Page 37 of Crownless Heirs

Kyron’s voice sliced through the thick silence. “Step aside.”

Vaelric only smiled. “And end this little escapade so soon?” He tilted his head slightly, amusement flashing in his eyes. “No, no, I think I’d rather savor the moment.”

Sorcha barely had time to react before an invisible force seized her. Her feet left the ground, and Magic curled around her body, holding her midair, a crushing weight pressing against her ribs. She fought against it, tried to summon her own power, but nothing came. She was stunned and shaken, her magic locked behind a haze of confusion and disbelief. Vaelric barely looked at her.

Kyron’s blade scraped from its sheath. “Let her go.”

Vaelric didn’t even glance his way. With a flick of his wrist, a crack split the air.

Kyron’s arm snapped. He let out a strangled sound, stumbling back, his sword slipping from his grasp.

Sorcha’s stomach twisted in horror. “Kyron!”

Before she could do anything, Maelan lunged, shifting mid-stride into his jaguar form. Massive and powerful, his silver eyes locked onto Vaelric as his two tails lashed.

Vaelric sighed, barely exerting effort as he flicked his fingers again. Maelan’s body wrenched into the air, hovering mid-leap, his powerful limbs thrashing against unseen restraints. He let out a deep, furious snarl. And Vaelric only laughed. Just then, blind rage caused Sorcha to snap. Heat erupted beneath her skin, a searing force igniting within her bones and the magic holding her shattered.

The moment her feet hit the ground, a blinding glow burst from her, blue flames licking at the air. The force of it sent a shockwave through the clearing, the ground beneath her feet cracking. Her vision blurred at the edges, consumed by a burning rage that swallowed everything else. The giant serpent of light appeared behind her, its massive shape blotting out the sky as it turned its head towards Vaelric. Her body felt weightless, her movements unnatural because she was no longer moving, not in the way she had before. A sword of sunlight and fire blazed in her grip, but the fire didn’t burn her. She felt nothing but anger.

Her voice tore from her throat, filled with fury. “You killed them!

The snake lunged, its massive fangs striking where Vaelric stood. He moved so quickly that Sorcha couldn’t see the movement, and the snake hit the ground with a force that left a crater where Vaelric’s body should have been. The serpent lunged again, aiming not for Vaelric’s current position but where he was headed. The colossal creature writhed through the clearing, its golden scales tearing up the ground as it surged forward. Vaelric’s smirk vanished as he leaped aside. The serpent’s tail whipped through the air with a thunderous crack, the impact slamming into his chest. His sword flew from his grasp, spinning end over end before disappearing into the trees beside him, the force flinging him across the clearing. Vaelric crashed through a boulder, splintering trees and cracking stone, vanishing into a cloud of dirt and debris. Sorcha stood frozen, her breathing strained, the silence stretching for a moment. Then, as the serpent hissed, she took off sprinting towards where he had fallen. Its enormous body surged forward as Sorcha sprinted beneath it, her blade ablaze with sunlight and fire. She no longer cared about answers. He had taken too much from her, and she intended to end it here and now. The dust cloud began to dissipate, and Vaelric emerged from the wreckage. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and he was laughing. The sound creating seething hatred within her, and the snake struck again and again, each impact shattering the earth, gouging craters throughout the clearing.

Vaelric narrowly dodged, golden fangs snapping shut inches from his head. The serpent coiled around him, crushing trees under its immense weight. For the first time, Sorcha saw uncertainty flicker across Vaelric’s face as the serpent’s massive jaws opened wide. Light gathered in its throat, illuminating the clearing with a golden glow. Suddenly, the serpent’s head was severed cleanly from its body. Thousands of golden fragments exploded outwards like a dying star, drifting around Sorcha as Vaelric landed, sword in hand. She swung, but Vaelric was already gone, his body twisting just out of reach. Her blade sliced through empty air, the heat of it leaving the space between them scorched.

Vaelric smiled as he spoke, “Is that any way to treat your brother?” He appeared beside her.

