The Eclipsed Throne (Book 1 of Throne of Magic Series)

“Ambrose!” Aurelia gasped, catching his head before it hit the water.

She pulled desperately at her magic to surround him in warmth, his shivering only increasing in intensity as blood stained the water around them red.

Her mind felt like a scramble of words, unable to function or think. Her heart was racing as the past few moments replayed in her mind over and over. Closing her eyes, she attempted to center herself, her hands shaking with adrenaline. Her focus was the only way he would survive. Opening her eyes, she looked down at the man before her and sprung into action.

She tore at the fabric of her gown, tearing long, thick strips. Aurelia pulled them around his abdomen, tying them tight enough that the wound was completely covered in hopes to slow the bleeding. She applied pressure, emitting a low groan from Ambrose. She continued to add more layers of fabric until the blood stopped gushing into the water around them.

Taking a deep breath, she took off her heavy cloak, wrapping it around his shoulders to stop his endless shivering. Looking back at their horses, she glanced back to Ambrose’s heavy figure and winced. He was easily three times the size of her, his protruding muscles a dead weight that Aurelia could hardly carry back to the castle.

Aurelia placed her fingers in her mouth and whistled, her midnight black horse responding to her call, galloping towards them as her mind whirled with what to do.

“Ambrose,” Aurelia said, shaking him roughly. “I need you to wake up. Just enough to get on the horse.” Aurelia pulled him up to a sitting position and he moaned in pain, his face sickly pale, fading in and out of conciousness.

“Ambrose,” Aurelia repeated, a hint of desperation in her voice. “Please. Help me.” Aurelia hooked his arm around her neck, pulling him up, his breathing heavy from the exertion of balancing on his feet, leaning heavy on Aurelia.

“Aur-aur-aurelia,” He gasped, leaning into her. It was all Aurelia could do to keep them both standing. She pulled at her magic, summoning her power from the sun as she focused upon teleporting onto the horse, bringing Ambrose with her.

Despite her hesitation, it worked. In a flash of light, they were transported through space onto the horse. Aurelia maneuevered so that she was behind him as he leaned forward, keeping him upright as he faded in and out of consciousness. Her arms wrapped around him tightly and the panic returned.

Deadly poison.

If her magic didn’t work, what would? All she could do was try to ease his suffering, try to keep his heart beating. She couldn’t let him die – her only ally, the person that looked to her just as she was, not as a prophecy, or magic, or a throne to be taken. The man that had looked her as no one else had, as if he could see through her walls, see the woman she was beneath all of the complications of the magical world. Would Damaris have what was needed to offset the poison?

Yet another thought plagued her, sending a wave of nausea over her as she weighed her choices. Could she willingly return to Damaris when she was mere moments away from escaping, from returning to Calathis?

Her heart sunk as she looked down upon Ambrose’s sickly figure wrapped in her velvet cloak, her heart squeezing painfully from the sight of him. How could she walk back into Dorian’s cruel lair when they might not be able to help him?

She would lose the only ally she had within the thick castle walls and all but guarantee her eternity locked away married to Dorian.

He loved her. She couldn’t lose the man that saw through to her soul.

Nesrin’s words from what felt like ages ago reverberated through her mind like a gentle whisper from the wind.

Oh, in Ardwen, they have the strongest healing magic on the Continent.

The Elves.

It was Ambrose’s only hope.

Adrenaline coursed through Aurelia as she whipped the reins, sending the second horse galloping back up the rocky terrain into the falling snow of Damaris. Yet instead of going back to the castle they had come from, she turned their horse towards the west.

To Ardwen.

They rode the rest of the day, Aurelia’s only guide of direction the sun. She pushed the horse as fast as he could go as the sun began to set, her body tense with anxiety.

Every so often she would check Ambrose’s breathing, sending another gust of heat through his body, healing all that she could except the poison that was now enveloped in his blood. All she could do was heal the pieces it was damaging, yet as fast as she could heal him, the poison worked trifold, ravaging the inside of his body faster than Aurelia could keep up.

As the sun set in the horizon, a hint of panic hit Aurelia once more. They still hadn’t stumbled upon a path through the woods. For hours on end they had galloped through the snowy woods of Damaris. She could hardly remember the graveled pathway Ilaria had taken her unwillingly to Damaris, yet now it was her only hope. All she knew of Ardwen was of the stories.

