Page 22 of Secrets of Avalon
This Changing of the Guard ceremony will be my last as a prince. Each step of my horse, each grain of sand that drops through the hourglass of life, brings me closer to the moment where my life and my world changes irrevocably. And now, with this woman appearing in my life at the same time… it’s fate.
The feral beast in me, growing stronger each day, knows she’s here too. And he wants her with a ferocity that I should fear, but I don’t. I embrace the hunger and the drive to find what’s mine. This night will be the beginning of a new era– for Camelot, for me, and perhaps for the entire world.
I urge my horse through the crowded streets, the air thick with the scent of spiced meats and sweet wines. Not only does royalty come to celebrate the Changing of the Guard inside the castle, but many from each world come to set up this open market festival and celebrate for the surrounding week before and after.
Usually, I'd stop, speak with people, admire their goods—the picture of a caring prince. But now, she consumes my every thought. She's here, tantalizingly close, yet frustratingly out of reach—a mystery my very being aches to solve.
Why can’t I find her?
“Prince Stormblood, I didn’t expect to see you back so early.” One of my soldiers steps out of the crowd. “Didn’t you leave late last night?”
“Something came up.” I dismount and hand him the reins. “Would you see to it that he makes it back to the gate for me when I’m ready.”
“Yes, your majesty, of course.”
Moving on, I engage with the vendors, exchanging warm greetings and inquiring about their families and how their businesses are going. On foot now, I have no excuse. It would be rude not to stop.
My heart races with a mix of duty and urgency. Fae royalty have to be beyond reproach. We have to prove generation after generation to all the other worlds that we are in control. That nothing is amiss. I’ve watched my father navigate these responsibilities with grace and wisdom. It’s a daunting path, but one I am ready to walk.
I just need the missing piece. I need to find her, because she will help me restore my soul and keep that desperately needed control, but now, something else disrupts my hunt…
Screams pierce the night’s merriment–some human, some goat.
My focus sharpens. I see it, a burst of glowing green energy in the distance– the unmistakable signature of Drakonii magick. Something is wrong, terribly wrong, and it sets every nerve in my body on edge.
I run, weaving through the panicked crowd. The frenzy intensifies as I near the heart of the commotion where the Drakonii stands, bright wings curled around something. Like he’s protecting it.
But I can’t look there long, another closer scream draws my focus to a small figure– a child, paralyzed with fear in the path of a spooked horse and cart.
I call up my magick. The air whirls around me, the very fabric of reality bending to my command.
The runaway cart, now like a wild beast, its driver nowhere to be seen, charges toward the child.
With a surge of power, I stretch out my hands, and manipulate the earth ahead of the cart. Stone and mortar rise, twisting and coiling into a makeshift bridge that spirals upward, out, and over the wall of the castle. I can’t just make the cart turn, the panicked horse would injure others.
My heart hammers in my chest, adrenaline fueling my strides. The child’s wide, terrified eyes find mine. I reach for the child just as the horse makes the choice to climb the bridge I created for it, escaping from the chaos of the festival and the Drakonii magick that spooked it.
I scoop the child into my arms, their small body a paradox—light in weight yet infinitely heavy with the responsibility it represents. With a reassuring smile and gentle embrace, I meet their wide, fearful eyes, willing calm into their racing heart.
I quickly scan for the frantic parents and return the little girl to her mother’s waiting arms. A chorus of thank yous and bless yous follow the reunion, but my attention never truly abandoned the larger scene.
Other guards have cleared the rest of the crowds back and are working to remove the bridge I erected and calm down the runaway horse. No one else is in danger and my attention finally returns to the epicenter of the chaos–the glowing wings of the Drakonii.
With each stride, the crowd's murmurs fade, overtaken by the roar of my pulse. As the radiant wings of magick dissolve, she emerges—the woman haunting my thoughts, no longer a vision but vividly, achingly real.
She’s here. Right in front of me.
And she’s not alone. She’s wrapped in the arms of a Drakonii, his magick encasing them in a protective cocoon. My jaw clenches. This man, this dragon, holds her like she’s his to protect, his to comfort. He’s big, taller than me, imposing, and his protective body language is an unmistakable claim.
I see it pulsing inside her, near her collarbone—the shattered piece of my soul. Every fiber of her being calls to me, a siren's song made flesh, pulling me forward with an irresistible force.
Mine. He has what’s mine.
Episode 4
CHAPTER 10
She's Here, She's Real, She's... His?