Storm Holt (The Prophecies of Zanufey Book 3) by A. Evermore

of blood, but the Elders are learned and skilled. The bleeding has stopped, though it will take time to heal fully. Movement can help, and I was getting sore from lying down. I could sleep no longer.’ He embraced her again and felt her sag weakly in his arms.  
    ‘Let’s sit,’ he said hastily, and helped her sit beside him, she leant most her weight on him. ‘We should take you back to bed.’
    ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘I want to stay here with you.’
    He stroked back a lock of her hair, noticed the smooth curve of her cheek in the light coming from the Elder’s house. ‘I cannot stay,’ he said.
    ‘I know,’ she said without looking at him. ‘That’s why I don’t want to go back to bed. I don’t want to be alone.’
    ‘I have a wife and children,’ he began. Perhaps she knew already. A flicker of pain passed across her features. ‘And I must return to them. I miss them and my home. The goddess calls us, we cannot ignore that call. I never really thought about the goddess much. I thought like most think, that she, in all her guises, had abandoned us to our fate. But now the dark moon of Zanufey rises, and because of it, because of her, my curse has been lifted so that I might right a terrible wrong I committed. I have to set my knights free for good.’ He said these things, the truth, and yet all he wanted to do was to stay here with Jarlain and the Gurlanka. Set down his sword and heal his warrior spirit once and for all.
    ‘Tell me what you did. It’s time to hear it all, I’m not afraid and I won’t judge. I know you for who you really are. Who we were in the past is not who we are today,’ Jarlain said.
    Marakon looked at her and sighed. He didn’t want to talk about it, but they had to know, she had to know. He finished his mug of spirits and stared at the burning pyre. Where to begin? The memories of that far away time rolled through his mind, and they were as clear as if it had all happened yesterday.
    ‘A long time ago, I’m not sure how far back, but it was during the Demon Wars over three thousand years ago, when I was king of the ancient sunken land of Unafay.’ Jarlain leaned back to stare at him, disbelief in her eyes.
    Marakon smiled. ‘I’m not lying. It was your High Elder who revealed that part to me just a few hours ago.’ Jarlain looked away and curled closer in to him as he spoke. He told her everything that he remembered; of his honourable knights and their battles against the demons, of his rise to power and greed for more, of being tricked by Karhluses and slaughtering hundreds of innocent people. He told her everything as quickly as he could, thinking that if he spoke fast the emotions would have no time to break through. She did not say a word, even for a long time after he’d finished. Eventually she broke the silence.
    ‘I wish I was cursed with you, like one of your knights,’ she replied, jutting her chin forward and pursing her lips.
    ‘No you do not,’ he said, shaking his head. His voice was hoarse from all the talking. He didn’t want to think about the past anymore. ‘I will miss you, terribly, and want you to come with me.’
    She looked at the ground. ‘My duty is here with my people. I must help rebuild our home and lives, and heal the pain of those left behind. One day I will become an Elder. And, if it is right and appropriate and the Hidden Ones speak to me, I will become the High Elder. I can take no husband.’
    ‘I don’t want you to have your ears broken,’ Marakon scowled.
    She shrugged. ‘For the good of all, I would. But they say I already have a special gift, the gift of foresight, and if it is through that that the Hidden Ones will speak to me, then my ears need not be stilled.’ Marakon felt a little relieved at that.
    ‘Does it annoy you when they call you half-elven?’ she asked, changing the subject.
    ‘Yes,’ Marakon said. She giggled.  
    ‘I like the sound of it though, they seem brave and beautiful,’ she said,