Prologue - FREE
27 years ago…
The rain poured relentlessly, spattering on the rooftops and running down the streets like silver rivers. Elfonze’s cloak clung to him, soaked and heavy. His boots splashed in puddles as he rushed through the winding alleys.
His breathing was ragged, each inhale stabbing his chest. He felt his sister’s life flicker and fade, but her newborn’s light still called to him. He had to reach the child before someone else did.
But when he reached the house at last, he was already too late. Someone was here. Someone powerful. Someone not human.
Dread twisted Elfonze’s stomach as he yanked the front door open and stumbled inside. His soaked boots slid across the floor, and he hit the ground hard. He pushed himself up, heart hammering.
The bedroom door was slightly ajar. Light spilled through the crack, and with it came the piercing cries of a baby—desperate, angry. Something about the sound made Elfonze’s skin crawl. He burst into the bedroom.
His sister lay on the floor with wide eyes, pale and broken, her belly torn open, blood pooling around her. She was gone. And so was her child.
His chest tightened at the sight, and the stench of blood choked him.
“No!” he gasped, falling to his knees. The room spun. The cries, the thunder, even the battering rain—all of it vanished. His own heartbeat drowned everything else out. Bile rose in his throat, and he retched and choked on his own vomit.
A low chuckle rumbled through the room. Elfonze’s eyes snapped up. A figure stood in the shadows, holding a small baby by the ankles. Dark hair, fists flailing, cries tearing from its throat—louder and angrier than the thunder outside.
“I’m afraid you’ve come too late, magician,” the man said, calm and composed.
“Y-you—you b-bastard—” Elfonze stuttered, his voice cracking at the sight of his sister’s child in the hands of her murderer.
The man’s dark green eyes held no trace of remorse. A smile spread across his handsome face, sharp teeth glinting like pearls. He was a strukulia. Judging by the sheen of his silk garments, he was a wealthy one, too. He was one of them. The very kind who had lured his sister into this cursed arrangement.
Elfonze balled his fists. “You will pay for this, monster,” he said, rising to his feet. He pointed his hands forward. “You! And your family!”
“And what will you do to me, poor magician?”
“I will take my revenge.”
The strukulia’s smile disappeared. “I will kill you and this baby before a spell can leave your mouth.”
Elfonze’s heart pounded, not just with fear, but also with rage. Mostly with rage.
His eyes went black, and he caught the shock on the strukulia’s face the moment he unleashed the forbidden magic he had claimed only days ago—merely as a precaution—and hoped he would never have to call upon it.
“Tempus omne desisto,” he commanded.
Time froze.
Outside, raindrops hung still in the air, and bolts of lightning were locked in the sky. The strukulia before him stood motionless, his hand hovering over the child, his wicked smile unwavering. Even the baby’s screams were swallowed by silence.
Elfonze stepped forward and yanked the infant from the monster’s grasp. A girl. He held her tight against his chest. No matter how much he longed for revenge, there was no time for that now. His spell would not hold for long, and her life outweighed his vengeance.
He fled, leaving his sister’s body behind. That pained him, but protecting his baby niece was all that mattered now. It was what his sister would have wanted.
“They will never get you,” he whispered.
It was a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep.
Tiny fingers clutched him with unexpected strength, scratching his skin.
He had to get her to Somalo first. His friend would know what to do, and he was the only person in the world Elfonze could trust.
Present time
Elfonze placed the newest bottle among the others.
Rows of glass lined his shelves, shining with power—blue, green, violet—each containing a fragment of the strugi souls he’d harvested during the new moon. They were the remnants of their monstrous forms, torn apart by his dark magic and now trapped in liquid. Potions ready for the day he’d gathered enough power to undo the curse he had once cast himself.
If only he knew how.
How to craft a spell capable of undoing his own.
Elfonze let out a sigh, closing his eyes. He had not only let his sister down, but also his friend. He had cursed Somalo, who had paid for it with his life. And after his death, the curse had struck the one Elfonze held dearest—the very person he had sacrificed himself to protect.
None of this should have happened. All he’d ever wanted was to protect them. But somehow, he’d done the complete opposite, and now everything was ruined.
The first blood had been shed. Tonight. By manipulation, by force. By his own rotting black magic.
He was glad to see Lirzea dead; the prince had deserved it, and Elfonze hoped his death was painful. But for her… for her, he felt nothing but pity. She was now tied to a fate far more terrible than even his own.
Once the first blood had been shed, the rest was inevitable. It had begun with Lirzea, but it would not end with him. It would not end until the very last drop of blood had been spilled…
This is the free version of my story. It follows the same title as the paid edition, which is currently a few months ahead in updates. New chapters will be posted here as they are released in the paid version. If you want to read ahead, you can find the full, up-to-date story in the paid edition.
Read about 4 months ahead here:
https://www.inkitt.com/stories/1554059
