Nectar of War: The Song of Verity and Serenity (The Nectar of War Series Book 1)

LEVORA APOLLA ARVENALDI

VAIGON CITADEL

I lift my hand from the ground and wipe away the falling tears. I can feel the grittiness of the dirt swiping across my face as I rub over my skin.

‘No! I can do it!’ I shout at Roaner as I attempt to climb the pillar again.

‘I said that is enough!’ He screams and I am pulled from the pillar and he stands me in front of him, taking me by the shoulders. ‘You are going to harm yourself worse than you already have. There is nothing wrong with trying again tomorrow. You do not need to be perfect at everything on your first try.’

I stop the words daring to tumble.

I can no longer think about how Roaner or my brothers and Hua have been perfect at everything they have done within a day.

‘We have tomorrow.’ He grips my shoulders harder and I turn away from him. ‘Levora! Where are you going?’

‘Just leave me, I will be fine.’

Strong like Levora.

Strong like Levora.

I repeat the words in my head and say them aloud.

“Strong like Levora. Not strong like the others, like Levora.”

I dust off my training gear and stand.

It is now entirely dark in the woods.

Out of desperation to get away from everyone and the raging world around me, the woods tend to be a small sanctuary right where I can see through the opening of the trees where the moon loves to shine.

I look down at my training suit and my chin begins to quiver.

Not allowing myself to wallow in self pity, I walk on.

‘Discovering your strength is comparable to understanding your tastebuds.’

‘Tastebuds?’ I exasperate. ‘Of all things you compare it to tastebuds!’ It feels like second nature to laugh as he does.

‘Yes, I mean it.’ He chuckles as he bites into the food on his plate. And within his black eyes I see white granules bouncing like stars. ‘You try everything and discover things you enjoy, and that translates to you understanding what techniques fit you best. It is easy to be powerful, but it is about how you can be powerful. Just as you figure out your favorite foods, figure out your favorite ways to conquer. There will always be more than one.’

‘You have an odd brain.’

He smiles. ‘You have no idea.’

Each moment of falling, losing balance, tripping over my own feet, weakening each movement, it all continues to nip at my brain as I recall it.

Tomorrow will either be another day to improve or another day to fall short.

Loud cracking of branches thrum through the woods instantly grabbing my attention. Turning in small circles, I observe my surroundings. Yet, I can see nothing.

“What is a weeping High Princess like you doing alone in these woods?” I hear a sinister voice vibrate through the trees.

I search again.

“It does not seem that she speaks.” Another says and his voice travels like a slither to my ear.

Two disheveled men appear from the darkness of the trees.

Two of them, and one of me.

I would not last fighting off one, let alone two.

As their faces appear, their eyes are identical. Wholly blue . . . the blue Laven has warned me of when explaining the appearance of rogues. These men could not possibly be rogues. They are too well tamed.

The clearer they narrow in, I see no scarring upon them, yet there is a peculiarity about their skin and how it is tinted gray.

Two more men appear. They all hold the same sinister smile.

Rapidly, I look between them. I may not make it out alive, nevertheless, I will attempt to.

Run, a quiet voice speaks in my head, and I do.

If I am one thing, I am light on my feet.

Just as they begin to close in I run.

Given their slow reaction time to follow, they were not expecting me to be brave enough to begin the chase.

My heart batters through my chest over the sounds of their heavy feet pounding into the ground behind me. I know these woods, even without years of being here, I remember every placement of the trees here like the back of my hand.

That is my advantage.

These woods grow wider and tighter at multiple random points, making it that much more confusing for them and that much more navigable for me.

When I reach the wider span of the woods is when I run faster, but the moment I do I am hauled into the air and held tightly with no release.

I know it is him solely by embrace.

Daevien.

I am flipped over his shoulder and onto his back as his wings span out, gliding us through the trees. We come to a landing point and he looks at me over his shoulder.

“Finding you getting chased down by rogues was not on my agenda tonight.” He smirks.

“Trust me, it was not on mine either.”

The rogues gather around us as I stand.

Daevien’s spear is drawn and is held in front of us as one black iridescent wing circles around me.

Nothing can touch me here.

“I do not have all goddamn night.” He snaps at the rogues who dance around us.

“If I run–”

“You are not going anywhere that I cannot see you. You do not leave here unless it is with me.”