The fire died, and the magic drained from her limbs so fast she staggered, her sword vanishing into nothing. Her eyes widened as she looked to her stomach; pain exploded through her abdomen as he stood there. He leaned in close, forcing her to look up. And there, in the swirling fire of his irises, she saw her. The button nose. The curl of the lips. He was a mirror image of the mother she longed for.

“How could you?” She roared.

She launched herself backwards, blood spraying as the knife left her body. Sorcha flung herself towards him. Steel ground against steel, the vibration rattling the bones in Sorcha’s arms until her vision blurred with tears. She planted her back heel into the dirt and drove her weight forward, slamming her boot into his chest. A sharp, wet crack echoed as Valeric staggered back, his boots dragging tracks through the earth. He doubled over, clutching his ribs, then coughed a dark stream of blood onto the ground.

A slow, mocking grin split his blood-smeared face as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You think you’re her legacy? You’re just a placeholder. I’m the son she never got to know, and I’m here to claim what’s mine.”

The words hadn’t even cleared his lips before she lunged. Sorcha vaulted upward, launching herself off a boulder as she brought her sword down with both hands, aiming to split his skull from above. He stood frozen, eyes closed, but mid-air Vaelric’s eyelids snapped open. A blinding, fiery orange flooded his irises, instantly chased by a roaring flame that bled outward until the whites of his eyes vanished under a wall of fire. Transfixed by his gaze, the blood-splattered scene melted away until she was small again, playing hide and seek. She was crouched low beneath a canopy of golden buttercups. Her fingers stained green with grass, and across the meadow, a soft, familiar voice drifted on the warm summer air, floating closer with every step:

“Oh, wee child of crimson hair, how thy hiding in golden sun makes the fields look ablaze…”

The memory shattered. Vaelric was inches away from her face. The blade drove upward, buckling her armor before she could draw a breath. Blood sprayed, washing away the ghost of the golden sun. She opened her mouth to scream, but only a wet gurgle came out. Her lungs hitched, a violent spasm and she coughed. Scarlet red foam sprayed her chin, bubbling with every desperate gasp.

“Why” she tried to say, but it only came out as a whisper.

His face blurring at the edges as he looked her in the eyes and leaned in, “Rest now, little sister. It's my turn now.” And he ripped the blade away.

The world went silent. She was weightless, falling, before her skull cracked against the earth. The heat of battle vanished, replaced by a bitter cold. Blood pooled beneath her, staining the soil, seeping into her golden hair until it looked like autumn leaves. The silence broke as Maelan leaped, his massive form a blur of silver and shadow, his claws slinging through the air, ripping into him, blood spurting from the wounds.

Kyron appeared beside Vaelric, his knuckles white as he locked his arms around Vaelric’s throat and squeezed tightly. “I’m going to kill you with my bare hands.”

Maelan’s claws tore another deep crimson line across Vaelric’s chest; his flesh shredded to ribbons, but Vaelric only laughed. The sound was gargled as he choked on his own blood, yet he seemed entirely unbothered. Kyron reached for his blade, and when he turned back, his eyes locked with Riona’s.

He was too stunned to react, frozen in time for a moment. “Riona?” His voice shaking.

Maelan leapt to Sorcha, covering her body with his, waiting for another attack. She paid him no mind; she was focused on Sorcha. She lay in a pool of crimson; there was so much blood. Within moments, Riona held Vaelric as mist curled around them, vanishing into the shadows. Maelan landed in clouds of mist, but nothing was there. He searched frantically, letting out an angry wail that shook the trees and even the gates rattled. Noctis was howling from the treeline, and Maelan screamed for her to come, but Noctis kept howling and wailing as she ran back and forth. That’s when Maelan saw it; she kept hitting an invisible wall. She kept running at it, over and over. She would vanish and appear miles away in another area around the treeline, just hitting the same wall. Panic flooded Maelan as Kyron was kneeling beside Sorcha, hands on her wounds. Her blood didn’t just bleed crimson; it flowed like living fire, twisting in golden swirls before fading into smoldering embers.

19

Tuatha