Chapter One

Serafina

The leather strap of my satchel left grooves in my palm as I clutched it close with clammy hands. This was it. The final straw.

Sandstone floor scuffed against my toes. My breath became heavy as I hastened towards the gallery of the castle. Moonlight cast shadows through tall windows, leaving room to hide if need be.

My own family had shattered my trust. All the promises made were broken. All the dreams that could have been were gone. There were no choices given and no negotiations would be heard on my part. If my father was determined to legitimize me, his lowly, bastard daughter, then I was out.

Bile rose to my throat as the warning replayed in flashes. Bloodstained hands came first. Then the metallic bitterness lingered on my tongue. The excruciating pain was still so fresh. It was only a dream, a fragmented dream, but the warning was there. I placed a reassuring forearm below my ribs. Expecting to find the wet stickiness of life draining out, but there was only the clean fabric of my pale blue night dress.

Clank, clank, clank.

Chain-mail and the scraping steel boots came from ahead. Throwing myself into the shadows of a nook in the wall, I stood quietly waiting to see if I was going to be free to continue or if I would be dragged back to my rooms.

At least it was only chain mail. If it had been the swaying of a heavy frock I would be forced to jump out one of the large glass windows.

My father’s guards kept their biases of my lowly, bastard status to themselves. They wouldn’t risk their lives to harm me. I was never frightened of them. Oh no. It was the female guards who belonged to my stepmother, the queen, that sent chills down my spine. Most wouldn’t call for others to drag me to my bed. Rather, they would take the opportunity to strike me down, especially after the announcement of my father adding me to the line of succession.

The clanking drew closer. Holding in a breath, I pressed further into the nook.

Please don’t look this way. Please, please, don’t look this way.

Relief came as the clanking faded away in the opposite direction. I loosened my breath, thanking Cato for my luck and went on my way.

The gallery was long and glorious. Ceiling high windows on the sea-facing side casted in moonbeams to illuminate the paintings and busts. Even as the oil sconces sat cold, with not even an ember flickering, on the pillars, the room’s layout was easily seen. The polished wooden planks were smooth under my feet, unlike the sandstone throughout most of the castle. It was how I imagined a cabin in the woods would feel. Cozy and warm with the scent of cedar surrounding me.

As I tiptoed to the opposite wall, mindful of any traitorous floorboards that might give me away, I began to count out the paintings on the wall. They were of various shapes and sizes, depicting my paternal ancestors and historic events of our nation.

One, two, three…

I kept count, brushing my long pale fingers against the frames and the gaps of the wall in between. My long raven tresses tickled my forearm as I tilted my head searching for the correct painting.

Seven.

It was the largest painting in the gallery, filling up a ten by ten space, and was quite possibly the oldest. Its golden wood frame was worn with fissures and much of the gold had flecked off, laying in small clumps on the floor.

The depiction was the first recorded history of Regnum. On a tall cliff stood my ancestor, King Milo, with our capital city of Nautica being built behind him with the castle overlooking the city on a neighboring hill. Before the king rose the god of our seas and of the humans, Cato. Half of his mountainous serpent-like body remained submerged in the crushing waves below. His emerald green scales shimmered, even through the paint. His horse shaped head held illuminating yellow eyes and yet near human green irises. The seaweed green mane flowed horrendously, as if a storm were about to hit the infant nation and the sea dragon was its only barrier. Breathtaking was the only word to describe it.

I slid my fingers in between the wall and the painting, searching for the thin metal latch.

Click.

Lifting the latch, I pulled away the painting, revealing a tunnel behind it. Darkness swallowed me whole as the frame closed behind me.

Familiar sharp stones and jagged rocks acted as my way-finders through the winding passage. I had enough scars and past bruises to know the entire layout by heart. As a child I used to imagine that a runaway princess used the tunnel to escape from their life of duty. How ironic that I was using it for that very purpose.

Being born to a mistress, no matter how pure some made her out to be, came with a stigma that many could never overlook. The daughter of a whore had been my only identity for most.

Despite public opinion of me, my father enacted the Heir and Spare law the moment my stepmother no longer bled. I was now right behind my older brother, Zander.

