content to allow the court to swarm with eager voyeurs at important meetings in a way that would never be tolerated in the Dark.

Multitude eyes crawled along every inch of his body, and a deafening thrum of whispers resounded in his ears—assaulted from every angle. It was unnerving, but he couldn’t really blame them. He knew a visitor from the Light in his home would probably have a similar welcome. To distract from the discomfort of being surrounded, he chose instead to look at those ahead, and immediately his gaze landed upon the most beautiful man he’d ever laid eyes on. Mavra only just managed to keep his feet moving without falter as he drank in the glorious sight.

The young man was close to his age, and he had warmly tanned skin the color of caramel and the pale blond, almost silver, hair that was common in the Kingdom of Light, his bound in a loose ponytail that draped over his shoulder. He was lithe and dressed in well-tailored cream pants and a shirt decorated with tasteful ornamentation. Doe-eyed with pouty lips, he had features that could soften even the most brutish of men. But it was his expression—kind and lightly curious—that felt like a light punch to Mavra’s heart. He hadn’t dared expect to see that from anyone there, and it filled him with warm relief.

The young man’s positioning and clothing meant he was obviously someone of rank. Mavra wondered if he was the Light’s prince, a young man named Kalmali, as he’d been informed by servants upon his arrival. Even as he hoped for that, though, he didn’t think so. The young man didn’t hold himself like royalty. Perhaps he is an advisor or an ambassador, he mused. Feeling a familiar stirring in his gut, Mavra hastily averted his eyes. Losing himself like that would not be welcome under any circumstance, and certainly not these.

Mavra’s gaze shifted to the next man, and he was caught off guard by the stark contrast between their expressions. This man was a little older and had cold eyes that seemed to already hold his judgment at the ready. As sure as if they’d met before, Mavra knew this must be Prince Kalmali.

An ill-boding feeling in his gut, Mavra shifted his attention again, eager to find the man he’d come to see, King Cahya of the Kingdom of Light. Instead, however, he found an empty throne. He clenched his teeth subtly. That certainly couldn’t be a good thing for him.

To ensure that it would be safe for him to attempt this at all, Mavra had taken an extremely cautious approach one week before today, sending correspondence directly to the king himself to ask to discuss terms of a potential alliance. The handful of days waiting for a reply had been nerve wracking, Mavra scared to death that such a seemingly innocent request would be enough to enrage the Light and cause them to unleash war against the Dark. But then an equally discrete reply had come, King Cahya cautiously expressing an interest in meeting with Mavra to discuss terms.

The letter had directed to come straight away to avoid any rumor spreading, a concern Mavra had agreed with wholeheartedly. And so, he’d first reported to his father and then hastened away, keen for this opportunity. Still…he surreptitiously eyed the crowded room once more and the empty throne. He’d hoped for a private meeting with the king, or at least one with fewer people privy initially. And now the king wasn’t even present; could something have happened to him in the few short days between their last correspondence?

Unbidden, the back of Mavra’s mind prickled with the fear that he may have been set up for betrayal, to be captured or assassinated. As the heir to the Dark throne, he would make a good target. But it also didn’t make sense. Every report he’d received about King Cahya had indicated a kind, wise, and fair man, and Mavra’s own assessment from the response he’d received was the same.

Taking a fortifying breath, Mavra finally stopped his steady approach through the crowd a few feet short of the dais where the thrones sat, mindful of the guards strategically placed nearby. His thoughts still swirling in his head, he waited to be addressed, knowing that he had to proceed with utmost caution.

The servant who had led him toward the thrones stepped aside and gestured grandly with her arms. “Mavra, Prince of the Realm of Darkness, you are addressing His Royal Highness Prince Kalmali of the Realm of Light, and Luka, Royal Advisor to the Rulers of the Light.”

So I was right: the prince and an advisor, Mavra thought, as he gave a slight bow to both men before him. He would be courteous, but not obsequious, to these people.

“So,” spoke the prince. “Prince Mavra of the Dark, come to grace us with his presence. Isn’t this a surprise.” His voice was even colder than his eyes had been and…it almost sounded as if he wasn’t surprised. “What brings you to us this morning?”

Mavra tried to ease the sinking feeling in his stomach. What had he gotten himself into? “Thank you for receiving me, your highness,” he said politely, one hand gripping the wrist of the other behind his back, a soldier’s stance adopted from years of training that helped him feel confident and at ease. “My father, King Ghadra, has sent me here to seek an alliance with the Light.”

The crowd behind him murmured loudly, the general thrum punctuated by a few sharp outcries in protest. Mavra had expected as such, but he kept his eyes on the men before him. Their reactions were the ones that mattered now. Prince Kalmali, he noted grimly, looked none too pleased with his statement. If the king had been true to his word, why wouldn’t he have shared it with his son? Luka, though, looked surprised but not immediately opposed. His eyes rapidly jumped between his prince and Mavra as if quickly assessing two sides before a fight.

