Kingdom's Vice Series: Journey to Alleria ( #1 2014) #Wattys2015

Chapter One

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry if the formatting is weird on here, don't know why it's coming out all spacey. Enjoy! If you want to see more of this story, let me know and when I get the time, I'll write more! I've got about three chapters done so far. **

I guess it’s fair to say his eyes are sapphire blue, since he was from Kennah. His hair obviously didn’t turn that shade of blue by prolonged exposure to the sun either. I can’t read his eyes though, like I thought I’d be able to. I can’t say exactly what I’m expecting. Disdain maybe? Or maybe dissatisfaction with the life he’s been dealt. Either way, I don’t like not being able to read him, it worries me a little. I could take him, if it came down to it. In Bardhelm, they teach you the sword from a young age, should any Kennah natives, delusional with grief or general unhappiness decide to attack. But he doesn’t look delusional with anything other than...determination. Determination to do what exactly I don’t know, but not in my favour I suspect.

‘You,’ says in a voice so deep it betrays his face. His voice sounds older than he looks. Strange. Maybe it’s a Kennah thing. ‘Drop the bag.’ He orders me, pointing to the satchel.

I shake my head. ‘No,’ I reply, ‘It’s mine.’

‘The sapphires don’t belong to you,’ he noted in a firm voice. He’s exerting authority, not something you get every day from a Kennah-born.

‘Well, technically,’ I retort, ‘they don’t belong to you either. The Mines aren’t locked. You’re not exactly making it difficult for thieves.’

He grins and folds his arms across his chest. ‘So you admit you’re a thief, then?’

‘I’m not denying it,’ I say almost proudly. His vice is rubbing off on me. He’s the one who should be cocky and arrogant, exuding his pride like it’s contagious. But, instead it’s me.

‘You’re either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid to be robbing a mine in the middle of the day.’ He laughs, stepping closer to me, so close that the tip of his shoe almost overlaps mine. ‘The sun will burn your eyes.’

I smile into the sunlight as I try to see his face clearly. ‘Already has,’ I say.

I look down at his hands. Cuts cover them, and bruises—the lifelong companion of a flesh wound. ‘Your...’ I’m about to say something about his hands, maybe how nice they would look if they weren’t covered in dirt and blood. His skin would be fair, like mine, but at this rate I’ll never know.

He blocks the sun from my sight, a kind gesture perhaps, or maybe just an opportunity to prove his height (Kennah natives are known for being taller than Ivorians but shorter than Allerians, but mind you, height doesn’t mean anything).

‘So, where you headed?’

I scoff. ‘You really want to know? I’ll tell you. I’m going someplace someone like you wouldn’t dare set foot, because you’ll make all the fish in the water die within seconds of laying eyes on you.’

A look of profound hurt crosses his face and yes, I’ll admit I feel a slight twinge of guilt. Don’t know why.

‘Alleria,” he concludes with a sigh. ‘Now why would you, a humble, self-serving, not to mention stealing Ivorian want anything to do with Alleria? Don’t you know the history of the Pure Allegiance?’

I’ll slap him so help me. I’m considering dropping the satchel and getting straight to it, knocking a few good teeth out of his mouth, to add to the City of Ivory’s collection. After all, the entire city’s architecture is made of bone.

‘Of course I have!’ I snap. ‘They teach us when we’re young and warn us never to forget,’

He wets his lips as he prepares to deliver another cold line with his sharpened tongue. ‘Now either that’s you defying your culture or your stupid overtaking your brain.’ He smirks. ‘Tell me, are you Ivorians born brain dead or do you have to work at it?’