After an excruciatingly painful experience, Mageia finds out she is not just the thief with purple eyes, but she is the Fairest of Valeera. A demi-god position that sets her above every royal and the gods. But she's not ready to accept it. The only...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
She looked beautiful sound asleep heating up his insides until her sudden discomfort saved him from the inevitable need to run to the washroom. Then her smile, which seemed rare vanished from her face when he mentioned his Komali bloodline.
Something was wrong.
As he washed up with cool water and lavender soap, he examined himself in the mirror. Mira, one of the palace maids, had mentioned a few times how handsome he had grown. He wondered if Mageia thought the same. He shook his head.
Gaw. She probably thinks I'm weird.
A terrible memory popped into his head, yet again. Eron grabbing and kissing her. He clenched a hand and prayed for the chance to beat the crap out of him. He gave an irritated sigh, remembering how Mageia appeared to relax and submit to the kiss.
No. You're just being stupid, he told himself. Mageia hated Eron just as much as he did.
He rubbed his stiff aching chest not fully healed from his beating and placed the cool rag on his forehead, closed his eyes, and slowly exhaled. Thunder rolled in the distance.
Grisonce!
The voice shouted out of nowhere and echoed in his skull. He shuddered and backed away from the basin, almost taking a tumble into the tub.
Grisonce!
"Oh no," he said remembering this exact thing happening when he had his first vision.
Grisonce!
"What?" he shouted back.
His blood began to boil beneath his skin, a strange and uncomfortable feeling. He stumbled forward into the basin and was glad it was sealed to the table. He gritted his teeth as his head pounded in rhythm with the roaring in the sky. His eyes burned, so he opened them and gasped horrifically at himself in the mirror.
His eyes were gone, replaced by the shiny whites of his eyeballs. Some of the veins around his sockets began to turn white.
Grisonce! The voice snapped at him. Instantly, his eyes shot up to the ceiling. His vision blurred and transformed into the blinding white void of the Starliin. He strained for air until he couldn't any longer.
"Breathe Grisonce!" Tiivon Lariius shouted.
The former Fairest known as the Vanished King, grabbed him and spun him around. Gris clung onto the old man and gulped in a lungful of the thick air.
"Take deep breathes, young man," Tiivon instructed.
Gris noticed he was still wearing his white tunic. His silver and purple cane with the crystal ball on top sat erected on its own. Purple magic – like Mageia's – surrounded them causing his purple hair to appear disheveled. When he released Gris, it opened his ears to extreme pounding above his head. He cringed, anticipating the ceiling to crash upon him, but when it didn't, screeching followed.
