4: Darken War

6: Alexandria

Chapter Six: Alexandria

The next morning after speaking with James through the fire, I rose slowly from bed. The stone beneath my bare feet was as cold as ever, but I'd grown used to it. I looked over at Helga, still snoring lightly on the cot tucked into the corner of the room. She wasn't exactly what one would call pleasant—sharp-tongued, grumpy, and far too fond of gossip—but her presence had kept the silence at bay over the past four days.

I made my way to the bags I had never quite unpacked and began rifling through them. Eventually, my fingers brushed against the silk of a simple purple gown. It was elegant but understated, clinging to my form with gentle grace, the deep V neckline and open back leaving little to the imagination. I had no need for armor today—when I wore it upon arrival, it was purely ceremonial. Here, in this place of political snakes and stone walls, words were my weapons.

Once dressed, I crossed the room and sat before the sturdy desk, where the little jewelry box Carlisle had packed for me lay closed. I opened it gently and plucked out a fine silver comb. Carefully, I began combing out my golden hair, letting it fall in waves over my shoulders. When I was done, I retrieved my dagger from my boot and used its polished surface to center the delicate chain crown upon my head, the amethyst stones gleaming faintly in the dim torchlight.

Today, I decided not to wear any additional jewelry. The golden markings etched into my skin—like delicate leaves wrapped in flame—were enough. They shimmered faintly, remnants of divine magic carved into my flesh by birthright and battle. They were the only proof anyone needed of who I was.

I took a steadying breath and turned toward Helga, nudging her shoulder. "Helga. Wake up. I'm expected in court soon."

The older dwarf groaned and rolled to face the wall. "Good thing Master Theo said he'd fetch you this morning, then."

"That would've been nice to know before I got ready," I muttered, rolling my eyes.

I grabbed my bow and quiver, strapping them to my back. I never went anywhere without them. This weapon had once been a sword, the blade that housed the Great Dragon's eye, now reborn as a bow that could split the heavens. It was not just a weapon—it was a part of me. If I was to die, it would be with this in hand.

A knock sounded at the door.

I opened it to find Theo standing there, still dressed in his usual gray robes with that damn gem gleaming on his chest. "Good. You're ready. Leave the weapon."

"That's not an option," I said coolly. "This bow is more than a weapon—it's my soul made manifest. If it makes you feel better, I can transform it into its sword form. More symbolic, less ranged threat."

Theo studied me, then gave a short nod. "Very well. The bow will be fine. Come."

He motioned for me to walk ahead. As we made our way through the dim corridors, the silence between us grew heavier.

"So tell me, Theo. Why am I needed today?"

He didn't hesitate. "Because war is inevitable. And we must decide whether keeping you here is wise—or if we should end you now."

I blinked. "I see."

I turned slightly, walking backward with a dry smile. "You do understand that killing me might not be as easy as you think, yes?"

"We shall see," he said with a wicked smirk that made my stomach twist.

Eventually, we reached the grand double doors of the throne hall. A pair of elderly dwarves pushed them open. One of them called out, voice echoing across the chamber:

"Presenting the Great Dragon, Queen Alexandria Darken."

The hall was filled with stone-faced dwarves—guards, council members, a few nobles—and seated high upon the throne was King Thrain. This was the first I had seen of him since I arrived, and the change in him was startling. His once-strong posture sagged, his face pale and drawn. Shadows circled beneath his eyes. He looked more corpse than king.

I walked to the center of the room, just before the throne, and dipped my head in courteous respect. "What can I do for you this fine morning, King Thrain?"

I felt it—the subtle pulse of energy. Theo was using the gem on him again.

"It has been decided," Thrain said, his voice slow and toneless, "that you are too much of a threat to allow to live. You shall be executed. At once."

Several guards stepped forward, hands moving toward their axes and hammers.

I didn't flinch.

"You do realize what a mistake that would be, don't you?" I said calmly, ignoring the men circling me. "I came here in peace. I chose neutrality. I agreed to stay so this war could be fair."

"That may be," the king said, standing shakily. "But the others fight for you. They follow your word. If you told them to stop, they would. But you refuse."

"Because I didn't start this," I said flatly. "You summoned me. You chose to test me. And now you wish to destroy me for the fallout of your actions?"

As I spoke, I focused—not on the king, but on the gem's influence. Slowly, I began unraveling Theo's control, pushing his power away from the king's mind. I could feel it—the tension releasing, the fog lifting. Thrain's eyes began to clear.

But then—

Agony ripped through me like lightning. My knees buckled, and I gasped, the connection breaking. I looked up, gritting my teeth, and saw Theo holding the gem out in front of him. Its light was blinding.

"You're draining me," I spat.

"Indeed," Theo said. "You're not the only one who can draw power from a Dragon's Eye. You've been leaking magic since you arrived, and I've been quietly collecting every drop."

I drew my bow and transformed it mid-motion into twin swords, their blades glowing faintly with what little magic I had left. "I'll give you three seconds before I carve you into pieces."

Theo only laughed. It was a cold, mocking sound. "You are already too weak to fight us off. You just didn't notice it until now."

He wasn't lying. My strength was almost gone. I'd been so focused on the court, on playing the diplomat, that I hadn't noticed the drain. I'd walked into a trap.

"My powers regenerate," I said. "When they return, I will come for you."

"You won't live long enough for that," he said. Then, with a flash of power, he struck again.

I collapsed.

My head hit the stone. My vision swam. My body felt heavy—too heavy to move.

He knelt beside me, his voice barely above a whisper. "Don't worry. I don't plan to kill you. I plan to send you back to your friends. Alive. Broken. A message."

I tried to speak, but my voice caught.

"Too bad," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from my face, "you didn't recognize me sooner. I suppose you wouldn't. It's been a long time, sister."

My eyes went wide.

"What... did you just say?"

He smiled darkly. "Our father sends his regards."

And then everything went black.