Nectar of War: The Song of Verity and Serenity (The Nectar of War Series Book 1)

LAVEN HEPHAESTUS ARVENALDI, II

S O SHE DID POP a wing like I predicted would happen.” Amias smirks as I meet him, Roaner, and Morano in the hall. Alongside them stand Phyv and Levora.

“She did,” I say forcibly laughing before I change the subject of our conversation. “The meeting with Stravan is in almost an hour, we can have morning meal first or we can wait to dine after the meeting.”

Morano sighs. “We finally get to know who it is that has spread this infection among our people?”

“Possibly, as I mentioned before, he is not positive of this, but he has an inkling. Although,” I turn my attention to Levora and Phyv. “Stravan has sent for Greyce to attend our conference.”

“Why?” Levora worriedly asks.

“The letters are in; the other Realms are now looking for the other three of the Six of Spring.”

“It was only a matter of time.” Phyv nods.

“Will we still go back to search? Me, Phyv, and Greyce.”

“Yes, the task will be yours and we will join you if we must.”

They all nod in agreement. “Since when did Ivella have Dragons?” Amias questions with a cringe of discomfort over his face.

“No,” Morano laughs. “The question is, since when did you become a father to hellfire breathers?”

“I did not know I was their father until Stravan made it clear of how a father is chosen. It did not look like Ivella knew of that either.”

We turn toward the length of the hallway as we hear footsteps approaching. It is Ira scaling his way toward us, not a care in the world to speak.

“Ira, is it?” Amias asks.

“Yes,” he nods.

“You should tour the city with us after the conference.” I offer, but he quickly declines.

“No, thank you. I am only here to be sure my sister makes it safely to wherever it is she goes.”

“She could have walked with us.” Morano politely tells him.

By the look in Ira’s eyes, he does not show a want of anyone other than himself being around his sister. Even if she has told him we are safe for her to be around—which I am sure she has. Although, after last night, I do not think she wants to be around me just yet.

“No, I will walk with Ira, thank you.” I hear that deeply smooth voice speak.

She is dressed perfectly in black silk and lace. Half of her back is exposed as the dress falls in tiers of lace along the silk revealing one leg and is held on her shoulders by thin straps. Both Vaigon and Vorzantu are sitting on her shoulders, and quickly, they both swarm in my direction. Their growing talons nearly punctured the thick material of my topcoat.

“Ivella, dear.” Morano playfully greets. “You look stunning.”

Sarcastically, he bows to her, and she gives him a caveat glare.

“Lady Ivella.” Someone calls from a distance.

As I look, there is a messenger approaching with a small letter in his hand. His large, black wings just barely graze the floor as he approaches. After Ivella retrieves the letter, he bows his head before ascending.

Her eyes glance over the paper, and a strong appearance coated in fear floods her face.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Nothing that concerns you.”

I narrow my eyes at her as she folds the paper back up.

“I must meet Stravan and Dyena at the balcony of the Throne Room.” She announces.

“Why?” Ira asks taking the letter from her and reading over it himself.

“They wish for proof that I am truly half Fae.”

Amias’s face goes stone. “Were your ears not enough?”

“Most likely not,” Morano answers and I already see him thinking of a solution to this.

“They want to witness her bearing the wings.” Phyv says in a distant thought. “In order to be accepted, they want to see that you can properly hold yourself up while carrying the weight of wings that are hundreds of pounds.”

“Ivella,” Morano begins again. “Fabrication is what anyone could use to look like something they are not. A glamour.” He is plotting to go in front of the people as her.

“That fucking sister,” Levora scoffs. “I know it is no one but her demanding this, and I am sure she got other people of their land to demand it as well.”

“No, you will not be forced to harm yourself in front of all those people just for the satisfaction of a jealousy.” Morano shakes his head. “I will go as you, I have shapeshifted into the body a Fae once before, they would never know.”

Ivella smiles at him. “Thank you, yet I will not allow you to do that.”

“You can hurt yourself.” I finally speak.

“Truly, Ivy, this is not a good idea.” Roaner tries to convince.

“Then so be it,” she snaps, and I witness her eyes almost turn dark orange and fade back to green. Ira grabs her hand, and she lets him. “If I hurt myself, oh well. I will not be made a coward to her nor the others questioning me. Either I fall down as those wings appear or not, she will not insult my capabilities.”

The sharp points of her heels hit loudly against the floor as she pushes through us to leave, and we follow behind her.

