One week. We've been stuck in this velvet-lined, gold-plated cage for an entire week.
"Kill him. He's breathing too loud."
The voice scratches against my cerebral cortex like a rusty nail on slate. I ignore it. The voices have returned, but they're still just a whisper. Maybe because I'm still young.
I stare out the window. The world drags by outside—gray forests, fog-choked fields. Opposite me sits Eamon. He's eight, but he has the eyes of a nine-year-old who's seen too much. The soft roundness of childhood is gone, replaced by hard angles. He's asleep, head resting against the upholstery, but his hand is white-knuckled around the hilt of his short sword. He doesn't let go. Not even in his dreams.
Next to him sits Aurora. She's reading a book on advanced mana control, turning the pages with an air of utter boredom. Maelis sits beside me, her hands twisting nervously in her lap.
And Daemon... he's at the far end. Upright. Arms crossed. Eyes closed. He looks like he's dozing, but I know better. He hears every heartbeat in this carriage.
I look back out the window. My heart stutters.
Kai. The demon I beheaded two years ago. He's jogging alongside the carriage. His head hovers inches above the stump of his neck, tethered by invisible strings. Blood splatters against the windowpane with every step he takes.
He grins at me. "Well, little Kael? Excited for the capital? There are plenty more people like me there."
I blink. Kai is gone. Only my own reflection stares back at me from the glass.
"We're almost there," Maelis says gently. She smooths her dress, her anxiety palpable. "Are you children excited?"
"No," Eamon answers instantly. His eyes snap open, awake in a heartbeat.
"Why should we be?" Aurora adds, slamming her book shut with a dry thud. "We are the King's children."
CRASH.
The carriage shudders violently. A heavy blow strikes the roof. Wood splinters. The horses scream in panic, and the carriage skids to an abrupt halt.
"Bandits?" Aurora asks, stifling a yawn.
"Or monsters," Eamon says, drawing his sword.
I don't move. It was inevitable.
Mother clings to Daemon's arm. "Daemon! Wake up!" She shakes him by the shoulder.
He opens his eyes slowly. "What?" he asks, his voice thick with feigned lethargy.
"Bandits!" Mother screams. "We're being attacked!"
"About time," he mutters. He looks at me. "How many?"
I reach out with my senses. "Twenty. Weak mana signatures."
"Pathetic," Aurora scoffs.
"Can I?" Eamon asks eager.
"No," Daemon says. His voice brooks no argument. "The three of you will handle this."
"Are you insane?!" Mother shrieks, horrified. "You handle this, Daemon!"
Daemon ignores her. He doesn't even uncross his arms.
"Don't worry, Mother," I say calmly, opening the door. "I've got this."
"No! We've got this!" Eamon shouts, shoving past me to get outside.
Aurora sighs, sets her book down, and follows us at a leisurely pace.
Outside, it's chaos. We've stopped in a narrow gorge. High rock walls loom on the left and right—the perfect ambush point. The two guards who were driving come running toward us, trembling.
"Prince! Princess! Stay inside! We're surrounded!"
"It's fine," I say, waving them off. "Take a break."
I scan the area. I see archers on the ridge lines. Swordsmen blocking the road ahead and behind. What a route... it practically screams 'ambush.' I glance back at the golden carriage. Daemon knew this. He chose this road and this gaudy vehicle specifically to bait them.
"Hey, you there!" a rough voice bellows.
A massive figure steps forward. Skin the color of bruised moss. A goblin. He's dragging a sledgehammer that looks heavy enough to crack a castle wall. His aura is stronger than the others—the leader.
"What are you little brats doing out here?" he mocks. "Did your mommy and daddy throw you out as bait?" He laughs, a filthy, grating sound.
"Well, I hate to disappoint you," the goblin continues. "We aren't usually slavers; we're robbers. But we'll sell you anyway. Judging by that carriage, you come from a fat noble family. That means gold."
He stalks toward us with long strides. "If you're good little brats and don't try anything stupid, we'll tie you up without too much pain. Better for you—and better for us."
I look at Aurora. "Do you want him?"
"After you," she says, crossing her arms. She wants to see my strength.
"You should go first," I counter. "After all, you're the strongest among us."
"True," she grins. "But this trash isn't on my level. He's on yours. You handle it."
"I don't think Mother would approve of the big sister sending her little brother into the mud first."
"She'd be proud," she shoots back. "I have great faith in you."
We're arguing. In the middle of a battlefield.
The goblin leader stops, confused. "Uh... hello? Are you even listening to m—"
SPLAT.
