Prologue

“Milady?”

She hummed and tenderly brushed away the loose pebbles, revealing a rocky terrain blacker than ink. Soft thuds echoed from behind her as her advisor set his legs down. Once, twice, thrice. Then a clatter as his forelimbs settled on the ground to join his segmented carapace.

“We are being watched.” One of his long limbs twitched towards the right but the Queen paid him no attention.

“My dear Chulsa,” she replied, giving the blistered rock a considering look, “What are you going to do about it?”

In answer, he lifted the very same limb, mandible clicking as the arm detached and shot in the direction of the spy. It was quickly replaced by a replica of the stick-like arm as Chulsa bowed. “As you command, milady.”

Chapter 1 — Spy

“Mother,” he called softly, fingers tapping restlessly on the downy bed covers.

“Yes, my dear.” The Queen shifted into view in front of the window he was looking out of.

“Why are we the only ones that look like we do?” he asked with a serious expression.

“What do you mean, darling?” She brushed his hair back, pausing to inspect his overly long fringe. Having no doubt she was trying to recall the last time he had a haircut, Soranth sighed internally as the last of his hopes of getting away with long hair faded away.

“You know what I mean.”

“Not at all my dear, that’s why I asked!” Her eyes twinkled at him.

He puffed his cheeks out in righteous anger and glared at her. Never one to back down, she too matched his stare with a quirk of her lips. Their staring was not broken by the silence, rather by the fluttering of Soranth’s eyelids, unintentional though it may have been.

“Haha!” She chortled happily, pulling his head forward and planting a loud kiss on his forehead. He made the expected noises of protest but sank into her arms, breathing in the delicate floral scent always associated with her in his mind.

“My darling boy,” she looked down at him fondly with vivid green eyes. “You’re growing too fast,” she mourned, “already thinking about the big world. One day, you’ll leave me and go travel, explore the world, breaking your poor mama’s heart—”

“There’s no way, mama!” He cried, reverting to his younger ways of calling her. “I’ll never leave! I—” he looked up at her hesitantly, “Can’t we just tie it back together?”

She blinked before bursting out into a tinkle of laughter. “Then you say something like this and remind me that you’re still my baby.” She pinched his cheeks.

“Mnot a baby!”

“Of course, you’re not darling. Now,” she patted his pillow in a silent gesture to ask him to lay down. “You asked why we’re the only ones who look the way we do, correct?”

He nodded, blinking away the sleep that threatened to take over.

“We, my dear boy, are what we call humans.”

“He-you-mans,” he repeated obediently.

“Humans,” she corrected, smiling widely. “And we’re the last ones.”

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“The Queen won’t be pleased to know you went further beyond the border today,” Haraldr quipped, panting as he raced across the barren tundra. His bare chest revealed a well-built body packed with firm corded muscle. His vermillion skin almost matched the dusty trail he was leaving behind him as sturdy feet, equally red, met the earth in hard, ground-shaking thumps.

“If you don’t tell her,” Soranth answered, whipping sweat-flecked wisps of brown hair away from his face, “she won’t know.” His words were kept short, minced as he saved his breath for running.

With the only sign of exertion being the beads of sweat that trickled down her forehead, Haraldr's sister breezed past them. Her slender feet left no marks in the ground, making her the perfect scout during the day and deadly assassin by night. Valda’s skin was equally crimson and shared the same rock-like traits her twin brother bore. Her shapely figure tapered into lean muscles right down to her slim wrists. She and Haraldr had an extra set of joints in their fingers, resulting in longer, more capable fingers than Soranth. It had led to more than a few mockeries made of Soranth when he accidentally dropped or lost his sword.

“You know she will,” Valda returned, “she always knows.”

“Oh, here we go again,” Haraldr rolled his eyes.

“Just because you have problems looking past your next meal doesn’t mean everyone else is like you,” she sneered.

