Eternal Damnation (The Amagarians 3)

The sweet, soft, whisper in his mind was a soothing balm to Lachlan’s soul. His mate’s face glowed with rich pleasure as she sampled wine from one of the merchant’s stall. They had been walking through his kingdom, at times moving to the other cities with the shadows for the last five hours. Now they strolled through the capital city of the Darkage, which buzzed with laughter and chattering as men, women, and children enjoyed the outdoors before the heralding winter.

He peered down at the delicate woman curved into his side, her eyes devouring the buildings and people as if she wanted to imprint them on her memories. He’d taken her to the great stone temples high in the mountains to watch the energy lights in the shadowed sky, then to the waterfalls of the East and West, and an underground cave which crackled and glowed with blue energy.

“While in the Empire I felt a sense of fear, even when I was simply strolling through the streets. There was always an air of menace, a sense of waiting for something terrible to happen. War has been declared, and even days later your people appear quite unconcerned with anything but the current flow of their lives.”

Lachlan allowed the history of his realm to flow along their link. The Darkage people had not been involved in the last Great War which had lasted for fifteen years, and which had claimed millions of lives. Their ruler at the time, Gidon’s father, had watched it from a distance and had not involved their realm since they owed no kingdom any alliance or allegiance.

The pain of the war, the horror of it had ridden the air and had fed many of their people who used the powers of their beasts. It was only recently, they learned some Darkans had sold their skills as death dealers during that war, creating enemies the Darkage had not known about. And the betrayal would be even greater this time. Now their own people would work alongside the Empire in the battles to come. And if Gidon called them to war, the security found in the obscurity and segregation from other kingdoms, even in a world as harsh and uncompromising as theirs, would be shattered.

The only reason a sense of normalcy lingered was that the war had not yet arrived. The kingdoms would be busy organizing warriors and food stockpiles, sending spies to infiltrate realms to uncover their weaknesses, selecting generals and captains to lead the march to war. Yet the Darkage might never show such preparations, for his King was not a man to be ruled by fear and emotion. He was cunning, smart, brutal, and would answer the call when he was ready. In that time, Lachlan must prepare his armies of the Eastern keep, while rooting out the traitors.

His mate laughed as a small, multi-colored bird flew into the palms of her hand. He could feel her resolve to leave, to rescue her people from the dangers she had left them in. With war declared, it was not in their best interest to leave his kingdom for hers, and Lachlan did not believe he had the willpower to let her go. Duty, sacrifice, death, and war were carved into his very bones, and he needed a woman who could understand him and learn to accept the darkness in him for it was forever entrenched in his soul. A Darkan female would have relished a mate such as himself and celebrated his monster and his strength.

His mate had the potential to fear him.

She smiled, and his name whispered achingly from her lips. Something hot and urgent tumbled over inside him, and he gathered her closer to his side. The heady scent of her unique flavor sent his own pulse pounding. She might not be a Darkan, but she was a fierce warrior with the same values he held about loyalty and duty. Even if she was too soft. In time, he would hone her skills until she became more ruthless, more prepared to deal with treachery and betrayal.

Lachlan halted them before a towering building made of brick and white stones. “This is our temple of Artefacts. There is also an underground tomb where all Kings and Queens are buried. Would you like to visit?”

She nodded eagerly, and he took her into the shadows, appearing on the third floor, an immense space that stretched for miles with hieroglyphics on the wall, illustrating their history. The story of the Darkan legends and birth, even though it was written in Darkanian. She traced her fingers over the symbols of their language.

“What does this say?”

“It tells the story of our first dark queen, Luna Al Venfir, believed to be a primordial goddess

for she had held within her all the beasts of the Darkans. It is said she had ten mates, one for each beast within her.”

Shilah gasped. “Ten lovers!”

“She gave birth to ten sons and five daughters, each born with only one distinct beast, and the first generations of our demon beasts were manifested.”

“I heard whispers in the Empire that once a king of the Darkage tried to bargain with the king of demons for more power.”

“That man, King Amun Al Venfir, was Luna’s husband and first love.” Tracing the symbols, he continued reading, warmth punching deep inside at her enraptured expression. “The Shadow King, Amun, was not satisfied with our piece of Amagarie. He felt the power unequaled. We had suns, we had no monsters, our people were happy, but there was a restless hunger in Amun that could not be sated. His wife, Luna, the other half of his soul was all that was sweet and beautiful, and she tried to show him their love was all they needed. He was undeterred. Amun’s search took him to the stars, and he found the realm of demons. Using magic and the shadows he made his way there and encountered such darkness and power. He was seduced…”

At his silence, she sent him a scowl and slapped his arm. “Continue,” she ordered, imperiously.

Lachlan laughed, the sound shocking him. “Evil seduced his heart.”

“What evil?” she demanded, her eyes widening.

“The king of the Demons lived in a realm of exile. Some call it Hell, others called it Hades, some purgatory, others call it the Demonage. The king was intrigued by the appearance of this man in his world when he had been bound in chains for years and unable to leave. The king promised Amun power and might, he only had to get the spell to weaken the walls of hell. Amun got it, how we do not know. Witches perhaps? Amun was so desperate, he did not once think that the Demon King was filled with treachery. The spell was cast, the sun that shone over our kingdom exploded, and chakras of the demons tried to escape their world and into ours. Dozens of beasts, hundreds legends said poured into Amun driving him mad. He fled back to our kingdom, and Luna greeted a ravaging monster. She was a light that anchored him against slaughtering his people, and when they mated and shared blood, some of the chakras within him found its way into her.”

His mate inhaled slowly, then softly expelled. “And she birthed a nation of beasts. What happened to her? Does the story say?”

He took her in his arms and shadow stepped with her to a tomb where a flawless black pearl was mounted above a beautifully carved sculpture, with surrounding images of twenty different stone beasts guarding it. “She went on to live for centuries before her death. She lies here.”

Another hour passed as he enthralled his mate with stories of his kingdom, her interest unending. He showed her the first plates his kind had used, their oldest clothes and furniture, rare paintings and sculptures by their greatest artists in history.

When she’d seen her fill, he spun with her in the shadows, taking her out into the streets. “Are you ready to return to the castle?”

“No, your world is very mountainous and teems with such wildlife. And the people, look at them,” she said wistfully, lifting her chin to two children darting away from their mother, only for her to grab them with shadows and throw them into the air. Their peals of laughter echoed in the air. “How normal everything seems. I wonder if Dxyriah currently feels peace or are they in turmoil.”

“Have you not tried to connect with any of your people?”

She darted him a quick glance. “I have tried. The distance is too great, even for my powers. I have no notion of how my people fare. It hurts somewhere deep inside that every day I am away, they might be suffering under Prince Quan’s rule.”

“Tell me about your world, my mate, and how did you end up in Amagarie?”