Governor Riser groaned, collapsing into his lush, crimson chair. He exhaled mightily and then groaned.
“Micah Champlain, take a knife against your throat and end your life.”
His most loyal soldier proceeded to obey, taking his knife and pressing it against his neck. But then he stopped.
Riser looked up, quizzical when he didn’t hear the spurt of blood and drop of his body. “Did you not hear what I commanded? I cannot have your mistake come back to haunt me. Slit your throat right now.”
Micah pressed the knife deeper, but something stopped him from slicing through. He looked around. The other soldiers watched him in confusion. Some looked sad. For others, creeping confusion and anger enveloped their stares.
I… don’t want this.
For the first time in his life, he disobeyed an order. Micah dropped the dagger and dashed out of the hall. Streaking through the murky halls of Soto Silver, he ignored the commands chasing after him, echoing in livid force. Vacant halls, crumbling marble columns, tattered tapestries clinging to walls by their last desperate threads – all passed in a blur. He moved silent as a shadow. With purpose. Lightning fast.
Bitterly cold mist seeped through his mask. The way out was close. Furious charges of treachery trailed behind, searching in the darkness but unable to find him. Accusations of betrayal Micah no longer understood. He had been taught to obey, to the extent of taking his own life if demanded of him. And in the short sixteen years of his life he had never failed. Absolute unwavering submission – the creed of the Black Sons. Had Governor Riser ordered him to slit his own throat just one day before, he would have done it without a moment’s hesitation.
She had done something to him. The Moon Eye Child broke him, and now there was no turning back.
I want to live.
He picked up a faint shuffle, tapping footfall on a desperate hunt. He burst forward with greater speed.
“He’s here!” the frantic shout came.
Micah dashed left. Three ringing objects whizzed past his ears. Pursuing footsteps multiplied. He spotted the way out, unguarded, and flew through the hall, arms trailing behind him. The border of faint moonlight around the door guided his exit, and with a swift shoulder, he plowed through, blasting it from the hinges. A harsh wind battered his face, tiny freezing daggers a million-fold. He ignored it, jetting down the stairs winding around the tower.
Immense waterfalls formed a palisade to surround the ancient castle, consuming it in mist and a distant, pervasive roar. The waterfalls emptied into a canyon so deep, the bottom could not be seen at night. Yet not a wisp of cloud lingered above, making the castle appear to float in the sky. The mist made everything slick, but Micah couldn’t afford to slow down. He didn’t know what to do or where he would go, but he had to get away. The single idea pumped the very blood in his veins.
He reached a small landing and dashed for the next flight of stairs. A door in the tower suddenly burst open, and a petite body flew from the entryway, slamming into him and sending them both crashing to the ground. They slid across the wet stone to collide against the balustrades. A feminine cry drowned in the howling wind.
Micah leapt to his feet, hand on his sword and ready to attack. But he lowered it when he recognized the bouncing blonde curls and impossibly large dress. Her eyes bulged in recognition as well.
They pointed and shouted in sync. “You!”
He grabbed the young girl’s arm, pulling her up. “You’re still here?” he growled. “We thought you escaped.”
“I’m trying!” She attempted to pull away, but his grip tightened. Fear littered her face. “Let me go! Please let me go!”
He took her other arm. “What the hell did you do to me? Since last night, I can barely think straight. Now Riser wants me dead. He thinks I helped you escape.”
She cowered. “I-I just freed your heart. Please don’t hurt me.”
Her right eye, normally blue, turned a violent shade of purple, glowing with unnatural light. The color filled her iris, save for a sliver in the shape of a crescent. Micah flinched, his gut reaction to seeing her power again after what it did to him the previous night. But he realized she was using a different magic now.
So, she truly possesses the eyes of the moon, he thought to himself, loosening his grip on her arms.
It was no wonder the governor wanted Charlotte Goodsteel so badly. Micah didn’t know nearly enough about the other Sealed Eyes, but he knew this one.
“Waxing Gibbous,” he said, letting her go. “Which means you should know by now that I have no intent to harm you.”
“Then what—” She gasped when dozens of men, fully armed, swarmed up and down the stairs to converge on them. She backed into the banisters, shivering in fear.
One of the men, wearing the same black gear and mask Micah wore, pointed at him. “You were helping her escape. You are a traitor.”
Marshall sinKalem, a fellow commander and Black Son. Micah would have been able to dispatch the force surrounding them, but not accompanied by a man as dangerous as Kalem. Fighting wasn’t an option.
“Incorrect,” Micah replied, backing up a step. “She has been hiding inside the castle the entire time. I just found her.”
“It does not matter. You disobeyed an order. A rogue Son cannot exist.” He drew a short sword at his side, a crooked blade with verdant runes carved into the flat. “Hand over the Moon Eyes.”
Micah backed another step, steady hand on his own sword. The soldiers closed in. Charlotte clutched his sleeve, and he looked down at her. A tear trickled from her glowing eye. “Please, Micah,” she whispered. “Help me.”