*  *  *

The people waiting below the balcony of the Throne Room speak amongst one another quietly as Ivella stands next to Stravan and Dyena.

Dyena grabs Ivella’s hand, and I can see the silent conversation they both are having. She is reluctant to release Ivella, but she does after a smile of affirmation is given.

“How can I help her?” I ask Roaner.

“Find the will to channel your strength into her.”

I nearly look at him to question why he would suggest this, then I remember the crowd we are in front of that are not only watching Ivella, but the men behind her as well. “How could that be possible without our bond established? Do you think she will know I am doing this?”

“I am unsure, but it is worth it to take the chance and bare the wrath to come after or you let her fall.”

“Over my dead body will she fall in front of these people.” I reply.

Savarina stands far off alongside us looking directly at Ivella’s back waiting for her wings to sprawl.

At an attempt, I try to envision the crowds through her eyes.

“I do not see this wise,” Amias quickly says. “The strength she holds as a Hybrid is gravely different from ours. You could hurt yourself attempting this.”

“Then so be it.”

“No, it is not just then so be it,” Morano snaps. “If you fall out while this is happening then what? The entire continent will put us at question, but more so Ivella than us.”

“Then help me.” I suggest. “All four of us are capable to do this together if one cannot do it alone.”

My mind goes quiet, and I recognize the surge of invincibility move through me. There have been countless times that the four of us had to be strength as a whole by channeling it into one another. Now that I have the vigor, I need it to go to her, and quickly.

“Search for the bond between the both of you.” Roaner speaks. “If she holds the form of her wings, she can feel you if she recognizes it or not.”

Just as the night I had to search for her in her nightmares, it is no different than now.

That small sliver of her I can connect to, I latch onto it, placing every bit of my strength in her while my brothers hold me to the ground.

Ira is intently watching Savarina, not caring a bit if anyone sees him glaring in her direction. He is ready to lunge at her any given moment.

The beautiful wings I saw just days ago flare—white and tan feathers shake out, producing the beautiful sound that birds do as their wings move through the wind but at a much stronger force.

Stravan smiles while glancing over her and then at me. “I believe that concludes what all of you wished to see.” Stravan’s voice booms over the people and he looks over his shoulder at Savarina.

The wings recede back, leaving Ivella standing with her back bare again. I could beg to see her bearing the wings again. Hair of the night, and wings of the day—a beautiful nightmare.

Ivella turns sharply in her heels, her eyes meet Savarina’s, and without a word she starts for the doors, nearly bumping her shoulder as she walks past her.

The four of us follow behind her, and I can hear Morano mumble beneath his breath, but Amias pushes him onward. There is nothing more that needs to be said to her, she now has made a fool of herself in front of her own people for questioning Ivella, and convincing others to do so as well.

*  *  *

Stravan’s study is large enough to hold a table to fit nearly forty people, but there are only enough chairs for the fourteen of us that are needed for this conference.

His Circle is already seated, and Savarina and Sloan speak quietly amongst one another. Daevien and Dyena watch from a distant end of the table, but, be that as it may, it seems they are monitoring the conversation more than they are listening. Ivella and Ira sit near one another and the chairs alongside her are open near the head of the table.

Levora, Phyv, and Greyce take a seat first. Then, my brothers and I take to the open chairs next to Ivella.

“When you described what it was that was taking over your people,” Stravan speaks as he sits down. “I was incredulous to what you were telling me. My uncle’s closest companion was against all the Realms splitting off into their own continents when we were known as Varlesan.”

“That was centuries ago,” I say.

Daevien nods. “Yes, Stravan’s mother and father were forced into turmoil because of the choices Sythin–Stravan’s uncle–allowed Yaro to make. Yaro saw no reason for the lands to split, but only for the purpose of power. Power to rule over every Realm since he was high in House Provanseva due to a Blood Bond Ritual.”

“Like I am to Laven,” Amias says.

“Yes,” Stravan nods. “My family knew that it was logical for all the Realms to split off. Not because of differences, but it only seemed right to allow those of the same bloodlines to be able to make choices for their people that they saw fit. There were plenty of times we thought we were making proper choices for certain bloodlines, but really, we were not.” Stravan sits up straighter and holds out his hand. In his palm appears a portrait, as I read the name beneath it, it is a portrait of Yaro.

Ivella leans in, examining every curve of his face.

