Echoes of Enmity

View the full map at StefanieChu.com/Alliance

View the full map at StefanieChu.com/Alliance

PROLOGUE

Roselyn was shivering when she came to life. She heard her mother’s voice screaming for her to get out of bed. A chilly air brushed against her arms, and she wanted to stay curled up, comfortable in this warm, almost fetal position.

Something rough and thin brushed against the bridge of her nose. It had a refreshing smell, like the dancing waters of the fountain in her family’s courtyard, and a dash of the soggy dirt that would accumulate on her pastel-colored shoes.

Was she outside? Roselyn had to open her eyes now.

Nothing.

It was pitch black. She blinked a couple of times to make sure she had not gone blind. Blades of grass tickled her hands and legs, and she knew now where that sensation had come from. Drawn to a cricket’s lullaby, she focused on the sounds around her — the staccato of notes filled the still night.

Joachim? she called out, breathing heavily. Her voice rang through the darkness, returning to her in echoes of solitude. She wrapped her hands around herself, feeling small and lonely, like a canoe stranded in the Candela Sea.

The world around her began to take shape, and she breathed in relief. But that relief only lasted a moment. She was not in her room, her soft bed nowhere to be seen. Huge, monstrous forms danced in the shadows around her, slow and rocking, darting to the tune of the blowing breeze. They surrounded her, and she saw no end.

Roselyn wanted to cry, but Father said only weak people cry. That couldn’t be her. She was a perfect noble, a prodigy admired by every person across the alliance. Besides, she had the protection of the Gods; at least, that was what the heirloom around her neck was for. And her natural, lilac hair — though a much darker shade than her mother’s perfect pink — meant she was a favorite among the Gods. They wouldn’t let her down now.

Her moist eyes followed the only source of light. It was hovering in the west, meaning it was past midnight. She was thankful she had learned how to tell time by looking at the moon, but she still had no idea where she was.

What good was that information to her?

She sighed, clasping onto the sides of her lacy dress that had blanketed the forest floor. She searched for her pockets. Of course, there were none… but she felt something crunchy. Her eyes darted to the spot — dark and hard like mud had dried there. Only it wasn’t mud that ruined her dress; the patch had been burnt.

Even worse, she thought. Mother would be furious.

Then it occurred to her that this was the dress she had worn to her viola performance for the Region Leader in Soli… Was that yesterday? Or maybe the day before. How long had she been sleeping?

It all had to be a dream. Joachim had told her to never be afraid to dream, that dreams had the power to take her places. What he didn’t tell her, however, was that she might wind up alone, in the middle of nowhere.

Her body curled in on itself, and she lay still in the cold grass, waiting, hoping Joachim would come to find her soon.

She could feel her nose growing numb in the cold breeze with each passing minute. But the forest was calm; the night was still. Being outside didn’t feel like a prison, and the crickets weren’t scolding her.

Her mind was slipping into the velvety darkness, eyes closed as she was ferried away into the lands of wishes and imagination. When she woke up again, it’d all be over.

Except, it wasn’t.

Morning birds were chirping noisily in the trees. Their yellow and blue plumages fluttered from branches to nests. The sun was glazing over the horizon; its bright yellow rays pierced the trees and lit up the world.

Roselyn looked around again. She was sitting in the middle of a grass field, surrounded by an endless stretch of oak trees. Her brows furrowed when she realized there was no house in sight, nothing familiar in view. And she still had no idea which direction she came from.

But she had to get home, even if the voice in her told her nothing good awaited her. She picked a direction – out of instinct – and started walking, trudging through the strange land.

Minutes could’ve passed. Hours? She had no sense of time. Her dry mouth begged like a stray dog, desperate for food, as needles stung her stomach.

The sun was ahead of her when she reached a cluster of berries. They were purple, bright, and looked like the best remedy for her aching stomach. But she recalled the time Joachim warned her that Taurin, the God of Land, sowed fake fruits to tempt and punish misbehaving children. She’d heard stories of wanderers being poisoned by wild berries all the time, so she knew it was true.

She sighed at the cluster of beautiful poison and continued her journey to anywhere.

Her legs felt like logs of wood as she dragged them through the forest one tired step at a time. Branches cracked and splintered, and leaves crushed under her feet. When the sky broke into a burst of golden orange, she realized she hadn’t accomplished anything.

Her mind wandered between possible realities. Did walking in an unknown direction make her rescue less probable? What if she never found a way out of here? And most importantly, did she want to be rescued?

The last time she saw her parents, they had been shredding her to pieces with their words. She could still hear their voices stabbing her eardrums; their words would sizzle her like a hot knife on flesh.

Perhaps remaining lost was preferable to the fate that awaited her in the arms of her own parents.

Part of her was relieved. At least she was finally free from her duties and her parents’ impossible expectations.