“You always always talk about the Queen like that.” He shifted to a high-pitched voice and waved the frivan caught on the end of his spear to emphasise his point. Its floppy wings dangled strangely in the wind with the spear pierced straight through its rounded bob tail and furry body, protruding cleanly out of its neck. “The Queen is so great, she farts and rainbows come out. The Queen is so great—”

He didn’t get any further, however, as Valda let out a battle cry and threw one of her many daggers at him. Haraldr let it collide harmlessly with his spear, giving it no further thought even as it veered dangerously toward Soranth. “I’ll get you for that,” he roared, finally slowing down along with Valda as they circled each other.

“Hey. Hey!” Soranth snapped angrily. Their eyes darted to him. Recognising the annoyed stare, the siblings quickly straightened. “Sorry,” the younger male apologised automatically.

“Do you even know what you’re sorry for?” Soranth demanded. Haraldr ducked his head as his sister let out a scornful laugh. He attempted to elbow her with his inhumanely sharp elbow—an attempt that Soranth knew would bruise him if he had been the target—but she brushed it away with a slap of her fingers.

“Valda, your brother was baiting you so you shouldn’t have fallen for it so easily.” Her eyes fell and she hung her head as Haraldr jeered. “And you!” Soranth pointed at him. He snapped at attention, his hand rising into a salute without even consciously realising it. “You baited your sister so it was your fault too. But,” he glared at them, “ignoring the fact that you two almost killed me in another of your fights again, Chulsa’s sent a clone to get us. Something must have come up at home.”

They looked at the wall of trees in the distance and spotted the small green and grey stick figure waving its forelimbs. With its transparent wings, it could have easily flown over to them but for some odd reason the trio couldn’t figure out, it seemed to copy the original Chulsa who had his wings broken long ago so it trailed uselessly behind him.

“Come on,” Soranth prompted urgently, suddenly eager to see his mother again.

“Yes, my prince,” the siblings murmured behind him as they jumped into motion together with him.

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“What’s wrong mother?” Soranth said, dropping his spear that had two frivans skewered through. He swept up the stairs to her, taking in her ethereal form with wavy auburn hair that framed a pixie-like face and the same stubborn nose that he inherited. Large, jewel-like emerald eyes equally searched him from top to toe for any injuries. While there had been one small scratch from a silly mistake of scrapping his elbow against the rock while setting up a trap for the frivan, he wasn’t about to bring it to her attention when she looked so worried.

“Milady,” Haraldr and Valda bowed from the entrance of the rusted black iron gate.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she smiled up at him as he gently took hold of her arms.

“What’s wrong mother?” He repeated softly, guiding her back into the castle foyer.

“There’ve been reports… oh Chulsa, you say it!”

Her ever-present advisor drew forward, his many legs clacking on the cracked marble floor. “My Prince,” he said with a low bow.

“Please Chulsa, you know there’s no need,” Soranth said in a pained manner. Having known the arthropod for his entire life, he had begun to regard Chulsa as his grandparent-like figure years ago.

“Even so,” he said, mandible clicking together slowly. Up close, Soranth could see the thin network of fissures in the plates of his thorax that Chulsa claimed was the result of raising an over-enthusiastic baby like him. “We’ve received sightings.”

“Sightings? Of what? The big smoke from the big big hill again?” Haraldr snorted, referring to an old faun that had been insensate with rage that they were doing nothing about the volcanic eruption that had blocked his view of the sky for days on end.

“Not this time,” the Queen answered, looking grim.

“What’s wrong? What’s happening?” Soranth repeated for the third time, feeling annoyed that no one was answering his question.

“Creatures that move in the dark, my darling boy.” She looked up and he struggled not to react out of shock from the trace of fear in her eyes. “Shadows that no longer wish to be concealed.”

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Running through the woods blindly was never something Kobal thought he’d end up doing. His long tail kept getting caught in any possible thing that it could get caught on. Holding it up would ruin his already lacking balance. The short fur on his face and chest had long since lost its shiny appearance, taking on a dull look as it was ruffled by the twigs and branches slamming into him.

Perhaps he should have just gotten hit by that terrifying creature guarding the Queen, then he wouldn’t have been placed in this resulting position. In truth, he hadn’t even seen the blade-stick thing that came rushing at his head. It had been sheer luck, or unluckiness in his case, that caused him to drop the small dagger that had been entrusted to him and bend down to pick it up.

