A Prophecy of Undone, page 1
A PROPHECY OF UNDONE
THE BORNBANE SERIES
BOOK TWO
I.A. TAKERIAN
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2023 by I.A. Takerian
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover Art by Moonpress.com
Edited by Samantha Swart
Maps drawn by Rachael Ward
Chapter headings drawn by Etheric Tales
Acknowledgments
To those who were consumed in the fires of life
To the shades of death that followed
To every new incarnation of yourself that stood from those ashes
Hope can conquer all
Contents
Prologue
1. Home
2. Breaking Down the Walls
3. Reading a Soul
4. Time Walker
5. The General of Flame and Vengeance
6. Flutters in Burned Silence
7. The Hollow Woman
8. The Beast Below a Legend of Old
9. In Darkness Deep
10. Cursed Curiosity
11. Faith in the Storm
12. Savior of the Damned
13. By Crystals Watchful Reverence
14. The Bond of Brethren
15. The Red Froth
16. Tales of Sword and Sea
17. Lightning’s Tongue and Waters Break
18. Captain of Salt and Blood
19. Through Shrouded Veils Cold Embrace
20. Silence to Learn
21. Alone and Without
22. The Sprite’s Song
23. Vengeance/Mercy
24. King of the Fairies
25. Garnering Favors
26. You and I
27. War Party
28. A Force to be Reckoned With
29. Reflections in Fear
30. Dark Image
31. Upon Ocean’s Mighty Stead
32. Ablaze
33. Light and Dawn
34. Rebirth of a Heart
35. A Warrior’s End
36. Goodnight
37. Becoming Who You Are
38. A Quest Begun
Fin
BONUS CHAPTER
Prologue
Deep within Castle Delinval
Adrian had only gone this far into the inner sanctum once before. It had been to escort Mara on her thirteenth birthday; to stand before the nobles and take her official title as heir to the throne. She had been petrified to go, knowing how hated she was by much of her uncle’s court. In her panic on the day of the ceremony, she had downright refused. Refused, unless Adrian, and Adrian alone, be there to walk by her side. His father had threatened him against the request, seeing as it was a break in tradition.
Adrian had done so willingly, happily. As one should do for someone they loved.
But now, here he stood, cold and alone. No princess with a shaking hand to hold for him to remind to walk with her head held high. It was only Adrian, heart pounding in fear and fury, standing in the candlelit shadows of the inner sanctum. He had burst in only a few short hours earlier, blind with wrath and bloodlust, demanding he be released to save their princess, his princess. His sword was still clutched at his side, his fingers wringing across the metal anxiously as he waited.
He would never forget those final moments. The royal guard at the end of her hallway, standing amongst the discarded, groaning bodies of their comrades. Adrian rushed forward, forcing his way to the front to stare wide eyed into the room. Framed in the window, holding a terrified and bound Mara so close that Adrian wanted nothing more than to cleave his arms from his body, was a Dread. Magick runes across his skin gleaming a sinister shade of white; his eyes fueled by a blue glow that existed nowhere in nature. And beyond it all, he had locked eyes with Adrian.
And he had smiled before throwing himself and Adrian’s heart from the window.
Adrian had screamed, rushing to the sill with arms outstretched. But it was too late. By magick, no doubt, the invaders had landed safely with their prize. A second man placed his hands on the untouched skin of Princess Mara. He threw her, kicking and screaming against her bindings, atop his dirty shoulder. They were off before Delinval knew what hit it.
Adrian had turned and rushed straight to the inner sanctum from there. When he burst through the doors it was to find Lord Lingrain and his battalion already knelt at the feet of King Grathiel.
They went silent, the guards on either side of the doors drawing their weapons on Adrian.
King Grathiel, clad in his night robes and looking eerily calm, raised his hand for them to lower their weapons.
He looked sadly at Adrian. “My dear boy. I knew you’d come.”
“They took her,” Adrian choked out, forgoing all etiquette. “Mara. She’s gone. You have to let me go after her.”
King Grathiel took a very deep breath. “Allow me to finish issuing my first orders, Adrian. And then we shall speak. Lingrain…” He motioned for the man and his party to rise and follow him to an anti-chamber. The door clicked shut behind them, and Adrian was left to his thoughts in the desperate silence.
His mind was already racing with stratagem. He was arguably one of the most powerful swordsmen in all of Delinval. If it weren’t for Mara, the title most certainly would have been his. His heart felt strangled, crippled at its own mention of her name. Even with all his strength, all his agility…magick was magick. He’d been too young to remember the war, but he’d heard every story from the elder knights. Every noble, every city maid and merchant of mid-age had a horror story from the battles that took place. What good would his silver and steel have against monsters who wielded the supernatural?
