rse
Amanda Mondoux
Contents
Title
Copyright
Dedication
Whyre Curse
About the Author
Forbidden Era Teaser
Route of Veracity Teaser
Title: Whyre Curse
ISBN: 9781476313696
Copyright: Amanda Mondoux
The right of Amanda Mondoux to be identified as author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.
This story is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and events are creations of the author that exist solely in writing.
Dedication
This story was written in honor of the wonderful fans who joined my face book page and attended the release bash of Forbidden Era. They answered a handful of questions, and this tale formed from their responses. I decided to publish to share with everyone for free, but also to work on my formatting skills. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it.
1
Dusk fell, casting the world in dismal gray and black. Shadows moved and shifted with the collapsing sun, joining the screams of agony and terrifying roars in a nightmare fit for the wildest imaginations. Soon the only light remaining came from the infernos devouring the trees and claiming the corpses littering the ash-coated forest in a cackling wave of death.
Lily held fast to Esmond’s mane as the unicorn dashed through the devastation. She struggled to breathe, but the air had been replaced with dense smoke that smothered her every attempt. Her muscles cried in torment, her eyes moist from the sting and fear, and her faerie wings, once the fairest around with their lavender trim and translucent mauve highlights, were frayed and torn. Each jump bounced her further down the silk back of her mysterious savior, sweat and filth creating a slick surface over the once gleaming white coat. The combination would eventually throw her from salvation and into the belly of the beasts hunting her.
And it was her they sought. When the creatures arrived, she thought it to be a random assault from the Whyre. These cursed souls, the deadly mix deformed shapes of lions, tigers, bears, and other horrendous forms assaulted everyone and everything, seemingly with no mind for order just an incurable lust for blood. Faeries, elves, and any other being unfortunate enough to be in Crylagon Forest, fell to the mindless brutality.
Until he came; the faerie with black wings and silver lining who brought order.
Esmond jumped again, throwing Lily from his back. Her small frame folded around a tree trunk on impact, all air rushing from her lungs to be replaced with a tongue of flame that raged through her body. She struggled to fly, her wings fluttering at a furious pace, but the numerous gashes prevented her from gaining any height and she fell. Limbs folded in unnatural direction with each branch to strike her. She grabbed at each in attempt to prevent her descent, but each ended in failure. She met the ground with force that stole vision in bursts. Blood pooled around her, seeping from gruesome lacerations into the soil to create a vivid lilac glow that claimed her consciousness.
2
The corridor was lined with ivy, a jade green in color with vivid lilac flowers opening their eyes to her as she passed. Moss coated the dirt path, a soft cushion to her bare feet. Light reached for her from ahead in lashes of crimson that lacked the malicious feel of flame. It welcomed her, embracing her mind with a warm hand while enticing her forward.
The foliage gathered in an arc of woven beauty at its conclusion. Beyond lay a room shelled with marbled walls that reflected the light radiating from a diamond structure hovering in the air. Below this stood the dark faerie, his wings swaying to a steady rhythm only he heard. The glow from the object above highlighted the silver outline of those wings, giving them an aura that moved to surround him. His raven hair fell in feathers to either side of his head, settling between the wings.
She halted and he gazed over his shoulder. Their eyes met, ice blue irises ensnaring her with unbound intensity. His hand lifted, thin finger pointing above. “He stirs. Are you ready?”
Her voice failed at the coming of fear. This faerie—no he couldn’t be a faerie and control victims of such a powerful curse; the negative energy would kill him. This man could not be an ally, but an enemy. One tentative step at a time, she withdrew, her heart racing and head throbbing.
Thin lips rose in semblance of a smile, a half formed smirk brimming with knowledge unshared. His arm fell, his hand outstretched to her. “Terror only assaults the ignorant. I can help you.”
3
Lily awoke to the soft embrace of Esmond’s magic. The unicorn had his golden horn gently pressed against her with a flow of magic coursing down it and into her. Lily could feel her wounds mending, mild burning focused around the edges of each laceration, the magic pulling them closed. Weariness drained from her in a wave of relief as the magic released and Esmond straightened.
The unicorn seemed as a beacon against the darkness, the shadows seeming to cower in fear of him. He tipped his elegant head, studying her with one of his round cyan eyes. “I apologize. Can you stand?”
Something screeched in the distance. “I fear I don’t have a choice.” Clenching her jaw, she slid her hands to either side of her and bent her knees, placing her feet flat against the ground. After a deep breath in preparation of pain, she pushed off the ground and to her feet, then stared for a moment of surprise at her body. “That didn’t hurt?”
“I would hope not.” He scanned the darkness. “We must continue.”
A little bravery returned with her mended wings. She fluttered to his back, settling between the sharp edges of his shoulder blades. “Who exactly are you? Why are you helping me? Where are you taking me?” She ran his mane through her fingers. All evidence of sweat was gone returning it to its silk state. “Why are the Whyre after me? Who is that man? I just…”
“You are confused. This is natural.” He began at a steady trot, his hooves not making a sound even when striking at rock. “I am a guardian, and am helping you because you will help my task. I am taking you to where you are needed. The cursed are after you to prevent you from helping me and to use you for their own gain. I do not know who—“
His muscles tensed and ears perked, each shifting to listen to alternate directions. Brush cracked to the right and he darted forward. Lily grabbed his mane to avoid being thrown. Her body bounced from his back, her wings fluttering furiously to prevent impact. The position allowed her to see the reason for the dash. The beady red eyes burned into her, and continued even after she clenched her eyes shut. Its fangs were like daggers, its massive maw greater than that of an alligator.
He deceives you. The familiar voice from her dream whispered in her mind.
Lily opened looked back, but all she saw was darkness. She had been a telepath since birth though her skills were mediocre at best. Thing was that she always had a tight lock on her mind; the only way she would be able to speak to another telepath was for her mind to “hear” his him. Doing this without focusing was possible, but never for her. It had to be his influence, and that terrified her. He had to have sent the beast after her.
Esmond slowed his pace after an untold amount of time. Lily’s wings were sore and her muscles stiff. She settled on his back, staring in silence at the castle looming over the horizon, beyond a barren plain. Three towers reached to a gathering of dark clouds that seemed only to exist for it. Despite the frightening appearance, despite the feeling of dread settli
ng in her tender stomach, she felt drawn to the place.
“What is that?” Her question emerged as a whisper, nearly drowned by the clacking of his hooves against the packed soil.
She feared he didn’t hear her after several moments passed without a response. He stopped walking and turned to look at her. “Crimous Sprin.”
Ice ran down her spine and all moisture seeped from her mouth and throat. The story of the fallen kingdom was one used to frighten naughty faerlets into behaving. Before her lurked the castle in which the Whyre curse began. According to the legend, the curse had been placed at the end of a grueling war, the victims being the very souls who started the fighting. She knew nothing of the battle, but she did know that, according to the fable, king Gratain radiated the curse; he being the only who could spread the plague without having to bite a victim.
“I see the terror etched on your fair face. You must wonder why I would bring you to such a foul place.”
She swallowed, the little bit of phlegm feeling as sand as it grated down her throat. “Yes.”
A single nod acknowledged her plea for reason. He turned and moved at a slow walk. “After the War of Corpses, Astan and his remaining troops sealed Gratain in this castle to contain the curse he created.”
“Wait.” The wind howled and crabgrass muttered at its passing. “I thought he was cursed for