Footsteps that had sounded like they’d been right on his tail slowly drew further away as he somehow weaselled his way through the smallest, quickest way out of the forest using a little-used trail he had somehow stumbled upon. He simply could not understand his people’s insistence on staying in the forest—it seemed like a more hazardous pastime than prodding sleeping Slyrdion hounds.

Or perhaps, that danger was reserved just for him and his clumsiness. At that thought, his scaly tail snagged on yet another shrub, causing him to stumble to a painful halt. “Become a spy,” he mimed, bobbing his head to emphasise his point. Thanks to his short arms, the weasel-lizard hybrid had to bend low to the ground on all fours to pull out his tail from the mess it had gotten itself into. “I’ll reward you,” he continued in a higher pitch.

“Who’ll reward you?” The flat of the blade came to rest between him and his tail as a deep voice spoke from behind him.

“Ah de-de-dear me,” he stuttered unintelligibly, falling to the ground and rolling around to face his captor. It had to be sheer injustice, he swore inwardly, to be faced with the chemycus as his enemy. Especially when he was all alone. In enemy lands. Why, oh why did I leave my comfortable den that day again?

He struggled not to whine in fear as the man and horse hybrid flicked the side of his long salt-and-pepper moustache with the tip of his spear. “Speak, weasel!” the chemycus demanded.

“Th-tha-that’s a very sharp spear you’ve got.” He gave the royal guard a weak smile, recognizing the deep green sash slung over its shoulder. “I like it. How much did—”

“Speak!” the guard thundered, pressing the blade against Kobal’s neck.

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Kobal whimpered. “Please don’t kill me, please please don’t kill me, please I didn’t do anything, please I don’t want to die,” he blabbered before repeating himself all over again.

“This is useless, we’ll never get anything out of him!” the chemycus growled at its fellow guards, stomping the butt of his spear on the leaf covered ground. Kobal saw an opportunity and took it. He leapt forward, praying that his tail wouldn’t get stuck again, right between his ex-captor’s four legs and underneath its long tail. He felt a brush of wind right next to where his scales met the fur on his body as the guard tried to pin him down.

On all fours, he shot toward the end of the trail but already knew he wouldn’t make it. The chemyci were notorious in the warrior society for their speed and ability to use it efficiently. And he? He was a little weasel hybrid that couldn’t even get close enough to spy on the Queen. He couldn’t even secure himself a place in the forest along with the rest of his people.

I give up... He thought, slowing down. Just let them take me.

His clumsy fingers let the leaves slip from his hands as the thought crossed his mind and he came to a halt on the roots of a tree. Or so he thought because suddenly, he was falling, falling, falling and all he could see was black, black, black.

“Now spy.” The disembodied, guttural voice jostled his confused mind into a state of mild panic.

“M-master?”

“Tell me all you know.”

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“So what are you going to do about it?” Haraldr drawled, leaning against one of the fluted columns on Soranth's balcony.

“About what?” he answered in an uninterested tone, staring at the familiar sight outside his bedroom window. Soranth, dressed in comfortable black pantaloons tucked into high boots and a green vest with billowy sleeves, was lying on the silk sheets of his king-sized bed, contemplating if one of his arrows would reach the frivan hovering at the borders of the forest.

Verdant foliage enthroned the castle in all its glory, growing not only around but inside the castle walls itself. Many towers in the older wing had long succumbed to the call of nature, leaving crumbling bricks and hanging bridges that led to nowhere.

The trees, Soranth was convinced, were growing outwards, overtaking more and more of the desolate landscape as he grew. His mother had never outright stated it but the boundaries of the forest signified a sanctuary for all creatures that couldn’t survive in the harsh rocky or icy wastelands beyond their borders. Water, like food, was another scarcity that their sanctuary had in plenty. The water flowed from a crevasse in the rocks that their castle was perched on, tumbling down in a white frothy chaos right beside the castle.

The waterfall was almost as tall as the towers next to it, splitting into a network of smaller rivers further ahead. Had his mother not been a permanent fixture in the castle, he would have undoubtedly used a nearby tower as a jumping platform before diving into Rahab Falls. Though the climate in Maraciel hovered several degrees above freezing, the waters in the rivers were always warm thanks to a nearby volcano that dominated the western horizon.