In a split moment, he made his decision. He turned without a second thought, swung his arms around Charlotte, and leaped over the banister.
I want to live.
Charlotte screamed at the top of her lungs, groping at his body as they plummeted into the immense canyon. In one motion, Micah produced a black gemstone from his jacket, clutched Charlotte close, and uttered an incantation. Raw magic surged from his spirit, converted by his spell and shaped by the crystal. Shadows seeped from his back to consume them both. Wings of dark flame spread out from the cocoon, then a head and feathery tail. The black fire-form bird beat its wings to slow their descent and then shot through the air, keeping them safe inside its belly. But Charlotte still screamed and squirmed, surrounded by shadow and unable to see anything but the long fall to icy crags and a pitch-black void.
“Stop panicking,” Micah shouted, struggling to hold onto her. “We’re safe. Just hold still! Stop, stop!”
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
She couldn’t hear, twisting wildly, and Micah lost his grip. She dropped out of the bird and plunged back into the abyss, screaming ever more. He released his spell, the shadows dispersed, and gravity snared him in a headlong pitch. He stretched his body, cutting through the air to catch up to her.
A vile screech came to his hearing over the howl of the wind. Micah twisted his head. A giant eagle trailed close behind in pursuit, talons aching to run him through. Three of Kalem’s soldiers jumped over the banisters. Their bodies were abruptly consumed in flashes of light as they transformed, and three more eagles fell in behind the leader.
Micah’s mind raced. He focused back on Charlotte while drawing his sword, a jagged blade of pure glass emerging from a silver handle. He had a minute at most before hitting the bottom of the canyon. It drew close, a desolate field of mud and ice cut by the massive river of the waterfalls’ spillage. Charlotte was within reach now, but she whirled haphazardly through the air. She had passed out.
“Goodsteel, wake up!” he shouted.
He reached out his arm to grab her foot, but the eagles made their move and attacked. Micah sensed them and whirled, flicking his arm in three furious strikes. The glass sword dealt precise, nonlethal wounds across the chests of three of the birds, scattering them with painful cries. But the fourth rammed him from behind. The immense eagle ensnared Micah’s body with its claws and snapped at him, but he twisted and shoved the massive beak away. Spinning wildly as they grappled, he and the flying beast fell faster with the force. Charlotte rose above them, limp in her tumble. A thousand feet remained before impact.
The eagle turned its attention and snapped to grab her, but Micah pulled at its leg, forcing the creature down. It kicked, squawking a high-pitched cry. Micah freed his hand and drove his sword into the bird’s belly. The flesh split open, spraying his arm in blood, and the glass blade snapped free to lodge itself deep inside. The eagle shrieked and shook free.
The ground loomed. Three hundred feet. Two hundred. Micah sheathed his broken sword and reached out. He snatched Charlotte’s leg, whispering the incantation again in a flurry. One hundred feet. Fifty. Micah could almost smell the mud and ice. Shadows exploded from his back, wings beat furious. He pulled Charlotte in, and the blackness enveloped them. With one last mighty push, the new magic bird leveled out, zooming over the ground. It was so close, Micah could touch it. The bird flew faster, rocketing into a dense black forest.
Settling down in a small clearing, the shadows melted back into Micah as he landed on his feet, an unconscious Charlotte in his arms. He dashed for a cluster of pine trees with black needles and set her down. He slowed his breathing and listened. Despite the late summer season, it was like dead winter at the bottom of the trench, a world dark and silent. Freezing mist filled his throat like a suffocating rag, but he focused. No sounds of flapping wings, no snapping branches – nothing met his ears.
They would know better than to follow me down here.
He turned back to Charlotte. To his surprise, she was awake, sitting up. Her right eye exploded with a purple aura once again, this time split down the middle, half black, half white. Micah stumbled back, lifting his arms to shield himself, but it was too late. He’d looked into her eyes, and now she had him. In a single moment, the little light surrounding them was snuffed out, and he found himself in that world again. The world of her making.
Not again…
She appeared as a giant, towering twenty feet over his head with arms folded and a defensive scowl on her face. It was only an illusion, an image she was impressing on his heart, and the black environment was but a mental plane projected by her magic. But her control over him was absolute – this was the power of the Waning Half Moon. He crossed his arms in front of him and crouched, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good. Until last night, he had not been familiar with this power. But from the whispered and fearful conversations of his men, he knew the magic’s name.
The Sealed Eye of Pegasus – Heartbreaker.
“Stay away!” he shouted. His voice shook, but he couldn’t help it.
“Relax,” she replied. “I won’t use my magic on you again. Right now, we’re inside your heart. I just wanted to talk somewhere you couldn’t hurt me.”
