Page 27 of A Kingdom of Wild and Power
She looked to the Fae at her side, those bright green eyes fixed wholly on her, full of words left unsaid. Words snatched away by the evening breeze.
Words that, as she had already recognised, would mean nothing in the end.
“May the shadows guide your way” was born in an age of war, when Mal Blackburn reigned as the first wyverian queen. In those days, she wielded her god-gifted power without restraint, bending the shadows themselves to her will. Across the chaos of the battlefield, she sent them slithering and stretching like living things, guiding her soldiers towards their enemies. Darkness became her instrument; the land itself seemed to breathe with it as she unleashed shadow after shadow to swallow those who dared oppose her. And so the wyverian army became something more than feared. It became legend. For when their enemies glimpsed the shadows creeping across the earth, silent and inevitable, they knew what followed close behind.
Doom.
And the wyverians? They did not flee from that darkness. They trusted it. They followed it, allowing the shadows to lead them, certain that wherever they stretched, victory would be waiting.
Tabitha Wysteria
Mal watched as most of the servants departed at Ash’s warning. Only a handful remained behind to tend to Adriana, Keir, and Cronan, who would stay at the castle in their absence to warn the king and his army the moment he returned.
She helped her mother mount Umbra, the queen’s own wyvern. Ayaru, who had once belonged to Haven, wouldfollow close behind. Ash would ride Daku, Mal would take her own mount, Nyx, and Nisha would remain behind for Adriana and the others.
Unease stirred within Mal at the thought of her mother riding alone, but she did not voice it. Instead, she squared her shoulders and gave the signal to depart. Her mother was queen of the wyverian lands. They were not weak.
‘May the shadows guide your way,’ Mal said, moments before her shadow wyvern unfurled its vast black wings and hurled itself into the sky.
She did not know where they were headed, only that they would follow Ash, who had glimpsed her uncle’s hiding place in his visions. Mal did not like the plan. A quiet suspicion coiled in her chest: this journey was not merely about evading Persephone. There was more to it, something yet unseen.
And soon enough, she would learn what it was.
They flew above jagged volcanic mountains until the land finally surrendered to the coast. Mal watched the famed black sands unfurl beneath them, the sea beyond as dark and restless as ink. She found herself wondering what lay past those storm-lashed waters—if there was anything at all—and whether, one day, she might uncover a world hidden beyond their own.
They followed the shoreline for hours until pale cliffs rose ahead, jagged rock clinging to their sides and towering over the sea. Ash signalled for them to descend to the sands below, and Mal offered no protest.
The moment she dismounted Nyx, she ran a loving hand along her shadow wyvern’s scaled neck. Her boots sank into the wet black sand as a cold breeze tugged at her hair. She helped her mother down, her chest tightening at the realisation that such assistance had once been unnecessary. Her mother had never needed help with things so small.
Mal caught Ash watching her from beside Daku. There was something unreadable in his golden eyes, something that unsettled her, something she was no longer certain she trusted.
Aware of the direction of her thoughts, she turned away and looked up at the cliffs. Nestled within the rock was a small castle. A modest keep, clearly intended as a retreat for the royal family during visits to the coast. Mal had never seen it before. Nor did she recognise the wyverian man now standing at the base of the cliffs, where a narrow path wound upwards to the keep. He stood slightly hunched, as though the weight of the world pressed heavily upon him. He wore traditional wyverian garb, a black sheepskin coat draped over his shoulders. His dark hair fell unkempt to his jaw, a week’s worth of stubble shadowed his face, and his black eyes were sunken, eyes that spoke of sleepless nights.
‘Morthos?’ Mal breathed, wondering if this man truly was her uncle. She had never met him. He had been banished when she was little more than an infant, and her father had never once spoken of his younger brother.
The man squinted at her, then his eyes widened in recognition. He released a weary sigh before motioning for them to follow.
Mal hurried to her mother’s side, slipping an arm through hers to help her across the black sands towards the narrow path leading up the cliffs. Ash walked on ahead in silence. Mal’s gaze lingered on his back. She spared her wyverns one last look before signalling for them to seek nesting grounds. They answered with a single piercing screech before leaping skyward and vanishing into the clouds.
They climbed the winding, narrow stone steps until they reached a small path leading to the entrance. The keep itself was built from dark stone, tall and narrow, leaning precariously, asthough it might at any moment tumble down onto the beach below.
The instant they stepped inside, Mal’s eyes sharpened. The interior was cloaked in shadow and neglect. It was a place long abandoned by both care and affection. The images within their frames had nearly faded to nothing, lamps lay thick with dust, and no flame had warmed them in a very long time.
‘It’s only me here,’ Morthos said with a shrug.
‘My mother needs to rest,’ Mal replied, keeping the queen close at her side.
Morthos nodded. ‘Upstairs. Take whichever room you like.’ He looked away from the queen, pointedly avoiding her eyes.
Mal shot Ash a warning look before guiding her mother up the narrow stone staircase. The upper floor offered little improvement over the hall below. The corridor was marginally wider, but the rooms bore the same neglect—beds untouched for years, blanketed in thick layers of dust.
Mal chose a chamber that overlooked the beach. A black wooden rocking chair sat by the window, and she helped her mother into it. ‘I’ll try to clean the bedding a little,’ Mal said softly, crouching before her.
‘Where is Kai?’ the queen asked, her black eyes fixed upon the distant sea. ‘Where is my Kage?’
Mal’s heart clenched painfully.
‘I don’t know where Kai is…’ She bit down on her lip, fighting the sting of tears. ‘And Kage is away for now, walking his own path.’
