Phoenix - Daccari Buchelli (classic literature list .TXT) 📗

try again, Sire. You have my word.'

A low crunch sounded overhead. Emperor Jugan was withdrawing his powers. Arlas watched in awe as tiers of frost magic zipped back into flesh and bone.

'Very well.' Jugan reached up to his face with one large hand, scratching at a patch of dark stubble. 'But, you'd do well to understand that you are not out of the woods yet.'

The emperor continued to stroke his chin in thought, as though considering all that Arlas had told him thus far.

'My youngest, Fadius, shall accompany you on your Quest. Better yet, so will Reiza. You shall remove Ryore from the throne by any means necessary and ensure that Fadius serves as his replacement.'

Emperor Jugan rose from his throne, frost forming back around his palms.

'Do you think Reiza would agree to such a thing? Asked Arlas. 'She appears to be quite taken with Ryore.'

Jugan waved his frosted palm, as if he could dismiss the issue with a mere show of magic.

'Let me deal with her if need be.'

Arlas sucked the blood from his lower lip.

'Of course, Sire. And the princess?'

Jugan's fingers danced through the glistening air, creating symbols that would appear foreign to most.

'Forget her. It is Ryore you must focus your efforts on now.'

Arlas gave a weak nod.

'Yes, Sire.'

'Good.' Jugan brandished his hands in the Mage's direction. 'But heed my warning. You and your new accomplices shall complete your task by the end of year C-8. By then, my eldest son will have reached the age of twenty. You cannot allow him, at any cost, to produce an heir.'

Jugan's hands continued to spin of their own accord, sending coils of frost to shoot in Arlas' direction. He grinned as Arlas was accosted by a sharp stab of pain. It wormed it's way into the depths of the Mage's heart, where it would continue to pulse, now as much a part of him as his heart or lungs. Arlas glanced up at his better to find that Jugan's sneer had returned.

'That curse will not lift until your task is complete. Fail me again and even my youngest son's life shall be forfeit!'

 

CHAPTER FOUR

 

 

Violetta

 

 

 

Violetta lay in the folds of her bed-sheets. She thought of all the mornings she'd awoken, knowing that she had been blessed with such a caring mother who would hug her as soon as they'd meet in the hallway. Knowing how her brother would scold her if she hurt herself, then help to soothe her troubles away.

It had been a month since she had lost mother and Darius. Violetta found herself thinking back to their funeral. It had been a quaint affair, hosted by their neighbouring Realm, yet it now served as little more than a hazy recollection of coloured shapes and raw emotion.

 

 

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Violetta loved travelling by carriage. The sights, the smells. Everything was new to her and that was the way she liked it. Today, things were different. There would be no joy or excitement; just a sight that would cause her heart to weep.

Her father had no need for guards to accompany them. King Eagan's magical abilities were legendary and were more than enough to obliterate even the most formidable of foes, should they be so bold as to attack their transport.

It hadn't been long before the landscape had changed, the heat little more than a whisper on the wind. As the carriage rumbled up to their destination, Violetta caught sight of the Earth Realm's Palace. The mighty building headed a slight incline and looked to be constructed from a towering rise of golden wood.

The funeral was to be held in the palace's private gardens. The carriage had passed marble fountains aplenty, each with water spouting from its top when the driver heaved back on the reigns. The horses drawing the carriage slowed to a stop.

'Come, Violetta.'

King Eagan 's arms propelled his daughter out of the carriage, signalling for both driver and horses to take a well-earned break.

Violetta followed her father through a set of wrought iron gates. She could still feel his lingering anger from when she'd recently summoned her powers. She trailed her father's glittering form, noting the drooping heads of bluebells nearby.

Her father stopped short. Violetta glanced up and froze at the sight of twin coffins. They were perched side by side atop a ceremonial alter of polished wood. She felt her stomach drop. Here they were. Her lost kin.

As a child, Violetta had longed for the tales of the other Realms; of the breath-taking landscapes and strange delicacies that existed elsewhere. Now that she was here, she felt nothing. Her mind was numb to the beauty around her. From the apple and daisy scented air, to the shifting colours within the sunset sky. Nothing could penetrate the sorrow that bound her heart.

Standing there seemed like a cruel dream, designed to torment the weak of mind. Violetta saw her hand reach out toward the caskets when a fierce rustling sounded from the hedges behind. A tall gentleman emerged from the bushes, his brown hair softened by the light of a thousand candles, which seemed to have appeared alongside him. His floor-length robes, the colour of gold, glistened with every one of his steps.

'If it isn't the mighty Eagan himself.'

The newcomer extended his arm, his dark eyes passing between Violetta and her father. Violetta noted how her father reluctantly reached out an arm.