The other part of her wondered if this could really be her destiny – stranded forever in a forest, having accomplished nothing, never to be remembered as anything but a disappointment.

The golden sky made way for the blue of late evening. Cold crept into the forest, and the shadow monsters began gathering in the trees in ambush.

Joachim… she whispered, trudging through the nameless forest. Tears blurred her vision. She wiped them with her muddied hands and buried her face in her arms. She didn’t want the orange glow of the sun to disappear, but it was fleeing beyond the mountains, her wishes unheard.

Joachim! She yelled into the falling night. And like every other time when she called his name, echoes of her voice returned to her, reminding her she was alone in a big, empty world.

She closed her eyes and, with trembling lips, begged to be found.

CHAPTER ONE

I’m back, Mirari said, stepping into the kitchen. Salathiel had just put out the fire and divided their supper into two plates. She joined her brother at the table, but before she could take a seat, she noticed something was off.

Without looking at her, he let out a big sigh and picked up the fork.

She knew what he was about to say. The sun was gone, and…

You’re late again, Salathiel said.

Well, today some bum was harassing Miss Raina and⁠—

When I ask you to be back by six, I mean it, he said with grave intensity.

Mirari stopped playing around. She sealed her lips shut, letting her gaze drift to the floor. The aroma of rosemary over crispy chicken thighs smelled wonderful, but she didn’t feel the least bit hungry anymore.

Mirari tried to defend herself. Take it easy. Shit happens, alright?

Salathiel sighed. A familiar look of disappointment washed over his features. I can’t help it. You’re always stirring up trouble.

The trouble is already there. I just put a stop to it when I can.

And when you’re late, how do I know you weren’t knifed in some alley?

Mirari kept her gaze on the floor. She didn’t want to have to justify herself. I can handle⁠—

His fist slammed the table. How many times do I have to tell you to stop getting into brawls?

She mumbled, Sorry.

It wasn’t the first time they’d got into a quarrel over this, and she knew there was nothing she could say to ease the tension. She kept quiet, letting the tick of the clock and the grinding of his fork against the plate fill the cottage. Her eyes drifted back to Salathiel. His anger was palpable.

He had been like this ever since their home invasion three years ago. Mirari fractured three ribs and was bedridden for two weeks. It would’ve taken longer had it not been for their talented town healer – gifted with the elemental forces in kore. Salathiel took that incident as a reason to make sure Mirari came home on time, stayed out of trouble, and never got into fights. Yes, Mirari got hurt, but a few broken bones weren’t going to stop her from pursuing justice.

While everyone was born with some sort of ability — most being elemental — the power of one’s kore was often limited by genetics. Mirari’s ancestors were inventors, not fighters, and the art of kore in her bloodline was lost over time. She knew how to play a few tricks with the wind, but that was all. Still, she knew the basics of physical combat as well as Salathiel.

Sal, you shouldn’t worry about me, Mirari said. You know I can handle them… Besides, it’s good sparring practice.

He took a bite and lowered his fork. "If you go looking for trouble, I can guarantee one thing. You’ll find it. The less attention you draw, the better. Whatever happened to laying low… Roselyn?"

She jerked her head up. He was right. Though they lived in a small trading town in the countryside of Minetta, and she was very comfortable around the people of Solarin, she didn’t want rumors to start about a lady merchant who could beat up any drunken bastard.

Still, she persisted. Someone has to look out for those people.

But it doesn’t have to be you. Sis, I know these street uglies are no match for you, but one bad encounter is all it takes to change the stakes. Besides, how do you think they feel knowing a little girl beat them up? He picked up her fork, stabbed at a few chunks of carrots, and held the fork in front of her mouth.

I’m almost nineteen, Sal.

You’re a baby. Eat.

Mirari pouted but accepted the carrots. He let go of the fork while it still dangled in her mouth.

Be a little selfish for once, he advised. Salathiel’s anger had evaporated as soon as the fire was put out. He never stayed mad for long, and Mirari knew he just wanted to be the best brother he could be. Sticking your nose in other people’s business is never a good thing. Trust me, I stopped doing that once I got to know my clients.

Yeah? Mirari probed. And how do you think I feel about your job? You’re not the only one who worries.

Salathiel’s job was riskier than hers – that he couldn’t argue. All she had to do was carry supplies across town. Salathiel had to escort all kinds of shady people around. He was a scrawny young man who looked like he could be dragged off by the wind but could handle knives better than the finest dart players or the most skilled seaside chefs.

Now, should I be taking orders from my kid sister?

We’re both adults now.

Nineteen already, huh? He reached into his pocket, pulled out a small velvet box, and tossed it at Mirari. She caught it with both her hands and opened the lid just wide enough for her to take a peek inside.

Early birthday present, Salathiel said with