Embers to Flames (Fates Entwined #1)

Epilogue

Mikyl

A s the carriage trundled down the road, I hugged my knees to my chest, the chill of the iron shackles biting into my wrists. The cage that holds me is barely bigger than a coffin, each jostle and bump of the wheels over the uneven road sends jolts of pain through my bruised body.

From between the bars, I can see a sliver of the night sky. It is a cruel sight, beautiful and untouchable. Stars glitter like a thousand tiny pricks of light scattered across the inky black canvas. A painter’s dream, but a prisoner’s despair.

I know this is what I deserve. Rosanhi had no choice but to testify against me. But the thought of spending three years in a cage at the Malone Prison, with no companion but cold iron and my guilt-ridden thoughts… it’s unbearable .

The carriage jerks to a sudden stop and I’m thrown against the hard metal bars. Groaning, I try to steady myself, my heart pounding wildly as the door creaks open. The harsh glare of torchlight momentarily blinding me, and I squint against it, struggling to make out the figure standing in front of me.

“Hello, Mikyl,” came a voice as cold and unfeeling as an icicle. Prince Ruvyn.

His eyes glint in the light of the fire, his mouth twisted into a smirk. A handful of Elves—but not Elves—stand behind him. Hulking monstrosities swallowed whole by shadow except for their gleaming eyes; eyes that hold no humility, only cruelty.

With one swift motion, the prince reaches through the bars and yanks me forward by my chain-linked handcuffs. Pain shoots up my arms as he studies me with an almost bored expression.

“We have a long journey ahead,” he says in that same chilling voice. “I do hope you’ll make it interesting.”

Before I can react, I’m hauled out of the carriage and shoved onto my knees in front of the prince. He stands tall and imperious, his cloak billowing in the wind, seeming to merge with the dark mass of his shadowed warriors behind him. His icy gaze meets mine, unflinching.

I glance over my shoulder and my breath catches in my throat. Lying in pools of their own blood, are the two guards responsible for my escort to Malon. Their once vibrant elven eyes now stare blankly at the night sky above them. Their own throats hollowed out, gaping wounds that are stark and horrifying against their pale skin.

My gaze flickers back to Ruvyn, my heart pounding in my chest. His face is a mask of indifference, his eyes devoid of any emotion.

“Stand up. Walk,” he commands after a moment, his tone making it clear there is no room for defiance.

Slowly, as if every bone in my body is made of lead, I obey. The moon, only half full, provides minimal light and the towering shadows of massive dead and leafless trees loom over us like dark giants. I can’t help but shudder.

“What do you want with me?” I manage to whisper out, my voice strangled by fear. There’s no answer from him. The only sound is the crunching of sand and red dirt beneath our feet and the distant hoot of an owl.

“I have a proposition for you, Mikyl,” he finally says. “You’re to be my new… ambassador.” He stops momentarily, releasing my chains to turn and face me under the dim moonlight filtering through tree branches overhead. His eyes peer into mine as if searching for sincerity within them. “Freedom comes at a price.” He reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a small vial filled with a glowing liquid. “This is the price for yours.”

“Is that Auraroot?” I ask, dread pooling in my stomach.

“It’s a new recipe,” he says, his hand trembling as he holds out the vial to me. “If you truly love Rosanhi,” he states bluntly, his piercing gaze locking onto mine, “you will do this without hesitation.”

I swallow hard, the echo of his words rattling around in my skull. The moonlight catches on the vial, making the liquid inside dance and shine. It’s beautiful and terrifying all at once.

Just like Rosanhi. I think with a bitter smile.

“But why do you need me?” I ask. I can feel his eyes studying me, searching for any hint of defiance or rebellion. “Rosanhi doesn’t love me anymore. I hurt her because of this,” I say, hanging my head in shame.

“You underestimate her,” he responds, his voice filled with disdain. “And you underestimate yourself.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“You think she is ok out there in this realm all alone?” He asks with a crooked chuckle. “She is already being taken advantage of. That winged Elf, Theo has brainwashed her. She needs you, Mikyl.” His words hit me like a slap to the face. It’s a twisted argument, one designed to gnaw at my guilt and exploit my love for Rosanhi. “We have something in common, you and I,” the prince continues, lowering the vial so that it dangles between us. “We both want what is best for Rosanhi.”

“That’s where you are wrong,” I snap back, finding sudden courage. “You don’t care about what’s best for her. This is all a trick! All you want is power!”

The prince merely chuckles at my accusation, unphased. “Is that so? If I only cared about power, why would I be standing here with this?” He shakes the vial of Auraroot slightly in emphasis.

I stare at him in confusion. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that sometimes, to protect those we care about most, we must make difficult decisions,” he says quietly. His gaze hardens as he meets my eyes again. “We must become monsters.”

The silence stretches out between us as I try to process his words until he finally breaks it. “So, what will it be then?” He thrusts the vial towards me once more. “Are you willing to become a monster for Rosanhi?”

Tears sting the corner of my eyes as I look at the vial then back up at Ruvyn’s expectant face. I feel my resolve crumbling, replaced with a desperate need to heal the hurt I caused Rosanhi. “I…” I hesitate, my hand quivering as I reach out to take the vial. But before I can touch it, the prince yanks it away and steps back.

“No,” he corrects me sternly. “Say it. Are you willing to become a monster for Rosanhi?”

I swallow hard, staring into his icy eyes, seeing the truth of his words. “Yes,” I say finally, my voice barely above a whisper. “For her… I would do anything.”

Prince Ruvyn rewards my submission with a satisfied smirk, placing the vial gently back into my trembling hand. As I clutch it tightly in my grip, the harsh reality of what I just agreed to sinks in .

With one last glance at him, I throw my head back and let the liquid slide down my throat. The immediate sensation is warmth—a strange contrast to the chilly air surrounding us. Then a sudden rush of energy pulsates through my body, making me shudder.

The prince watches me in silent curiosity until every last drop is gone. Then he starts walking again, without so much as a backward glance, and I follow him, feeling stronger and more alive than ever before.