My kind and wonderful older brother, I thought. Even he agreed to allow our father to put that target on my back. For my own security. I couldn’t fight gawking at the two of them that morning at breakfast when they informed me that the news was to go out the following day. On my twentieth birthday.

I would have left it alone. I would have accepted whatever my father wanted to do with me, until the dream only hours before my escape. A sharp jolt ran through my gut, causing my hand to fly to the invisible wound.

Salty air flooded my senses as moonbeams illuminated the mouth of the narrow cave. A breath of relief escaped my lips as I lowered my satchel onto the soft grass of the meadow outside.

The zephyr coming off the sea from the harbor past the city fluttered around my body. It felt as though I could unfurl wings and ride that wind wherever it wanted to take me.

I moved to sit on my boulder that overlooked Nautica, taking in the view.

Street lamps lay burnt out as the houses remained asleep. Merchant’s stalls sat barren, awaiting their clerks to fill them with goods. Creaking wooden ships swayed in the harbor. Such a lovely place and I did enjoy seeing it, even if I had never set foot down there. For my safety was always the excuse.

Scoffing at the thought, I began counting on my fingers. Birth, five, seven, ten, twelve, fifteen, and eighteen. For each number I put a finger up. Seven attempts had been made on my life.

I touched the pummel of my dagger strapped to my thigh. After ten I was no longer a defenseless fawn.

The wind picked up around me, playfully blowing my hair about as a whistling sound rose up from the sea.

Pretty, I thought. The melody could have been that of the merfolk or sirens. It was soulful and echoed across the hill.

Clouds floated past, allowing moonlit glimpses of the road leading up to the castle. Fifteen years prior the road had brought me to Nautica after five years of only living with my father, aunt, and brother. Blossomed pink canopies loomed over the cobblestone path, petals rising with the breeze. So long ago I was promised a happy life with a mother.

No, stepmother, I corrected myself with a frown. The memory played in my mind as if it were still fresh.

Return home or face a civil uprising. Return to the queen or face the wrath of her nation. So we did, and we had a grand ball to celebrate Regnum’s new royal family.

It started as such a lovely night. My father held me proudly in his arms, displaying me to all in attendance. My brother dragged me to any and all children our age in hopes that I would make a friend.

A sigh escaped me as the memory played out. One boy took it upon himself to monopolize as many dances as he could. I could never remember his name but the sensations from that night had never faded. His violet eyes had luminous gold crowns around his pupils and every time he peered into my own a tug rattled in my chest.

It was as if a chain were tethering me to the very thought of him. Even as I sat on the boulder there was a clanging as I envisioned his eyes. But I squashed those irises right out of my mind, noticing that the whistling around me had turned ominous and the thoughts were replaced by the steel eyes of Regina De Durant, my father’s wife.

Zander had been so thrilled to introduce me to his mother. At ten years old, I couldn’t fault him for his excitement and naivety. But as soon as those steel eyes peered down at me…

I shuddered, raising chilled fingers to my cheek expecting the heat from that slap to meet my skin. My hand traveled up to the back of my head, expecting the wetness that occurred when it cracked against the marble ballroom floor. But it was just a clean scalp that met my fingers.

The wind continued to rise and the melody turned into a howl. I should go.

I turned to where my satchel was, preparing to lift it, but froze as the wind ceased and the hill became silent.

“Lovely night.” A rough and gristled voice spoke from behind me.

Leaping from the boulder I pulled my dagger from its holster and spun on my heel to face the voice. Before me stood a hunched over elderly man. His long gray hair and beard took the shape of seaweed as they trailed down his back and front. A green fisherman’s hat matching his tattered green robes.

He lifted both hands up to show he was harmless. Though, I was convinced that there was more to him than what I could see. His eyes twinkled as he smiled under his whiskers. Sea green eyes with golden flecks. It was difficult to not see my own eyes in them. They matched almost perfectly.

“I’m sorry if I startled you, my dear. I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you. I thought I made enough noise coming up here.” He chuckled again and took a seat on my boulder.

I held my stance.

He patted an open spot on the boulder beside him, beckoning me to join him. I shook my head, keeping my posture straight and the dagger before me to act as a barrier.

