Kingdom of Carnage

Chapter one

Freedom was an elusive dream; an idea people fantasised about. The shadows were what everyone had to make home.

Ever since war brimmed, fracturing the alliance between fae, the sun's rays had become mere legends, replaced by a relentless, bitter cold that haunted our existence. They said it was Mother Nature's retribution for tarnishing the purity of our realm.

Those who could wield dark magic spells were deemed cursed—unnatural. But I say it's a façade, a mask worn by those who fear others more powerful than them. The high lords and high ladies who couldn't hold such power dreaded those who could harness it. It's why they ordered the elimination of those caught wielding such abilities.

Fear consumed them. Because they're weak.

Thousands of families were destroyed and separated because of the slaughter. And that's what Selene—my mother—helped rebuild. It was a sanctuary for those who rebelled against unjust rules, and an aim to reclaim the land that was once peaceful, embracing individuals regardless of the power they possessed.

I laid beside my mother, clutching her pale wrist as if she might vanish into think air at any moment. Elex, our village's leader, had confirmed her irregular heartbeats and mottled skin were clear signs that she was nearing her end. But this had been our reality for months now.

Every passing day felt like our connection was slipping away.

From the moment she channelled her power that formed the protective dome, she had not awoken. The act had been a defence using dark magic, shielding countless fae from the ongoing war. Her power sustained the barrier for twenty-two years, a sacrifice that cost her own strength and sanity. She never awoke since. Not once. She couldn't muster the energy to do anything but be drowned in slumber.

We believed the dark magic entwined in the weaving of such formidable spells had consumed her, and when it finished consuming her strength, the walls would tear down, leaving us exposed for our enemies to hunt us.

Her shoulder length hair was brittle against my fingertips as I gently combed the hazelnut strands. Every day that passed gave me a glimmer of hope that she'd awake, but deep down I knew her fate would be death.

A soft knock sounded against the cabin's door. "Nyxalia, you ready?"

My pointed ears instinctively stood up as I heard Elex's voice. "Yeah, coming." I sprang to my feet, straightening my fleece lined pants before I headed out the door.

Elex raised his bronzed brows beneath his fur-lined hood. "I thought you were warming up."

I reached for a sword propped up against a tree. "This is my warm-up."

A chuckle rumbled from his throat as he grasped a sword from his back. "Alright, let's hope you're not rusty then."

A silver metal blade pierced through the air, sailing towards me. I'd barely seen him throw it, but I caught the hilt of the lightweight dagger with ease, the metal cool in my hand. "Prepare for a workout, old man."

Before I could strike, he strode forward thrusting his sword towards me. The clash of tempered steel striking echoed through the village. He kept attacking, his stance strong with every movement. My arm was burning from weight of his blows.

As he seamlessly pushed me backwards with his blade, I swiftly slashed my sword at his torso and aimed my mini blade precisely at his stomach.

With a fluid motion, he shifted his weight and brought his sword down, blocking both of my weapons.

He pushed me backwards, but not hard enough to topple me over. "Watch your balance," he advised gently, his eyes fixated on my form. "Every step matters. You're not just dancing; you're wielding a sword."