Something round rolls to my feet. It's the goblin's head. Eyes wide, mouth half-open.
The headless body stands for a moment longer, then tips over like a felled tree. Behind it stands Eamon. He grins at us, his sword dripping blood.
"If you two are going to argue, I'll just take care of it."
Silence.
The bandits stare at the corpse of their leader. Then, panic breaks out.
"He... he killed the Boss!"
"That little monster!"
"Kill them! All of them!"
Bows are drawn. Swords unsheathed. The mob surges forward.
"Okay," Aurora says, sounding bored. She takes command. "Kael, you take the rear. Eamon, you take the front. I'll take the flanks."
I nod.
"Got it!" Eamon yells, charging into the crowd with a laugh.
I turn around. Five men are sprinting toward me.
>> BLESSING OF SPEED <<
The world slows to a crawl. The first three bandits are moving through molasses, their swords raised high. Too slow.
I snatch a sword from one of them, grab his wrist, and twist.
>> BLESSING OF STRENGTH <<
The bone snaps with the sound of a dry branch breaking. Before he can scream, I drive my fist into his throat. He drops.
The second comes from the left. I duck under his swing and kick out at his knee. It buckles backward with a sickening crunch. A quick jab to the temple, and he's unconscious before he hits the dirt.
The third hesitates. Mistake.
I jump, driving my knee into his face. His nose shatters, and he stumbles back. I land, cleaving him in two from shoulder to hip.
The archers above loose their arrows.
I see them coming. I roll to the side. The shafts bury themselves in the dirt where I was standing a split second ago.
I grab a stone from the ground. With the Blessing of Strength and mana flooding my muscles, I throw.
The stone flies like a bullet. Impact. The first archer tumbles from the cliff. I repeat the motion. Twice. Three times. The archers fall like ripe fruit.
The remaining bandits behind me try to run. Too late. I am faster.
I glance at Aurora.
She's running up the sheer cliff face as if gravity were just a suggestion. She uses pure mana under her soles to kick off the air itself, landing in the middle of a cluster of archers. A scream. A body plummets down the cliff. Then she leaps to the other side.
Could I have done that?
I clench my fist. No. Not as gracefully as her. Her mana control is perfect.
I look ahead. Eamon is sitting on a pile of corpses, wiping his sword on a dead man's trousers. "Done!" he chirps.
Aurora lands next to us. Not a speck of dust on her clothes. "That was fun," she says. "Finally, a little diversion."
The carriage guards are staring at us, jaws unhinged. "What... what just happened?" one stammers.
"Back on the horses," Aurora orders. "And drive faster this time. I want to arrive sometime this century."
We climb back in.
"Man, I'm tired," Eamon yawns.
"Children? Are you unhurt?" Mother gasps, frantically patting us down for injuries.
"Yeah, all good, Mother," Eamon laughs.
"They weren't even opponents," Aurora says dismissively.
I sit down and say nothing.
Daemon opens one eye. "Well done," he says. "Let's move."
Several hours later. The sun is setting.
The carriage stops again.
"What? We shouldn't be there yet," Mother says nervously.
"Not bandits again," Aurora groans. "This is getting annoying."
Eamon jolts up. "What's wrong?"
"Bandits. You have got to be kidding me," Daemon says. He sounds annoyed. Two attacks in one day? Given the route, I'm not surprised.
He opens the door.
"Can I come?" Eamon asks.
"No," Daemon says coldly. "I'll handle this. It'll be faster."
He steps out.
Suddenly, a thick, acrid smoke floods the carriage. It's sickly sweet and heavy, filling the small space in seconds.
Mother panics. "What is this?!" She's breathing fast and shallow.
"Mother, calm down!" I shout. "If that's poison, you can't inhale so deep—"
But it's too late. Maelis slumps over, her eyes rolling back in her head.
"Mother!" I scream, shaking her, but she's limp.
Suddenly, I feel a weight on my shoulder. Eamon falls against me. His eyes are closed. "Eamon! What's wrong with you?!"
I look at Aurora—she's sitting motionless, head lolled to the side.
I look out the window at Daemon.
"What is happening?!" I scream at him.
He doesn't help. He doesn't move. He just watches me through the glass. His gaze is as calm as if he were watching a sunset.
Dizziness hits me like a hammer. The world starts to spin. I slide off the seat onto the floor of the carriage. I stretch my hand desperately toward my father, but he doesn't lift a finger.
He just watches as my vision tunnels.
It can't end like this... I think.
Then the darkness swallows me whole.