Page 3 of Rising Out of the Darkness
Neither of them saw Alastor appear before he shoved his own sword deep into Keir’s back, through his chest, right next to his heart.
Elysians might be able to heal themselves and live for centuries, but some wounds they could not return from. This was one of them. Prince Keir’s eyes widened as he slumped down, sliding off the sword onto the stone floor. Panic danced across his features as he clutched his chest to stop the blood from flooding out of the wound.
Lenora released a scream of pure agony. “Gods, not my son! How could you!”
Keir’s body slid towards his mother, coughing blood from the side of his mouth. His gaze shifted up towards his mother’s deep blue eyes. “I’m—” His breathing slowed as he whispered, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you.”
Lenora tried to reach out for her son. Fighting against the intensity of the lightning that still radiated electric fire throughout her body, she rasped out her final words to her eldest. “I love you,” she gritted her teeth as the lightning pulsedthrough her. “Don’t you dare ever be sorry for anything. May the light always guide you, and the gods always surround you.”
The remaining air in Keir’s chest gurgled as one last raspy breath passed through his lips. Every one of his last moments he had used to protect the people he loved. His eyes slid shut, and Lenora’s scream matched the feeling of her heart shattering into a million pieces.
Reaching down to the depths of her body where her dynamis resided, she unleashed every painful emotion she had towards Alastor. A gust of wind blew around them from her dynamis, only causing a slight hitch in his stance. She continued to launch wave after wave until the well of her dynamis ran dry. Alastor barely flinched.
The queen shuddered as he finally released her from his dynamis. Burning with rage, she glared at the man still towering before her.
“You may kill us, Alastor, but the gods will never let your evil win. Our people will continue to rise up against you, just like they are right now.” Her gaze drifted to the open window, to the sounds of chaos outside.
A deep rumble of laughter thundered throughout the room, low and raspy enough to make the queen’s stomach seize with fear. Blood continued to soak the wound in Alastor’s side as he lifted his sword to align it above the queen’s chest, piercing through the delicate edge of her velvet gown, straight below to her heart. He hummed with satisfaction, like a predator ready to pounce on his prey.
“Oh, Lenora. I’ve already won.”
He slammed the sword deep into Lenora’s heart.
One gasp of air, and life faded from her eyes. Alastor wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. He bent down and picked up a peony from the floor, placed it over Lenora’slifeless body. After sheathing his sword, he stormed out of the room, shaking his head.
“Such a waste.”
Chapter 1
Elena
TWENTY-THREE YEARS LATER
Shattered pieces of glass lay askew on the wooden floor as I wrapped my palm with cloth to stop the bleeding. I rose on shaking legs to survey the damage. All the elixirs I’d worked on until the early hours of the morning now dripped between the cracks of the floorboards.
Sweeping my palm over my face, I brushed aside tangled hair slicked with sweat. Tears prickled behind the back of my eyes as my head sank deep into my hands. Another panic attack, another nightmare.
For twenty-three years, I’d endured restless sleep, purple, puffy eyes, and a constant state of anxiousness. You would think, after all these years, it wouldn’t affect me so dramatically.
Unfortunately, the gods hadn’t blessed me with luck.
Today was going to be a long day.
Every muscle cried out as I bent down to begin picking up the shards of glass. A week’s worth of fretting over today’s Ascension ceremony had led to this morning’s panic. Add in the nightmares that haunted my nightly slumber, and we had a recipe for disaster.
I had already been running behind and this setback had only made matters worse.
Even though we were midway into the spring, mornings in this cabin were always unbearably frigid. Throwing my heavy sweater over my shoulders, I rushed towards the only other room in our house, the bathroom.
Squeezing inside the small space, I closed the door behind me and felt the handle bump against my lower back. Wasting precious moments, I peered at myself through the cracked mirror, assessing the damage and planning how to fix it before I had to face the rest of society this morning.
In return for my father’s service as leader of our town guard, and my mother’s expertise as a Healer, this house had been given to my parents by the town council of Lostburrow. A small corner of our cabin had been dedicated to healing the members of our community with her dynamis. Like others, the strength of her dynamis had dwindled compared to those who lived in the cities. Over the years she’d learned to find other ways to assist her dynamis.
When I was a child, she began to teach me ways of using different herbs and plants to create elixirs. When I became old enough, I assisted her with her healing duties. My mother brought love and life to all those around her, until the Nightshades took her soul from us four years ago.
Using the freezing water in the basin, I splashed my face. It shocked my senses, helping me shove the horrid memories of my mother’s death back to the depths of my mind. Hidden in those shadows were the darkest parts of me that I kept locked away. Nothing could keep them from haunting me while I slept, however.
Tossing my unruly hair to the side, I arranged it in a simple braid. Pieces of my wavy auburn hair slipped free. No amount of fussing could tame the wild beast that was my hair, so with a shrug I let it be and closed the door behind me.
