"No action is without chilling grief. For this the gods have spun out for wretched mortals the fate of living in distress."

—From the Iliad,
By Homer

ATLA CITADEL,
ATLA
YEAR 1675

KAIDEN THORNE WOULD be glad to be back from Mordania. The air there was too cold, too thin, making every breath a struggle for someone who already had weak lungs. Not that he would ever admit it to his father, who marched ahead through the snow as if he had been born in it. Who walked steadily in front of his son who trudged reluctantly through the snow, watching as Holly warmed herself with her fire magic.

"Are you sure you don't want—" she asked for the thousandth time before he cut her off.

"Holly, it's fine." He was lying, of course. But the last time he had asked his best friend for help with anything, his father had wanted him against accepting help from a girl. What he wouldn't give to have her magic himself. Instead of lighting things in flames, all he could do was make stupid plants grow. The Browns all possessed fire magic and their motto was, I am untameable. The Thornes have plant magic and theirs was the more boring, What is growing will never die. "I'm not that cold."

She eyed him warily but didn't say anything, just holding out her hands and steadily melting the snow in front of them to reveal brown dirt. Where his feet landed, patches of grass were left behind. It was yet another thing that made the band of travellers so suspicious.

"Do walk faster, Kaiden." His father's voice matched the climate surrounding them. Cold, dead and lifeless. "We will be late to witness the invasion."

Ah yes, that was the reason they were marching out here in the middle of winter. To watch his father engineer the takeover of Mordania by Ilyas Durand, his ally. Though Kaiden knew his father had his own plans to eventually see Mordania taken over by himself, not just by his ally.

"Then why did you not lead your own army?" Kaiden muttered, rubbing his gloved hands together. Amidst the white snowdrifts, he could see the dark masses of soldiers gathering outside a fortress-like structure now.

"Do you care to repeat yourself, Kaiden?" His father asked, stopping so abruptly that Kaiden almost bumped into his leather-covered back.

"No, sir." Kaiden kept his posture ramrod straight, lifting his chin up and staring straight ahead. Perhaps his father did not require any soldiers because he had done his best to make Kaiden into one. "I would not."

"Very well. I shall let that go, but only because we are very near the castle."

They walked in a tense silence the rest of the way—up the drawbridge, past the frozen moat, and into the castle gates. Almost as if someone had been waiting for their arrival. Kaiden and his father were given the prime position at the front of the army, and then, all hell broke loose.

Flames danced in the air, floods broke loose and battered down the doors, vines twined around rusted beams and pulled them down with force. They entered what appeared to be a throne room, though it was much starker than the one back in Atla Citadel. This one had stone walls, metallic floors, and a simple platform in its middle. Embroidered tapestries with the royal colours, red and black, hung on the walls, as well as crests of each noble house. He didn't have time to focus on that, however, as he listened to the audible screams. He caught sight of a dark-haired girl in a red dress, running away from the dais at the centre of the room. It must have been the queen.

He nudged his father who looked down at his son with a deep sigh. "Yes, Kaiden?"

"The queen," he said. "Are we not here to kill her?"

He watched as an older woman in a red gown was fighting off three soldiers at once, with metal and with blood magic. He had to look away as she crushed their skulls without even touching them. She was surrounded by chaos and corpses.

"Jovana Dusang?" His father asked. "No, quite the opposite."

Kaiden frowned. What was the purpose of their invasion, then? "Do you mean to tell me that we are here to save her life?"

"We cannot ruin her life if she is not alive," was all that his father said before he dove into battle.

///

YEAR 1690

ATLA CITADEL,

ATLA

His nape beaded with sweat as he shrugged off his Mordanian-made leathers and furs, discarding them onto the brightly tiled floors. Arched windows with billowing white curtains surrounded his chambers, the sunlight pouring in and kissing his bared skin. Kaiden slipped into a pair of brown trousers and a simple white linen shirt with the green Thorne crest embossed on it in silk thread.

One sound alerted him to the other person in his room, and he spun around quickly, only to relax when he saw that it was Holly. Her brown skin glowed in the Atlan sun; she looked like a queen outlined in gold. All that was missing was a crown. She belonged here, in Atla, with him. They belonged with each other. He said none of that, however, as he stood there, leaning against his bedpost, raking his green gaze over her.

"Look what the cat dragged in," Kaiden murmured. Her clothes were dishevelled from the long journey and her gold-tipped braids were coming undone. A smear of dirt streaked her face.

Lacing up the bodice of her blouse, she frowned at him. "Forgive me if my area of concentration was not on my appearance today."

"You were concentrating on...?" he let his voice trail off, wanting her to fill in the blank. Kaiden trailed his hand over the flowers and vines carved into his bedpost but kept his gaze on Holly.

Curls of hair escaped her braids and framed her face. She sighed. "What happened between us. In Mordania. What was that? You thought I was going to die, so you fucked me? What... was that some sort of pity fuck? Because I don't need your pity--"

One swift step had him across the room and had her in his arms in seconds. He pulled her into his chest. "Did it feel like pity to you?"

