Prologue

The night the prince was born, there was a blizzard in
Druunor. The flakes were accumulating on the ground and
Leonerin kept his eyes glued to them. Shimmering, they
seemed like stars falling from the sky. He had always loved
the stars, they felt more like home than anything else- even
Druunor. He felt like this every time it snowed in Druunor. He
was used to the snow; he loved it more than anything in life. It
reminded him of the mountains and the scent right before the
clouds would open up and let it fall… it was his favorite by
far. It was the most beautiful and peaceful thing he could ever
experience. The only peaceful thing that has ever existed for
him. The snow weighed heavy on the barn’s roof, and
Leonerin struggled to keep the horses in their stalls. He felt
their simmering fear as the roof creaked, but he had just fixed
it last week and knew it wouldn’t give in like it did
previously. The snow had fallen on the poor creatures in their
sleep. Upon waking up to their terrorized cries, he had run
barefoot to the barn from the manor, thinking that they were
being slaughtered. Druunor was safe, but he never quite knew
what to expect anymore. Any good soldier for the king was
always a little suspicious.

Lightning hit all around them, and he ran his hand down
the neck of his stallion, trying desperately to calm him. With
another intense crack, his best friend appeared at the door to
the barn, breathing heavily with a contagious smile across his
face. Borealis was Leonerin’s closest friend, and they had
been appointed as the protectors of the babe, the two soldiers
that would ensure that he was safe when his mother passed
after the birth. Leonerin was always the head of the Druunish
forces, so it only made sense for him and his second-incommand
to take the position of protecting the heir. The king
would be too busy and too tired to be at the birth. With the
death of his Queen, he’d wither away, their blood bond
moving to the afterlife with her soul. Bonded in Druunor
always stayed bonded in The Other.

Borealis, more commonly regarded as Rea, was
overjoyed. Ever the emotional one between the two friends,
his heart was always in plain sight for everyone to see. The
only time it was ever tucked away was when he was in battle,
and since the past war, that was incredibly rare. His red hair
sparkled under the stars and moon of the night; the flames
tucked away in their lanterns cast a warm glow to his freckled
face. Everyone in Druunor loved Rea. He was always so
happy, the kingdom’s golden boy. His parents were overjoyed
when he happened to make Leonerin’s acquaintance as a boy
and get himself a one-way ticket into the Druunor army. They
had met in the market, only five years difference in age. Rea
had coaxed Leonerin into a game of kickball with the other
adolescents, a small mercy he was rarely granted in his
position. He was never just a boy, he was always Leonerin,
The Guard.

Leonerin and Borealis were the only trusted ones in the
court to raise the boy. Best friends, brothers in a way. They
both had experience in war, knew their allies and their
enemies, and had no other commitments. Neither of them
were married or had romantic interests, nothing to tie them
back. Loyal to death, they both valued the heir of Druunor
more than their own lives.

Both of them had fought in the war with King Braon. The
king had been wild at the time, merely a boy. Freshly
coronated, he was violent in every way and craved blood in
the most vicious of manners. The king was used to
slaughtering everyone who crossed his path. Leonerin
frequently had to bring a dagger with him to Braon’s
chambers when his dreams would terrorize him as a reality.
Leonerin, who had known Braon all his life, was committed
to seeing it through. Even after he promised Braon’s father on
his deathbed that he would kill his son, given he becomes too
violent. Although Leonerin could never fathom following
through with the command, he was still relieved when Braon
met his match.

Kara always complimented Braon in both stubbornness
and wit. Every sarcastic comment out of Braon’s mouth, Kara
would squash like a simple little fly. She was always wittier,
and though Leonerin was loyal to the king until their blood
bond, he could never tell her that he always believed she had
the upper hand. Frequently, Leonerin and Rea listened to the
two bicker before their blood bonding. After? They always
understood each other. The King and Queen of Druunor
quickly became the perfect match in everyone’s eyes.

Those who resided in Morvath, Aenwood, and Druunor
had been labeled “Vetrari.” Kara and Braon led the Druunish
Vetrari with gentle and loving hands. Druunor’s lands were
rooted in the frigid mountains, and many of their powers and
“gifts” (as their King liked to call them) were normally of
frozen, icy, and cold origins. The Druunish Vetrari were home
to Leonerin, and although they changed with the war, he
always remembered the good times before it.

