Blood Bound ||The Arcane Legacy #1

28/ Deal

The sun was halfway in its orbit, painting the town in yellow. Lylia didn't stop, sliding between people swiftly with her flag of blond hair waving behind her. Seron increased his pace until they ran side by side. In ten minutes, they were out of the festival grounds and in the neighborhood of houses.

Her home came to view and she sprinted inside. Seron ran as her shadow, slipping into the cabin. In the living room, people were sitting on the brown second-hand couch by the wall to Soren's right; two women with a man in-between like they were his bodyguards.

Lylia's father was on the matching armchair across from the strangers. Her mother stood by her husband's right side, the window behind her pouring light into the small room. The curtains shuffled restlessly.

Upon sighting her breathless daughter, Rena engulfed her in a hug, their matching hair tangling in an indistinguishable mass. "What's wrong?" Lylia asked, pulling away to meet her father's brown gaze. "Is there a problem?"

"Lylia," her father, Irac, said. "Sit down." There was something in his voice that made even Lylia sit on a nearby chair.

The unfamiliar man gave Seron a questioning look, and Irac waved a hand after a thorough scrutiny. "It's okay; he can listen."

The man shrugged and shone Lylia a bright smile. He had a bundle of golden hair that skimmed his neck. The shock of blue eyes only accentuated his sunkissed skin. He was a man any woman would swoon over. Seron clenched his jaw.

"Hello, Lylia," the man began, his voice deep and silky in perfect harmony, like a pool of creamy shadows. Seron couldn't help but scowl. "My name is Ronalvo, and these are my companions, Nalia and Zenara."

The one to his right introduced as Nalia nodded her head. Her dirty-blond hair was tied into a low ponytail. A few features made Seron guess she and Ronalvo were related distantly. She turned her pale blue eyes to him and he quickly looked away.

The woman called Zenara, however, had her gray eyes on everything in the room, from paintings to the cabinets with tea sets. Her ebony hair poured in waves as her lips moved, almost indiscernible, in silent words.

"Nice to meet you," Lylia greeted before turning to her father. "What is this about?"

Irac propped his forearms on his knees. "There is something I have been meaning to tell you, though it was to be when you turned eighteen." He gave the three a look. "A secret passed on through our family."

Lylia furrowed her brow. "What are you talking about?"

He sighed. "A long time ago," he began in a tired voice, "when the previous King reigned over Komros, he confided in his closest friend, a Sage of Old. King Tynus told him that the reign of Ephirans had come to an end and that it was time to give up their crowns to the humans. When the Komrosian King informed the other Kings of the lands, he was threatened to keep silent.

"However," he brushed his hand through his thinning peppery hair, "after swearing his silence, he gathered a small audience of his most trusted comrades and proclaimed the Sage his successor. Though it was a secret gathering, word got to the other Kings. No one knew how. Three days later, King Tynus was murdered and replaced by the current King, Levarn. This happened many generations ago."

He clasped his hands together, fingers entwined. "Out of fear, the proclaimed successor went into hiding and started a new life in the outskirts of Darsan. There he lived out his days with his family. But before he died, he told his son of the truth, which was then passed on to his own son, and so on."

Lifting his gaze, he continued, "The bloodline that was tasked with guarding Komrosian land was Hasley."

Seron's ears buzzed as he tried to process the whole story. Lylia's mouth hung agape, nearly dropping to the ground. "What?" she finally gasped. Her head shook slowly. "This can't be true."