But these odds meant nothing to him. For Mara, he’d fight the Zenoths of old. For Mara, he’d fucking win.
The door to the anti-chamber finally opened, and King Grathiel strode into the room alone. Adrian knelt to the marble floor; head bowed in show of respect.
King Grathiel sighed. “Please. Stand. It is only you and I now, Adrian. Good as family.”
Adrian rose slowly from the ground. “My King. I ask you again, release me on your orders. I will go alone, if I must. But let me go after her.” Adrian was barely a knight, freshly appointed. He had no right to ask this. And if the King commanded he stay put…Well, then Adrian would give up every ounce of his nobility and take off after Mara anyway. It made his stomach clench painfully to think of how terrified she must be. For she was surely waiting for him to be the one to do so.
King Grathiel was staring at him with an appraising look. “Do you know who attacked us, my boy?”
Adrian’s jaw clenched as he remembered the smiling face of the bastard in the window. “Dreads, My King.”
“And as such, you must also know they use the forbidden magicks.”
“Yes, My King.”
“Do you truly think you stand a chance against such atrocities, Adrian?” King Grathiel had asked it softly, sounding more like a father than Adrian’s ever had.
He had spoken the very thing Adrian had just been contemplating. There was silence for a long moment. Then Adrian held his chin high, eyes flashing with promise. “I will save her. She’s…Mara is everything to me.” His voice broke. “And I would lay down my life if it meant her safe return.”
King Grathiel was studying his face once more. “Hmm. I believe you. I’ve had that same look in my eyes, the same fire in my heart, for a woman once. It truly is an unstoppable force. Yes…Yes, I think I can give you what you need to fight these Dreads, Adrian.” He pulled a small vial from the inside of his robes, hanging from his neck by a golden chain. The vial was made of black metal that seemed to be pulsing. Pulsing with magick.
Adrian took a step back on instinct. “What in the End of All is that?”
King Grathiel shook the bottle, and it emitted a strange jingling, like that of many bells. “This is something I keep very close to my heart. It helped us to win the Great War so many years ago. A gift to me, from a very dear friend.” He looked up at Adrian, his eyes narrowed. “Sometimes, Adrian…Sometimes one must fight fire with fire.”
“What are you saying?”
“You mean what am I offering.” He held the vial out towards Adrian. “I am offering you a chance, my boy. By infusing yourself with magick, you could best those Dreads. They’ll never see it coming.”
Adrian stared at the softly pulsing vial but did not take it. “You are suggesting I corrupt myself…?” All Adrian knew of magick was evil. It was a destructive force that changed all it touched, for the worse.
But King Grathiel was shaking his head, offering Adrian a warm smile. “No. No, I think you possess exactly what you need to fight such a transformation. You are driven by love.”
Adrian’s heart hammered at this, taking the bottle gingerly from the king’s hand.
King Grathiel held his arms wide. “Bring her home, Adrian. Bring her home, and I promise you, you will have her hand, just as you desire. You are the only one who could save her, and the only one meant to have her.”
And this was the final words Adrian needed to hear. H
I’m coming, Mara. Just hold on. I’m coming.
Chapter 1
Home
The sound of rustling leaves broke through the cloud of darkness. Mara scrunched her nose, smelling cinnamon and pine trees, fresh bread and salty air. The scents of the Hidden Village. Mara groaned, eyelids fluttering open. Everything on her body ached. It felt like she had been in a battle, one that she brutally lost. The sunlight, bright and unfiltered, was overwhelming. Mara squinted against it, blinking furiously to make out her surroundings.
She was lying in a small bed next to a window that took up most of the wall. The shutters had been pulled open, the wind brushing against her onyx curls. There were thousands of glittering potion bottles adorning the walls. Mara knew this place. She was in the healer’s hut back home.
Home.
Her heart gave an anxious tremble at the word. Every event that had happened over the last month began to play back in her head. And with it came a renewed wave of exhaustion. It felt unreal, like something she had read in a storybook rather than lived through. Footsteps resounded suddenly, and the door to Mara’s room was thrown open.
Cyfrin filled the entrance, massive bags under his impossibly blue eyes. His skin looked paler than she remembered, his lips pulled into a tense line. They stared at each other in silence. Then Cyfrin’s face split into a radiant smile.
“Welcome back, Dawnbringer.” Relief ached in his voice, his rune tattoos pulsing bright.
“Move your ass. You’re not the only one in the room, Cyfrin,” Caerani’s voice came in over his shoulder, commanding as she gave him a little shove. Cyfrin glared back at her, taking his place at the foot of Mara’s bed.
The room was filled in an instant. Drake and Caerani entered first, looking as relieved as Cyfrin, and just as exhausted. El and Kain entered next, beaming at her. El had tear-stained trails running down her cheeks but gave Mara two thumbs up. Milios followed at the rear, squeezing into the room, and escorting a woman with them.
