“I was going to speak to you later today, but I guess this is as good a time as any,” Uncle Gabriel began. “After all that has happened, I think you should have a better idea as to what exactly we are doing.”
“That would be nice,” I muttered under my breath.
“Aurora, you must at least try to understand how important your safety really is.” He paused and gave me a wary, considering glance. “I blame myself. I should not have kept you in the dark. After all, it’s your life and your kingdom that we are fighting for.”
“What do you mean?” My eyes darted between my aunt and uncle.
It was Aunt Serena who spoke. “Morgana is a tyrant. She must be stopped.” She put her arm around my shoulders. “You are the heir of Azaren; you must be the one to take back your father’s throne and end Morgana’s rule forever.”
“Take back the throne!” I was aghast at her proposition. “Are you serious?”
Just because I was the daughter of the real king didn’t make me fit to rule a kingdom. What did they expect from me? A girl of sixteen—with barely any magic—to capture a throne and then run a kingdom? I laughed to myself at the absurdity of that thought. What were they thinking? I was not comfortable with making decisions, especially when it might endanger people. Being anonymous suited me. I didn’t want to be a queen, although being a princess or a duchess would have its perks. I wanted to enjoy my life, but now I realized that a comfortable, stress-free life was not going to be possible.
Uncle Gabriel nodded and his brow furrowed. “You don’t seem to have any sense of responsibility, Aurora. You are who you are; nothing can change that.”
I looked down at my hands. I wanted to live up to the expectations that they had of me, but I didn’t think I could do this; I wasn’t queen material.
“Morgana’s attempt on my life was all part of Lucian’s wayward plans for supremacy over the seven kingdoms,” my granduncle went on. “The archmage wants to implement an old law, one that was done away with centuries ago.”
“What kind of law?”
“He wants to break the treaty of the allied lands and invoke the old title of Illiador as the high kingdom, as it was in the days of old Avalonia, and name Morgana high queen of all seven kingdoms.”
I gasped, disturbed at this new turn of events. “Can he do that?”
Uncle Gabriel nodded. “As archmage, Lucian has sway over both the Council of Thirteen in Illiador as well as the entire Mage Guild. He has also, as we feared, allied himself with the Drakaar.”
“Who are they?”
“Rogue sorcerers, users of dark magic, and not ones we want to be associated with.” He frowned as he gave me a stern look. “They are different from mages, Aurora. They don’t follow the same magical restraints that we do.”
“They are never to be trusted,” Aunt Serena added. “The seven kingdoms only remain safe from them because the Mage Guild has skilled and powerful warrior-mages who protect these lands.”
“What your aunt says is true; the Drakaar are fierce and extremely treacherous. They have no rules or regulations to temper their magic,” said Uncle Gabriel.
“Where are they from?”
“They live beyond the Silverspike Mountains in the land we call Maradaar, or the Darklands. They are not part of the seven kingdoms, and no one has ever traveled into the Darklands and returned.”
“But why are the Drakaar helping Morgana? Don’t they have their own king?”
My granduncle’s eyes narrowed and seemed to turn to stone as he held my gaze. “They do—his name is Dragath. He is a powerful demon lord who ruled these lands in an age long before the seven kingdoms were founded.”
“So where is Dragath now?” A chill darted down my spine at the thought of encountering a demon lord.
“He is long gone. But the Drakaar still worship him like a god.”
“What happened?”
“Some say he’s gone forever,” Uncle Gabriel replied, “but it has also been said that he is still alive, trapped in his magical prison for all eternity.”
“Who trapped him?”
“Auraken Firedrake, the first fae-mage,” Uncle Gabriel confirmed. “No one knows for sure what really happened, but the legends say that Auraken defeated Dragath in an extraordinary magical battle that shook the foundations of our world.”
Aunt Serena laughed at this. “Dragath is only a bedtime story told to children around campfires at night to scare them, Father.”
“Maybe,” said Uncle Gabriel. “But know this: Dragath may be gone, but the Drakaar are not, and they practice a dark magic older than any known to us. Lucian and Morgana are using the threat of the Drakaar to strike fear into the hearts of any that oppose them. After what happened last time Morgana was opposed, everyone is too scared to go against her openly.”
I remembered the horrific story Erien had told me about Morgana in the library, when she seized power after betraying my father and the nobles opposed her rule. How Lucian, on Morgana’s instruction, massacred thousands of families until they all accepted her as queen.
“All the other kingdoms in the treaty have been given a few months to recognize Illiador as the high kingdom and Morgana as high queen,” said Aunt Serena.
“And if they don’t?” I asked. I knew I wasn’t going to like the answer.
Uncle Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “If they do not, Morgana and Lucian will wage war on all the other kingdoms, including Eldoren.”
“And our kingdom will have to go to war after a hundred years of peace,” added Aunt Serena softly.
“Right now, the immediate danger is that Maradaar has already joined Morgana’s army,” said the duke. “At the moment, the northern kingdoms of Andrysia and Kelliandria are in the most peril, as they are located in between Maradaar and us. The Drakaar will attack there first, and unless the dwarves of Kelliandria come to their aid,
