Chapter One
The onyx streets of Kralis were rife with activity. It was the busiest I’d ever seen the planet. Kralis was one of my favourite planets in the Throvani Ethrionth Star System and I’d visited here many times, but I’d never seen it this bustling.
Something interesting must be happening.
I weaved my way through throngs of people -- not just Kralians, but all races: witches from the neighbouring Valeth, humans from Earth. Even a few others I instinctively knew to be from Naltariana; the only home I’d ever known.
Everyone here was beautiful, but the native Kralians were especially striking. Most of them, regardless of gender, towered over me, standing at about seven feet. They were all built like the Gods of old, with rippling muscles. I supposed that was to help with their shape-shifting, as Kralians could transform into magnificent, feathered wyvern-like beasts.
I watched in awe as a group of Kralians flew overhead, cawing at each other in a way that reminded me of the crows I’d once seen on Earth.
I tore my gaze away from the flying Kralians and focused on a white-haired street vendor. While on Earth, white hair might have been a sign of advanced age, on Kralis, the colour was common, second only to the lustrous black-shifting-to-purple-and-turquoise that seemed the most frequent.
“What’s going on? Why is everywhere so busy?”
The female Kralian smiled at me, her purple eyes sparkling. “Today the crown prince, Kalas, comes of age. Korvarith Thalun will reveal the prince’s fated mate in an aeons-old ritual held at the Obsidian Palace.”
Korvarith Thalun was the Kralian deity, and apparently, They chose who the prince would wed.
“That’s something I’d love to see,” I said, turning away from the stall and studying the horizon, where the Obsidian Palace stood. Its many towers pierced the sky, and more transformed Kralians whirled around the castle.
I idly wondered if one of them was the crown prince, enjoying his last few moments of freedom before his fated mate was revealed to him.
“You’ll be lucky if they let you in. The palace is only open to nobility for the ritual.”
“Figures,” I said, walking away from the street vendor, and following the flock of people making their way to the palace.
I’d infiltrated more secure locations in the past, including escaping from the military barracks on Auroriath. Something I never planned on repeating. Compared to that, the royal palace of Kralis would be child’s play for someone like me.
The onyx streets were mystical and alluring. When the light reflected off the tall, obsidian towers, the buildings shimmered with iridescence, displaying hues of purple and turquoise.
It was one of the most beautiful sights in the galaxy, eclipsed only by the crystalline palace of the Witch Queen on Valeth.
“Out of the way, Ethvorel,” someone said, almost knocking me off my feet. Even though I’ve studied the Kralian language, I didn’t recognise the word, but the meaning was clear. It was an insult.
I gazed up into the hard, almost-black eyes of a male Kralian. He too had white hair, though, contrary to how many Kralians wore their hair, his was clipped short and brushed back off his face. He had none of the friendliness of the market vendor.
It was easy to guess from the male Kralian’s fine, feathered regalia that he was one of the nobility. When he strode into the Obsidian Palace with no resistance from the guards, my suspicions were proven true.
I mingled around near the entrance, where both Kralians and those of other species try to gain entrance. Some had beautifully written invitations that the guards glanced at. Many of them were dressed in the same fathered regalia as the rude male from moments ago. The others, who weren’t as finely dressed, begged and pleaded with the guard to be let in. Some offered bribes. Others claimed they were kin of ‘so-and-so,’ who I could only assume were Kralian nobility.
I knew all their efforts would be fruitless.
If I wanted to enter the Obsidian Palace, I was going to have to be much craftier.
First things first, I needed to blend in a little better. While many species were common on Kralis, I still stood out like a sore thumb due to my distinctive skin and hair. A mark of the people from the once prosperous planet of Sylvethia. I’d never been there myself, I grew up in an orphanage on Naltariana. But I’d seen pictures in books. It was a beautiful paradise before the Auroriathans attacked.
I made my way around to the back of the Obsidian Palace, where various members of the lower classes were coming and going, as they supplied a service to the royal family. There were musicians, waiters, cooks and a whole host of others that were easy to blend in with.
