Chapter Twelve

My body is weak, worn out, my hands receiving the bitter numbing pain of the cold as my wrists are bound together by rope, walking behind the King as his men follow us in pursuit. We walk through the camp, already my tent taken down as news has reached the camp of my traitor status. Traitor but not human status. King Kyril informed his men that I was speaking nonsense, telling them that I joined the race to find Heka as an attempt to steal goods from the King and make a run for it into the mountains. The men bought the lie, believing their King as he could not tell them I was human. I was only a fraud in who I claimed I was, not what I said I could do. My legs weak from the hike and the events of my body being thrown across a hall just an our ago, as the King stops walking, he turns back to me, placing a hand on my shoulder as he guides me into his tent, leaving the rest of his men outside. As my throat runs dry, I try and hold my head high, knowing that I am about to stand up for myself and come up with a reason for why I am trying to find Heka aside from him being my father. With the tent isolating us from the rest of the camp, King Kyril lets go of my shoulders, taking a seat on his bed as he looks at me, running his hands through his hair. "How does a human like yourself end up in Iduna?"

I expected harsh words to be said, for my body to be flung about the room, for my eyes to water and for Kyril to shout at me. Rather than any of that, he asks me a simple question, his voice not raised at all, but calm. Like the calm before the storm. "I found a mirror the day I was sucked into this realm," I inform, taking in a deep breath as I need this to be believable. I am good with lies, all the way through elementary school I would tell people that my mother was always around for my ceremonies and holiday festivities, that she never missed one. I would create elaborate stories as for why no one saw her and they all believed me. "I found myself in that Temple and that same day of me waking up in there, I met a woman from the mountains. She told me of another human who had passed by before, of a man named Heka." He is buying it, the way he shakes his head. "I asked her how to find Heka and she said she knew a man that could get me into your palace records library to perhaps find the last sighting of him."

"And so you wanted to be added to the race to find Heka in hopes of finding him," the King pieces together, looking up to me with glowing golden eyes. "To find a way to return home?"

I nod, watching as the King rises to his feet, grabbing a glass as he fills it with a rick blue substance, taking a swing at the drink. "And that mirror was my last chance to return home because who knows where Heka is or if he even knows a way for me to see my family again," I add, my voice raised as I want to pounce onto the King, wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze tight. "In the mirror, right before you destroyed it, I saw my mother, drinking away her sorrows as she was left with no one but herself for company." Pathos. Just tons of pathos right now and he should find sympathy for me and give me some freedom to move around. "I do not give a damn about you wanting the kill Heka, but I want to find him just as badly as you do. You know that you need me to find him, that I am the only one who can read his language because I was born in his world. Your magic has no use in finding him, the only way you can find him is by another human. I happen to be that human."

King Kyril scoffs, shaking his head as he looks down to me, his shadow looming over me as he takes a swing at his drink again. "You see, dear little Candice, the last time we spoke like this you were persuading me to add you to the race while lying to me about your background. A silver tongue you have perhaps once more?"

I take in a deep breath, one to gain the confidence to say my words. "It doesn't matter anymore, any of my background or my motives, but you know that without me, you have no chance of finding Heka."

"So you can return home?" the King asks, his tone mocking me. "You are my mate, Candice, so that means I will be damned if you talk to Heka because I will never allow you to return home."

Red, all I see is red. Lunging for the King, I know my hands are tied, but I do not care, wrapping my legs around his waist as I jump, I just my tied-up hands to land a hard punch right to the King's nose, the sound of the cartilage breaking. The King growls, the power of the sound shaking the tent as I find myself thrown off of the King, landing onto the soft mattress of the bed. As he comes for me, I act fast, rolling off of the cot and onto the floor as I quickly get to my feet, eyes briefly meeting the King's as his eyes darken. The sword he keeps on his nightstand, I press the rope against the blade, cutting fast as the King lunges for me once more, but this time, I have a sword. "You are never going home, Candice, but staying here with me," the King growls, taking a careful step back as I raise the sword, my knees bent.

"I would be careful, King, because I took lessons with swords and I was very good," I inform, recalling my fencing days as I am glad that my private school at least offered that as my chance to get out of doing gym. My father had a gift for swords, and although he may have swallowed them most of the time for tricks, mother would tell me of a story involving him that could have come right out of an Indiana Jones movie. "We both know we need one another to find Heka, although what we want with him is very different. You want him dead and I want him alive. You want me to stay here and I want to go home. Let me ask you, do you honestly believe that soul mates can last, and if so, are we even soul mates? You said the gods must be playing a joke on you, and if they are, you do not want me, a human, but your side for the rest of your life."