Druunor had been busting at the seams with villages. The
winter solstice festival was always the night in which
everyone would venture out to where the King and Queen
held court. Lanterns would lead the way from each village to
the castle. The children would paint animals on the lanterns
and walkways, symbolizing the protection of nature. Druunish
Vetrari held a respect for nature like no other kingdom, as it
was taught since birth. The animal pictures were always
unrealistic, the children just learning how to use paint. Leo
loved walking through the villages, the children chastising
him if he were to “accidentally” step on one of their
masterpieces. After jumping around to make sure he didn’t
squash their creatures, it frequently became a dance between
The Guard and his Vetrari.

Music leaked out the windows of the manor and although
most of the dancing took place inside in the warmth, Leonerin
always found himself dancing with Kara outside in the snow.
He and Kara had done that together every year. It was their
own little tradition. The two shared a love of the glittering
flakes that always fell with the tunes of the music. Thinking
now, it made so much sense that Braon and Kara’s son, the
heir, was born on the winter solstice. It was Kara’s favorite
holiday. She was never happier than on the winter solstice.
Leonerin had shared that closely with her and their mutual
love of Druunor and all things icy tied them together
throughout their companionship.

Druunor’s gracious ballroom frequently welcomed
villagers and, before the war, other courtiers from Aenwood
and Morvath. At one time, the three kingdoms got along. That
time was not now. The war had separated them.

The Realm Walker separated them.

Leonerin shook his head in the cold to get the haunting
images out of his head. The images of the Realm Walker
banishing most of the Vetrari to a place completely unknown.
A new world in which he was unable to find.

The memories of the Realm Walker always haunted him,
and although there were rumors he had come to power
through the dragons by feasting on their blood after
slaughtering their hatchlings, Leonerin tried his best to banish
those rumors from his consciousness. He refused to believe
that anyone would treat the creatures like that. He refused to
believe that the Druunish Vetrari had always lived peacefully
with the dragons and someone, some vile person that was
born into this loving culture, this beautiful part of the world,
took advantage of that. Took advantage of their kindness.
Although a long time had gone by, the memories still plagued
Leonerin nearly every minute of his life. Every time he closed
his eyes and each time they opened, he was brought right back
to that battlefield.

Opening and closing his numbing fingers into a fist, he
can almost feel the icy metal of his sword hilt in the palm of
his hand, picturing the landscape and the seemingly neverending
door to the other world. The other world that the
Vetrari just walked right into, mechanically, without thinking.
They followed right behind the Realm Walker as if he had
their hearts and loyalty all along. Although Leonerin had felt
the pull of strings anchored to his consciousness, something
kept him in Druunor that day.

He paused to remember that at least the Realm Walker
brought the three courts back together. After the war they’d
never come back to Druunor out of fear of The Separation.
Leonerin always hoped that portal would open once more, and
his family would walk right back to him.

Not the main reason for the war, the Realm Walker had
singlehandedly ended it. Leonerin could barely remember
how it all started. Maybe it was that the other lands wanted
dragons too? Maybe it was that they wanted to force Druunor
to open their gates for the coming and going of Aenwood
Vetrari and Morvathen Vetrari. The walls, the gates; it all kept
Druunor and their dragons safe. It kept the heir safe; it kept
Kara safe; it kept all the new generation safe.

One could never be too careful, or too suspicious.
“It’s done,” Borealis smiled wider if that was even
possible. “The boy, he lived.” Leonerin snapped out of his
daze, looking back at his friend. Part of him was here, at this
moment, but the other part of him was being tugged into the
direction of that day so many people left. Rea bounced back
and forth on the balls of his booted feet, barely holding in his
excitement.

“The queen?” Kara was the only one that mattered to Leo
in that moment.

The smile melted slightly from his best friend’s face as he
shook his head. It was expected. It was part of the agreement
anyway. She chose that, she wanted the baby more than
anything in the world. She wanted to be a mother so badly
that she was willing to sacrifice herself to make it happen. She
must have only gotten seconds to dream before her death.