“Why do you think it is him trying to spread this infection among our people?” Levora asks as she takes the portrait from him.

“We think he went mad, a possible imbalance within his brain after the death of Sythin.” Sloan says. “He had this insane thought to spread this disease over the people to force them to believe they wanted to stay, that they craved to stay controlled by one leader in particular.”

Morano looks down at the portrait and back at Stravan. “He confidently verbalized this to your father?”

“No,” Stravan laughs. “I discovered it because I was the Royal Spymaster to my mother. She suspected something was off with him, although no one knew what it was, we figured it was grief as we all were grieving Sythin. So, I was sent to discover what was truly wrong. I found his journal where all of his plans were, and I delivered the journal to my mother. Then we found out that he had fled when he knew the journal was missing. No one knew where, and no one knew where to find him.”

“He abandoned us in a war he started.” Daevien says.

“The first Domestic War,” Ivella says in deep thought.

“Yes,” Daevien continues. “He tried so vigorously to keep all the lands together, that he developed a war he ran from after his thoughts were revealed.”

“Who would have thought all the lands would have to come together again to fight him off in another war he is beginning?” Amias sarcastically speaks.

“A war we are trying to avoid,” Dyena adds. “You spoke with Vallehes and Penelope of arranging a conference with all the Realms?” She asks me.

“Yes, I called the meeting between just our Circles, mine and New Quamfasi, before we arrived here yesterday.”

“Good, follow through with the universal conference, we must have this meeting soon. We cannot sit around any longer, everyone must train, and all doctors and Healers must prepare.” Dyena looks toward Ivella, and she gives her a slight nod.

“When do we expect this war to happen if it does?” Amias asks.

As General, he and Hua must be ready, as do our Mandems. This is why it was pertinent for us to instill the vigorous training we did.

“Yaro had a fascination for wars in the winter.” Savarina finally speaks.

“When will we bring the other Realms aware of this?” I ask. “It must be soon, there will be no need to wait any longer than we have to.”

Dyena and Stravan gaze at one another, weighing the options. Then they look to Ivella.

“We still have yet to tell them of my induction,” Ivella starts. “We will send word of that first, then ask for a conference here since Provas is the center of the universe.”

“We would not have to wait so long to arrange a conference if we inducted a Right Hand that was already of our continent.”

“And you will watch the snide remarks that come out of your mouth.” I accelerate my voice as I stare through Savarina.

“Sava,” Daevien grabs her arm.

“I will gladly slit her throat,” Roaner casually says down the bond.

“Since we are now allied, there will be boundaries set for respect.” I announce. Savarina goes rigid as she never lets her eyes move from my own. “I will not sit here and allow you or anyone to speak to Ivella, myself, or someone in my Circle the way you just have.”

She ascends from the table without response and Dyena looks to Daevien.

“I will speak with her,” he nods, but his expression reads tiredness.

“It should not be a problem getting Ramana on board,” Greyce speaks before this drama can carry out any further. “For those of you who I have not met, I am Greyce Rovech, first daughter and first child of General Gordyn of Ramana.”

“Lineages born with a daughter as the first child are known as the strongest lineages to live.” Stravan says with respect.

Ivella smiles. “It is nice to meet you, Greyce. I too am a daughter and first child of a General, it is not often that I meet fellow first daughters of Generals.”

“Seems as if you and I will have a great deal of talking to do after this meeting.” Greyce smirks.

Eldest daughters amongst eldest daughters. This very room is filled with power.

“Greyce, if you can speak with King Neryus about this, do you think you could get him and his House to appear at the universal conference?” I ask.

“I do, he knew of my coming here and Neryus already has some insight on what is transpiring here with the mutations. He is expecting an enquiry for a universal meeting.”

“Good,” Stravan says. “I agree that we must send word soon, just as important as it is to bring the Realms aware of the alliance they now hold with Vaigon through us.”

“That should play out rather interestingly.” Sloan laughs as he pushes a hand through his curly white hair.

“It will play out just fine,” Dyena speaks in a warning tone, and Sloan smiles. “They cannot thrive without the alliance of us, and they would not wish to break that. The Realms may know of Vaigon being under new ruling, but all may not know. Hopefully, they will be more inclined to you than they were to Lorsius.”

“We may only hope.”

“I will have messengers sent to the Realms now,” Stravan begins. “And Greyce, thank you for offering your assistance. Once we get back our responses, I will bring you aware, Laven.”