Clouds of ash in the distance blotted out stars in a never-ending stream as Mt. Zarphan prepared for its third eruption. The molten lava never reached their lands, drying out in a black amalgamation of baked rock and brittle bubbles over the icy plains. Their hunting had taken them close to the volcano beyond the dusty red plains. The ground there was rough and treacherous as large cracks ran through the wasteland. Patches of land were known to suddenly drop, falling away into an unexplainable black abyss.

Perhaps these were the shadows Mother spoke of? “Valda, do you remember seeing any strange black creatures while we were hunting?” Soranth spoke suddenly, ignoring Haraldr’s yelp of indignation at being ignored. “Valda?” He repeated when the silence grew long. He turned his head.

“Who’s a good boy? Yes, you are.” She rubbed her cheek against the long black fur as her hand affectionately rubbed a pair of bat-like ears while the other hand scratched under a scaly chin. The nagacougar mewled eagerly in response, bowing and flexing its long body. A tail as sharp as the rapiers she carried flicked across the floor of the bedroom so quickly all that could be seen was a black blur. Her pet’s elbows extended into curved spikes that came close to shattering the last pillar holding up the ceiling as it rolled around in excitement.

Soranth winced. “Valda, get your psycho pet out of my room before it breaks everything!”

The mewling stopped. “He didn’t call you a psycho, baby, and even if he did you’re my psycho!” It growled agreeably, butting her head with a sharp black beak. “I’m sorry I left you, sweetie, I knew you would spoil the hunting for these two children because you’ll catch more than they could ever hope for.”

“That’s not true!” As expected, Haraldr’s reply was no longer than a beat behind. He came stomping back into the room. Soranth groaned as new cracks formed in the marble tiles. This was already his sixth bedroom after knowing the twins for nearly a decade.

“Out, out! All of you, get out!” He stormed from his bedroom. They trailed behind him, trading subtle blows while the nagacougar followed expectantly. He led them up and around a winding staircase built of rotting wooden steps framed by a delicate iron filigree balustrade. The bricks in the walls of the tower showed more wear as they climbed higher, opening up to a circular room with a caved-in roof.

Moss and lichen covered most of the walls while large green fronds burst through the debris in an obstinate display of determination. The ever-soft glow of the stars caressed the worn arches of stone pillars that led out to one of the magnificent bridges that spanned across the castle. The party of three and one psychotic pet walked out trustingly, ignoring the creaking moans of old stone.

High in the air with no handholds to speak of, Soranth didn’t give the ground a second glance as he perched at the edge of the broken bridge. Haraldr dropped down next to him as Valda settled comfortably at their backs, her pet resting its gigantic head on her lap. Silence dominated the twilight tableau as the trio repeated a scene they had carried out so many times in the past whenever one of them needed comfort or counsel.

The bridge, originally intended to connect two towers that the ancient castle boasted over a running stream of water, had long since lost its other partner as the tower succumbed to wind and trees. It now rested in a mound of stone on the ground surrounded by fragile walls no taller than Soranth was. He looked at it now, cataloguing the great oaks that rose from the rubble with bright green epiphytes and low shrubs.

Plants like these could only be found here, in their little green kingdom. Anywhere else, as far as the eye could see, as far as living creatures could travel, was a barren wasteland of crusted ice and harsh arctic conditions.

Apart from the red tundra to their west and the gentle slopes of Mt. Zarphan in the distance, their forest was the only redeeming feature of the entire planet Earth. Valda sighed from her view of the crumbling castle, smoothing her pet’s furry mane where it joined with the rest of the scales of its body.

“Haraldr is right for the first time,” she spoke first, referring to the initial question he had asked. Her twin merely grunted, not feeling up to rising to the bait as usual. “Is there anything we can do, Max?”

“I wish I knew,” Soranth said, bringing one leg to rest his chin on while leaving the other one dangling over the abyss. The black combat boots he had inherited from his father almost blended in with the darkness of the forest, if not for the silver laces his mother had weaved from the shimmering leaves of the ironically named tree species goldenglow.

