Spirit of the Light

Chapter One

"As Queen of Ohren, I demand it of you!"

"As Princess of Ohren, I will never marry him! Leave me alone."

"This isn't negotiable, Seraph. The kingdom is relying on you. Your people are relying on you. Your family expects it of you. Do not raise your voice at me. Prepare yourself and start acting like the princess our kingdom is in dire need of." Queen Shachar glared at her daughter with her golden flecked, brown eyes – a trait which was forever strong in her bloodline.

Her mother was not going to stand down.

Seraph spun on her heel, making her way to the exit of the throne room. Heart thudding against her chest, blood boiling beneath her skin. How dare her mother demand this? Marriage to a stranger from their rival kingdom. Prince and heir of the Dusk Region? He is their enemy! There must be another way to save their kingdom from jeopardy.

Slamming the door behind her, Seraph left her mother gawking at her disobedient daughter. It was appalling to think that selling her middle child to a foreign kingdom was a rational idea.

Nothing made sense. The sudden urgency to be sold abroad. The hostile treatment from her own mother. Marriage to a kingdom her parents had resented since the beginning of time. Seraph wanted answers. So, when her feet took her to the ancient doors of the Royal Library, she could only hope she would find some meaning to what was happening.

With trembling hands from the anger preparing to let loose, she pushed the doors open, revealing the large scape of the Royal Library. Shelves and shelves covered every wall, from top to bottom. Aisles of wooden shelves filled with books surrounded Seraph in the open area. The room was larger than a ballroom, with no end to the perimeter of walls in sight. Seraph always wondered what else this region of the castle held. It was said that this library was as ancient as the primeval magic which once dwelled in the lands of Trevelia.

Before the people of the land were mortalised by the gods for their greed of power, magic ran through the veins of many in the royal families of Trevelia. Mortal and immortal beings lived in harmony until war broke out between the kingdoms.

Trevelia consisted of three main kingdoms which opposed each other as oil and water does.

Seraph is Princess of Ohren, the light region, the largest, most vibrant corner of Trevelia which is situated far up north, away from other territories. Since the war between the ancient Kings and Queens of Trevelia, life has continued separately in each of the kingdoms.

Ohren has always been in close opposition with the Region of Dusk, soon to be inherited by her betrothed, Prince Coulson. She supposed their families expect to form an alliance between the two kingdoms.

She should oblige. She should want to make peace in the lands as princess of her people. But why so sudden? Her parents always warned her to stay away from their centuries old enemies.

Her tanned fingers lightly grazed the dusty books in front of her. Historical texts. All written by her ancestors and scribes of the castle during the days before war.

She just wanted answers. Any logical reasoning to her parents' decisions.

Her fingers stopped.

This is what you are looking for.

It was almost as if the book was calling to her. She was pulled to pick that one up. So, she did.

Seraph heaved this abnormally large book from the dark corner of the shelf. It was heavy. Heavy and old. Riddled with scratches, claw scratches. Scratch marks from an animal she had never studied. Markings she could not comprehend covered the entirety of the dark leather, embedded with gold and ashes.