Page 99 of The Nightmare Queen

an outcome known only through Sight.

Shadows stolen and shadows returned,

enter in the Age of the King with poison for blood."

Chills roll down my spin as she finishes that final sentence. “Extend out your wrist.” I do so voluntarily, knowing she will snatch it if I don’t. With a few words, magic coasts across my skin, the blood droplets raise from the rune that’s been on my wrist since that fateful night in her room. Merging together the droplet falls back onto my wrist, just under the original rune. A burn sears through my skin as a different marking brands itself onto me. I look up to see everyone in the room's serious faces.

“All hail, King Rorin.” They say together. I mutter the words to myself, a headache already forming from the fast progression of today's events. I have questions stampeding through my mind, starting with what the hell just happened and why it means I am now the King of Obsidian and ending with me whispering down the empty seal to her.

“Nightmare…you’re going to fucking kill me.”

The Battle of Vellar

Fourteen Years Earlier

Eiser

“Your Highness, we’ve rounded them up where you asked.”

I turn to look at the no name soldier, “and the ragroot?” I ask.

His lips thin into a flat line as he dips his head down in deference to me, “they’ve all received a dose.”Good. I think.

“Thank you…” I wave my hands around for him to fill in the space with his name.

“Percy, sir.”

I give him a nod, “thank you, Percy.” He stands there waiting for a dismissal. I give the signal with my hand as I leave the room and disappear down the corridor. My halls are filled with boisterous servants and soldiers finishing up whatever menial tasks they have left before going off to sleep, drink, fuck, or whatever it is my peasants and lower level citizens do in their spare time.

Dust makes my nose itch as I walk up the steep stairs to my son’s lessons room.SMACK!“Stupid boy!”

“Pl-please. I ca-can’t.”OOF!He crumples to the floor on his side as I enter into the room, the priest’s foot still raised and aimed for a second kick at the boy.

“You must be cleansed! Tainted, broken, cursed brat. Unfitto be king—”

I catch the wrist of the priest in my hand, stopping the next hit from landing. “Alright, Brighton. I need a moment with my son.”

His face heats as he sputters, “but, but Sire.”

“Out.” I command, waiting for him to slink out of the room and leave us.

Rorin looks up at me, the back of his hand wiping away the blood trickling from his mouth. I crouch down, taking his busted chin in between my fingers. He tries to yank it from my grip. “Look at me, boy.”

His eyes squeeze shut, refusing me, and I jerk his chin towards me again digging my thumb into where it’s split. “AH!” He yelps. “What do you want?” His words come out in a snarl, but the undertone to them is filled with defeat.

“I have a job for you.” I tell him, I let go of his chin and he falls back onto his elbows, wincing at the impact.

Slowly he stands himself up. His skin and clothes are torn. I can’t remember when I sent him up here maybe…five days ago? Who can keep track these days. “A-a job?” He stutters.

I dust my hands off, checking my skin for any evidence of his blood. “For you. For your Wield.” His eyes widen at the last word. “Do you want to make me proud?”

He limped the whole way, slowing us down, and annoying me greatly. “You-you said that you had a job for my Wield?” He mumbles.

“Rorin, I can’t understand you when you mumble. Speak up!” I snap.

“You said that you have a job for my Wield?” He says more clearly this time.

I look over my shoulder at him. “Yes, I need you to take care of a problem for me.” His brows are drawn tightly together, confusion clear in his eyes as he waits to see what that problem is. I bring him down through the lower courtyard. The light is already gone from the day, the night only growing darker under the cover of the trees.

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