Chapter 1

The Thorn King sat before his subjects on his throne of oak. It was not the polished, beautiful ornament that any other king would sit upon. The wood was raw and untreated. Mould crept up the legs of the throne, displaying its age and decay to anyone who saw it. The throne, like the pews in the court, was aged worn and decaying. The Thorn King had obtained many splinters over the years and he expected to get many more.

The court room, like the furniture, was falling apart. The bricked walls were caked with moss and the damp stench filled the nostrils of anyone foolish enough to enter. Ivy grew through the smashed windows, the vines twisting and turning into intangible knots and blocking out what little daylight Thornacre dwelled in. The sun shone through the holes in the ceiling instead. The King had hired magicians to put a spell over them so that the rain would not pour in, but they never showed. Nobody went near the Kingdom of Thorns if they could help it.

The King’s subjects were few; they were outcasts who had been banished from the Kingdom of Darkwell and condemned to live out the rest of their lives among filth and ruin. Barely anyone had bothered to turn up to the King’s council that morning, many had grown tired of meetings like these but the few that came were the ones who were intrigued to see if this time would turn out differently.

They were gathered inside the Thorn Court to await the arrival a young Prince from the Kingdom of Spinosa, a neighbouring kingdom that bordered Thornacre. It was not the first time that a handsome Prince from an allied kingdom had been summoned to the Thorn Court; it was no secret that the King was looking for a suitor for his eldest daughter, there were many rumours about why this was, but he had not announced that he wished to step down.

The Thorn King had three daughters. His eldest was Aynia, the moon goddess with the power to bring life and fertility to the land.  Grainne, the winter goddess, was the middle child and his youngest was Fenne the goddess of summer who ruled over the sun and fire.

Their mother had died many years ago and ever since then the King’s relationship with his only children had grown distant. Their bond had only grown weaker when they were all banished to the Kingdom of Thornacre and he was condemned to rule over other banished citizens.

The King never wanted to rule over the forsaken Kingdom any longer but his crown could only be passed onto a male heir, a rather cruel addition to his unending curse. His banishers knew he had no sons and they knew that after the incident he was unlikely to obtain a wife in order to have one. This saddened the King, for no longer wished to bear the crown of thorns of which he was forced to wear as part of his punishment. Their spiked ends were forever digging into his skin and opening old wounds. He had had enough of the pain.

He was crowned with the vicious thorns when he had been tasked with the duty of ruling over a land of filth and ruin. Every day he had to place the spiked artefact upon his head and spend the say ruling in the pain that was a constant reminder of the sin he had committed to earn him his place on the throne to rule over a land that was so cut off from the rest, a Kingdom that was whispered about in tones of fear and dread. The King and his daughters had been the first to be banished to the land and unfortunately for him, they would not be the last.

The Prince’s name was Aulom. He was young, agile and a quick-thinker, someone the King could grow to trust with running his Kingdom. Though the King despised the place, he did not want his reign to be succeeded by a man unfit to rule a Kingdom. Prince Aulom was the elder of King Elodin and Queen Fianna’s two sons which made him the Crown Prince of Spinosa so he already had the education on what it is to rule. The King, though distant with most people, was fond of Prince Aulom’s parents and they were more than eager to prove that their sonwas not only worthy of ruling a Kingdom but worthy of a goddess’ heart.

However, it was not as easy as that. Aynia had no intention on marrying anybody, especially not the princes the King had picked out for her. The previous suitors for Thornacre’s Princess had all returned to court either brutally injured or did not return at all after meeting Aynia. Both the King and his subjects waited in anticipation to see if Prince Aulom would return in one piece after his first meeting with his potential bride.

As the old, heavy doors opened, the Thorn King leant forward in his throne with his elbows on his knees. He watched keenly as his guards marched Prince Aulom down the aisle. The King’s green eyes narrowed, Aulom had a blooded hand clamped over the left side of his head. Aynia was nowhere to be seen and the King felt a pang of annoyance but kept it hidden as Prince Aulom knelt before the throne, his head bent down in respect for the King but also pain. The King’s subjects mimicked the position of their leader, leaning forwards in their seats to get a better view of the man who was to be betrothed to their eldest Princess.

Prince Aulom was a contrast to their King, his skin was golden brown and he had dark hair which often spilled into his dark brown eyes; it was startling to see him in the same room as their King, whose hair and skin were the same colour as white roses and his irises the colour of the thorns of which his crown was made. The King kept his expression vacant yet interested. He knew if he frowned in confusion, the movement of his skin would cause the thorns to dig deeper into his forehead and make him bleed. He had had years of practice, the entirety of immortality to perfect the art of keeping his face unreadable; all for the avoidance of pain.

Many he knew longed for his unwavering youth, they saw it as a gift and a mark of supremacy; the King, however, saw it as a curse. It was a curse, before he had been banished his life had been prolonged by a magician, he would never age and never die. He longed to be cut free from the chains which bound him to this torture. Only when a new King was crowned would he would finally get his wish.

