Voice of Darkness - Book One of The Cursed Archer

0 : At the dawn of war

Elkantar Abbylan placed his black dragon on the great terrace of dark flagstones. Staring at the Citadel of Thorns, the prince dismounted from his winged mount, which emitted a low growl. He retrieved his sword and walked confidently towards the stone viaduct that overlooked a ravine several hundred meters. On the other side of the bridge, the gates of the imperial fortress carved into the rock of the mountain were guarded by ten soldiers. All bowed their heads as the prince passed, who haughtily ignored them. He paid only brief attention to the two obsidian statues on either side of the doors, which depicted the first kings: Elkantar I and his son, Ranaghar I.

The Dark Elf walked up a long, dark corridor. Rare torches lit up the place and spread reddish lights on the walls. They were not enough to allow visitors to orient themselves in the dark. But that didn't bother a Night Elf. Elkantar's eyes saw in the dark.

After a walk of a few minutes which plunged the prince into the heart of the mountain, he emerged into the immense throne room. Black marble columns supported the stone vault. Statues of dragons were carved into the rock, left and right. The throne itself was a single block of obsidian that depicted claws, fangs, and dragon wings. Abbylan banners adorned the wall behind the throne. The red two-headed dragon watched over those who were once blessed by the gods.

King Nhaundar IV stood in the middle of the room, alone, before a stone table covered with a shroud. The lifeless body of an Abbylan house elf lay on it.

— Night salutes you, Majesty, Elkantar said. I'm sorry for your son. The goddess Rilra will watch over his soul.

— I'm not sad, Elkantar. I'm worried. Worried and angry. Istovir was accompanied by his dragon. He didn't die naturally, I'm sure.

— Who would dare to venture beyond the Lands of Llhys, my king?

— We both know that, growled Nhaundar. Don't play innocent with me. I know that you are the first of us to travel far to the south, to do I don't know what in the lands of the Elves of Light and of Men. I find it hard to tolerate your escapades, so don't you dare violate our laws.

— War against the Light Elves would further weaken our people. I know you've dreamed of revenge since the Dark War, Majesty, but the days of the Dark Elves are a thing of the past. Our hours of glory are...

— I never thought a demigod could ever speak like a slave. Elkantar, you disappoint me. You are a prince of House Abbylan, you bear the name of our most powerful kings. Be worthy of your rank!

A roar echoed through the room and shook the walls. The king and the prince fell silent and raised their heads. Nhaundar smirked.

— Malaggar and his dragon have arrived. I sent him on a mission to the south of the Empire. I can't wait to hear his report.

Elkantar nodded. His half-brother was the king's favorite prince. However, he was not his legitimate heir. He rode one of the oldest dragons in the land and carried an ancestral sword of the Abbylan, proof that he deserved to reign after Nhaundar. But as long as he had no son, the king would not appoint him. Without a male heir, his lineage remained fragile.

A Dark Elf with long white hair, dressed in black steel armor accented with a purple cape, appeared at the end of the room. A severed head bobbed in his left hand, dropping drops of blood onto the ground. Elkantar squinted and saw that it was a Light Elf.

Prince Malaggar placed his trophy at the feet of his king.

— Majesty, elven warriors roam our lands, two days north of our southern border. Dark Light was happy to separate their heads from their bodies. And Imalor burned those who fled.

— Elvish warriors...in our lands, repeated the king. When my son passes from life to death...

— They are guilty of killing a holy being, growled Malaggar. They dared. They shed the noble Blood of the Dragon. The prince's death calls for revenge.

— If the Light Elves really killed my son... then they just declared war on us," King Nhaundar agreed.

— We are no longer strong enough to fight the elves, Sire! protested Elkantar. Our people are struggling to survive!

Malaggar chuckled.

— Are you afraid of war, my brother? The fury of the fights? The fire of the dra-gons? You are an Abbylan prince like me. War is your reason for living. You...

— Elkantar is right: there are not enough of us left to raise the Army of Darkness. But this crime will not go unpunished. We will react. The Light Elves provoked us. They will pay the price. Malaggar, I leave command of the Varothr to you. Let them sow terror and death on the Lands of Llhys. Such is my will.

The prince bowed to theking, a satisfied smile on his lips. In the throne room, the roar of his dragonechoed mournfully.