Making it out of Damaris was one thing. Finding the hidden kingdom of the Elves was entirely another.

If she hadn’t been so sure of the direction they had been taking, she would’ve thought they’d gone in circles. For miles on end the snowy mountains and pine trees were endless, not another living being in sight. As the sun disappeared on the horizon, the temperature fell below freezing with only Aurelia’s solar magic wrapped around them to protect them. Despite her hesitations, she rode fearlessly through the night, not once loosening her grip on Ambrose.

As the sun rose in the morning, however, Aurelia felt her magic slipping away from her grasp, slowly weakening from her lack of sleep and food. She had always known that she couldn’t continue on forever, but she had hoped that they would have made it to safer ground by now.

Ambrose’s breathing became more shallow, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and Aurelia knew she needed to find food – and fast. Without her warmth, they would hardly last a day in the Damaris winter.

She urged the horse further through another path of thick pine trees and as soon as they dropped off into hills and valleys blanketed in snow, Aurelia looked desperately for the highest vantage point. The only way they would find any village that granted safety and food would be from somewhere that she could see miles in each direction.

Her only option was a small hill that offered little in looking across the land before them, but Aurelia tried anyway, sending another pulse of warmth into Ambrose as she leaned him against the horse’s mane, gently slid off of the horse. The sun had just begin to rise, marking hours on end on horseback. Aurelia winced as she hobbled towards the peak of the hill, blinking from the blinding sun in attempt to find something, anything, that could help them.

There was nothing to see – just trees and white blending into the horizon before her.

Please, she thought desperately. He won’t last much longer. Her legs were covered in mud that they had rode through and the cold had begun to seep into her bones, unable to be stopped from her magic any longer. All of her energy went towards keeping Ambrose alive, his heart weakly beating in his chest.

She slowly circled around the hill and there very far, in the distance, her eyes caught movement. At the very far edge, in the opposite direction she wanted to go, was smoke.

Smoke – a sign of life. Yet Aurelia hesitated nonetheless. Looking back at Ambrose and his pale complexion, she knew it was his only chance, albeit not a very good one. Anywhere in Damaris ran the risk of them being forced back to the castle – where she knew Dorian would do next to nothing to help his brother, and he would die at the hands of a cruel, cruel king.

She returned to the horse, hopping up behind Ambrose, her muscles groaning in protest. Aurelia urged the horse forward as they took off towards the smoke, their only chance before they continued to Ardwen.

As they rode towards the smoke, signs of living beings began to pop up, a stark contrast to the wintery landscape they had been riding through for hours on end.

Stumps of trees littered the woods around them and she could vaguely hear voices on the wind. Aurelia pulled on the reins, slowing the horse down to a trot as the woods suddenly widened to drop them onto one of the well-trodden paths.

Turning them onto it, Aurelia’s heart panged with worry for Ambrose, his survival relying on borrowed time. She pushed the horse to go faster until they were arrived at a hill overlooking a village below them.

It wasn’t much – after all, it was in the middle of the worst of the Damaris land blanketed with the heaviest snow and unrelenting cold. The wooden buildings that lined the main street were built in the classic Damaris style, made of dark wood and fashioned in tall, rigid buildings. Torches hung outside despite the snow, illuminating the wood in the falling snow.

The buildings towered around the main street but didn’t extend far out. The village was much smaller than the capital, but lively nonetheless, with a small manor at the far end of the village where the lord and lady of the town resided.

Where the capital of Damaris was along the cliffs and ocean, it felt as if this village was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by snow and ice. The townsfolk, despite the winter chill, were out and about, busily chattering and – oh, she could smell food.

Aurelia’s stomach grumbled in desperation and she looked worriedly over at Ambrose. He was breathing, but she had no idea for how much longer. She was banking everything on hope, on the love she had for the man she was so desperate to save.

Aurelia nervously glanced around the main square before deciding to trot down one of the side streets in hopes that they would avoid unwanted attention. Her mind returned to the gala in which Dorian had executed all of the lords and ladies that had been working against Damaris. She highly doubted the lord that resided here would be an ally to Calathis any longer.

