Page 4 of Her Ivory Flame

“Who would I tell?”

“Actually,” his hand rubbed the back of his neck while averting his eyes, “we need to talk.”

She could see his body tense and her gut started to twist with anxiety. He never showed up in Royal attire and hardly ever brought up things happening in the castle.

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Let’s get inside and talk.” He grabbed her hand and started to pull her towards the house. “Plus I’m hungry and can smell that delicious food you are making.”

After a while of eating and catching up with short conversation topics, she could feel the tension start to fill the air and her heart started racing in anticipation of what he was putting off telling her. Silas glanced at her every so often, a look of unease filling his eyes and it made her stomach twist. There must have been something bad happening in the capital for him to be this on edge.

“So, want me to tell you the good news or the bad news first?” Silas asked hesitantly and set his fork down on his now empty plate.

“Always the bad first.” She sighed.

“War is coming again, Alyra.” His eyes watched her carefully and she felt her shoulders tense. “Mavros has built an army behind his borders again and from what our spies have told us, his numbers are staggering.”

Her mind went quiet for a moment, the reality of his words crashing down on her like a cold tidal wave of water. Another war so soon and the same two kingdoms fighting again. Why?

“How did he get an army that size so quickly?” she whispered, her eyes not leaving his.

“He found The Book of Trenches, we still don’t know how, and has now formed an army of new creatures. The spies said he has reanimated the dead he lost in the war and mutated them in theprocess. We have just been calling them Trenchers and they are not pretty.”

Her blood went cold, the thought of such a thing being possible made her want to throw up all the food she just ate.

The Book of Trenches was an ancient text made by the old Fae gods so long ago the people thought it a myth. Fae and Valkyrie alike had looked for it before but it could never be found. She wondered how Mavros was able to get a hold of it.

Fae magic was powerful, she would know because she was the most powerful born in the last millennia when she had her powers, but bringing back the dead was never an option. There must be a spell in the book that enhances the powers of the wielder that broke magical laws, it was the only explanation.

“The good news, not that you asked yet, is that we think we know a way to kill them easier. As of now we have to cut their heads off to make sure they stay dead and the enemy has been sending them out in small groups testing for weaknesses and mutating them differently each wave.” His voice had hesitation in it and she clasped her hands on the table to keep them from shaking. “We need you Alyra, no one else can help us.”

Her breathing stopped for a few seconds while her mind tried to process his request. They needed her, which meant they needed the Ivory Flame, her magic that she inherited which she no longer had full access to. She was the only one that was born with it which was why Mavros wanted it so badly.

“You need the Ivory flame, not me,” she mumbled. “You know I can’t help you.”

“Your magic isn’t gone,” he tried to reassure her.

“I’ve tried for a century to break that wall down to get it back Silas, what makes you think I can get it back now?” She pulled her hands from the table and ran them down her thighs a few times to try and calm herself.

“I have a theory, but you would have to come back to Elnora with me. Please Alyra, you know if Mavros wins, we will all be doomed.”

Mavros.

The Veiled King, or at least that is what he called himself. He was the brother of Emris, the King of Ambros, and was scorned by an old feud from dozens of centuries ago.

The Dissension was the climax of their feud and both sides lost many needless lives due to their rivalry. No one could find the reason for the feud, just that it had been going on since the beginning of Emris’s rule.

It was said Emris gave Mavros his own part of the kingdom to try and reconcile, but that ended up being a huge mistake he now couldn’t fix.

Mavros closed it off and claimed it as his own, which only fueledEmris’s rage.

She knew just how cruel Mavros could be from being his prisoner for three months after the war. Nightmares of that time spent on his stone carving slab haunted her almost every night, and he was the reason she lost her magic.

“My people were betrayed by someone in Emris’s command. I can’t trust that won’t happen again.” She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms.

“Then don’t trust anyone, but if we got your magic back then we would stand a chance of this kingdom surviving. Maybe we can even get you back to Mydalsa and you can rebuild your own kingdom.” He leaned forward and his face fell into a sympathetic glance. “If we don’t win then even little towns like yours will be destroyed and the people enslaved.”

She let the faces of Victor and Elias pass through her mind and she felt her heart suddenly feel heavier. She was great with a sword and mediocre with a bow, but if Mavros’s army came to this town she could not protect it without her magic.