Tristan's Arc

Chapter 1 of 5

Tristan turned twenty-two in three days, and the men who murdered his father wanted him dead before then. He knew this because the elf elder said it plainly, across the table, in the glowing heart of the high elf palace where Tristan and his sister had hidden for a year. Tristan had come here to grow strong enough to take back the dragon throne stolen from his bloodline. His coming-of-age ceremony would prove his claim. Now the throne knew where he slept. "Word reached the capital," the elder said. His hands lay flat on the wood. "They know the prince and princess live here. They know the dragons roost in our spires. This palace shelters a war it did not start." Elizabeth sat straight in her red gown, her braid over one shoulder. She was Tristan's older sister, and she had raised him since their parents fell. "You invited us," she said. "You cannot unsay it now." "I fear for my people," the elder answered. "If the throne marches, my spires burn. Perhaps you should leave before the ceremony." The table erupted. Two elves rose at once. Faelynn shoved her chair back and slapped her bow across the table. The quiver on her back rattled. "Leave? He turns of age in three days. Send him out now and you send him to the grave." Her red hair, tied high, swung as she leaned in. "I will stand on the wall myself. Let them come." Beside her, Ashton lifted one hand, and blue light gathered at his fingertips. "So will I." His voice stayed level, but the light said the rest. "We knew the risk when we took them in. I have not changed my mind. Have you?" The elder looked at the two elves, then at the glow above Ashton's palm. He said nothing. In the corner, Mara Nightshade watched. She had not spoken all night. Her long braids fell over a purple coat marked with faded symbols. She turned a dark stone over in her fingers, slow and steady, her eyes moving from face to face. Tristan felt her gaze settle on him. It weighed him like a scale. Tristan stood. The arguing stopped. "No one leaves," he said. "Running proves I am not fit to rule. I stay. I take the ceremony here, in three days, in front of everyone." He met the elder's eyes. "If the throne wants to find me, let them. I would rather they knew my face than my back." Elizabeth reached for his hand under the table and gripped it hard. The elder bowed his head at last. "Then I will ready the walls," he said. "But understand this. The moment you claim your name aloud, they will send an army to silence it." Mara Nightshade slipped the stone into her pocket and finally rose. "Good," she said. "Then we have three days to make sure it survives."