*Book One of The Accursed Chronicles*
August was a man from a normal world, living a mundane life until one night everything changed, and he was sent spiraling into a world stuck forever in winter, full of magic, creatures, and a curse that has grip...
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After we had used back passages and side roads to escape the castle, we had taken to the darkness of the city, hidden in the shadows of the night. We avoided braziers lighting pathways and the guards that patrolled them. The city itself was unaware of the chaos that had ensued within their own home as everywhere was still and quiet.
I doubted that would be the case when morning came. I knew that everyone would hear of Magnus's and Arethusa's deaths, and that both would shake Krak to its core. I didn't want to be anywhere near Darrose when that happened because I didn't want to imagine how Altair would spin the story, shifting the blame to whoever he wanted. The only ones who would know the truth of what had occurred would be us and them, and between us and them, no one would believe us.
When we had arrived at the headquarters, Leuthar bolted the front door shut with every latch and bolt known to man. He placed one last wood beam in place to secure the door and placed a spell over the door before he came back to me, to help me with Ronan. Ronan had grown as cold as ice in my grasp and his face had paled.
With each ticking second, I worried that he was going to die. It felt wrong for someone as strong as him to die to something as weak as poison. He wasn't meant to go like this and not so soon either.
Me and Leuthar lugged Ronan into the round room and over in front of the hearth. We lowered Ronan to the ground as carefully as we could, placing him on his back. I kneeled beside him and couldn't take my gaze off his still features, no smoldering look nor warning glare. None of it fitted him.
Then when a fire roared from the hearth, I gasped and looked up at Leuthar. He had lit a fire using his magic.
"The nightlock," I began with wide eyes.
"It'll have worn off by now," he replied when he had turned back to me and Ronan, glancing down at us. "It's effects only last as long as you are exposed to it."
I nodded, trusting his words. He then clenched his fists at his sides before he spun on his heel and walked heavy-footed away from us.
"Where are you going?" I called after him, straining my neck to see him over the table.
"To find an antidote!" he shouted, voice distant as he disappeared out of my sight.
Alone with Ronan, I felt the walls begin to close in on me. I swallowed the lump in my throat as I reached with a trembling hand to hold his. He still felt frigid in my grasp, except if I focused, I could hear the hum of his magical aura and the beat of the Vale within his veins. It was softer than it had been as he continued to decline right before me.
I'd only known him for over a month, and while I knew that wasn't much time at all, he'd been the only person I'd grown attached to. As distant as he was, I had seen sides of him that had told me he wanted more from this life and that was something I was willing to help him achieve, if only he would fight. Damn it, he had to fight.