“If I did, I would have told you.” He turned his head to look past Haraldr’s profile, still resting his cheek on his knee. Many times he’d been told that his resemblance to his mother was uncanny, right down to the piercing green eyes and stubborn nose. However, the cleft in his chin was entirely his father’s, as his mother liked to tell him every so often.

“You don’t have to figure this all out by yourself you know.” Valda reached up to pull his braid: a ragtag collection of feathers, string and a Slyrdion hound fang held together by a complex mess of brown curls. Haraldr had thought about copying Soranth’s warrior braid as he jokingly called it, but instead decided to tie his own trophies around the hilt of his favourite sword.

Valda’s mementoes from the Slyrdion hound were strung up around her neck, having claimed two fangs as a prize for getting in the killing shot. They were separated by a sizable blue gem that she had found on one of their many forays. Haraldr, in an expected fit of jealousy, claimed that he too would find a necklace worthy of him and, to her delight, had yet to find one.

“We can go hunt for them!”

“Hunt for what, stupid, we don’t even know what we’re looking for!” Valda smacked her brother’s head none too gently, prompting a soft growl from the nagacougar as its pampering came to an end. “I’m sorry baby, mama loves you,” she cooed into its leathery ears, rubbing the scales running down the underside of its neck.

Haraldr mimicked vomiting over the side of the bridge. “What happened anyway?” The twins hadn’t been invited to the council meeting his mother had had, leaving Soranth to fill his friends in with the details.

The prince sighed. “Mother was spied on.”

Valda gasped, both hands leaping to cover her mouth in horror. Haraldr just looked at him, aghast.

“Chulsa took care of it of course,” Soranth said with a small quirk of his lips but his eyes were still clouded with worry. “But that isn’t the only thing.” He looked back out at the dark eastern sky as it met the white wastelands in the distance. “Fauns from the western borders have been reporting strange movements and loud noises at odd hours.” He turned back to face them. “From the western plains.”

“Wha—" Valda began, her brow furrowed.

“But there’s nothing there!” Haraldr protested. “Only frivans. And frivans can’t do anything for themselves!”

“I know,” Soranth replied grimly. “They grow fearful and ask mother’s permission to move closer to the castle. She granted it of course.”

“But we were just there!” Valda cried. “We didn’t—we didn’t see anything, did we? Did you?”

They shook their heads and lapsed into silence again.

“We might be called to battle.”

“I could become a hero,” Haraldr grunted, flexing a muscle.

“You’re more likely to kill yourself trying. And I’ll end up saving your rock of a skull and become a hero myself.”

“We could die,” Soranth interrupted before the fight could escalate. Neither of the twins knew what to answer and even if they did, they didn’t get the chance to say it.

The nagacougar whined, sensing the tense atmosphere and proceeded to do something that usually succeeded at making them laugh. It placed heavy claws on Haraldr’s back and pushed. Of course, it seemed to have completely forgetten that they were on a bridge hundreds of feet above the ground.

Haraldr went down with an unholy shriek, flailing in the air desperately as Soranth and Valda peered over the lip in horror. Their side of the bridge was further from Nahaliel River which ran underneath, reducing Haraldr’s chances of landing safely underwater.

“Haraldr!” Valda yelled. “Could you have been any less careless?!” She shook her head, getting to her feet while her pet stared down in fascination as its victim quickly approached the ground. “Come on, sugarmuffin, we better go get him before he throws another tantrum.” It whistled inquiringly but followed in her steps faithfully. Soranth stared down in horrified amusement.

“Coming, my Prince?”

“I pity the plants.” He shook his head and rose. “Won’t he be hurt by a fall like this?”

“Oh please,” Valda said with a snort. “The only thing that would hurt is his ego.”

“And we wouldn’t want that now, would we?” He grinned. She threw a mischievous grin over her shoulder and tossed her gleaming white hair back.

“Are you kidding me, Max? This is so much fun!” She threw her arms up and then turned to her side to rub her pet’s head. “You did well, Pookie,” Valda approved to the nagacougar's delight. It purred, wagging its tail back and forth like a deranged whip.

