Chapter One | The First Touch of Sunlight

We studied each other in the faint, pink hue of twilight. There was a chill in the air that seemed to breathe with us. The Presence. It was still here, but even the weakest, diminutive rays of light were enough to diminish its power. Our foreheads rested against one another, our souls reuniting in the epoch of new sun.

"The first dawn in a thousand years," he whispered in my ear. "And you've brought it to us."

Aurelian leaned into me, weak as the light that now crept over the horizon. His eyes were perplexing to me, seeming to reflect both burden and relief. His body trembled as it pressed into mine, wrapping his hands around my waist and moving them around feverishly. His breath was hot and shallow, curling down the nape of my neck. When we parted, he took me in again, this time with vigor and intensity, savoring my lips as honey in famine.

"I've waited ten years to feel you again, my amara. How I've longed for this moment, how I've feared it..."

He gripped me fiercely now, refusing to let go. His fingertips traced every inch of my torso as the kiss deepened. Soft lines he had never dared touch, were now helpless under his thumb. At first the pressure was soft, inviting, and protective. It quickly washed over me with an intensity like nothing I had ever felt before, one that left me wanting more. It was something otherworldly; a feeling that my humanity could not decipher. Our bond. My heart quickened. Then, a sea change. His grip tightened. Pleasure became pain. Like a serpent, his grasp began crushing me.

"Ari," I whispered as I pulled my lips from his, barely able to get the breath out of my lungs.

He recoiled, suddenly aware of his strength. The was a pallor to my skin, but as the air returned, so did the color. He tried to to pull away, but was somehow unable to release me in that instant. There was something overshadowing him, begging him to hold on, while he tried with all of his might to let go. The ebb and flow of my startled and shallow breath returned him to a moment he had long tried to forget. It was a divide in him, a momentary torment darkening his eyes.

"I won't spare her," he heard his brother say. He saw images of my cold and lifeless body lying at the bottom of the Cursed Throne. He remembered the beckon of the Darkness: "Unite your powers with mine, and make her live again. Take me, King Aurelian. Rule me. Rule her."

He suddenly let go, feeling the sword in his hands once more. He saw his brother standing before him and plunged the weapon through him. Then, in an instant, Faolan's bloody and demented smile was transformed into a look of shock and fear, not in his brother's face, but on mine. He saw the fatal wound in my abdomen, and backed away. He breathed fiercely and closed his eyes. And just as quickly as it began, the vision was over.

"Ari, I'm alright," I reached out and touched him. He squeezed my hand in return, frightened and confused.

"It was a mistake that you came here. The portal was opened by no power of mine." He softened his touch before falling against me, shaking. He was barely conscious now, eyes heavy.

"Aurelian?" I asked in uncertainty, supporting his weight so that he didn't come crashing to the floor.

He gestured toward the window. I led him there, bearing some of his weight on my shoulders, and leaned him against its stony frame. He placed his hand on mine, gathering his strength, and let out a deep breath.

The sky, once a deep red, was beginning to cede its darkness. The early sun dyed the sky shades of orange, purple, and pink. The moon was low hanging, but not set. The star rose so slowly it appeared anchored in place. The world was still dark and cold, but there was now hope tinting its skies. Behind me, I could hear the heavy wood of the door thudding open and closed.

"A mistake? No. The portals chose her. The Wood of Worlds at work. Neither man nor Amar can direct its true flow. There can be no mistake with the Sun Daughter's return," a voice chimed. I turned my head and met a familiar set of spectacled eyes. "He is still weary from his King Sleep. He has not spent the last ten years on the cursed throne, dear amara, but in deep slumber."

Before us stood a man of diminutive stature. His beard was long and white, now nearly to the floor. Grey sideburns swooped out from underneath his red, conical cap. Bottle-like bifocals sat on the bridge of his nose, magnifying his small, grey eyes so that they were five times their original size. His ruddy cheeks and placid demeanor radiated a warmth that made the chill of this place fitful. When he opened his mouth to speak, it was though demons were being both stirred up and chased away. I breathed in uncertain relief.

"Dock."

"Indeed," he replied. "Now that you have reunited, we must leave this place. There is much for you to do, much for you to learn. What I must tell you, I cannot say here. It is too close to the Cursed Throne. A dwarf may walk through these corridors, but may not loose his tongue; for the Darkness is blind to our kind, but is not deaf. The walls have ears."