“I am going to kill you!” Callan screamed, throwing himself at me once more.
Before he could get his hands on me again, he let out a piercing cry, collapsing on the ground. His body was still.
For the first time, I saw my mother, standing over him with a bloody dagger in her hands. She was shaking. Her eyes were wide as if she was in shock. “The oracle told me I would have to make a choice one day,” she whimpered, her whole body ready to collapse.
With a lot of effort, I rose to my feet, removing the blade from her grasp. “You made the right one,” I told her, my voice hoarse from my near fatal strangulation. I hugged her hard and we both began to cry.
* * * * *
WILLOW:
“I don’t want you to go,” Rosalyn told me, clothed in the golden garbs of a queen. With the death of their oppressive king, the Dökkálfar welcomed the gentler rule of his sister with open arms. However, my mother made it clear she would not be crossed. As she had proven, she had it in her to be just as vicious as her brother.
They had no choice but to accept me as Rosalyn’s daughter. I was granted the title of princess after showing I had the ability to summon red fire in my palm which seems to be a rare gift among the Dökkálfar. The gift managed to seal my acceptance, but secretly I knew that I was neither Dökkálfar nor Ljósálfar. The oracle had told me that much.
“They are going to kill him,” I told her, draping a black cape over my shoulders. It seemed an odd combination to wear a cape over my T-shirt and jeans, but it would take a long while for me to get used to the flowing white garments used by Elven women.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do,” I told her, meeting her eyes. “I can’t stand by and wait for them to do it.”
She reached out and embraced me. “Nalin is not who you think he is,” she said, whispering in my ear. “He is cold...and heartless. He kills for sport. He doesn’t have a soul.”
“He has me,” I told her. “I am his soul. With me, he is kinder and gentler. I need to save him.”
Rosalyn bit her lip. “I don’t know, darling.”
“Nalin is stronger than any of them, and yet, he has let them jail him,” I explained. “He could have killed them all, but he is holding back. Perhaps because he is different than the one you remember. Maybe he is trying to be a better Elf.”
“If so, then let justice take its course.”
I sighed. “There is no justice as long as Daphne is the queen. I can’t let them kill him.”
“If you must go, then take a convoy with you,” she said worriedly, pulling away.
I shook my head. “Soldiers would call too much attention to me,” I told her, holding a small pouch of red sand up for her to see. “I have another plan.”
“You cannot form a door into the castle of the Ljósálfar,” she told me matter-of-factly. “They have enchantments to block our race from entering.”
I smiled at her knowingly. “I think I could be the exception.”
* * * * *
NALIN:
I heard a commotion in the hallway.
At first, I thought they were coming for me. I thought my time in captivity was over, and now I was about to meet my end. But when I heard the guard posted in front of my door shriek out in pain and collapse onto the floor, I knew this wasn’t a murder attempt.
“Stand back, Nalin,” a muffled voice ordered me through the door. “I am going to open it.”
“It’s enchanted,” I told my rescuer. “It will not open except by my sister’s hand.”
“Well... I can do this two ways,” the voice said with a humorous tone. “I can cut off your sister’s hand and open the door. Or I can make a new entrance. Stand back.”
Backing up, I stood in the middle of the room, waiting for something to happen.
It didn’t take long.
The wall next to the door began to glow, pulsating with a red light. Without warning, the thick, wooden walls began to splinter. I threw myself behind my bed before the wall exploded, sending large, wooden shards flying across the room like stakes.
When the smoke cleared, I peeked out from behind my mattress in time to see a figure enter from the gaping hole in the middle of my wall.
“Nalin,” I heard Willow’s voice call me.
In disbelief, I instantly rose to my feet. “Willow?”
She ran to me, throwing her hands around me. “Are you hurt?”
As the shock of her sudden appearance wore off, I held her close. “No,” I answered, feeling my voice falter with new found emotion. The force her flesh emitted sent calming waves throughout my body, forcing out the darkness from my soul. “I thought they were going to kill you.”
She pulled away, smiling up at me. “So much has happened,” she said, her eyes sparkling with elation as she placed a hand on my cheek. “I will tell you everything, but we have to leave here.”
Running my hand through a few strands of her long hair, I said, “Tell me now.”
“Callan is dead. My mother killed him,” she told me as my eyes glanced over the bruises on her neck which had begun to lighten. “Rosalyn is queen, and I have a title.”
“And the bruises?” I asked, trying to calm the sudden surge of hatred within me. “Did Callan hurt you?”
“It doesn’t matter now,” she said brightly, seeming unable to hide her happiness. “He is dead and we must leave.”
I leaned down and kissed her forehead before caressing her cheek with mine. Guiding my hand down to the small of her back, I pressed her against me. She stretched her long body, meeting my eyes before planting my lips with a long, gentle kiss.
“I can’t go,” I told her sadly, pulling away. “I can’t run away. This is my kingdom.”
She nodded as her expression changed to one of anxiety. “Then let’s take your crown back.”
* * * * *
WILLOW:
I forced the doors to the queen’s bedchamber open with a swift kick. Nalin entered behind me, holding two curved machetes in his hands. We had left several bodies in our wake. I was prepared to burn down the entire castle, killing every Elf that challenged Nalin.