A dark shadow is cast overhead and Daevien smiles.

I look toward the sky, and the dark figure is soaring toward the ground, aimed directly at us.

Their arm is sharply angled downward and they land in front of us in a perfect kneeling position, their fist simultaneously punches the ground as they land. The moment their knuckles collide with the earth, the ground as they land. The moment their knuckles collide with the earth, the ground cracks, knocking us all unsteady and Daevien nears closer.

A circle of magic surrounds us, and it propels every man outside of the circle.

Their head slowly lifts.

Ivella.

“I have formed the shield, they will not be able to pass through it to reach her.” Ivella informs Daevien. Her arms swarm upward, crossing in front of her chest. The stitching in her dark armor ignites in a glow of red, and as her arms uncross, a knee lifts and she soars back into the sky. As she disappears, feathers begin to fall around me. Each one igniting against the ground in that gentle blue hue of her magic.

Wings.

The rogues begin to search for her but are also unsure of who to watch. Ivella or Daevien.

Through the woods we can hear her running circles around them, then, a laugh so taunting comes from her as they struggle to see Ivella.

The men that were once around us lie scattered, the first to stand begins to run directly at me.

The strong sound of a spear veers right across my cheek, just missing me by a hair. The spear drives through his shoulder, entering through one end of his body and fully exiting through the other. As he falls, Ivella is standing behind him, and in a slight lean, she dodges the sharp point of the spear and catches it directly in the middle.

Blood drips down her face from the drive of the spear through his shoulder, but she does not bother to wipe it away.

I turn and Ethel is there drawing both swords from behind her back. The shrieking sound of the silver wakes the lying men even more.

She waits for them to stand.

One down, three to go.

The second rogue to rise runs away just as the other two gather their strength.

Ivella’s eyes widen as she decides whether to chase him, or to stay.

“He will get away!” Ethel shouts as she focuses on the man standing.

Daevien’s black wings span outward as he charges down the path to the runner. He ascends and reappears directly in front of the rogue. Daevien’s body veers upward propelling ahead in a direct line, his feet are aimed forward, driving right into the man’s chest. As the rogue is thrown the sound of his bones breaking cracks through the air from the force of Daevien’s strike.

Before Ivella and Ethel handle the last two, Ira appears and places a shield around the two men, holding them in a small prison, then he does the same to the others that are injured.

Now they have nowhere to go, even if they knew how to ascend, they would not be able to get through it.

“We will hold them for questioning,” Ivella announces.

“And who is to say we will give you any information?” One of them grits through their teeth.

She steps closer to the shield. “While your skin is being peeled off bit by bit we will see how long you will last before snitching.”

Ivella turns to Ethel. “I will have a transport arranged to take them to Unalave. I will tell Laven.”

One tries to spit on her through the shield, but it only retaliates on him by flinging back on to his own face.

“You are just as much of an imbecile as you are weak.” She says before ascending.

Daevien grabs my hand and we ascend from the woods and into the palace where Laven is sitting in his study with Stravan.

Upon seeing Ivella, Laven’s eyes widen as he assesses the blood drying on her face.

He is immediately inspecting her for a wound.

Quicker than ascension, his feet project him across the room and toward her.

Nyt and Salem gather around my legs and I smile through the stress we have just been put through. “Place,” I nod to their new beds that Laven had made for them, but it seems they both like to sleep in one bed together next to the raging fireplace.

“Dae,” Stravan calls. “What happened?”

“Rogues, possibly?” He questions himself as he answers.

Stravan looks down at our looped hands and I pull away before questions may arise.

“Yes,” Ivella responds as Laven is wiping away the blood on her face with the fabric he tore from his shirt. “They are very . . .” she struggles to find the word. “Aware.”

Laven’s eyebrows knit together. “Aware?”

“They spoke, they were agile, they understood their surroundings, they were nothing like the previous mutations we saw when you were attacked.”

“You were attacked?” I gasp at Laven.

“Yes, but it was some time ago, shortly before we stopped seeing the rogues roaming.”

Stravan heavily exhales as he and Laven make eye contact.

“He did it.” Stravan mumbles as his fingers scratch at his chin.

Phyv steps forward concernedly. “Did what?” He asks.

“He created a mutation to make them aware of themselves, but somehow under his control.” Laven says as he places the dirtied fabric on the table, Stravan’s face scrunches before he looks at it, sways a hand, and it is gone.

