Chapter 19

Chapter

Nineteen

T he longer he stood there, his hand on his hilt, the angrier Harald became until something inside of him snapped. The fear, the frustration, the helplessness—all of it coiled into a tight knot of rage that he could no longer contain. His mind raced, fixating on the one thing that had haunted him since the beginning.

The curse.

His curse, not hers.

What if his curse was connected to Karalyn's disappearance? Somehow, deep in his bones, he knew this was the case.

Without a word, Harald turned on his heel and stormed back through the forest, his jaw clenched and his fists trembling with barely suppressed fury. Elmer called after him, but Harald didn't stop or slow down. His mind was set on one thing. He would find the fairy seers and force them to tell him what they knew. They would not be given the chance to avoid telling him his curse, not this time.

He bypassed the fairy castle, his steps heavy with purpose. The castle's delicate beauty, the soft glow of its magical lights, all of it seemed mockingly serene compared to the storm brewing inside him. Harald didn't care about protocol or decorum. He was beyond that now.

It did not take him all that long to reach the place where he had met the fairy seers time and again. The seers—those elusive fairies who held the knowledge of the past, present, and future—were his target. They had evaded his questions before, offering vague warnings and cryptic advice, but not this time. This time, he would get answers.

He spread out his arms and whirled about in a wild circle. "Come out! I know you are here!" he bellowed, his fists so tight that his nails dug into the palms of his hands. "You've kept your secrets long enough! Tell me about the curse. Tell me how to stop it, or so help me, I'll?—"

Before he could finish, the bush shook, and a trio of ancient fairies stepped out, their faces lined with age and wisdom. Their eyes, milky with the weight of countless visions, regarded Harald with calm detachment.

The eldest among them, a fairy with silver hair that flowed like a waterfall, spoke first, her voice soft but firm. "King Harald, your anger is understandable, but it will not serve you here. We cannot?—"

"Don't you dare tell me you can't help," Harald snarled, his eyes blazing with fury. "Karalyn has been taken! You've hidden the truth from me for too long, and now it's cost me the woman I love. You will tell me what I need to know, or I'll tear this place apart until you do!"

The seers exchanged a glance, their expressions unyielding.

"The curse cannot be undone," the eldest seer said, her tone grave.

Harald stepped closer, his voice a dangerous whisper. "I don't care about the ancient forces or what can or can't be done. I need to know what this curse is and what it's doing to me, to Karalyn. And if you don't tell me right now, I will make you wish you had."

He reached for his short sword, the threat in his words clear.

The seers, for the first time, showed a flicker of fear, but they did not back down.

"You would not harm us," the second seer, younger but no less wise, said, though his voice trembled slightly. "To do so would only bring more darkness upon you. The curse is already tied to despair and violence. You must?—"

Harald's patience snapped. In one swift motion, he drew his blade and held it to the throat of the youngest seer, his grip steady but his eyes wild with desperation. "You think I won't? Do you think I'll just stand here and let this curse destroy everything I care about? Start talking, or I'll make sure you never speak again."

The youngest seer, her voice quivering, finally spoke. "The curse… it is tied to the darkest parts of your soul, to the rage and despair that you carry. When the moon turns black and the sea stills, the curse will awaken fully, and you will be consumed by it. Your kingdom, your love, everything will be lost."

Harald's grip tightened on the hilt of his sword. "How do I stop it?"

"There is… no easy way," the eldest seer admitted, her voice sorrowful. "The curse feeds on your anger, your despair. To fight it is to fight yourself?—"

"Tell me!" Harald demanded, the sword pressing lightly against the seer's skin. "What precisely is my curse?"

The three seers stared at him with their solely white eyes. They clasped hands and, as if one being, uttered together, "When the moon turns black and the sea stills, Harald will be cursed by despair and darkness, his soul lost to him, his wife lost to him, his kingdom lost forevermore."

A chill ran down Harald's spine. "Is there naught that can be done? My wife… Karalyn… your princess… Can she be saved? Spared? She must be, yes? Her curse… She was cursed too, and her curse has not yet come to pass…"

"We know much, but we do not know all," the second seer said. He sounded regretful, but that only served to inflame Harald's anger and despair that much more.

"Perhaps… if you could confront the source of your despair," the youngest one voiced.

The eldest glared at her, silencing her.

Harald's breath came in ragged gasps. The blade wavered in his hand, his mind a maelstrom of fear and anger. The seers watched him carefully, waiting to see what he would do next.

He slowly lowered the short sword, his shoulders slumping with the weight of the revelation. "And Karalyn? What about her?"

The eldest seer's gaze softened. "She is bound to you by love, but is that enough? She is strong, yes, but you both are cursed."

Cursed. She might as well have said doomed.

Curse breakers. That was what he hoped they could become, but how could that possibly be?

He should find her and protect her at all costs. How could he even attempt to overcome the darkness without her?

Harald sheathed his weapon, his hands trembling. The rage that had driven him here was still there, but it was tempered now by a deeper, more terrifying understanding. The curse was more than just a shadow over his life. It was a part of him, a part that he would have to confront if he wanted to save Karalyn and his kingdom and hers.

He turned away from the seers. There was no time to waste. He needed to find Karalyn, face the curse, and do whatever it took to break free from the darkness that threatened to consume them both.

The revelation from the fairy seers left Harald shaken, but it also fueled his determination. He knew now what his curse entailed. It was tied to his deepest fears and anger, but that didn't change his immediate priority.

Finding Karalyn.