Unfortunately, Haraldr’s screams had been less quiet than he thought they’d been. The Queen met them at the bottom of the stairs, sending Soranth a disapproving look. He didn’t take it to heart, however, immediately recognising the playful glint.

“Now what did I say about throwing your friends from tall places, Soranth Maximus?”

“Oh dear, the full names are out,” he joked. “Come on Mother, you know you would have done it too,” he cajoled.

“Oooh,” she smiled reluctantly. “Alright, though I might have pushed you instead.”

“Hey!” He cried indignantly over Valda’s choking laughter. “You’ll miss me too much!”

“I certainly won’t miss the noise.” She patted his cheek and rubbed the nagacougar’s ears affectionately as she walked past. “Be nice now, children,” her lilting voice called back.

Haraldr however didn’t seem to have gotten the memo. He burst into the castle foyer, frothing at the mouth with anger. “YOU!” he bellowed across the open space.

“Shut up brother mine, the Queen tires of you,” Valda sniffed, drawing large circles on her purring pet’s scaly underside from where she was kneeling down.

He opened and closed his mouth in anger several times before finally calming down enough to choke out the words, “The Queen... is angry.... at me?! Your pet—” the word pet was snarled with such vitriol even the ferns growing out of the jagged stone walls seemed to wilt. “Almost killed me.”

“And we will mourn the loss of more of your precious few brain cells... oh wait, is there even any left?”

Haraldr roared, charging across the room. The nagacougar jumped up eagerly, darting forward from under its mistress’ tender ministrations.

“Here we go again.” Soranth sighed for what easily felt like the billionth time that day.

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“Milady!” A chemycus Soranth recognised as the chief bodyguard, Nathanael, leaped up the stairs, racing into the castle with a panicked expression. Valda looked up from praising her pet who was licking its wounds in a satisfied manner while Haraldr sulked from next to Soranth.

“Nathanael? What’s the matter?” Soranth rose.

“My Prince,” he bowed. “Do you know where the Queen is?”

“I’m here,” she said calmly, walking down the stairs in her usual way that made her appear to be floating. Chulsa was an ever-present shadow at her back.

“Milady.” The chemycus fell on all fours, causing the Queen and Prince to cry out in alarm while the twins straightened. Chulsa was as unreadable as ever. “Milady, I apologise. It was my arrogance that led to the spy escaping the castle grounds—”

Valda’s gasp echoed all of their expressions, prompting the chief to hang his head even lower.

“I accept any punishment.” Rows of chemyci, all bearing green sashes, streamed in behind their commander, kneeling before the grand staircase. Haraldr jerked slightly, spotting a familiar head of fiery red hair in the crowd.

“Please, get up! Stop this foolishness,” the Queen urged, hurrying down the remaining stairs to stand by the Prince’s side. None of the guards moved, not until the Queen reached out with pale hands to pull Nathanael up. Of course, he refused to let her bear the weight and stood up on his own. The other guards followed in a clatter of spears.

“It’s alright,” she reassured. “It’s alright if you didn’t catch the spy. Of course, it would have been easier—” at her words, Nathanael looked as if he were contemplating throwing himself on his spear, “but,” she hastily added, “we don’t always get what we hope for.” She could see that her words were not helping so, drawing herself up to her full height—which was still a good head shorter than Soranth—she addressed the rest of the guards.

“My dear people.” The Queen’s soothing voice fell over the crowd gathered in their castle. “Let us not focus on mere details. What we have now is proof, undeniable proof that something wicked lives in the darkness. And it’s targeting us.” The crowd didn’t move an inch, captured as they were under the spell of her words.

“We may not have much information but we know where to start looking. Now we prepare as much as we can. We gather up the people, we sharpen our blades and we call for all the warriors to come together! Whatever this is, whatever this wants, we will not let them have it! Together, we can fight back this unknown evil!”

The guards cheered, banging their spears and raising their arms. Soranth wrapped his arm around his mother. Haraldr whistled, cupping his hands around his mouth to yell, “Long live the Queen!”

The crowd picked up his words quicker than expected, turning it into a deafening chant that swelled beyond the deteriorating castle walls.

“Long live the Queen! Long live the Queen!”