~A Wattpad featured and Wattys Longlisted story~
Lana can hardly remember what it's like to be free. After nine years as a captive on board a ship ruled by ruthless bounty hunters, sailing across Maris with no clear direction, she's desperate for so...
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AS SOON AS everyone's minds comprehend the fact that the dragon hunters are no longer contained in the outskirts or bay of Orleyn and are here, past every defense this city has mustered, they reach for their swords and start to form ranks.
It is a second too late.
Dark figures burst into the clearing, all wearing black armor that cloaks them in the darkness, indistinguishable save for their movements that give their positions away in the now dimmed firelight. Chaos immediately erupts and the cries of battle and clangs of sword on sword echo through the clearing, quickly overshadowed by the roars of the numerous dragons, and the bright, blinding explosions of magic.
"Protect the king!"
The personal guard form tight ranks around Skye and his father, shielding them from the worst of the danger with powerful magic. Strong hands grip Skye's arm and pull him backwards, away from all the fighting and towards the palace. Guilt shoots through him as he realizes Lana and Bryan are somewhere in that chaos and there's nothing he can do about it as he's roughly pulled to safety, his hands still holding the prophecy.
His foot catches slightly on a step as they start to reach the doors, and he stumbles slightly. The grip on his arm never lessens and the face of a guard fills my vision. "Come on, my prince! We need to go!"
Then suddenly, his world explodes.
A freezing cold sensation rushes over his body as he's propelled backwards, all sense of gravity lost as he flies through the air, landing on the ground hard. The air is crushed out of him, and he gasps, floundering for air as he lies helpless on the hard stone steps, his ears ringing loudly and the world an icy haze.
Skye sits up as soon as he's caught his breath, and through the frosty mist that remains of the icy bomb set off by magic, he sees to his horror that there are countless bodies lying next to him, motionless. Thick and pointed icicles stick out of the guards' bodies, warm blood melting the weapons as it leaks outwards and stains the once pristine stonework. Something wet leaks into the sole of his shoe and he scrambles backwards, panic setting in.
Someone grabs him from underneath his arms, pulling his stunned body upright. "You need to go, my prince!"
His senses start to return to him, the ringing in his ears dying down significantly and adrenaline setting it to fuel him. He nods to the guard in front of him, but before he can even move, an arrow shoots from nowhere and spears the guard down, leaving Skye alone.
For a second, he lets fear overcome him. He stares down at the once very alive guard, unsure what to do, his mind asking a million different questions at once as he simply looks down at the bloody carnage in front of him, his shaking hands crushing the prophecy as emotion overwhelms him.
Firedust quickly brings him back to his senses, his roar echoing louder than anything else in the clearing and Skye can feel him sensing where he is through their bond. The dragon's bright red form leaping over the crowd of fighting warriors snaps him out of his stupor, and despite the guilt at doing so, Skye swiftly plucks a sword from one of the fallen guards, shoves the prophecy into a pocket of his pants, and charges towards where his dragon is landing.