“Who are you?”

The twinkle in his eyes remained bright.

“Many call me different things I suppose. Crackpot. Old man. Fool. But if you would feel better with a name, you may call me Cato.” His voice sounded as if he smoked for decades on a pipe.

He had to be pulling my leg. Who would name their son after a god? Someone as great as the Sea Guardian may take it as an insult and curse a family for such insolence. Or, perhaps he thought I was ignorant and it wasn’t his true name. I decided to let the name slide. He could just have been senile.

I kept silent, observing him. He had to be at least seventy but there was a chance it was a guise. My father had told me of sorcerers who could change their appearance. It was a reason we didn’t have any in Regnum’s court. They were untrustworthy.

The man lowered his hand to lean on it, his face inching closer to mine, as if ready to reveal a secret.

“And you are Serafina.” His tone was decisive, though the twinkle remained.

Heat rose from my neck as the muscles at the base of my skull constricted.

“How do you know me?” I asked, raising the dagger so that the tip was eye level to him.

He gave a knowing exhale but didn’t respond. I repeated the question, wishing I was taller to perhaps intimidate him. It was possible he stalked the castle and was waiting for a moment such as this to do me in. There were enough fanatics around who would do such a thing to protect Zander’s right to the throne. Cato leaned back and crossed his arms before him.

“You look so much like the prince and king.” He said.

That answer didn’t sit well with me. Most, to my knowledge, were never told my name. My name had been a taboo topic for many citizens - at least until the morning announcement went out.

“That doesn’t explain how you know my name.” I said through gritted teeth.

The field was completely clear. If I had to, running towards the road or the front door of the castle was an option. Sure there would be hell to pay, showing up on my own doorstep and abandoning my plans, but it was an option. I caught him glancing at my satchel.

“I would advise against it.” He said, pulling a pipe from within his robes.

“Against what?”

“Leaving. It’s too soon.” He struck a match against the boulder and lit the pipe before continuing.

“Your fate is to stay here, at least until the black dragon comes.”

I never liked riddles. Every time my aunt, Leena, wanted to speak in code to my father she would use riddles so that they would go right over my head.

“I don’t know what any of that means.” I scowled at him, keeping my arm straight.

He seemed aware that I was annoyed, but his eyes still twinkled as he patted the spot beside him again. Once again, I shook my head.

“What was it that made you believe that being out here, away from the protection of your walls, would be the right choice to make? Was it the nightmares?” He inhaled on his pipe, the scent of dried tobacco wafting through and mixing with the sea breeze.

Tension traveled up my shoulders. I told no one of my dreams, the fragments that plagued me nightly for the last year. This night’s dream was one of the worst. With my free hand I clutched my side, but there still was no blood.

“What do you know about your family, Serafina?” Cato asked, making my head spin with his constant switching of the conversation.

I owed this man nothing. And yet… perhaps he could be of some use to me. He was clearly more knowledgeable about me than most. I lowered my weapon to my side.

“You already said that I look like my father and brother so you know they are King Jovan Gavriil and Crown Prince Zander Gavriil. And as most know, I’m the daughter of a mistress.” I explained.

My father’s line was well enough known. It was the only human royal line in Belinha. The other nations were ruled by the fae and descendants of merfolk, dragons, and naga. In those nations humans held the recessive gene. Most of the children born to one human and one creature parent would inherit the abilities of the creature. But that wasn’t the case for Regnum. Any creature married into a human’s family in Regnum were more likely to have human offspring - as was the case with my brother.

Cato’s eyes appeared to soften.

“Tell me about your mother.” More of a request than a question.

What did I know of her? I thought back to all I had ever been told by my father and aunt.

“Her name was Diana Beckett. She fell while pregnant with me and died going into early labor. My aunt, her twin, raised me.” There wasn’t much more than that. Not that I was ever comfortable asking for more.

His pipe clicked against his teeth as he turned his gaze towards the sky. I followed it and couldn’t help but admire the cosmos up there. Billions of spheres twinkled while others swirled and shot through the sky. Smoke rose up from the pipe, obscuring some of the balls of light.

“Such a beautiful child she was. So pure and kind.” Such sadness in his voice.

