Chapter 37

CHAPTER37

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, making sure his lips were close to Lore’s ear.

They stood outside the Gloaming, staring together at the castle on the horizon. Lore had made it very clear that she wanted only her and Abraxas to go first. She refused to risk anyone else this close to the battle.

And perhaps, because his Lady of Starlight wanted to give the other elf one last chance. It was an unusual show of pity from her when she so rarely offered it these days. He needed to keep an eye on that behavior.

If she was going to get nervous, or perhaps even lose the ability to see reason at this moment, then he would have to make the choice for her. Margaret knew what she was doing, and what she had done. Margaret was a terrifying beast who had laid waste to this kingdom and needed retribution. They all knew this to be true.

Still, Lore wanted to give her that one last chance. And he wasn’t so sure he agreed with her that anyone deserved this. Not after what Margaret had done.

“Yes, I’m sure.” She kept her eyes on the horizon, not on him. “I don’t want her to feel threatened until the last moment. If I can save us all a battle, then that is even better. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I don’t think it’s likely any of that will happen. I think she will rain arrows down upon us and laugh as we run.”

“Then we won’t run,” she replied.

Abraxas saw it. The darkness in her eyes that had never really gone away since she’d come back to him. The darkness that he’d come to realize was the power welling up inside her until she couldn’t think or breathe through it.

It was... Horrifying.

Wonderful.

A nightmarish twist of the women he knew and a woman he now knew to fear.

But it was still Lore underneath all of that. Still his elf who had come to him in a forest with starlight twinkling on her skin. She was still the woman who wanted to save this kingdom and would stop at nothing to see it returned to its former glory. Or better.

And that meant he had to trust her in this. He would keep her safe. He would become the shield she needed so that she could continue forward and save everyone from this cursed throne.

Nodding, he turned his attention back to the castle, where he could already see soldiers lining up. They’d been spotted, but then again, that’s what Lore was hoping for.

Her dwarven armor gleamed in the morning light. The metal molded to her skin like it had been made perfectly for her. The runes glittered, protective spells ready to beat back any blade that even got close to touching her. She held the helm on her hip, and had promised she’d put it on, eventually. If it came to that.

She rolled her shoulders back, teeth bared in a grimace. “Stay alive for me.”

“It would be impossible to do anything else.” He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. “You lead us all, my love, my life. Your taloned heart will bring us into a new world. Not because of any prophecy or elf that predicted it. But because you have fought tooth and nail to get us here.”

Her fingers flexed against his, and he felt the little breath that came out of her mouth brush his knuckles. When had she gotten so close? It didn’t matter, though, because now she was here and he could smell her and feel her. Their lips touched, clung to each other, with hope and love bursting in between them like a bubble of magic.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I will remember that through all this.”

“We will fight if we must.”

“And we will win.”

She pulled away and Abraxas saw that darkness slide over her eyes. He saw her turn into the goddess before him, the woman who would turn this entire kingdom to ash if she desired, but never would, because she loved the land she walked on with all of her heart.

Together, they strode out of the Gloaming and into the dangerously open fields toward the castle. He could feel their armies behind them. Countless humans who were ready to fight, dwarves in all their armor, magical creatures who had arrived out of the fog to say they didn’t agree with the way their neighbors had been treated. Even the Ashen Deep, waiting in the shadows where they would eventually appear like wraiths in the night.

Their people were ready to fight if they needed to. They all expected this to be a battle. Today they would take back their throne in a single, bloody fight.

Margaret likely thought that was impossible. She thought this battle would rage for months on end as they slowly picked each other off. But that was not Lore’s plan.

It was the only time he’d seen Beauty’s father and the Baron look at her with respect. They knew she could uphold what she was saying. They knew she would make her promise come true.

Even if that meant sacrificing the last pieces of herself that remained.

The guards on the towers and walls all turned their weapons toward Abraxas and Lore. He stiffened, his chest already filling with flames as the dragon in him readied to burst out.

“Not yet,” Lore muttered. “I’ll tell you when.”

He hated waiting. He hated this.

But when he saw Margaret step up onto the wall nearest to them, he knew that settling was the best choice of action. If only to hear what this Darkveil elf had to say for herself.

“You’ve returned,” Margaret said, her voice wringing out in the clearing. “Alone.”

“I am never alone,” Lore replied. And somehow, her voice was even louder than Margaret’s. “But your numbers are few, Darkveil.”

“Not so few when there are trained warriors who have spent hundreds of years learning their craft.”

He watched Lore’s expression, seeing it shift with anger as she stared up at the wall. “Aren’t you missing a few humans, Margaret? I have found them in places all over the realm. You’ve been hiding them away from me.”

“And I had plans for them. But if you want to fight with a few starving humans, then I will let you watch them die.”

A flash of anger turned Lore’s cheeks red. “So you knew they were starving? You knew you had sent them to places where they could find no food. You sent them there to die.”

“I sent them to where they deserved to go.” Margaret thudded a fist over her heart. “I did what you were supposed to do! I became what our people had prophesied when I saw that you would not become that person. I remade Umbra into a better place for our children and our children’s children. Our people were dying out, forced to work as slaves and viewed as little better than animals. Umbra now bows to us, as our ancestors foretold!”

Oh.

Oh.

That was what Margaret had been working for all this time. She thought herself the elf in the prophecy. She thought that she was meant to save this kingdom, because Lore had failed to do so.

Or perhaps she had been working to get Lore on her side simply because she knew that Lore had the power to be the person in that prophecy. And then Lore had gone off on her own. Lore had thought her own thoughts, and as such, that had turned her path away from what Margaret thought was the right direction for this kingdom to go.