Slowly, looking up at him with lips parted, she shook her head. He could smell her familiar scent: flowers, citrus, something musky. "Kaiden..."

"There you are!" His mother's voice rang through the room. "My dear son."

Holly pushed out of his arms, her hand on her belt, which hung heavy with its intricately crafted daggers, of Mordanian make. He had gotten them for her, a dangerous souvenir of sorts from their near brush with death. It touched him to see her wearing them, though he knew it was likely because she preferred to be well-protected, not because of any sentiments the blades held.

"I have missed you so." Nadia Thorne breezed into the room in a loosely tied white gown that contrasted with her golden skin, a smidgen lighter than Holly's complexion. "Good afternoon, Lady Holly."

Holly curtseyed to his mother, though she had offered him no such pleasantry. He didn't mind the informality, but his mother was a stickler for manners. "Your Majesty."

"I trust that your trip was uneventful," his mother said, her voice suggesting there would be hell to pay if otherwise. "I'm sure you were in good hands with Holly, of course."

In more ways than one. He was certain that she blushed at the insinuations of that phrase but he dared not look.

"Of course," he said jovially. "Not more than one or two scrapes with disaster."

Nadia laughed. "I would hope that you are joking. My son, the jester. Both of you come along, now. It is nearly time for the royal address."

"Yes, mother." He interlaced his fingers with Holly's when his mother's back was turned. She bit her lip, straightened her spine and went along with him.

This royal address would host a variety of fascinating people and contain an abundance of information pertinent to the upcoming trials. Every three generations, the Atlan noble families would decide who should be ruler based on the strength of their magic. There were the houses of Thorne, Brown, Brook, and Kirk. Thorne was the current ruler, with plant-based magic, but that was subject to change based on the strength of their magic. The house of Brown had fire magic, Brook water magic, and Kirk magic of the earth: stone, precious jewels, and everything else that lay beneath the earth's surface.

"Are you looking forward to seeing your old flame?" Kaiden teased, leaning down to whisper into Holly's ear as they followed his mother down a long hallway that was actually a bridge between the tower that held the royal residence and the tower where public meetings were conducted. It was lined with arched windows that gave views of the pavilions, courtyards, and gardens below.

She rolled her eyes, one hand gripping a dagger hilt. "Kaiden, I never want to hear anyone mention the name of Adrien Brook again."

Kaiden raised both eyebrows. At least his slight tinge of jealousy was unwarranted toward the man—boy, really—who had once pursued Holly five years ago. "He is unlikely to be present."

"Why, because he shall be drinking and gambling the day away?" Holly retorted. She brushed at a flower petal that had drifted onto the bridge and tried to get it out of her hair. He plucked it out with his fingers and before she could thank him, tucked it behind her ear. She gave him a begrudging smile. "Just because he was a waster does not negate that he is also his father's only child and the heir presumptive for the Brook lineage. He does also have fairly good command of his powers."

"Yes, I remember that well enough," Kaiden grumbled. One time, Adrien Brook had overturned a pitcher of water onto Kaiden's head without lifting a finger. "I don't know how good of a king he would be, however."

He ran through all the heirs and heiresses presumptive to every noble house in his mind. Holly was his guard because they were best friends but also because her birth made her too distant from the main, highest branch of the Brown family. Otherwise, she would also have been in the running.

"Well, there are three months left. He could have plenty of time to clean up his act," Holly said. "And, I wouldn't rule out the Kirks."

"Why, because Liane Kirk is so skilled a jeweller?" he asked, thinking of the raven-haired heiress with deep brown eyes, who manipulated jewels and metals as easily as most people changed clothes. "You have yet to mention your own house."

He saw her throat bob as she swallowed. If the Browns were to become the ruling family, she would then have to step down from her position as guard to truly live a life as a noble lady. He wanted to marry her now, but Atlan rulers always married foreigners so that no alliances between two houses would become too strong and over balance another.

"Whatever happens to Cordelia, I am sure she shall handle it with grace," Holly said, referring to her cousin, who was the heiress presumptive for the House of Brown.

"Agreed." Kaiden senses that she did not want to think of the future, of how uncertain their fates were, how readily they could be pulled away from one another by the tides of politics.

She dropped his hand when they reached the dais with two thrones, one for his mother and one for himself. His father had passed five years ago, good riddance to him, and crowned him king. But in reality, as he gazed out at the cheering crowd, she was the one who ran the kingdom with an iron fist. Nadia Thorne should be the one who had to face these problems with who to marry and how to rule. Not him.

He knew he sounded like a child. Yet he also knew that all he wanted was constantly out of his reach.

"Greetings, Atla." He saw the noble houses gathered closest to the dais. "Is the house of Brown here?"

A whoop. Then they chanted their house words, Holly mouthing along at his side: I am untameable.

The House of Kirk: Together, we remain unbreakable.

The House of Brook: what is unknown cannot be destroyed. It suited their unpredictability.

Finally, the ruling house's words: What is growing can never die.

He looked over at his side, a quick glance at Holly, and hoped it was true.