“And why,” Prince Kalmali asked, ignoring everyone around them, “would the Light want to be allied with the Dark?”

Here we go, thought Mavra. “In days of old, the Dark’s strongest allies always were the Light, and vice versa. They can and should still be today,” he said firmly.

Prince Kalmali sneered at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Our records show no evidence of such a past alliance.”

Before Mavra could protest, Luka interjected. “That’s not entirely true, Kalmali. Remember, I’ve found evidence that our records are incomplete, and there are hints that—”

“Be quiet, Luka!” Prince Kalmali snapped. “No one asked you to speak. And you would do well to remember appropriate titles when addressing your betters,” he hissed.

Luka quailed slightly under Prince Kalmali’s aggression and refrained from speaking further, but his eyes belied his feelings. These were two men who did not get along.

Prince Kalmali lazily returned his attention to Mavra. “Even if we may have been allies in the past,” he began disdainfully, “what makes you think we need an alliance with you now? We’re the largest and strongest of the surrounding kingdoms. The others look to us for example,” he challenged smugly.

“We know your relations with the other Kingdoms aren’t as strong as they used to be,” Mavra answered cautiously. “Historically, the Light has given airs that they’re superior to the other kingdoms rather than one of six kingdoms on even ground. Your father has taken steps to remedy that, I believe, but significant damage has been done. The other nations—Fire, Water, Earth, and Wind—they’re tired of it.” He looked imploringly at both men, relieved to see that at least Luka didn’t look upset at his words. “Your army is strong, but not enough to defend yourself if any of them choose to retaliate. You need the support of another kingdom, and potentially even their army, to help you protect your kingdom.”

The surrounding outcry around was loud, the audience not appreciating the implication that their home was in danger, but Mavra had spoken the truth as garnered from the few informants they still had. Though the six elemental kingdoms were generally isolated from one another with extremely little intermixing of their people, trade was still necessary for survival, as was international relations. And the Kingdom of Light was falling onto dangerous ground.

Hundreds of years in the past, when the rift between the Light and Dark had been struck, the Light had come out on top, and those rulers at the time had become big-headed about it, swanning about and pushing the other kingdoms to follow their lead and deferring to their terms in trade agreements. For quite a time, they’d been successful, but discontent was growing, and unless the Light drastically modified their behavior or formed a strong alliance, it was only a matter of time before one or more of the other kingdoms pushed back.

“I see,” Prince Kalmali said, scoffing at his words. To his right, Luka looked hesitant, as if he had something to say but was afraid to speak up again. “And why do you wish for an alliance with us, then, if we are apparently in such dire circumstances?” He smirked in a self-congratulatory manner as the crowd around them guffawed.

Mavra suppressed a sigh of frustration. Clearly, he wouldn’t get anywhere with Prince Kalmali. Why wasn’t King Cahya present? Part of him wanted to just leave, but he couldn’t give up so easily. His people needed him to be successful. Shifting his gaze slightly, Mavra ensured that this time he addressed the seemingly more sympathetic Luka as well.

“We need trade,” Mavra said quietly. “Our trade agreements that were left after our countries’ dispute have largely dried up, and we have few resources of our own. As much as the other elemental kingdoms grow discontent with Light, they still defer to you, so few will openly trade with us because you won’t. Unfortunately, prejudices against the Dark still stand strong thanks to your propaganda back in the day.”

This was mostly true. Small-time merchants would still do business with them outside the scrutiny of their leaders, but the mass-level trade they needed to truly sustain their populations was currently withheld from them. Only the Kingdom of Earth came close, largely because their rulers cared more for profit than political games. As to how much longer that trade would last, that was anyone’s guess.

Luka met his gaze with sympathy and consideration. Mavra suspected that, as the advisor to the throne, he’d been groomed to support his prince’s eventual rise to the role of king, which meant he would study foreign relations and strategy. With any luck, he would know that Mavra spoke honestly. “What he says is the truth, Prince Kalmali,” Luka spoke quietly. “On both accounts. We should—”

“Silence yourself, Luka!” Prince Kalmali hissed once more. “You don’t know all that’s going on right now.”

Luka looked hurt, but closed his lips thinly once again as bidden.

Prince Kalmali glared down at Mavra. “I don’t know how the Dark could have the audacity to expect trust from us. Not when our own king, my father, is lying sick now, plagued with a disease caused by dark magic!”

Mavra couldn’t control his expression enough to mask his shock. “What?”

“You heard me,” Prince Kalmali said, as his soldiers pressed in closer on Mavra at their prince’s revelation. To his side, Luka looked horrified, apparently also out of the loop. “We found him ailing in his room this morning. We know you attacked him, targeted him!”