'Aemon, good to see you.'

The two rulers placed their palms together in greeting. Despite her father's warm smile, there was something about the interaction that felt, to Violetta, somewhat forced.

'Violetta, this is King Aemon. Our host.'

Violetta brushed the skin on her arm as she took in the dark eyes of their host.

'It is good to meet you,' she said with practised grace.

The tension between her father and their host had not abated by the time the funeral was in progress. While King Aemon gave a touching speech, Eagan merely sat and stared. Rows of redwood chairs had been laid out before the caskets, seating all manner of exquisite beings.

Elves with flawless skin sat to the left, while pale humanoid figures ringed their right. A boy with corpse-like flesh and ruby eyes was just one of the few that had caught her attention. His piercing gaze passed over her, his tongue running the length of a set of fangs, as though contemplating whether to drink her blood.

A shiver ran the full length of Violetta's spine. Those eyes were hypnotic, born from the likes of hell below. She found her lungs suddenly gasping for air. The boy's eyes fuelled a rage within her, one that needed to be released.

'And that's why,' called Aemon, 'we shall forever remember Queen Isobel and Prince Darius.'

The silent guests had begun to applaud when they noticed Aemon's mouth fall open. Violetta flailed about as vicious flames sprang to life around her. She was powerless to stop them as they began to swirl about her form, extending out from her fingertips.

People screamed and began to flee from the grove as several bushes caught alight.

'Eagan!' Their host summoned Violetta's father to his side, all too aware that her power could kill countless members of his clan. 'We need to stop her! Her powers are out of control!'

Sure enough, the flames that had previously been restricted to Violetta's form, had begun to engulf the entire funeral arrangement. Violetta felt nothing, save for the emotional turmoil that rampaged through her. She thought she registered a glint of emerald green, before the blur of flames in her vision departed. A sudden onrush of air overtook her, before her body crumpled to a heap on the ground.

'Violetta?'

Violetta's eyes attempted to open, but her eyelids were stiff and crusted with dirt.

'Violetta, can you hear me child?'

Lord Jork's familiar voice filtered through her subconscious. Violetta blinked her eyes once more and slowly found them beginning to open.

The first thing that greeted her was a fierce pain as light pierced her eyes. She felt arms beneath her, hauling her up by her slender waist.

'My lord?' she asked.

'No, it's me.'

'Xyhoni?'

A pair of emerald eyes shimmered before her as King Aemon's honorary son pulled her to her feet.

'Yes.'

Violetta clenched her arms around him.

'Xi!' The tears were instantaneous. 'What happened? How did I—'

'Shh.' Xyhoni held her close, running his fingers through her golden hair. 'Don't fret, everything is under control now.'

He was so calm. Violetta glanced around the side of him, where the remnants of bushes trailed smoke into the air.

'I-I'm so sorry.'

She pulled herself back from the boy's grip and gazed upon his familiar form. Xyhoni stood before her, his warm copper hair swaying in the breeze. His eyes locked onto her, an opalescent emerald green. In other circumstances, Violetta could have lost herself in them forever.

'I didn't mean to,' she wept.

Xyhoni noticed her eyes darting around the grove.

'Don't worry about it. You couldn't have foreseen what would happen.'

 

Xyhoni had always found a way to lighten her grief. Violetta felt a warmth spreading through her veins. Unlike her power, it worked to soothe her. She wondered if she ought to smile. She didn't feel like it, but as she gazed into those beautiful eyes, she found the corners of her mouth beginning to curve.

'Xi, thank you and your father- Aemon, for this.'

She gestured around at the once enchanting service, its surrounding foliage now charred beyond recognition.

Xyhoni show her a half smile and Violetta felt her cheeks heat up. She peered up at him, while her fingertips brushed the side of her arm.

'I'm sorry for your loss.' Xyhoni's emerald eyes seemed to darken. 'Perhaps this will help to brighten your day.'

He clicked his fingers and a burst of leaves appeared out of nowhere, twisting around his outstretched palms.

Violetta gasped. As the flurry of leaves cleared her vision, she saw what Xyhoni had cupped in his hands. Stark against his olive skin was a single red rose, the signature flower of the Flame Realm. Violetta was at a loss for words, but graciously accepted it.

'T-thank you,' she stammered.

The tendrils of sorrow that strangled her heart began to unravel the slightest amount. Xyhoni's half smile made a re-appearance.

'May this rose brighten your darkest days.'

 

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Violetta dragged herself out of her daze. Her vision cleared, leaving the image of the crimson rose Xyhoni had made her, entwined with a protective spell that would see it forever preserved.

There came a sudden knock on her chamber door. Violetta bolted upright.

'Violetta?'