Seeds of Sorrow (Immortal Realms Book 1)

Draven had made the right decision. He fully believed that Andhera was currently too dangerous, too unsettled, for Eden to be safe in Aasha’s walls. He had only ended their time sooner than expected. Eventually, for her own good, she would have had to leave. But it had been three days of hell. The vitality Eden had brought to his halls had faded, leaving only the emptiness that had always resided there. Gone was her warmth, her willingness to draw him from his own personal darkness.

His entire castle seemed to be at odds with itself, and he was at the core of it. The were-wolves growled and grumbled their way through the day, Loriah consistently shot him looks of reproof, and the goblins had taken to screeching at him whenever he passed them in the hall; Draven found himself actually missing their high-pitched nonsensical chatter.

Perhaps it was a benefit to his own sanity to not have time to dwell on it, to find himself embroiled in the misfortune of the realms instead.

“Your Majesty, welcome,” one of the harpies stated as he drew Rayvnin up before the retinue standing guard over the gate into the Veil.

Draven nodded to the soldier. “Has there been much activity today?”

“A few manticore, Your Majesty. But nothing we haven’t been able to handle,” she assured him.

“Good,” was his simple response.

It had been centuries since there had been a need to have guards posted at the gate to the in-between. But his carefully constructed laws could no longer be trusted to hold his subjects in check.

Draven lashed Rayvnin’s reins and made his way through the gate and into the shadowed realm beyond.

After Zryan had returned to Lucem with Eden, he had made a point to contact both Draven and Travion to inform them of another matter. There was silence in the Veil.

Draven kept his eyes focused on the path before him as he drove through the Veil, but his ears remained open. Where desperate wails of misery would typically be, there was nothing but an eerie silence that truly bothered him more than the screams ever had.

As he approached the middle of the Veil, Draven could see Travion already there, waiting. Pulling up beside his brother, Draven climbed down out of his chariot.

“It’s odd,” Travion muttered by way of greeting. “But the silence is more chilling than the howls.”

Draven snorted, finding his own thoughts thrown back at him—a common occurrence after so much time spent in the dungeons together.

“I think there were souls lost in this space long before we began venturing into the Veil,” Draven responded.

Now firmly planted on his feet and not traveling, Draven turned so that he could cast his eyes out over the emptiness that was the Veil, watching the swirling tufts of fog as they drifted along the void.

“It is certainly not a good sign,” his brother replied.

Both turned to look to the right as the sound of an approaching horse sounded. Zryan appeared as if out of nowhere, seated atop a gray pegasus and looking for all the world as if he had just run a race. His hair was a wild tangle, cheeks dusted with red, and his clothing thoroughly rumpled. Draven couldn’t remember the last time he had seen his youngest brother looking so out of sorts.

Pulling to a halt, Zryan slid down off his stallion and moved toward them without his typical cheer.

“The clouds have only increased,” he stated roughly to Travion before his eyes moved to acknowledge Draven.

“Dammit,” Travion growled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“The clouds?” Draven asked, looking between his brothers.

“We haven’t seen the sun in two days. The clouds rolled into Lucem the day after I returned, and they’ve just continued to grow darker and stormier looking. I’ve never seen weather like it.”

“I even went to try and help,” Travion added. “But it doesn’t feel like any weather or storm I’ve ever felt before. It also doesn’t seem to want to respond to me at all. It’s as if someone has drawn it to Lucem rather than it having formed naturally.”

Draven’s face darkened, his brows knitting in a scowl. He had sent Eden to Lucem with Zryan to keep her away from the dangers overrunning Andhera, and now he was learning that something was amiss in the light realm as well.

“Could this have something to do with the book?” Draven asked.

“Damned if I know, but likely,” Travion grumbled.

They both turned their eyes on Zryan, who gave them a helpless look. “I’m looking for it!” he shot back, exasperated.

Draven simply shook his head. “Book aside . . . let’s get this over with.”

From his chariot, Draven produced a spool of rope. Keeping one end in his hand, he tossed the remainder of it into Tavion’s. Wrapping his loose end around his waist, he tied it off.

