Queen of the Night (Book One of the Elementals)

Prologue

Earth quickly rose to Delack's beckoning, covering him and Yvens like a half-sphere. He slid down against the rough earth in exhaustion.

Horrid screeches and howls of frustration sounded outside as the Fangril demons pounded on their shelter, searching for a way in. Fangril itself could probably easily break through their protection, killing them swiftly with the heavy rubble falling on them. But Fangril held back, allowing its demons to do the job.

How had this happened?

Even as resilient and experienced in fighting as she was, Fire fell first. Light followed her, then the Sun and Moon together. Fangril had picked them off one-by-one. Now, only he and Spirit remained—Delack had multiple lacerations from the snake-like demons' clawed arms and Yvens was missing an arm.

All of them had experience fighting Fangril and its demons. Their group of Elementals was expected to free Ethea from the monster that had terrorized the world for the past three thousand years. What had they done wrong?

Delack knew the origin of Fangril, the Elementals, and the prophecy of how it would be defeated. Even though each had created their own land, jealousy grew among the Elements and their hostility was shared with the peoples of Ethea. The fighting became known as the Selfish Wars.

To punish their brothers and sisters' greed, the Sun and Moon created Fangril—a monstrous being to wreak havoc and deal death on the peoples of Ethea. It wouldn't cease its destruction until Fire, Earth, Spirit, Water, Light, and Air could find unity among each other to defeat it.

He glanced at the dead Elementals around him, who he had grown to consider siblings. How was their bond not strong enough? They had each come from different lands, had overlooked differences, fought, and now had died for each other.

Because of the Elementals' continuous failures, Light's people have dedicated themselves to killing Fangril through countless operations. Their determination has only cost them more soldiers.

So many have died. He had a feeling that the death toll would continue to rise. And for what? A losing battle?

He shook his head. No. It wasn't possible that the Sun and Moon found joy in tantalizing Ethea with a false hope. They may reside in the Silent Realms with the Elements and souls of the deceased, but this was their world too—they helped create it.

"Hope may be lost for us," Yvens began, since he read Earth's mind. "But it will never abandon Ethea, as long as Fangril survives."

He looked at the Spirit Elemental. True to his element, the dark-haired man wore black, had purple irises, and was pale—he had paled even more from loss of blood. Yvens had conjured some kind of block to halt the fluid from gushing out from his missing limb—Delack could see a purple sheen surrounding the nub. They possessed no healing magic, only Xia did, and the Moon was dead.

As the gypsy's words repeated in his head, the Kemiji looked down at his green hands. Delack's blood matted down the fur, lined the grooves in his large palms, had a chipped claw, and another one completely torn off. His spear had been broken; he now only had his element and his own strength to defend himself.

His hands clenched.

Yes. He would continue the fight. Kemiji do not run. Fruitless as it may be, hope would survive even though they would not.

Delack looked up to Yvens' eyes. "We failed today, but our sacrifice will never be forgotten. It will inspire Ethea to hope further. Let us join our brothers and sisters in the Silent Realms."

The gypsy nodded in agreement.

With a loud roar, Delack pushed the earth surrounding them outward, shoving all the demons back and charged toward the writhing mass of black; beside him, Yvens had drawn the souls of all the dead Elementals to him and ran toward Fangril, unleashing his own infuriated battle cry.

The monster never blinked in concern or fear within its cover of darkness. As soon as they drew close, black tendrils of darkness lashed out at them. Delack blocked the tendrils with earth shooting up around him; Yvens had practically split into six forms—one representing each soul he had absorbed—and used a portion of each Elemental's power to protect him.

As they fought off the tendrils, more demons jumped out of the darkness. The last two survivors quickly became overwhelmed. Yvens' silver copy—representing Air—winked out; the blue form of Water was next. A horde of black bodies washed over the regular Yvens like a wave; when his screams abruptly cut off, all copies of him in multiple colors disappeared.

Being the last one of eight, Delack went wild. He fought like a berserk Kemiji, tearing limbs from creatures and brandishing them like his broken spear, biting, clawing, and punching, and smashing packs of demons with enormous slabs of rock. His tribesmen would've been proud—their chieftain didn't cower in fear and hopelessness; he fought bravely even though there was no chance of survival.

The last he saw of Fangril before the swarm of demons took him down was its eyes watching its abominations devour him. They tore at his skin and clothing, sinking teeth into his flesh and slashing his skin to tear him apart. It felt like darkness seeped into him, eating at the muscle and bone. Delack didn't scream; just allowed the pain to consume him, then gladly welcomed the numbness.

One day, you will be free, Ethea, he thought as the darkness covered his mind. Just not today.