“That means this just got much more difficult.” Ivella says.

“But they were weak.” Daevien announces.

Laven’s nods from side to side. “Not necessarily. They could have been weaker links that were sent here. We do not know what kind of extensive training he could be putting the others through.”

“I noticed that the previous mutations we saw are no longer around,” Ivella sits in a chair and Laven does not bother to move from her side. “Do you think he got rid of them because of their recklessness?”

“Possibly, possibly not.” Ethel looks out the floor to ceiling length windows, searching for her cousin Ira who still holds the men under his shield. “He could be using them in the war, but we will stay prepared for it.”

“We will need to tell the others.” Laven speaks. “I will have Ezra send word in the morning.”

“Do you think they wanted something?” I ask.

“If they wanted something they would have sent their strongest, and you would not be here my love. But,” she slowly looks up at Laven and Stravan. “They took a larger Norpheyen.”

“What is a Norpheyen?”

“A Norpheyen is an extraordinarily large bird with a colorful body and four wings. Both predator and prey, though, mainly predator given its size and sharp talons.” Laven explains. “Young Dragons tend to hunt large birds as Norpheyen, if too young, the Dragon could easily become the prey. In Misonva, the Vampire Realm, Norpheyen’s grow to similar sizes of Dragons. Just as Xentigons do that reside in the waters of Provas with the Water Dragons. In Misonva, Norpheyen’s have riders just as Dragons do, and so do Xentigons. Here, Norpheyen’s will grow to be the span of a small cottage. They strictly live in the Hashthyna Forest given the environment they need, when winter arrives, they take to the Forests in Gordanta.”

“He is going to use them for war,” Phyv counters. “That bastard.” He forces a laugh.

“How many did he take?” Laven asks.

“As far as Iysha saw, just one.” Ivella answers. “He said they took the Norpheyen from its child, but we did not find a young Norpheyen anywhere. So I am only suspecting he had two taken.”

Stravan looks over his shoulder at Ivella. “Where are the rogues now?”

“With Ira in the woods, he put a shield over them so they may not escape. I said we should take them to Unalave for questioning.” Ivella makes eye contact with Laven to be sure this is fine, but he is already agreeing with her.

“I will have Hua and Amias hold them there.”

“What is Unalave?” Phyv wonders.

“An underground prison where no one escapes, we will only keep them alive for questioning. Some are injured, but it is nothing that they could not heal from.” Ivella says as she rubs her dry, bloodied, hand against her leathers.

“You just want to torture them,” Stravan simpers.

She smiles staring off through the trees. “Maybe.”

“How were they found?” Stravan questions.

“They were trying to capture Iysha and his companion while they were playing in the forest. So, yes, I do want to torture them for trying to lay a hand on my brother.”

“Play nice,” Stravan gently kicks her foot which dangles as her legs are crossed. “I will go home and speak with Dyena tonight. Tomorrow, have Ezra come to Provas and I will give him the letters to inform the other realms that the search for the remaining Six of Spring will begin.

Laven nods and Stravan is gone.

If I am not strong enough to fight a rogue, how am I expected to find missing people of our world? Quests such as this require agility in fighting, not just brains, and if I am ever alone I cannot depend on someone else to always rescue me in an ambush.

I need to want it more, I need to want it for me.

No longer will I want strength only for others, but for me.

“I will go too; I need to speak with my father.” Ivella stands.

She and Laven exchange only a look, but Laven stands there confused as she does not say anything to him other than giving just a glance and leaving with Ethel.

“I will see if I can be of any service to Ira in the woods.” Phyv offers.

“I will come with you,” Laven nods and they both ascend to where everything transpired.

When I look up at Daevien he smiles.

“Try not to get yourself killed while I am gone.”

“I think you may be asking for too much.”

A grin appears on his face and through it he gravitates closer than before.

The man with stars in his eyes.

The faintest feeling overcomes me as I stare at how strikingly beautiful he is.

Dark silky hair.

Brown skin.

How his smile replicates how gentle his heart responds.

Captivating. Enchanting. Everything of the sort.

Daevien is the most rapturing man to enter this world.

Then, the expression of terror takes over his face. Terror and sadness that turns him into someone I want to save. Someone I know I could save.

“Why did they bring you there?” He says in a harrowed whisper.

Immediately, he ascends.