Dark Breaks the Dawn (Untitled Duology #1)
Sara B. Larson
An eon of peace, a world of joy,
Until it was shattered, by one foul boy, A youngling at sixteen, Drystan his name, For the first blood spilt, came his dark fame.
Banished he was, with followers in tow, Power taken, as the final blow.
But cursed we were, immortality lost, For the deeds he did, this was the cost.
Take heed, and follow not his path,
Or curse be restored, and removed, that we hath.
Peace is required, for life to thrive, Those who seek power, from our shores we must drive.
Balance is required, such a thin knife, That binds us all, and gives us life.
—DRAíOLON NURSERY RHYME
THE JEWELED FOREST BLURRED INTO A TAPESTRY OF color as Evelayn sprinted away from the castle. She whipped past the trees and bushes as though she was made from the wind that pushed at her back. The sentries unlucky enough to have been assigned to guard her—or, more accurately, to trail her—on these early morning runs were already falling behind, their harsh breathing cutting across the gray-tinged stillness of dawn.
Good, she couldn’t help but think, as she kicked up her heels and pushed herself even harder. What she really wanted right now was to be alone, something nearly impossible to achieve. Inside the castle, on the grounds, even with just her sentries, she knew her duty. She knew the part she had to play. The queen had taught her well.
But she’d jerked awake this morning after yet another nightmare, only to realize that nothing had changed. Evelayn had found it harder than ever to don the mask that she was usually so adept at summoning. The queen must always appear calm, unruffled. Your subjects will look to you; your actions will determine theirs. Her mother’s words, and Evelayn had lived by them her whole life. After all, she would be the queen one day. Hopefully in the very distant future.
But what kind of queen would she be without her full power?
Evelayn’s lungs burned hot for a moment, her throat went raw with suppressed emotion. Her sentries were no longer visible—or audible—but still she struggled for control. It was all she knew; it was her only defense against the rising panic.
Because it was her eighteenth birthday and nothing had changed.
She hadn’t planned on running today, but after pacing in her room for a few minutes, Evelayn couldn’t stand the silence or the tightness in her belly any longer. She’d pulled her lavender-streaked hair into a ponytail, yanked on her soft, supple running boots, and splashed water on her pale face. Evelayn had tried not to scowl at the dark circles beneath her violet eyes when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Too many sleepless nights, worrying about the war. Worrying about her mother.
Queen Ilaria had promised she’d return from the warfront for Evelayn’s birthday and the ceremony that was to take place that night. Evelayn could only hope her mother was going to keep that promise. She didn’t want to see another Draíolon, didn’t want to talk to anyone, except her mother.
Without even realizing it, she’d run north of the castle, skirting the city of Solas, heading for the high ground that would enable her to watch for her mother’s arrival. It was a longer run than normal, and Tyne, her lady-in-waiting, would certainly be concerned, upset even, if she came to Evelayn’s room and found it empty … but certainly she was at least allowed this, wasn’t she? A brief escape as she tried to come to grips with the fact that her full power hadn’t manifested—that something was wrong with her. The future queen of éadrolan.
The morning had grown lighter above her when Evelayn glanced up; in fact, she realized that if she squinted, the first rays of the sunrise were beginning to streak across the sky to the east, above the treetops. And then, in the infinitesimal break between one heartbeat and the next, something slammed into her. It felt as though her body had turned to flame, scorching her from within.
For the first time in her entire life her conduit stone burned in her breastbone.
Evelayn instinctively skidded to a halt, throwing out her hands to protect herself, expecting only the small burst of light she’d been capable of creating since she was a youngling. But instead, a ball of flame erupted from her right hand and a jet of light from the left. The light tore through the lush earth, leaving behind a black gash, and the fireball exploded against a nearby tree with an earth-shattering boom.
Evelayn slapped her hands over her ears with a howl of pain and blinked her eyes rapidly to clear the sudden tears from the onslaught of light and color and scent and everything. Until that moment she had existed in a world trapped by the pale, watery shades of dawn and had suddenly been thrust into the light of noon-day sun at Summer Solstice. Slowly the initial heat and shock of it all ebbed away, but the changes remained.
The blanket she’d always known was there, subduing her senses, had been pulled away. But no matter how many times she’d been taught about the block placed on all younglings’ magic, no matter how often she’d been told what to expect on her eighteenth birthday, nothing could have prepared her for this. This was what éadrolan truly looked like? Smelled like? Sounded like? She’d known it would be different, but this …
Evelayn slowly turned in a circle, letting her hands drop to her sides, allowing the sounds—there were so many sounds—to wash over her, to fill her. She inhaled deeply, trying to identify the myriad scents she’d never noticed before. Beneath the acrid smell of the tree she’d burnt, the perfume of the flowers surrounding her was so much headier than she’d ever realized; the musk of the earth beneath her feet was so much denser, more complex … And the colors. Oh, the colors. Details she hadn’t known were physically possible to see until that moment blurred as tears filled her eyes. This time, Evelayn didn’t fight them. She’d never been so overwhelmed in her whole life, except perhaps when her mother had returned from that first battle nearly a decade ago without her father. But that had been a stunned, bone-deep grief. This was … disbelief mingled with indescribable awe.
An unfamiliar scent—something citrusy and spicy all at once—caught her attention moments before she realized the soft thumping sounds she could hear were a Draíolon running through the forest. Evelayn spun in dismay just as a male burst through the trees to the north of her, his amber eyes flickering to the still-smoking tree and the black gash in the ground before returning to hers.