“We haven’t!” Mavra protested, eyes wide and darting with anxiety as the entire room turned against him. “Not unless it was someone rogue. You must let me see him.”

“Why? To let you finish the job? I think not.” Prince Kalmali rose from his throne, towering over Mavra even further.

“If he’s ill from dark magic, I can identify that for you. Or I can tell you if it’s something else that’s only meant to mimic dark magic,” Mavra persisted. He didn’t know who would have targeted the King of the Light, but he knew there was no official order from either himself or his father for such a thing, and he could think of no one who would dare take such an action on their own. Assassinating any foreign king would have devastating effects on the Dark, especially if their own magic was used, leaving ample evidence in the wake. Only an absolute fool would do something so artless.

Mavra furrowed his brow, studying Prince Kalmali further. Suspicions began forming in his mind. “I can help you save him,” Mavra insisted angrily as Prince Kalmali only sneered at him with a superior air. “If we wanted him dead,” Mavra growled, “we wouldn’t go through this whole song and dance,” he said, gesturing around the hall. “We would do it efficiently, and we wouldn’t linger through these games. We’re a straightforward people.”

“Hmph. Straightforward. The ever-deceptive Dark,” Prince Kalmali scoffed. “Guards, seize him.”

Mavra raised his arms and tried to cast defensive magic, but there were too many of them. He went down under a shower of light magic, biting back agonized cries as the powerful magic seared against the darkness at his core. His mind raced. The prince may just be pigheaded, but Mavra suspected differently. It didn’t make sense that the king would refrain from sharing his correspondence and planned meeting with Mavra with his son and heir. He couldn’t shake the thought that Prince Kalmali was setting the stage for a coup, using his visitor from the Dark as a scapegoat to throw off all suspicion.