“How did you know her?” I didn’t look away from the stars, not knowing if it was because I was anxious about knowing his truth.

The smoke from the pipe began to shift through the breeze, creating images of a young woman before a young man.

“I’m not sure if you would believe me if I told you. Perhaps I will leave you with some truth, some advice, and a riddle to work out?”

“Will you tell me after the riddle?” My heart rang in my ears. All of the vague answers made me nauseous.

“Perhaps a second riddle as well then.” He looked back down at me and I met his mirroring gaze.

“First some truth. Soon, you will experience rapid changes. Not just with the announcements for tomorrow, but within your own body and soul. You are awakening what was once dormant for nearly five thousand years. Your ability for Sight will only grow stronger and soon you will unlock other abilities, like healing. But it’s not just any healing. It is healing that will bring balance back to our land.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“I’m just a human. I don’t have any abilities.”

Cato shook his head in disagreement.

“You’re the daughter of Belinha, the goddess who named this land, and you’re the daughter of the sea.”

It was my turn to shake my head.

“I already told you who my parents are.”

He stroked his beard and exhaled, the pipe still resting on his lips. The image of the young woman before the young man appeared again.

“There is only a trunk with dead branches. A daughter of Belinha blessed by the sea and given two miracles. One miracle will only exist to assist a new miracle after the other extinguishes. The new miracle is the hope of this land and restores the balance.”

“Was that the first riddle?” I inquired.

Cato nodded, inhaling on his pipe.

“And now for some advice.” he said, pointing towards the smoke cloud. It swirled and swished until the form of a dragon formed.

“Stay in Nautica and wait for the black dragon. That chain that is tugging at your chest when he enters your thoughts, it’s called a Binding Chain. It will lead you to him regardless of where you are but it’ll be easier if you remain here. Harness your gifts and seek for knowledge. A journal of prophecies will soon be revealed.”

“That just sounds like another riddle.” I said, sheathing the dagger and crossing my arms across my chest.

He chuckled as he snuffed out the pipe with his thumb.

“I promise that it’s actually pretty straight forward advice once you really look into it.” He answered.

He reached into his robes and withdrew a closed fist.

“I want you to have something. A gift.”

He motioned for my hand. In my outstretched palm he dropped a thin silver band with a small round emerald embedded into the center. It was such a simple ring but as it lay in my palm a tingling warmth spread through my fingers and up my arm. I looked at him with questions.

“It’s a trinket that I think you will find useful. It can enhance and regulate a being’s natural abilities but it also has something that I added to it.”

“Just in case you want to sneak away again, it will allow you to change something as simple as your hair color to something more complex like having wings or gills. Although I must warn against using it too often, until you have learned to hone your energy. It likes to siphon that energy and store it.”

I turned the ring thrice in my hand. This wasn’t a gift, it was a treasure, something that only powerful sorcerers would own.

“Why would you give this to me?” I whispered, as if speaking any louder it would lure some unwanted creatures who would come and steal it.

“Because it’s your birthday.” He said, smiling.

Before I could show any gratitude or hand it back, he cut me off.

“I need to go back. I can’t stay on land for long. But I want to leave you with that last riddle, if you still want it.”

Perhaps he was a sailor, I thought as the sun’s rays began to creep over the horizon. I nodded for him to continue.

“A woman married to an impotent man. A prayer answered through deception and need, but not desire. Given two blessings, only to lose one and then gain another. Grief will turn into hope and the blessing gained will be the bearer of that hope.” He finished.

I furrowed my brow.

“It’s not much different than the first.” I said.

He chuckled again.

“Only because of how intertwined the destinies that we share are.”

He rose to his feet, dusting himself off and turned toward me one last time.

“Return to your bed my blessed child. I am sure we will cross paths again.”

Sighing, I loosened my arms and peered at the narrow passageway. I had made up my mind only hours before and now… now I think I’m convinced to go back. Go back to the new life that seemed to be waiting for me - a life I never wanted. I turned to say goodbye to the old man, only to find the space empty. The wind began to pick up once more, rolling towards the harbor. In the distance of the shimmering water were long triangular ripples moving towards the horizon. Nothing felt like a coincidence at that moment.