“Should you feel a tug on the rope, pull me in. No matter what I may be shouting to you out there.”

Travion nodded in understanding.

Beside him, Zryan crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you certain you don’t want one of us to go in instead?”

“Can you travel by shadow?” Draven asked dryly. He received only an eye roll from his youngest brother.

Without another word, Draven called the nearest shadow to him and stepped into it, leaving the path to move into the emptiness of the Veil.

As he expected, the void rose up to surround him, swallowing him into the vast nothingness around him. If it weren’t for the rope fastened around his waist, Draven would have quickly lost any sort of awareness of what direction his brothers lay in. Not allowing that to disconcert him, he continued to move from one dark shadow to another, keeping out of the brighter spots in the Veil. While he did not think it was sunshine, he could never be certain.

The further into the void he traveled, the more emptiness and silence Draven found. While he had only come into the emptiness of the Veil once before, he could tell this was entirely different.

The souls hadn’t been exactly tangible then, but he had sensed their presence all around him, even when their wails weren’t sounding loudly in his ears. But there were no souls wandering lost within the Veil this time. All that he found was more emptiness and more deafening silence.

Something had freed the ones that had been lost in the Veil. Freed them . . . or taken them.

When he had searched as far as his tether would allow, Draven grasped ahold of it and made his way back, following the taut line.

Travion and Zryan did not become visible to him until he had physically stepped back onto the pathway and found himself once more in the center of the Veil. Travion looked relieved to see him.

“Anything?” he asked Draven.

“Not a soul.”

Zryan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well . . . at least this place isn’t so bloody eerie any longer.” He offered his brothers a tentative look, only to find them both frowning.

“I want to check out the gates into both your realms,” Draven stated. “Perhaps there is some evidence of where the spirits have gone.”

The three kings moved to grab their mounts, pulling them along behind them as they walked the distance toward the first gate, which led into Midniva. With a quick examination, they could spot no outward difference in its appearance.

“Do you think we’ll actually find anything?” Zryan asked.

“I don’t know. But something has pulled the spirits from this space and is also drawing the creatures of Andhera to my gate.”

“What do you mean?” Zryan cast him a glance as they left Midniva’s gate and took the path toward Lucem’s.

“I’ve had to post guards at the gate leading into the Veil. Manticores, lamia, chimera, trolls  . . . even some of the were-creatures have attacked the gate, looking to cross through into the Veil. Something is driving the inhabitants of Andhera mad with hunger. And whatever it is, it’s pulling them in this direction.”

Draven’s words left both Zryan and Travion frowning deeply. Together, the three of them had taken down their tyrannical father, ending his reign of terror over the three realms and bringing a sort of order and peace between them. Their own reign over the realms had gone mostly uncontested for more centuries than any of them could remember. What was happening now perplexed all of them, and it wasn’t a good sign.

As they approached the gate leading into Lucem, it didn’t take long for them to spot the black coils of shadow wrapping around the giant pillars like tentacles. The shadows wound the entire way up the carved stone structure and seemed to disappear through the barrier into the light realm.

On the other side of Travion, Zryan cursed loudly. “What in the name of the sun does this mean?”

Draven didn’t know. It was not something he had ever seen before, but it could mean nothing good.

Had he sent Eden away from the dangerous land he ruled in order to protect her only to land her in a realm becoming equally as dangerous, and which he was physically unable to enter?

“Zryan,” Draven found himself growling. “You must promise me you will retrieve Eden and keep her under your protection.” The barrier between Lucem and the Veil was too solid for their blood connection to tell him anything of her current state.

“What—”

“Swear it,” he demanded. Dread crept through him at the thought of his own helplessness in ensuring Eden’s safety. If he couldn’t be there to keep her safe, then his brother and his family would have to see to it for him.

“Draven, I don’t think that is nec—”

Draven turned his head to capture his brother’s eyes in a fierce stare. “I said, swear it.” His voice was low, threatening, leaving no room for refusal.

Zryan finally nodded. “I swear it, brother.”