Grabbing his own sword, the King raises his, eyes glazed over as I hold my head high. "You will never leave Iduna," he snaps, walking forward as I stand my ground, sword raised for a battle as the King puts on a mask. He would never dare harm me with a duel, no, this is all just a game for him, for him to make me think he could harm me and for me to drop my weapon. I am not like the King, for the word soul mate has no definition to me but some cheesy word people use as an excuse in relationships. "That mirror was your only chance to get out and now it is gone. Heka would never even dare help you, seeing that he is a traitor and liar after all. Heka is selfish." All I see is red as I take my first swing, our swords colliding with one another. I know what role he takes here, as he is on defense and I am on offense. He will not a harmful swing at me, no, only a warning one to try and scare me off.

I spin around, raising my sword up and bringing it down with a fast momentum, Kyril quickly leaping back, sticking out his sword to catch mine from landing straight into his bed. "I will return home, you bastard," I yell, lunging forward, and as I do so, I drop to my knees, my left leg sticking out as I swing it around, taking the King out from under his feet. As he lands on the ground, I move fast, knocking his sword out of his hand and keeping the tip of my blade right against his jugular vein. "Stay away from me," I hiss, bring my sword up, only to bring the hilt of my sword down to hit his head, only, a force holds me back.

I'm pushed away, the King holding up his hand as a glowing blue sphere is in his hand, sparks going off around the orb as the King's eyes glow the exact same color. "Know who you are messing with, Candice, for you seem to forget this world is of magic," he states, walking forward as I stand unable to move next to a tapestry upon the tent wall. It is a tapestry of the very assassination my father was part of, him holding a bow and launching an arrow that lands in the chest of the male who wears the crown. How ironic that I almost followed in my father's footsteps and could have just decapitated this King. "Heka was wise unlike you, a human that understood the tricks we Idunians have hidden up our sleeves. You see, species can mate with species and from that, you can either receive mutated beings with demonic features and making the quality of life for them miserable, or you can have something like me." He refers to himself as something, as if some unknown creature that children are afraid of. "Something that the heavens cower from and the pits of hell look up to. I am not just some species that can become a wolf when I please, but something unreal. Heka knew this, he knew who my real mother was and did not dare mess with me."

"So, the little Kyril's father had an affair and you were born from that," I point out, feeling the hairs raise on the back of my neck as Kyril gets closer. "What was your mother, an elf?" I know from Soka that elves are not to be associated with, that they have an evil demeanor, and no one wants to work alongside them.

My body is thrown to the floor, a force keeping me down as I find it hard to raise my neck and look to anticipate what happens next. "I doubt you have ever seen a dragon in Iduna yet."

"Let me guess, you mom was the mother of dragons and had platinum blond hair?"

My head becomes dizzy, my fingers beginning to numb, and as Kyril crouches down, he places two fingers under my chin, lifting my head up to meet his glowing blue orbs. "I guess you could say that, after all, she did craft them from her very hands and breath fire into their souls."

His mother is the goddess that created dragons. He is a demigod, but not like in Percy Jackson where they are half god and half human, no, Kyril is half god and half werewolf, a recipe for fear. The fire makes sense, the one he set in the Temple that consumed all of the flowers on the slab. Could the sparks that I feel when he touches me be because of that as well? He says that the sparks are a sign of us being mates, but that could be just because he is able to use fire as some weapon of choice. "My mother had always wanted a son. She had a daughter that perished in battle eons ago, one that was half enchantress. My sister was powerful, stories still told about her adventures, but she was weak in the end, an arrow in her thigh, laced with poison. She allowed herself to die without even trying to rid her blood of the substance. Mother waited eons to find another male suitable for giving her a powerful offspring, so when my father came along, she knew I would be a child of wonder and a storm to be feared."

My eyes are wide, looking to the blue orb still in his hand, still glowing and making sparks as I fear it getting too close for comfort. Looking back to Kyril, a smile begins to spread across his face, one that makes my skin pale and my mouth have a sour taste. "I think it is time we go and see my mother, do you not agree, Candice?"

"By all means, lead the way," I state, my vice stern and sarcastic as I know that I need to get out of here as soon as possible.

"Then the two of us leave at sundown."

The King moves, grabbing my arms, lifting me to my feet as I feel the sparks the moment his skin contacts mine. Fear is laced through every inch of my body, looking back to the tapestry of my father slaying Kyril's father, my father's face masked by a pair of black horns and red eyes, a serpent's tongue stretching out of his mouth as his hands that grasp the bow have talons. I am led from the tent, the cold wind meeting my skin as Duke Gravon stands before the tent, eyes meeting mine. But he does not look at me like the rest of the men here, how they have stares that makes me fear they will try and harm me. No, not Duke Gravon, for his eyes hold a soft sparkle of some sorts, his face not stern and lips pressed together in a firm line, but he looks like he is wearing a mask. Perhaps I could find an ally as well as a friend in Duke Gravon if I am given the opportunity to. Kyril trusts the Duke very much, respecting him even, which makes me think that perhaps Duke Gravon could be the Brutus to Kyril's Caesar. Mostly likely not, but I know Duke Gravon does not think me to be the traitor Kyril told his men I was. The Duke sees something in me and I do not yet know if that is wise to place trust in.