They trotted until Aurelia’s eyes caught a small sign for a pub, advertising freshly brewed vodka and hot food. If there was one thing Aurelia was sure of, it was that the type of people that ventured into pubs were those that didn’t want to be found – and that was exactly the place Aurelia needed.

She streered the horse into an empty alleyway and hopped off, using the last pieces of her magic to change her hair from its signature auburn to a blonde. It was all she had left before she gathered more energy – and glancing at Ambrose, he would not fare well without her magical warmth.

She pulled him off of the horse and set him against the alley wall. She manuevered her heavy cloak to wrap around him, both preserving his warmth and hiding his wound so that if anyone wandered by, it looked as if he had fallen asleep – and near the pub, presumably from drinking too much. It wasn’t her ideal option to leave him alone, unguarded, but it was her only option. They needed food before she could even think about anything else.

The streets surrounding them were, to Aurelia’s relief, empty, and with reluctance, she stood from Ambrose, making her way out of the alley. She glanced each way before scurrying off into the main street of the village, ducking into the pub. Though a day ago her clothes might’ve attracted some attention, the dirt and mud from traveling had dulled the luxurious fabric and she fit in quite well with the villagers within.

Standing tall, she marched to the bar and ordered whatever food they had, making sure to get enough for their journey that laid ahead.

The bartender looked at her slim figure skeptically before opening his palm that was coated in dirt, his eyes expectant. “What, ye lookin for free food?” He asked gruffly, and Aurelia, who had not once had a single coin to her name in this world, unfastened the earrings from her ears and dropped them into his palm.

“Do we have a problem?” She asked coldly, holding her head high. “I’m sure those are worth much more than whatever you’re serving here.”

The bartender looked back at her for a moment, his eyes calculating the risk of accepting wherever she had gotten such expensive jewels. She was sure that she looked more of a thief than a fine lady with the hours she had been riding, her hair in tangles.

“Fine. Yer food’ll be out in a bit,” He told her, his palm closing around the ruby earrings as he motioned to the stools and tables scattered throughout the room.

“Very well,” Aurelia said haughtily, moving towards the corner of the bar where she could observe everyone around her. She huddled against the wall, hiding as much of herself as she could, her foot tapping impatiently against the wooden floor.

Every second was another moment Ambrose was alone and unprotected outdoors. There was nothing more she could do, she reminded herself, her fingers returning to the pendant around her neck. All she could do now was hope for the best and make it to Ardwen before it was too late. How long did it take poison to kill someone, anyway?

Her eyes caught upon the golden ring that rested upon her left hand, a gentle reminder of the man she was running to escape. A shiver snaked up her spine as she realized the danger the two of them were in – not just from the poison, but from the wrath of the Damaris king. They had been gone for hours on end, disappearing without a trace.

Aurelia had made sure every stop to wipe away their tracks with her magic, unrelenting in her determination. She rested in that thought for a shred of relief before her thoughts were interrupted by the doors of the pub swinging open.

Two people, both dressed in extravagant attire, swept into the pub, the casual conversation falling silent as everyone turned to observe them. Aurelia turned sharply to hide her face, glancing out of the corner of her eye at the two individuals dripping of wealth. It was clear the people around her, covered in dirt and in clothes with patches, were disgruntled by the show of extravagant attire, but it was then that something clicked in her mind.

The brooch on the manly figure’s cloak – a sign of affluent wealth, of royal blood. But not just any, for it was too familiar for it to be a stranger. Her blood turned to ice as fear swept through her veins, urging her to disappear from view.

Scooting farther back into the corner and hidden by the darkness, she watched as he dropped his black cloak to reveal himself – the king of Damaris, far from his castle, acting like a commoner in a lowly pub.

Dorian.

A wave of panic overcame her despite knowing her identity was hidden by her magic and the dirt that encased her body.

The crown he always adorned was gone, his clothes much simpler than usual. The woman sitting across from him was familiar – yet Aurelia couldn’t remember from where, her brain too exhausted to try to place her face and long raven hair.

Her dark hair and purple cloak was magnificent, and unlike Dorian, she did nothing to hide her status in society, instead motioning to the bartender as if they were the most important people in the room.

They talked animatedly with each other, unbothered by all the others, clearly discussing the most serious of matters. Aurelia’s heart quickened as she tried to think of what they could possibly be needing to talk about so secretly.

What was Dorian doing out here?

Her stomach twisted.