Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 49027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 245(@200wpm)___ 196(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 245(@200wpm)___ 196(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Boraleashe thought he’d lived a wonderful life, fighting in numerous epic battles alongside three of the fiercest titans in existence, Notalus, Orestes, and Zepharali Cavalerie. They’d been true harbingers of justice and peace.
If the gods granted him credit for nothing else, he was proud of that.
He whipped his stallion’s reigns left and right, masterfully maneuvering his way through the wide curves of snowdrifts while he thought of the treasure he’d left behind. Despite his love for the cold, he already missed the warmth of Theodor’s wind and the heat of the king’s breath against his cool skin. Boraleashe stayed lost in his thoughts, buried under a ton of hurt and regret, using that pain as a shield against the weather.
It was damn near subzero, far cooler than his world should be, and it would only get worse from here. He remembered a time when the snow was so soft and deep the children used to be able to dive into it headfirst when they played seek-and-find. They wouldn’t dare attempt to now for fear of cracking their skull. The loss of the sun because of his curse had turned the once beautiful snowy paradise into a gray ice land.
Boraleashe rounded the Comsevain Mountains, and his home, the Mirador Keep, came into view. Both of his daughters were there waving from the top of the stairs leading into his residence. The Keep wasn’t a thirty-story palace like Notalus’, or a sprawling solar-powered fortress like in Zepharali’s Summer Lands. No, it wasn’t a monstrosity of wealth and abundance, but it was grand. An ice castle would perhaps be a better name for it.
His home sat atop the Calelow Caverns, which were still rich with minerals and rare stones embedded in the rocks that made up his glass, diamond, and marble palace. But their resources were getting low and not replenishing as quickly as before, but his death—his atonement—would be the cure to all of that. The plague on Amárach would be lifted, and his world could begin to heal again.
“Father!” Kallos hollered before she descended the stairs five at a time, her long, toned legs closing the distance between them. “You’re back already?”
With a long, exhausted breath that came out a thick fog, Boraleashe dismounted Frostreign, hitting the hard-packed snow with a thud. His stablemaster, Mortus, appeared soon after he released the reins and took the horse to be groomed and pampered for the day. He gave Mortus a nod of thanks and turned just in time for Kallos to fly into his arms. He didn’t have to stoop too low to allow her to kiss his cheek since she was only a few inches shorter than him.
“I have not just returned from war, Kallos.” Boraleashe allowed a tiny lift of the right side of his mouth for his daughter. “At least I know I was missed by someone.”
“You were missed by everyone. The house has been so quiet without all of your grumbling and stomping around here,” she laughed with a full row of perfect white teeth.
Boraleashe would do anything in his power to see that smile and hear her boisterous laugh for another two thousand years.
“I don’t grumble,” he muttered, draping his arm over her shoulders.
“You just did!” She laughed even louder, pointing at Boraleashe’s downturned lips.
“I missed you too, daughter.” He smoothed back a lock of her soft white tresses and kissed her temple. He didn’t know why he’d left in the first place. He should’ve been home spending his last days with the little family he had.
“Sooo,” she sang, her beautiful smile bright enough to be his sun. She was the more optimistic of his two daughters. “When do we get to meet him? Is he coming with his court? I can’t wait to see Gold Reaper! I hear it was kissed by a goddess of weaponry before—”
“Don’t get too excited, sister,” Enosabe, the oldest—by fourteen minutes—grated from where she stood stiffly at the top of the stairs with four of her personal guards waiting behind her. “The Treasure of the Realms will not be coming to Amárach… will he, Father?”
Kallos gazed up at him with tears already flooding her silvery eyes. “Please don’t say that’s—”
Boraleashe nodded, his weary gaze meeting Enosabe’s angry one while his other daughter cried in his arms.
“You can’t leave us. Please,” she sobbed. “There’s still so much you have to teach us.”
The curse was supposed to stop him from feeling, but it only blocked the good ones. Boraleashe could feel all his daughters’ fear and disappointment in him, triggering crushing pressure in his chest.
“If there’s one thing I’ve always taught you from the moment you brightened my doorstep, it was how to rule this kingdom when I’m gone. Kallos.” He came closer. “Let me go and clean up after my trip. I smell like I rode in on a dead boar’s hide.”