Daphne was standing defiantly at the far end of the room, flanked by six guards.
“Are you going to renounce the crown?” Nalin asked, stepping forward as agile as a dancer.
“Never,” Daphne replied through gritted teeth.
Nalin’s eyes met mine.
Without a single word, I knew this would be a bloody fight. I nodded towards him, and he began to swing his blades in a circular motion. Holding out my palm in front of me, I summoned the red fire which seemed easier to evoke with Nalin beside me.
With their swords ready, four guards rushed at Nalin at the same time.
I shot a fireball at the first soldier, landing it on his face and blinding him. He screamed in agony as the other three rushed passed him, meeting Nalin’s blades.
Nalin killed the next two easily, piercing both their bodies with his machetes at the same time. The fourth managed to slice Nalin across his chest. A pained expression crossed his face as his hand felt his wound. He held a blood stained hand to his face as if to confirm his injury.
Angry, my eyes glowed neon blue as I rushed towards the soldier, kicking him swiftly in his groin and batting away his sword as if it were a trinket. In an instant, I grabbed both his wrists with one hand, crushing them as his knees buckled. With my other hand positioned in front of his anguished face, sparks flew at him, burning red and then changing to blue. As he collapsed to the floor at my feet, I knew I had killed him, realizing that no one could survive their face being burned off.
“Can you heal?” I promptly asked Nalin over my shoulder.
“It has already begun,” he answered, sounding revitalized as the final two guards rushed him.
The clanging of swords filled my ears as I started towards Daphne who was now unguarded. “Do you renounce the throne?” I asked in a sinister voice that was unrecognizable to my ear
s.
She shook her head, pulling out a dagger from her robes. She ran towards me, trying to stab me with a broad stroke. Without thought, I grabbed the blade with my bare hand. I winced as pain shot up my arm.
Daphne held the handle of the dagger with both hands, trying to force it towards my face.
Ignoring my injury, I focused on melting the dagger with the heat of my palm. The blade that was once sharp was now dull and useless. I flung the piece of molten metal across the room as I punched her in her face, breaking her nose.
As blood trickled down her face, she grabbed at my hair, twisting it in her fingers.
I tackled her to the floor, trying to straddle her body to get a better angle to land a few punches, but she continued to fight me. With some effort, I pinned her down, grabbing her by both ears and banging her head on the floor viciously.
A sharp cry filled echoed across the room, and I realized Nalin had killed one of the soldiers he was fighting. The other one whimpered for mercy.
Daphne shrieked in pain and shot a fist out, landing on my chin.
Instantly, I let her go, cradling my face. Feeling a dangerous surge of energy enter me, I produced a blade out of thin air with magic I didn’t know I had. “Do you relinquish your crown?”
“No,” Daphne told me, appearing bloody and exhausted.
I held the blade over my head, preparing to plunge it into her heart when two strong hands prevented me. I struggled to bring down the blade on her while being pulled to my feet by strong arms.
“Enough,” Nalin pleaded when I realized he was the one trying to pull the dagger from my hands. He held me closely, trying to quench the fire within me. After a few long moments, I felt my body relax and my taut muscles settle. “It’s over.” he whispered in my ear soothingly.
I slumped against him, finding myself unrecognizable. I couldn’t understand the need to kill... but I knew that if anyone else attempted to hurt Nalin, I would kill without mercy.
Confused, Nalin looked down at me. “What are you?” he asked. “I have never seen... anything like it. You have so much power.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I didn’t know I had powers,” I told him honestly. “But I know that I am not Ljósálfar.”
Silent, he nodded in understanding.
“I am not Dökkálfar either,” I told him. “I am some kind of hybrid.”
Nalin reached down, taking the crown from Daphne’s head.
Panting from exhaustion, she didn’t struggle as she lay motionless on the floor. She seemed to be in shock. Her eyes stared up at the ceiling blankly as if her mental faculties had failed her.
I took the crown from his hands and placed it upon his head. “This is where it belongs,” I told him, starting to feel more like myself. “So, what’s next?”
“I have to clean house and cut the weeds within my own court,” he told me, glancing down at his sister. “Then I was thinking of unifying the races.”
“How do you intend to do that?” I inquired, arching a brow.
“By marrying a certain Dökkálfar princess,” he said with a slow smile playing on his lips. “It is the only way to blend the races and prevent conflict in the future.”
I nodded in acceptance. “And I suppose there is nothing in it for you?” I asked teasingly.
“Absolutely nothing,” he said with mock disinterest.
“I don’t believe you,” I told him lightheartedly, raising an eyebrow as I playfully shoved him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him close, staring at his lips as he smiled at me. I reached up and met his supple lips with my own, sealing our bond with a sweet kiss.
THE END
* * * * *
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List of Literary Works by Sandra Madera
Short Stories:
The Collector
Overboard
Sangre Falls
Scattered
Shattered
Weeping Willow - Part One
Weeping Willow - Part Two
Novels and Trilogies:
Restraint
Lament: A Restraint Novel
Malcontent: A Restraint Novel
Wicked Magic: A Weeping Willow Novel
Wicked Love: A Weeping Willow Novel (coming soon!)
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