Adonia Wu

Lock stared helplessly at the man who sat in front of us. That man had forced Lock and I away from the Palace, warning us that it was too dangerous. To be honest, I agreed. There was no way I was going to be able to fight those things.

"King Sartyr is not to be tempered with," the man told us.

"I could take him," Lock countered.

The man sighed, placing a hand on his forehead. "Believe me, if Thaeleck couldn't then you couldn't either."

"Could you get to the point?" Tapping my leg, I leaned back. "We were so close to getting in."

"There's more dark magic then just Dark Faeries. I don't know what exactly, but there's more."

"And why should we believe you?" Lock incited. "You stopped us from getting information."

"I'm not from Kandose, but I am a lord from Thaeleck. Lord Prodos Arons. I've helped Princess Valarya and Ashe Knightley."

"Seems like more of a reason to not trust you," I bit back.

Lord Prodos stepped toward me. Lock came up next to me, his eyes narrowed. "Look," Lord Prodos began, "you don't have to trust me. I'm a dead man once Ashe Knightley figured out what I've done. But please"—Lord Prodos handed me a torn piece of parchment that was tightly wounded up—"give this to my son Nylas. Tell him to give it to Valarya."

And then—Lord Prodos fell to the ground, his mouth foaming.

"Hell." Lock touched Lord Prodos's neck. "Look here, Adonia."

At closer examination, there were faint bruises in various spots.

"Bug bites?" I guessed.

"Not likely." Lock stripped Lord Prodos of his shirt, revealing more bruises.

Leaning closer, I realized they weren't bruises.

"He's charred in many areas," I concluded.

"Do you think he's going to become a Dark Faerie?"

My head pounded at the thought. "I think," I started, getting up from the ground, "that's unlikely. We don't know what created the Dark Faeries. And besides, there's so much we don't know."

Lock threw himself down on a couch, sighing. "We are so fucked."

"Calm yourself. Let's get Lord Prodos's body to Henneh and Rysdan and let them examine it." Attempting to pull up Lock, I added, "In the meantime, we need to figure out what those things guarding the Grand Palace were."

"They definitely weren't humans."

*~⚜️~*

As the sun rose, I rushed out of bed. Nelly moaned for me to come back into the room, but I simply ignored her.

Especially since I needed to see someone. Someone I could maybe trust.

Fastening my face covering tighter, I banged Zian's bedroom door. I didn't care if he was asleep; he had done the same to me, after all.

The door flung open. Zian didn't say a word as he groaned.

"Talk to me. I need you to talk to me."

I knew he wasn't allowed to talk to anyone without permission, but I thought he'd make an exception. Especially since I was up this early—a rarity.

He shook his head and shut the door in my face.

Moron.

I stalked down the hall and held onto the scroll Lord Prodos had given me mere hours ago. There was no way I could've read it while Nelly was in my room, so there was only one place I could think of no one catching me read it.

Lake Ahmet was in my sight. I threw myself down on the ground and rushed to open the torn parchment.

Kill Cadice.

Those were the only two words on the paper.

"Farrah, what are you doing out here?" Zian's voice came from behind me.

"Cadice is a Saint that is well known in Thaeleck, right?" I hurriedly asked Zian.

"Yes, why—"

"And the de Mertaire line are rumored to have an heir that has Cadice's powers?"

Zian rubbed his face and sat next to me. "Yes, but—"

Valarya was the Cadice descendant.

"Please tell me you know who Ashe Knightley is," I said to Zian, practically throwing myself up from the ground.

"He was a good friend of mine—"

"That's all I needed to know." I spun around, grasping Zian's hand. "Thank you for talking to me. I'm sorry if I got you into any trouble."

"I'm confused."

"Don't be."

"Um—"

I sprinted toward the mail room, leaving behind Zian.

*~⚜️~*

Eons ago, Cadice of Torth was taken in as a slave by Kandosian pirates. Forced to work in the mines of Ahmet, he befriended the other Saints, who would later be known as the saviors of the world.

