Page 146 of A Kingdom of Wild and Power
Torches were lit, their flames bending in the restless wind asthe procession wound its way towards the temple. Wyverians from the nearby villages had gathered along the path, silent and solemn, to bid farewell to their fallen prince. Soldiers—those of highest rank—stood close to their king, armour gleaming dully beneath the grey sky, bearing witness to his grief as though it were a sacred rite.
Kage Blackburn had been laid upon a slab of polished black stone, which rested behind the temple, used for wyverian royals as a deathbed on which to rest before their bodies returned to dust and ash. They had first taken Kage from the king’s arms to wash his body in the sacred pools hidden beneath the temple, water said to cleanse both flesh and soul. Now he lay upon the stone as though merely resting, dressed in his finest black royal attire. A dark crown had been set carefully upon his head.
He truly did look every inch a prince.
The High Priestess approached with measured steps, the hem of her grey robes whispering against the stone. She took Kage’s hand gently into her own and slid the black ring from his smallest finger. Without a word, she turned and carried it to the king.
Adriana watched as the ring was placed into Ozul’s trembling palm.
The priestesses were always unsettling to behold. They wore long robes of muted grey that concealed every inch of skin, and over their eyes lay thin veils of cloth. They were permitted to remove them only at night, when tending the inner sanctums of the temple. During the day they moved as though sightless, yet never faltered, never stumbled.
Adriana had always hated the way they seemed to look at her.
As if beneath those veils, they saw everything. As if they knew, deep in their marrow, what she truly was. For years shehad taken care to keep her distance from them.
Rio Hawthorne stepped closer to Adriana, coming to stand at her side. They did not speak. Words felt too fragile for a night such as this. Instead, they watched in silence as the king approached his son once more and pressed trembling kisses to Kage’s cheeks.
A line soon formed of soldiers, villagers, and courtiers, each waiting their turn to offer a final farewell to their prince. When the last of them had stepped aside, the king moved away from the stone and lifted his head towards the darkened sky.
He called for his wyvern.
The answering screech split the night.
A monstrous creature descended from the shadows, vast wings beating against the wind as it landed mere inches from the king. Adriana recognised it at once—the ancient sire of the younger wyverns gifted to Mal, Kage, Kai and Haven. It was larger than any of them, its scales darker, its presence almost primeval.
The beast loosed a roar that rolled across the temple grounds like thunder.
It sounded like grief.
As though it understood that the rider bound to its bloodline had fallen. As though it felt the rupture in that ancient tether between wyvern and prince.
Adriana’s gaze lingered on the creature, its enormous form silhouetted against torchlight and night. And despite everything unfolding before her, despite the king’s anguish and the murmured prayers rising into the dark, she could not help but wonder how Mal and Ash were faring. Whether they, too, felt the world splintering.
‘I know the king is mourning, but we cannot remain here much longer,’ Rio said quietly, her voice cutting throughAdriana’s thoughts like a blade through silk. ‘My home is in danger. With every passing day, I fear my mother and sister may meet a fate not unlike Kage Blackburn’s.’
Adriana exhaled slowly. ‘The king was always intending to ride out with his army,’ she replied. ‘We were waiting for Mal Blackburn.’
‘We cannot wait for her.’
No. They could not.
Adriana glanced back towards the castle, its dark silhouette carved into the volcanic mountainside. She wondered whether Keir would be strong enough to endure the journey. She needed him to hold on for just a little longer. Needed his power when the time came. But Rio Hawthorne was right. Grief could not be allowed to stall war.
‘We ride for Velunthar in the morning,’ Rio continued, her tone calm, resolute. ‘With your king’s army or without it.’
Adriana’s jaw tightened. The reprimand rose instinctively to her tongue—a reminder that Rio was a guest, that this was a funeral, that some matters deserved silence. But when Adriana turned to speak, the princess was already walking away.
Elowen and Rowan followed like twin shadows as the Fae made their way back towards the castle.
Adriana remained where she stood, then slowly turned her attention back to the temple grounds. She rubbed her arms not from cold, for wyverian blood was well accustomed to the harsh winds but to steady herself. To keep her heart from racing as the king stepped forward and summoned the great wyvern nearer to the stone.
The creature lowered its vast head.
‘Ardere,’ the king commanded, his voice low, hoarse with grief, yet still threaded with sovereign authority.
The wyvern inhaled, its chest expanding like a bellows.
A heartbeat later, blue fire roared from its jaws and engulfed Kage Blackburn’s body in a brilliant, merciless blaze.
