A Kingdom's Secrecy

Prologue

Monius 4, 1575
(3/4/1575)

Fire ravaged through the trees.

A village that had survived centuries was going down without a fight. Its residents couldn't do anything. After all, this wasn't their fault. They'd gone to bed in peace with hopes for tomorrow, next week, next month, next year...

Now they were scrambling for their lives, lifting their children into their arms and rushing out of their huts.

A man walked through the chaos—an invisible force who couldn't call out to anyone or aid in their escape. It didn't matter much to him. He felt used to it by now. But he needed to see the boy who was born three days prior. He needed to know the boy would survive this.

The boy. The reason for the attack.

The cult who covered their faces with purple cloths had found out about the boy. He couldn't be surprised. But that still didn't make the pain any less.

Irma had named the boy Eldon. A powerful name, she'd said as she held him on that first blooming night and fought back her exhaustion. Her wheat-colored hair had clung to her skin, and her breaths had become shallow, but she'd smiled through it all. Even after being told that she'd lost too much blood and needed to be bedridden until she recovered, she still smiled.

And now, not even a full three days later, she ran as fast as she could, clutching Eldon against her chest. Some villagers went with her. All lost, frightened, and officially homeless as the flames claimed everything they'd ever owned. But at least they had Irma—bravest woman they knew—to follow. If she had found the strength to move, she'd surely get them to safety.

The invisible man ran alongside them, too, never taking his sight off Eldon. He refused to believe this was how it ended. After everything, this couldn't be over. Not here, and not like this. He wouldn't lose his last connection to the world.

Their path to freedom drew nearer. They were almost there.

Of course, he should have known it couldn't be that simple, though.

Irma halted as a group leaped from the rooftops of huts still intact and landed in her path. They rose, standing shoulder to shoulder and narrowing their eyes at her as if to say, "Did you honestly believe you'd survive this?"

Then one of them pointed at Eldon. Irma held him tighter, and Eldon began to cry.

"Get away from us!" she hissed at the strangers, making her son wail.

The invisible man wanted to reach out and comfort him, except he couldn't. It didn't work like that.

"Give him to us, and you'll live," the one who had pointed spoke.

"You ain't takin' 'im from me," Irma said through clenched teeth. She shook the way she had the night she gave life to Eldon. Her hair sticked to her forehead and cheeks, too.

"Eldon, Eldon, Eldon," another taunted, like they were testing the sound of his name on their tongue.

Eldon screamed louder. Irma glanced down at him and murmured words of comfort—words only a mother would know to say. She sounded like her usual self—the strong woman who'd joined her husband on hunts before her stomach had gotten too big, and who would cut down beasts whenever they made it too close to Salus. But when she looked up again, her eyes appeared hooded, her tan skin blanched, and a trail of blood trickled through her beige breeches.

The villagers behind her caught her as she swayed. She blinked hard, regaining herself, then she snarled at the strangers.

They were unfazed, humor dancing in their menacing eyes. So, they moved forward, withdrawing daggers from beneath their cloaks.