Not So Innocent (A Dark Fantasy Novel)

New Opportunities

Two weeks before a royal wedding, and the castle was shaken to its core. Once again rumors ran rampant and whispers reigned, however, it did not surround the wedding as it usually would.

Gwyneth had been the high sorceress for as long as anyone could remember. Kings of ancient Catala had inherited her counsel, and the sons of these kings and their sons had as well. An everlasting system for years upon years, now interrupted. It came as no surprise to anyone that the circumstance became the only topic to grace the tongues of the entirety of the kingdom.

There had been another high sorcerer, once. Cyrus The Magical had aided the founding of Catala on Catorada, along with the first king. Gwyneth, Cyrus's own apprentice, had assassinated him as well, claiming the spot for her own.

Lexa recalled the last occasion she stood in this exact spot, with the crowds of the arena roaring and her position on this balcony, like a true monarch. It made her think of how far she had come, how she was standing where the dreams of her childhood had occupied.

She had imagined, though, that this ritual would not have occurred until much later. That she would be the queen to shift Bennie from an apprentice to a high sorcerer.

On the sanded grounds of the arena, Bennie stood surrounded by 10 bounded sorcerers. Each one of these sorcerers shivered in the anticipation of what they knew what would become of them, along with the cries of the packed stands. Lexa, in all of her life, had never seen the arena so full. It made perfect sense, though. For this was the event of the centuries, and not a single soul would dare to miss it.

This was the ritual of a new high sorcerer, the event the differentiated an apprentice from the most powerful being in the land.

Each of the sorcerers would represent their own specialty, forgoing their own lives for the benefit of the next high sorcerer. Some were taken to their knees willingly, some not as much. It was simple to see who those were, the ones who did not feel the need to give up their lives. They were the ones with bruised bodies, blooded wounds, and perhaps most notably of all, a desperate need for survival flickering in their expressions.

The young noble girl for physical sorcery.
The farmer boy for light.
The defiant woman for immortality.

These were the ones who would not wield their lives. Tragic for them, Lexa supposed. If only they were faster, had been a little bit smarter, then maybe they could have evaded the country for their lives.

If they could not keep themselves alive, then they did not deserve to live. Not in her kingdom.

Bennie differentiated from these sorcerers in that he was an omega, a rare type that could wield all the specialties. Omega's, however, could rarely ever use their certain abilities to the point of having the power of being specialized.

Unless, of course, an omega underwent this ritual.

Bennie met eyes with Lexa from where he stood in waiting, that smirk of his teasing her from afar. He could probably sense that she was think of him, relishing in it.

He must have needed something to tease, she supposed. He was about to kill ten people.

"An interesting development, don't you think sister?" A feminine voice crooned beside her. "How...coincidental."

Cleo, with whispers of blackmail and her position as Adelaide's First Lady, had managed to weasel herself a spot on the balcony she never would have been able to manage as simply the bastard of the king.  Will, who tended to dote on his half sister, was quite notably overjoyed by her presence, and Lexa couldn't say that she was unhappy with his distraction. Lately the prince had become pathetically clingy.