Her voice was like a melody. Micah vaguely remembered how fascinated he had been when they conversed the previous night. Deep within the castle, as he stood watch over her within her cell, she got him to talk to her after persistent effort. For hours, they had discussed a whole range of topics. He somehow couldn’t resist. The comforting sing-song tone of her voice filled every word she spoke. The governor’s other guards called it “cute,” but he didn’t understand this word.
“I wasn’t planning to hurt you,” he said. “Didn’t I just rescue you?”
Charlotte puckered her lips. “Yes… yes, you did. But, well I’m sorry. You confuse me. You just threw me off a cliff for heaven’s sake! And didn’t you say last night you were one of the last Black Sons?”
“Yes.”
“And don’t they have to obey any orders from the king or governors, no matter what?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you run? Why did you let me get away?”
Micah felt frustrated. “I was hoping you could tell me that. Whatever power you used against me knocked me unconscious. When I revived, I was surrounded by the other servants, and you were gone. It was my duty to guard you, and I failed. When I explained what happened, Riser didn’t seem to believe me. He said he couldn’t take any chances, and he ordered me to take my own life.” Micah lowered his arms and stood straight. “I felt… bitterness well up within me. He said it so casually, as if telling me to take out the garbage. I immediately drew a knife to obey, but then…” He paused, mind churning but still finding no answer. “I just decided I didn’t want to die.”
“Well, of course,” Charlotte exclaimed. “Wouldn’t that be obvious?”
“A Black Son doesn’t hesitate. We are the guardians of Carnel, its greatest line of defense. Our obedience is our strength – something to be counted on, for we are weapons at the king’s disposal. You did something to me last night, and now I’m not acting as I should… or I don’t think I am…”
She pressed a finger to her chin in recollection. “You had something sealing your heart, and I destroyed it. It looked like a shackle. Maybe you weren’t thinking right before what I did, and now you are. If you ask me, it’s a pretty sad life if someone else can command you to kill yourself and you have to do it.”
“I… suppose I can’t argue with that.”
“But why would the governor want you dead?” she continued. “You didn’t help me escape. Why wouldn’t he believe you?”
“I do not know. When you were captured, he told me your fate was death. I asked why, but he wouldn’t give a reason. The king, one month ago, told me personally he wanted the Moon Eye Child alive, but when I told the governor this, he dismissed it.”
“He wants to kill me?” Charlotte shrieked. “Why? Why does he want to kill me?”
“I do not know.”
“Do you think he’s working behind the king’s back?”
“I do not know.”
She began to cry. “This is unfair! I didn’t ask for this. Why do they keep coming after me? Just because of my eyes. It’s not like no one else can do what I can.”
“You’re the only one with all seven. In fact, you’re the only person in recorded history with more than one Sealed Eye.”
“Well, so what? I can’t even use all of them.” She wiped her tears. Frustration and loneliness filled every part of her face. “Why can’t they just leave me alone?”
Micah didn’t know why this was happening either. But like him, she just wanted to live. They had that in common. In his heart, among the myriad new emotions he experienced this day, he knew somehow that he wanted companionship. He wanted hers.
“We both need to leave Carnel,” he said. “Otherwise, we’ll never stop running until they catch us. Why don’t we run together?”
She stopped crying and looked down at him. Her immense body shrunk to normal size, and she approached him, hands clasped at her chest. “R-really?”
“Yes. We can… figure a way out. Work together. And when we’re safe enough, we can part ways.”
Her eyes flickered in several directions as her mind seemed to toss a self-conversation back and forth. “I don’t really have anywhere to go now.” She smiled radiantly, teary eyes shining. “So, I think that’s a good plan.”
Micah extended a hand. Charlotte looked at it curiously. He now felt anxious. “Isn’t this what one does when they agree to a partnership?” he asked.
“You’re weird,” she said, taking his hand and shaking it with vigor. “But I think I like you.”
“You are most definitely the weird one,” Micah said with a sudden stubbornness. However, he smiled behind his mask. “But I think I like you, too.”
The ethereal world she created disappeared, leaving them back in the forest, still holding hands. Charlotte’s eyes rolled back, and she slumped. Micah caught her before she hit the ground.
“I suppose you can only use that particular Sealed Eye so many times without rest,” he said.
He examined her carefully. Golden hair in long ringlets dropped below her shoulders, framing a smooth, pale face. A red dragonfly clip graced her temple. Her cheeks were small and supple, red from the cold and aglow from her tears. The pinkest of lips pouted naturally, and a rich, flowery scent cascaded from her neck. Micah studied her for several minutes, amazed by his own thoughts. For the first time in his life, he recognized this concept of beauty spoken of so often by nearly all human beings. But not only did he comprehend it, he also somehow recognized just how beautiful she was in comparison to other people or objects commonly acknowledged as such. As people say on only the most exceptional occasions:
She was lovely.
His face felt hot, and he forced his mind back on task. He had to find someplace warm. Gently picking up his new companion, he dashed deeper into the forest. Yes, running. This is what they needed to do now.