“And when I have a response from Neryus I will come back here and go to Vaigon to give Neryus’s answers.” Greyce nods.

“I think we all must be aware that there is no if when it comes to this war.” Sloan says as he leans his elbows on the table. “This war is going to happen, and it will not be for the weak to battle in–who knows what Yaro put into those mutations to enhance any abilities the people he mutated already had. We can hope to stop the war from happening, but the more we convince ourselves that this will not occur will weaken our guard. We must be ready at any given moment to fight. All Realms will now become a target after this meeting.”

“We would be foolish to believe that if he has crafted a septicity to control our kind that he is not developing another for other Realms.” Roaner adds. “His goal is full control over the world. We have seen what this mutation can do to our people firsthand.” He says motioning between our Circle and Ivella as well. “I can only imagine what he would do to someone of the Fae, or even the Hybrid Realm.”

“If he so crosses that path my father will seek him out in the war and personally kill him himself.” Greyce smiles.

Dyena warily looks up to Stravan and then toward Amias. “Would you mind training with Sloan? He is our General and all new training you have found or developed, we would like for it to be passed on to him and our Warriors.”

Amias slightly winces. “There is not much training I could pass on to him since I do not know the agility of an infected person of Fae. But I can teach him what it would be like to challenge a rogue Wolf as well as reminding you to implement the old games to discover the strongest and weakest.”

“They have an arrangement to train with my mother. They will participate in the Quamfasian Games and afterwards they will be given advanced training.” Ivella tells Sloan.

He happily gazes at her with every word she says, and I taper my eyes on him when his glance drifts to the movement of the words coming from her lips.

“I will send my own warriors as well to participate,” Sloan stands and looks to Amias. “Come, I will introduce you to my frontline.”

“If this war truly happens by the time winter comes, Vaigon and Vorzantu should be old enough to  fight.” Dyena informs Ivella. “We will be preparing Tuduran, Nara, Calypton, and Vion.”

“Would they not be too young?”

Daevien nods. “They would be, but young Dragons can fight if given the proper training and armor since their skin would not be proofed of weapons just yet.”

“We could bring them here?” I ask. “For proper training.”

“Yes,” Dyena says. “And it will be important that we use all Dragons that contain a rider.”

“Why is that?” Morano asks.

“When Yaro fled he took his Dragon and I know he will use her. Daiga is Nara’s sister and she has always been a very well trained Dragon for battle as is Nara, and I am certain that their bond will be weak when entering the battlefield. This war will be gruesome for all.”

“Are you certain they will be large enough to ride by winter? They still fit on our shoulders.”

Stravan laughs. “Believe me, they will grow before you realize it. Dragons have sporadic growth spurts and by winter they should be perfectly capable of being ridden.”

“We will bring them,” Ivella announces, although I know she does not wish to train them so early.

“And you both will learn to ride, you will use Calypton and Vion. Ivella has already met both, Laven, you can meet them later this evening.”

“As for the Six of Spring?” Levora asks.

Stravan heavily exhales. “Yes, that as well.”

“What of us?” Greyce asks.

“The other Realms have discovered our return,” Phyv informs. “They know we went missing the same day and time as the others, now that we are home, they want the others of their nation found.”

“That means we go back,” Greyce’s eyes fall.

“Only if you want to.” I say. “There are many other options we have that does not enforce you going back.”

Greyce shakes her head. “No, I will go back.”

“If it means finding people who are in need of coming home we will do whatever it takes.” Levora says.

“I can only imagine what someone of Misonva is going through in a world like the Mortal Lands. Vampires were never built to last in that universe,” Daevien counters. “Though, none of us are built to be there.”

“This search may take months if even years.” Phyv explains.

“Do you still have a home on human territory?” Ivella asks.

“We do,” Levora responds. “We have a close friend watching over our home while we are away for a supposed family emergency. If any of us go there is plenty space for us to live.”

“I may have to go with you on one of those trips.” Ivella smiles. “But however you fabricated your ears, Phyv, you will have to do it to mine.”

He laughs. “That will not be a problem.”

“We would go together,” I say and Ivella only looks at me with a gentle expression.

“So it is settled. Universal Conference is intact as well as our search for the others on the Mortal Lands.”

Dyena recalls everything.

I look around at everyone sitting at this table. Every strong and resilient being. “Welcome back to the ages of war.”