Abraxas felt his heart squeeze in his chest at the realization. This was almost... sad. He almost wanted to look at Margaret with pity.

This poor, misguided woman had led all her people into ruin. She’d led them straight into a lion’s den because she truly believed that the gods or their ancestors would forsake Lore at the last moment. That they would see Margaret was right, and the power would transfer over to her.

He stepped up beside Lore, glaring with his mate up in the Tower. “The ancestors and your seers have always seen the future clear and bright. That was the saying, wasn’t it? The elves see the future as we see the sun.”

“You stay out of this, dragon.”

“I will not,” he replied. “If you believe that your seers knew the future, and that there had to be an elf to save us, then you know they were not wrong in choosing Lore. You know the future she has selected is the one that they saw and wanted.”

“It is the one they warned us about.” Again Margaret thudded herself on the chest, and a few elves beside her did the same motion. “The elves warned us of a half elf who would deny her lineage and her people. They warned us she would come to destroy our kingdom and that we must do all that we can to fight her.”

“Twisted words,” he snarled, his lips curling in disgust. “You seek to manipulate the prophecy to fit what you desire, that is all.”

Lore placed her hand on his back and drew him away. Abraxas knew he could not battle this woman for her, but he hated that Lore felt as though she needed to do this on her own. She should not have to prove herself. She should not have to fight so much, but she had and would for the rest of her life.

“Margaret of Clan Darkveil,” she shouted. Lore’s voice thundered through the open field like the bellow of a goddess. “I call upon you to stop this madness now, at the source. You will vow to no longer hunt humans. You will vow that the castle remains open for all those who desire to improve this kingdom. And once that is complete, I will leave this place alone. There will be no bloodshed in either of our hands.”

Only laughter rang out after Lore’s declaration. Margaret’s laughter spread until it was a wall of elves, laughing down at the half elf who dared threaten them.

And when they all finally controlled their mirth, Margaret grasped the edge of the castle with her hands and leaned over the edge. “You seek to threaten us, but we do not fear one such as you. My hands are already dripping with blood, little girl. And so are yours. What is one more battle? We look at a half elf and a dragon, neither of whom scares us. Parlor tricks and a beast we’ve already beaten? You wish us to run from our own fears.”

So that was what she’d told the elves. That Abraxas was easy to beat because they already knew the acid balls would wound him. And that Lore had moved the moon in the sky, but it was only an illusion. That her magic was limited to just illusion meant to scare or that she couldn’t actually do all the things that she threatened she could do.

And as he watched all the elves, their eyes still filled with mirth and their faces wearing wide grins, he realized he was afraid for them. All of these people were going to die because Margaret had lied to them. Because they had trusted that Lore wasn’t a goddess reborn or that a dragon was easily defeated.

“They’re all going to die,” he said quietly. “All the elves.”

“Not all of them.” Lore shook her head and glanced back at him. “There’s an entire clan behind us who listened. An entire clan who heard the truth of what was, and they stuck to that truth no matter how difficult it was to hear.”

“But what of the other clans? Are they so worthy of death if they do not know how to listen?” He shook his head. “These are the last of the elves, Lore. Your people.”

“Then they should have been better.” Little lines appeared between her eyes. A frown, perhaps, or worry that bubbled out of her chest. “They can still run.”

“They have no reason to run.”

She swallowed hard and turned her attention back to the Umbral Castle, where so many wrongs had been committed. She took a deep breath, her shoulders moving with the force of her inhalation, before she tilted up her chin and spoke once more. Her voice thunderous and strong.

“I do not ask you to run from your fears, but from a very real threat that stands on your doorstep. I never wanted to be the reason that there were even fewer elves here. I call upon you all to realize that if we do this, there will be no more elves left. We will wipe ourselves from Umbra until only whispers and legends remain.”

A few of the elves shifted on their feet, looking at each other with nerves before they steeled themselves.

Margaret, as always, wore her bravado like the dark armor she never took off. “It’s just you, Lore. Just you and a dragon and a few mortals who have never fought in their life. You wish me to lay down my weapons at your feet for a threat that does not exist?”

Lore nodded, then lifted her hand into the air.

Abraxas felt the earth rumble as their army stepped out of the trees. Hundreds of dwarves, hundreds of humans, hundreds of elves. All walking as one. Intermixed were so many magical creatures he couldn’t name them all. Satyrs, giants, domovoy, ents, and more. All of them walking as one as they strode across the field toward the castle.

He spun just in time to see Margaret’s face pale. He wondered if this was the first time she’d taken this seriously. Perhaps she’d looked at Lore as an annoying fly that buzzed around her head. Now she realized there was a very real army standing in front of her. An army that would be difficult to defeat.

Except then Margaret bared her teeth at Lore, shadows whirling around her. “You forget the elves have magic. We have fought and trained for years. This castle is ours, and the future is for the elves. You will not take this from our people.”

“My people stand behind me,” Lore called out. “They are here to fight for our home, and we will drag you out of this castle if we must.”

“We will rain arrows down upon you.”

Lore looked up at the sky, and Abraxas knew this was his moment. A blast of power rolled out of him, the loud bang startling many of the elves on the wall as they realized a dragon of his size stood before them. He rose on his back legs, his roar shaking the very stones they stood upon. His head reached up to the same height they stood at, and then he turned his attention to the sky where his children blotted out the sun.

Someone screamed.

“Dragons!” they shouted, and a few elves tumbled down the steps toward the castle. Fleeing the sight.

He roared again and his children echoed his call. Three dragons who had come to take back the dark memories that haunted them. Three dragons who would change this kingdom forever.