Acting as though I belonged there, I picked up a tray of delicious-looking treats. While the Kralians hunt for their meals, they still knew how to throw a feast. No expense had been spared for the crown prince, and there was more than enough food here to feed the people of Kralis twice over. I idly wondered if anyone not of the nobility would see even a slice of bread. If I got the chance, I planned on stealing some food later and donating it to a local orphanage or refugee house.
Once I gained entrance to the Obsidian Palace, it wasn’t hard to slip away from the kitchen and then keep to the dark corners and back passageways. I weaved through the castle, silent as a shadow, searching for the place where the ritual would be performed.
I’d always been curious, ever since I was a child. The moment I learned to read, I had my head buried in a book, reading about all the different planets and cultures that exist. My dream was to see everything.
I was only in my early twenties, according to the time measurement standards I’d learned on Earth, but I’d already visited five planets that weren’t Naltariana, including Auroriath, where I’d barely escaped with my life. How its neighbours, Kralis and Valeth had avoided war had always baffled me.
I wandered the shimmering black hallways of the palace and came across a vast ballroom that was being prepared for a feast, with rows and rows of tables laid out. On a dais, in place of authority, was the royal table with throne-like seats for the king and queen, as well as their son.
I’d only ever seen the royal family of Kralis in pictures, and I was intrigued to see if they were as beautiful in person as their portraits made out.
At that moment, only servants occupied the ballroom, and so I continued on, searching for something more interesting.
I saw a corridor that was partitioned off from the rest of the palace, and judging by how the decor had become even more magnificent in that area I assumed that was where the royal quarters were. Maybe I could pretend to be a handmaiden or something, and catch a glimpse of the royal family.
I headed over to the royal quarters when someone bumped into me. Another Kralian. This one had dark hair and a much friendlier demeanour than the male who insulted me earlier. He was wearing what appeared to be regalia too, with a feathered cape, though his outfit looked much simpler and subdued than that of the rude male. It was clear by his harried expression that he was stressed about something. In his eagerness to see to his duties I hoped he simply ignored me.
I was disappointed when he asked “Can I help you ma’am?” with an exasperated sigh.
I bit my bottom lip, feeling guilty for even bothering this man when he was clearly meant to be somewhere else, but I needed directions.
“I was looking for the ritual chamber, please?”
The dark-haired Kralian rolled his eyes. “I don’t have time for this, I need to ensure the crown prince is ready. The chamber is that way.” He jerked a thumb in the direction he just came from and then hurried off again.
He entered an ornate door I assumed led to the royal quarters, and then was gone from view. I was half tempted to follow him, but figured that might draw suspicion. What I came here to see was the ritual, and so, I made my way in the direction he indicated.
As I walked along the corridor, voices grew louder, and it was clear I had come to the right place.
The corridor ended with a massive stone archway that was covered with a shimmering, feather-covered curtain. The curtain was being held aside by a female Kralian who could have been the twin of the one who was in a rush to get to the crown prince.
She smiled politely and bowed as she admitted person after person into the ritual chamber. There are no checks for invitations or declarations of status. It was assumed if you’ve gotten this far, you were meant to be here.
A few paces ahead of me in the queue was the rude male I’d encountered earlier, and I stepped back to avoid him noticing me.
“My warmest greetings, Lord Darakon,” the female door attendant greeted the white-haired Kralian. “Aveth Korvarith Thalun na elvithor.”
The white-haired male didn’t return the greeting and simply sneered as he sauntered past her.
Asshole.
Finally, I reached the archway, and the door attendant smiled politely. “A visitor from Sylvethia. You are most welcome here, friend. Aveth Korvarith Thalun na elvithor.”
This wasn’t my first time on the planet, and before I even visited I did my research, so I had no trouble understanding the greeting. It meant ‘May Korvarith Thalun bless you’.
“Thank you,” I replied, and then even though I didn’t believe in the Kralian deity, out of politeness I added, “Aveth Korvarith Thalun na elvithor.”
The door attendant smiled and bobbed her head to me, then pulled back the curtain so that I could enter.