“Elise!” Mara cried as her friend hobbled into the room, supported by Milios.
She had bandages running down the length of her right leg. What looked like thick leaves had been stuffed into the wrappings. The wounds on her arms, head, and face had been bandaged as well. She flashed a dazzling smile at Mara. “I cannot believe you carried me for three entire days!” Tears welled in her eyes, the smile fading. “Even more so, I cannot believe you didn’t tell me you got scratched by that Vikefo.”
Mara had almost forgotten about her wound, swept up in the moment. Her hand drifted down to a large, bulging bandage at her side. She winced. “Ah, is that what it was called?” She returned Elise’s cold stare with an apologetic smile.
Elise looked unamused. “Vikefos were created by failed Forest Dweller magicks. A combination of poisoned plant and magicked beast. Their venom is deadly, Mara. I don’t want to think what would have happened if Cyfrin and Milios hadn’t arrived when they did.”
Mara cringed away from the bite in her tone. “There was nothing we could have done about it, even if I had told you! Filigro and his sheep took our flares when they raided our camp.” Mara’s eyes went wide as she said it. She took a sharp intake of breath, turning to Caerani. “He ambushed us, that bastard! Said he was going to kill me to open the way to the crown!”
“Ay, but you told him all about himself, didn’t you?” Drake said, winking.
Caerani smirked at her. “Elise told us everything. From the sounds of it, you handled Filigro the way any of us would. A traitor to the crown is a traitor to us all.”
Mara could see both Kain and Cyfrin looking at her with glowing pride. Their little warrior, felling an enemy. She smiled bashfully back at them, but the remaining fog around her memory was dimming. And the image of the One Who Sees All flashed across her mind.
Her eyebrows drew together in anger, fury wracking her voice. “There was something that happened while Elise was sleeping one night. Something I never told her.”
The energy in the room shifted. Cyfrin, Caerani, and Drake all pulled away from her instinctively, Elise staring with her mouth slightly open. Mara fixed her burning gaze on Caerani. “Tell me about the Prophecy of Undone.”
The room fell into petrified silence. Mara felt a pang of disappointment as every person in the room drew in a sharp breath. So, they all knew then, she thought, gritting her teeth and clenching down till her jaw throbbed from the pressure.
Caerani shook her head, looking down at her feet. “I suppose it was foolish of me to try and keep it from you. I just…we had already placed a lifetime upon your shoulders. You’ve had no time to even process. You were training every single day. You looked healthy, maybe even happy. I didn’t want to disturb that peace.”
Mara was on her feet, wobbling hard. Cyfrin was at her side in an instant, looking ashamed and avoiding her eyes as he steadied her. She allowed it, standing to the tallest extent she could while leaning on his arm. Drake looked uncomfortable, fidgeting absentmindedly with his rat skull necklace. Kain, El, and Milios were suddenly very interested in the labels of potion bottles on the walls.
“That was not your choice to make,” Mara said, her voice cracking a little. “I lived in the dark my entire life. How could you all lie to me?”
Caerani gave her a sad look. “I’m sorry, Mara. There is no excuse. Please, let me make up for it now.” She motioned for Mara to sit, eyeing her trembling legs.
Cyfrin lowered a begrudging Mara to sit on the edge of her bed. He remained standing by her side, head still bowed in shame.
Caerani sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose, and thinking. “What I’m going to tell you…you mustn’t let it weigh on your heart. No matter what, this is your home. These are your people. Nothing could ever change that.” The silence was painfully heavy, Caerani meeting Mara’s angry stare once more. “Long ago, centuries before the Great War or any of us were even a sliver in the universe’s grand plan, there was the beginning of all magick. The Zenoth’s adored what they had created here so much, that they gifted parts of themselves to the people who inhabited these lands. The ultimate gift. Each Zenoth shared the core of themselves twice, blessing us with the incredible magick we use today. When Mezilmoth was locked behind the Dark Gate, the spell that sealed him there took a heavy toll. The blood of a Zenoth so powerful that it’s life force could keep him contained for what they hoped was forever. The only Zenoth to use celestial magicks.”
Her eyes dropped back to Mara. “The Zenoth who gave power to the Dawnbringer bloodline. Your bloodline. And amidst the bloodshed of that final battle, an ancient seer divined a prophecy as old as the earth on which you stand.”
Even the wind seemed to stop as she spoke with closed eyes, as if it knew the power behind her words.
“When time has passed, and earth lay black.
When air chokes thick from corruption’s crack.
When darkness wins over sealed gate,
And end of all is only fate.
Only then can life be saved
By starlit will and determined brave.
Sealed back by dawn and light