“You didn’t come.” Rea’s tone was serious even though
his body language didn’t communicate alignment. Leonerin
dodged the question laced in the statement. He didn’t want to
think about all of the repercussions that Braon and Kara had
accepted to have an heir.

“The name?” His voice shook with the question, but he
needed a distraction. He cleared his throat to force the
emotion back. He wasn’t about to be upset by this. His loyalty
lies with the king, and he must support Braon. It was his
responsibility to do what was best for Druunor. Gods damn it,
he was going to do the best for Druunor even if it killed him
in the end. Like it was going to kill Braon.

Fuck.

Like it had killed Kara.

“Kyvranos.” The smile returned, “King Kyvranos, the
first. The name was entirely the Queen’s idea.”

“Alright, Rea,” Leonerin threw his arm around Borealis’
shoulders in forced celebration, “Let us celebrate before our
oath is set.” Indeed, they had sworn on their lives to protect
the heir, for their lives to revolve around him. Leo was to be
the second in command for the boy too. To protect Druunor
until Kyvranos could do so himself. The bars would be
bustling tonight and although Leonerin could hardly bear to
hear more about the boy, the alcohol would numb the cuts
lashing through his chest.

The king of the dragons, Nightravok, circled the castle
with what sounded like, screeches of joy. A king himself, he
celebrated the birth of the Druunish heir as if the babe was his
own. In some way, Kyvranos did belong to Nightravok. Fire
rained down with the snowflakes, the windows of the castle lit
with candles, and the light blended with the fire seamlessly.

Leonerin couldn’t differentiate the candles from the fire. He
had to admit, on the night he had been dreading for months, it
was a beautiful sight. The longest night had birthed the most
powerful king, right? The plan was perfect, the babe was
perfect, and he would reign over the kingdoms he was always
fated to. The king of Druunor was always supposed to be the
King of all, never just a Lord or a Leader.

A king. King Kyvranos. It sounded nice, didn’t it?

He wanted to be happy, but the only name on his mind
was Kara’s.

***

Within days of his entrance into the world, Druunor was
prohibited from speaking the name of the heir. Those who
were heard to speak the name were put to death immediately.
Leonerin had grown sore with how many times his sword had
pierced throats. Rea constantly complained of his shoulders
hurting from how many graves they had dug. The kingdom
believed that not only was it a curse to speak the name of the
lost, but they feared that he would never return if it was even
muttered. Leonerin was positive Kyvranos was still spoken of
behind closed doors, but there was nothing he could do about
that. He refused to become the leader who infiltrated Druunor
and obsessively controlled it from inside homes, the only safe
place the Druunish had left.

As predicted, King Braon withered away with the loss of
his mate. He lost his heir, too. If it wasn’t Kara who killed
him, it was Kyvranos. The loss of two bonded will not only
emotionally strain someone, but it will physically tear them
from the inside out. Leonerin felt the pain of Kara’s death, but
their connection hadn’t been enough to bring him with her.

With the prince missing, Leonerin and Rea swore on the
King’s deathbed to protect the kingdom and to do whatever it
costs to get Kyvranos back. Only, they never knew how.
Leonerin decided to sacrifice himself and his brother to the
world in which they feared he had been brought to, the enemy
world, the place in which he would surely die. Only
Nightravok could open the hole and cut the stitches between
the worlds for only a moment. For twenty years, Rea heard
the terror of the dragons, the mourning. But he never heard
Nightravok after he opened the door that Leonerin walked
through. It was as if that dark day was repeated all over again.
He was losing everyone again for a king he didn’t even know.

Nightravok never showed again for the twenty years Rea
obsessively watched for him. Everyone knew that where the
babe went, Nightravok was supposed to go. They were one
and the same. Bonded. Kyvranos had gone where Nightravok
wouldn’t, not until the babe knew who he was and called the
dragon on the other side of his blood bond. Nightravok was
loyal to his own before the boy, even though the blood bond
with the babe might kill him with their separation. The beast
wasn’t willing to sacrifice anything more for Druunor. He had
already lost enough.