The ancient war between Kandose and Thaeleck has been around for eons until Cadice and Daen (husband and wife) obliterated the Tintalyin dynasty of Kandose. Because of the failed experiments and lack of technological advancements, Kandose warriors weren't well equipped with magic. However, Cadice's army were stronger and more powerful, easily beating the Kandosian's and sending them into a lifetime without magic that they desperately needed to heal their rabid dragons and prevent destruction.

Soon after the Great War, Cadice ordered all officials to build around war rooms that were throughout Thaeleck. These war rooms carried traces of magic from the Kandosian failed experiments preformed on their warriors.

To this day, not a single war room has been uncovered. Some say that there were no war rooms, and the whole order was a lie created by Cadice to throw off the new royal family of Kandose.

I didn't understand why Lord Prodos would want Cadice dead. If Cadice was already dead—

He wasn't dead? How could that be possible—

A piano began playing throughout the library. I shot up from my seat, hiding in the shadows of the bookcases. Each note reverberated off the walls, telling me that whoever was playing the piano was close by.

As I tried to sneak up on the person playing the piano, I tripped over the raised bit of carpet and face planted into the ground.

"You all right, Farrah?" Zian said. The piano stopped.

So he was the one playing it. Should've guessed.

"I'm fine—" I tripped again on another raised bit of carpet, but this time Zian grasped my hand, preventing me from possibly breaking my skull open.

"You're going to break your head." Zian smiled, helping me stand up straighter.

"I have a hard skull."

"That's evident." Zian sat back down on the seat of the piano. "You're awake awfully early. Are you ill?"

"I'm perfectly fine."

Zian began playing the piano again. I was almost taken aback by the fact that no one else was in the library, but I realized it was because I was awake this early. Maybe I should try waking up early.

"You can't talk to me," I pointed out.

Zian shrugged, continuing to play. "We all break the rules at some point."

"That's a ridiculous saying."

"I burned down a building once." Zian laughed, tapping another note on the piano. "It was more funny than I make it sound."

Lock burned down a building while he tried cooking.

Damn it, I needed to stop thinking about him. Maybe it was best if I didn't associate myself with Lock. Or the way he laughed. Or the way he walked when he tried to be brave.

I forbid myself from thinking about him in leather. Hell—

"Farrah, did you hear me?" Zian said.

"What?"

"Why are you in the library?"

"I was... reading a book."

Zian's stare made me shift uncomfortably in my spot. "You don't have to lie to me, Fairy Fant."

"Not this again."

Zian smiled, gesturing to an empty spot next to him. "Feel free to play with me, if you want."

"Fine." I sat next to him. "But..."

"You don't know how to play?"

I shook my head. "I played the flute when I was younger, but never the piano."

"Oh," Zian said, getting up from his seat.

Why did I think he was going to stay seated with me? It wasn't like he was going to bother playing with someone who didn't even know what notes they were using. 

"Arrange your hands across the keys like this," he whispered into my ear as he tangled his fingers with mine.

He pressed his finger down, playing a note.

"See? Loosen your wrist a bit." Zian flexed my wrist, instantly relaxing my muscles there. "Now press down the finger I apply pressure to."

And so I did. The next notes were simple. Zian's hands would help mine skip across the keys of the piano, his breath hot on my neck.

Absolutely not. I was not going to—

"You're naturally musically inclined, I'm guessing?" Zian murmured, pressing another note. "You play wonderfully for your first time."

"That's only because you're helping me. I'm a terrible musician."

"You should consider not being too hard on yourself. No one can be good at everything."

"Yeah, but I'm not good at anything."

I removed my hands from his and sighed.

"That can't be true," Zian murmured, his breath still near my neck.

"You're one to talk. You're good at everything! Everyone says so. No one ever doubts you." I slammed my hand down on the keys, the sound startling Zian. "And I'm known as the person who can't wake up in time for roll call. It's true, though."

Zian sat down next to me, but he didn't play the piano. Instead, he said, "I'm not good at everything, I promise."

"That's reassuring," I muttered dryly.

"I'll show you one day how terrible I am at some things."