With that goal in mind, he sought out Florian and quickly outlined his plan. "Skyemoor," Harald said, his voice grim. "The kidnapping likely came from there. The Kingdom of the Skies—the sylphs, wyverns, or manticores—they're the most likely culprits. I need you to gather a small army of fairies. We're going there now."

Florian, ever composed, studied Harald for a moment before nodding. "If Karalyn has been taken to Skyemoor, then we must act swiftly. I'll gather the strongest of our warriors, but, Harald, you must know that we aren't known for our combat skills."

"Use vines, blades, plants, anything and everything you can to take them down."

The Guardian of the Air nodded grimly. "Have you been there before?"

"No."

"Be warned, Harald. Skyemoor is a fortress in the sky. The battle will be harsh."

"I'm ready for whatever it takes," Harald replied, his voice firm. "We don't have time to waste."

Within minutes, Florian had assembled a formidable force of fairies—small in number, but each one skilled in magic at the very least. Their wings shimmered in the light as they prepared to take flight, their faces set with determination. Harald didn't waste time with speeches. He simply nodded to Florian, who took the lead. Jarrah, another Guardian of the Air, carried Harald on his back, and the others soared into the sky, heading toward Skyemoor.

It hardly took them any time to leave Fae Falls behind. Beneath them, all they could see were clouds, but Harald stared straight ahead at the other floating isle. Basically, Skyemoor was a small floating mountain, a kingdom perched high above the clouds, its mountaintops sharp and imposing against the bright blue sky. It was a place of immense power, home to the sylphs, who controlled the winds, and to dangerous creatures like wyverns and manticores.

Harald's heart pounded with a mix of fear and resolve. He didn't know what awaited him in Skyemoor, but he couldn't afford to be cautious. Karalyn was in danger, and he would do whatever it took to bring her back.

As they neared the floating kingdom, the first signs of resistance appeared. A group of sylphs, their translucent wings catching the light, swooped down to intercept them, their hands crackling with magical energy. Behind them, wyverns roared, their massive wings beating the air as they joined the attack.

"Attack!" Florian shouted, and the fairies responded immediately, their own magic flaring to life as they clashed with the sylphs.

Harald dove from Jarrah's back and rolled, landing on the rocky terrain before jumping to his feet. He hadn't seen a source of water in the mountains, but no matter. He kept his staff tucked on his back and withdrew his short sword, diving into the fray, his heart a steady drumbeat of determination. He slashed at the sylphs who came too close. The battle was chaotic, a whirlwind of magic and steel as the fairies and Harald fought to break through the defenses of Skyemoor.

The air was filled with the sounds of battle—shouts, roars, the clash of weapons, and the crackling of magic. Harald fought with everything he had, but the forces of Skyemoor were relentless. Every time they pushed forward, more sylphs and wyverns appeared, and the manticores—massive, lion-like creatures with scorpion tails—emerged from the shadows to join the fight.

Despite his strength and skill, Harald felt the weight of desperation pressing down on him. Every attempt to break through the lines was met with fierce resistance. He shouted questions at the sylphs, demanding to know where she was and who had taken her, but they offered nothing in return but more attacks.

A wyvern swooped down toward him, its talons outstretched. Harald rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the strike, and drove his blade into the creature's side. The beast let out a shriek and fell, but more were already coming.

"Where is she?" Harald roared, his voice lost in the chaos.

He fought on, his muscles aching, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The fairies fought valiantly beside him, their magic holding the line, but the battle was turning into a grueling, seemingly endless struggle. Maybe he should have waited a little longer, brought along more fairies, or had some of his sea raiders come over, but most of the fight was in the air, above him, and he cursed himself for not being better able to fight from long range.

Harald's heart ached with fear and frustration. He couldn't find her. He was no closer to saving Karalyn than when he had started.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Florian called for a retreat. "We're being overwhelmed! Fall back!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the din.

Harald wanted to argue, to push forward no matter the cost, but he knew Florian was right. They couldn't win this battle, not like this. With a heavy heart, he pulled back with the rest of the fairies, his mind reeling with the sting of defeat. He had no choice but to allow Jarrah to claim him once more.

As they fled Skyemoor, the creatures of the kingdom did not pursue them. They simply watched, their eyes cold and unyielding. Harald's heart burned with anger and frustration, but he had no choice but to retreat.

When they finally landed back on safer ground, far from the reach of Skyemoor's defenses, Harald collapsed to his knees, his sword falling from his hand. He had fought with everything he had, but it hadn't been enough. He hadn't found Karalyn. He hadn't even learned where she was or who had taken her.

Florian landed beside him, his expression grim. "Harald… I'm sorry. We did everything we could."

Harald looked up at him, his eyes filled with a mix of despair and fury. "It wasn't enough," he said, his voice hollow. "I need to find her. I need to know where she is."

Florian placed a hand on his shoulder, his touch gentle but firm. "We will keep searching. We'll regroup and gather more information. This isn't the end."

Harald nodded numbly, though the weight of his failure pressed heavily on his chest. He had promised to find her, to protect her, and he had failed.

But he couldn't give up. Not now, not ever.

His friends had wanted a feast. Harald had no appetite. He might not eat much at all until Karalyn was returned to him, but the celebration they would have on that day would rival any feast ever before held on Evermore.

Harald slowly rose to his feet, his body aching from the battle, but his resolve hardening. He would find Karalyn. He would break the curse. And whoever had taken her would pay dearly for their actions.

As they prepared to return to Fae Falls, Harald's mind was already racing with plans, strategies, and the desperate need to find the woman he loved. The battle had been lost, but the war was far from over.