Once Mavra was subdued, rough hands bound his own hands behind his back with heavy shackles. As they began dragging him away, Mavra struggled and again found Luka’s gaze, now torn between grief and anger. “Your people always say that dark obscures the truth and is deceptive,” he called, wincing under a blow to the back of his head. “You never stop to remember that light can burn so brightly it blinds the observer to the truth!” Mavra saw Luka’s eyes widen slightly before he then succumbed to unconsciousness as another blast of light struck him directly in the face.

~~~

Shocked, Luka watched the soldiers drag the unconscious Mavra from the receiving hall, his final words echoing in his mind: “You never stop to remember that light can burn so brightly it blinds the observer to the truth.” What had he meant by that? He’d looked directly at Luka when he’d said it, like it was meant specifically for him. It felt like…a warning.

Luka snapped out of it when Vena and the other ambassadors hurried over to him and Prince Kalmali. Anxiety surged in his chest. He wanted so badly to go check on King Cahya, but he had to do his job first. There were pressing matters at hand, and he couldn’t be absent from conversations to come. As he and the other officials gathered near the thrones, the guards herded the courtiers from the room, understand the importance for discretion. It was difficult, though, given their panic at the news of their king; Prince Kalmali had made a poor choice when revealing that so publicly.

“Your highness,” Luka said, trying to keep his voice calm, “maybe we should at least consider what Prince Mavra said. He is right about our situation, as far as the other kingdom’s opinions of the Light.”

Some of the ambassadors nodded in agreement with what Luka was saying, but Prince Kalmali waved him off with a dismissive hand.

Still, Luka persisted. “It’s something your father and I have been discussing frequently as of late. If the other kingdoms think to turn on us, we will need an ally to stand against them all, and the Dark might be the best ally.”

“Enough, Luka!” Prince Kalmali barked. “You’re a fool to even consider an alliance with such a traitorous lot. We all know they betrayed us years ago, that their actions led to the fracturing of the peace we once held. To open ourselves up to their treachery is foolish.”

Luka exhaled in exasperation. “But we don’t know that, Kalmali,” he said, slipping into casual address in his frustration. “Our old histories are incomplete, and our own historians would hardly have rushed to write their country in a negative light,” he pointed out.

“And even if they were the cause of the divide in our alliance,” Javena said, resting a supportive hand on Luka’s shoulder, “that was hundreds of years ago. We’ve been out of touch with them for a long time. Who’s to say that they aren’t sincere in this request?” she asked.

“I agree with Prince Kalmali,” another ambassador retorted. “They’re the Dark. They can’t be trusted.”

“But why would they send their prince, their only heir, alone if they weren’t sincere?” Luka countered. “That action carries tremendous risk.”

“Maybe you should go and take a look at your king,” Prince Kalmali growled. “Go and see what those monsters have reduced him to.”

Luka felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. Was he wrong? Had Mavra tried to assassinate the king, the man who was practically his father? Was it even wise to defend him?

Prince Kalmali turned to the soldiers standing around them. “Once their prince doesn’t return, the Dark will know we have him prisoner, and things will rapidly escalate into war. Post extra guards around the castle entrances and the borders of the city,” he instructed, pointing at a lieutenant. “The rest of you will come with me to my study. We must began making battle strategies.” He rounded on the ambassadors with a dangerous look. “As for all of you, if there really is any risk of dissension as our guest and advisor imply, then I suggest you start doing your jobs and repair those relationships. I’ll not have my country betrayed again.”

Luka’s head spun. Everything was moving so fast. Too fast. Everyone scrambled to carry out Prince Kalmali’s orders, no one pausing even a moment to question the sanity of them.

Javena gave Luka a helpless look but still rushed off with the rest of the ambassadors, eager to be away from the manic prince.

Desperate, Luka tried one more time. “Your Highness, please, let’s slow down for a moment. We need to think everything through.”

Prince Kalmali rounded on Luka and roughly grabbed his upper arms, and Luka was struck dumb by how intimidating Prince Kalmali had become in recent years. “Clearly, you haven’t the stomach for this sort of thing, little scholar,” Prince Kalmali said derisively, though he seemed to try to soften his tone. “I know you’ve never been to war and that must frighten you, but it is now a very real possibility. We must be prepared for it. I trust the Dark no further than I could throw that prince of theirs, and I will hear no more talk of an alliance. Now,” he said, pushing Luka back and releasing his arms, “go see to my father. Settle yourself, and come back to help with strategy only when you’ll be useful.” Then he spun on his heel, striding out the door with haste, leaving Luka all alone in the vast room.

Tears pebbled in Luka’s eyes, but he blinked them back. Now was not the time to lose control of his emotions. Prince Kalmali was overtaken by rage and blood lust, and he was setting them all on a collision course with the Dark. There had to be a better way to handle things, but until Prince Kalmali calmed down, there would be no talking to him. Better to just give him space and check on King Cahya. Besides, Luka needed to get his own head on straight too if he were to have any hope of derailing this mess.

Luka hastened from the room and down the hallways that led to the king’s chambers. He passed several servants on the way and also a few members of the court, sparing each a brief, polite hello—unwilling to throw away common courtesy, even in a crisis—but he had no time or energy beyond that for any of them. His king needed him.

Finally, he reached the man’s chambers and let himself in after a quiet knock. Inside, he found a young healer, one of the apprentices to the royal healer, kneeling next to the king’s bed. And in the bed, lay King Cahya, looking ghastly ill. His normally warm skin was unnaturally pallid, almost gray. His brow was also drenched in sweat, and his breathing was labored. Looking at him, it was obvious why dark magic was suspected; everything about his coloring and the very feel of him felt incongruous to the norms of the Light.

“Gods,” Luka whispered, coming forward to sit on the edge of the bed near his king. “What’s wrong with him?” he asked the young healer, barely keeping his voice steady as he brazenly took the king’s hand in his own. King Cahya had always been a symbol of strength and support to Luka ever since he’d brought him into his home and service. To see him so ill and weakened now was unbearably frightening.

“I’m not sure,” the young healer replied with a tremulous voice. “We’ve been separated from the Dark for so long, I have no experience at all with their magic or poisons. I…I don’t know how to deal with this,” he moaned miserably. “I’m honestly not even sure if it is caused by the Dark’s magic,” he admitted, “but I’ve never seen anything like this in what I’ve studied. I’m doing what I can, but without knowing what it is, I must tread carefully because I could accidentally kill him. We need Lucille. She knows so much more than I do.”

Lucille was the Royal Healer, an extremely aged woman who had been around forever and who selected and trained all other healers within the kingdom. She resided in the castle, so she was usually always easy to find. “Where is she?” asked Luka, surprised that she wasn’t already there.

“She was called away last night for an urgent case on our far borders,” the healer fretted. “I don’t know when to expect her back. Prince Kalmali sent word, but.…” He trailed off, clearly worried that Lucille would return too late.

Luka stared down at his king, his fear rapidly building within him now. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. He picked up a rag from the cool bowl of water setting on the nightstand and dabbed gently at King Cahya’s hot brow, trying his best to soothe him. As he stared down at the helpless man, anger began building in him. He wanted to hurt whoever had done this. He wanted to know why they would do this, why they would come after such a good and just man. And in such a cowardly way.

Pressing his lips tightly, Luka remembered Prince Mavra’s reaction to the news. He had seemed genuinely surprised to hear that King Cahya was ill. But could it have been a ruse? They knew nothing about him; perhaps he was a gifted actor and deceiver. But even still, if this really was dark magic, then Mavra should know how to counteract it. Luka rose to his feet with determination.

“Where are you going?” the apprentice asked.

“To talk to our guest,” Luka said tightly. “I’m going to see what he can tell me of this illness.” Then he strode from the room, making his way swiftly toward the dungeons.