Of Life and Death: [A Dark Academia Paranormal Romance]

Chapter 1

The reign of Arhuk the first.

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THE TRAVELER

He had just three things to do.

One, infiltrate Necculea.

Two, get a message to the king.

Three, die.

Machovanne pipes heralded the stranger's arrival. His tawny skin was shrouded in black strips of cloth, allowing for only a view of otherworldly eyes and a gruesome scar. The locals, so taken with the exuberant festivities, were oblivious to the danger in their midst.

The towering man cut through the merry throngs, blending into the shadows. He wore darkness like a second skin, the essence far more ingrained in his species than other cross-worlders dared to believe.

Chants rang into the night. A kaş female glowed in the burnfire as she danced around the flames, the coins strung around her waist jiggling. The king's Watch were gathered around the square as well, burnished plates of armour glinting in the flames. In place of swords were hurtling jhars. The Telks didn't fight with swords, not when the ability to throw lethal objects with their minds could do more damage.

The traveller veered off into a quiet path, slinking along the cobbled alley. The beg sat against the whitewashed walls trailed him with bloodshot eyes, wondering at the man's station, his black trenchcoat of particular interest to her. A soaring stone archway saw the traveller's entrance into the guild's quad. Magnificent architecture greeted him. Once he would have stopped to admire the sheer beauty of Necculea. Once. Perhaps when he was a happier man, less burdened with a dire knowledge.

The end was near.

His heavy boots crunched gravel as he made his way up a hill, the nickers of horses becoming evident. The horse with a white streak across its jaw, his accomplice had told him. His eyes scanned the stable now, contemplating the muzzles sticking out of the stalls. His eyes honed in on one in the corner.

More gravel crunched. Soon he was by the horse. "Maiija," he whispered lowly to the beast, leading it out. He made quick work of the saddle, fluidly leaping onto it. With a swift kick in its side, the horse spurred forward.

Hills rolled past. Soon, metal encampments dotted the horizon. Arhuk's intermediate army.

Sure enough, as soon as his horse tore past, the camp stirred, rousing. Bellows soon rang out.

--"Stop, you there!"
--"Halt!"
--"Do you not hear? STOP!"

The man only crouched low, urging the horse faster. Something whizzed across his ear, nicking the lobe clean. Past the hair whipping his face, he threw a glance behind, heart racing. Hurtling jhars hovered around a guard. With swift punches into the air, they swept forward, barrelling for him at frightening speed.

Never breaking stride, the man splayed his arms outward. Instantly, the air behind distorted. The jhars started to rot mid motion. Stripped of their very essence, they crumpled into themselves, landing on the earth.

The guards behind paled. He heard one of them shakily whisper one word. 'Al-Mortem.' Death bringer.

Taking advantage of their shock, he yelled, "Hya!" And the horse took off at breakneck speed.

When the towering gates of king Arhuk's castle came into view, he slowed, leading the horse deeper into the forest. Squirrels scrambled away when he leaped down. Deftly, he tied the horse's reigns to a trunk, loping through a clustered path.

The gate house was scant, missing a few men with the festivals. He headed for the house now, intent on the lever to the portcullis. He attracted the attention of the bored Watch standing post. "State your business," he called.