"Duke Gravon, have my men ready three horses with food and water for a two-day journey," Kyril instructs, grabbing hold of one of my elbows tightly, pulling me further from the tent.

"May I ask who the third companion may be?" The Duke asks, looking to me, offering me a slight nod as Kyril is distracted by looking towards a few of his men pitching a small tent.

As the King looks back, he pulls me closer to his frame, looking to the sun as I see that we will be heading out soon. "You will, Gravon." Kyril pulls me with him away from the Duke and towards the small entrance where we were just earlier when heading to the Temple. With my feet finding it hard to keep up with the King's long strides, the chilling air causes my nose to numb and fingers feel pain from the icy weather, my body shivering as he only pulls me further through the narrow valley of rocks. "Tell me, my dear Lady Candice, why should I trust a word you have spoken about what the marble slab read, of Heka having made journals." We come to a sudden halt, the King pushing me up against a rocky wall, my back uncomfortable as my eyes shoot to the rocks above, afraid that they will fall and crush my small frame. What a way to go. "Please enlighten me."

"Because it is true, those were journal entries for every time he ventured back to the Temple. Heka comes from my world, from me country where English is the language spoken in and written in, meaning that I was able to translate the entries with no struggle. Your phoenix feather has no power there. I am your only chance at reading those journals, so you better believe me," I reply, my voice stern and monotone, eyes locked with a set of dark blue and purple orbs, hoping that he believes me because it is the truth. "That is what the marble slab held and what it only held. He wrote to his wife in one, telling her of his love for her." Kyril's hands once pressed upon my shoulders pull back, letting out a deep sigh as I hold my head high. "You believe me or you do not, but no matter what, you cannot deny I am the only one who can read those words."

The King looks to me from the corner of his eyes as he looks back to where the camp is located in the distance. "I take it that in your world men and women are held at the same respects."

"The idea is there, but many men like yourself are too stubborn to accept the equality of the sexes," I inform, "I do not give a damn about some title you were given due to your bloodline, Kyril, but I do give a damn about seeing my mother and father again."

"I have already informed you that will never happen," Kyril snaps, hands on my waist as he holds me tight against the wall of rocks.

I shove at the King, hands pushing against his chest as he does not budge. "We will just have to see about that," I reply, my elbow landing hard into the King's chest, the King stumbling back, only, he grabs my arm in the process, taking me with him to the ground as I use this sudden motion to swing my body on top of his, taking hold of his shirt in my fists as I lean forward, lips close to his as I cock my head to the right. "Be careful, my King, for many are foolish to underestimate the underdog and before they realize their mistake, the underdog has beat them at their own game."

I rise to my feet, walking away from the King and towards the camp as I know it is no use running towards the Temple. There is no use running anywhere because this man can use magic. Sure, I could knock him out cold, at least I think so, but his men could come after me or he could dodge the blow by using some magical power. I just have to be one step ahead of this man the entire journey to find my father. I will have to learn to Gravon the most I can about magic, about things I could one day use to get away from Kyril, perhaps potions or words that could be of use. As I approach the camp once more and Duke Gravon is there to greet me, I offer him a soft smile, one of friendliness. "The King will be right back, he is just gathering his pride," I inform, hearing a few laughs come from the soldiers by the King's tent, finding what I say to be entertaining. It shows that the respect I thought that they held for the King is a little unsteady, finding funny how they see their King values his pride. Perhaps this is a sign that the underdog has just found a way to stay one step ahead of her competition.

"Perhaps it is for the best," Duke Gravon adds, offering me the same cloak I had worn before, the fur from a fox. Perhaps irony, how a fox is seen as a sly creature, a deceiver, one to always have a trick up its sleeve. Perhaps I am the fox as well, to take out the high and mighty King from the inside rather than an attack from the outer walls.

Smiling, I thank the Duke, putting the cloak on, and as the sides of the material hit my side, a solid object hits my hipbone. Looking to the inner pocket, the Duke has placed the dagger he gifted me with before back in the cloak for safe keeping. "Use it well, Lady Candice," he whispers, walking off just as the King appears from the mist of the mountain passage. As his eyes connect with mine, I no longer look at a male that I am scared of, but one that I cannot wait to dance a dangerous game with.