“What happened?” The King’s voice was as soft as a whisper yet still seemed to echo around the crumbling walls. Prince Aulom kept his head bent and lowered his bloodied hand to reveal patches of bloody flesh underneath. The bottom of his earlobe was recognisable, but a considerable chunk had been taken out of it, as if his ear had been bitten off by a savage animal. But the King knew better than that. “Who did this to you?” The King enquired. The Prince stole a glance up at his King, his lips curling into a slight smirk

“Who do you think?” He asked sarcastically “Your daughter. Aynia”

If the King’s white skin could become any paler, it did in that moment.

 

****

 

    Aynia discarded the lump of bloody flesh into a row of hedges on her way to a hill on the outskirts of the town. It stood solitary and beautiful against the sky; there was a lake at the top where she cleansed her hands of Aulom’s blood in the cold water. The hill was erected for her to go when she wished to be alone; it had even been named Cnoc Aynia, ‘Aynia’s Hill’.

Aynia dried her hands off on the skirts of her dress and let out a sorrowful, deflated sigh. She was sick of her father finding suitors for her. She was, after all, not just a moon goddess but also the goddess of love yet she felt nothing for the suitors her father had picked out for her. She knew the Thorn King would be angry with her upon her return, but she did not bite off Aulom’s ear unprovoked.

 She wished her sisters were with her " or at least her mother, so she could tell them of the pain he inflicted on her. But her sisters were at the palace and her mother had ended her own life after discovering that her husband had taken a lover. Aynia had not quite forgiven him for the sin he committed. Nor did she forgive the fact that in doing so they were all banished from their beautiful home of Darkwell, away from their friends and family, to this wretched place to rule over a kingdom of filth and ruin with his daughters rather than be a king of the land he was entitled to.

     The sun was setting in the horizon, highlighting the leaves of the trees and making them glisten like stars. It was not the beautiful sunset of Darkwell that she had grown up with; it was dull and brought with it the dull light that made the branches of the trees even more terrifying. Aynia sat down at the edge of the lake, wrapping her green cloak of velvet around her both as a way to warm her up and a source of protection. She did not wish to expose any part of herself to passers-by and be recognised. Thornacre was not a safe place to be at night and even though she was a princess, she still did not wish to be seen. Many would have heard her screams earlier and others would report her whereabouts to their king.

Aynia looked into the water at her reflection. Her red-brown curls spilled over her shoulders as she bent down to scoop some of the water into her hand and wipe the few specks of Aulom’s blood from her mouth. She had deep brown eyes, so much darker than the plant-green colour of her father’s. She had often been told how alike she and her mother looked; she knew this, of course. Fenne looked like her mother too; she had the same dark curls and eyes. Grainne had the dark eyes of her two sisters and mother but her hair was white like her father’s.

Aynia still wore around her head her mother’s crown made from stardust which glistened in the moonlight as she had promised to wear it every day. Her mother had made her swear this before she had ended her life. Anyia was not present at the time her mother died, but she had cried for a week afterwards. Her father had not even tried to console her and it angered her that he did not seem to mourn the loss of his own wife. It had been several years since her mother died but the pain never fully subsided. It would not be long until the next full moon, she could not wait to ride out on her horse with her sisters and gaze upon its beauty. She and her sister were both Lunar goddesses and they felt so much stronger under the glow of the full moon.

     The lake was a peaceful place that Aynia resorted to when she was scared and needed peace and tranquillity which was almost all the time since she had arrived in Thornacre. The place put her on edge and not without good reason. It was a dark, dangerous place for a young woman to be, which is what it was created for. Nobody lived there before they came along but subsequently more and more dodgy characters had arrived and it was not a safe place to be alone. But nobody came to her hill, she was sure of that, the King had at least granted her this wish.

All that could be heard were the beating of the tiny wings of insects, the soft rustling of the leaves and grass in the breeze and the occasional hum of grasshoppers but Aynia did not mind, she loved to hear the sound of life, silence made her feel on edge. She could create life after all, why should she not wish to hear it?

Her sisters had always called Aynia the ‘Special One’ after she had discovered that she was gifted with the ability to bring life. She had inherited this from her mother and so her sisters considered her to be the Queen’s favourite. This was not true, of course. Her gift was not as pleasant as it sounded. She could not only bring life but she also had to lead dying souls to the Otherworld, it was a much harder task than she had once thought. With every death, Aynia used to wonder what the point of bringing life was if it ended so quickly, but then she realised that the very thing that made the gift of life so special is that it doesn’t last and she loved to watch what mortals did to make their limited lives worthwhile.

    Turning to her left side, Aynia reached out her hand and placed it on the patch of the dying, prickly grass next to her and smiled at the feeling of the powerful magic coursing through her veins. She was eager to bring life back to the land. She closed her eyes for a moment, thinking of what it is to be alive, what it is to feel the sun on one’s face and the crowds of emotions that surround it. She could hear the hum of her magic in her veins as it rushed to her fingertips that were now tingling with power. When she drew her hand away, the grass was alive once more and dotted with daisies. The dark made the grass look night-sky blue and the flowers seemed to glow like stars in the moonlight. Aynia smiled as lay back into the lusciously soft grass and watched the flowers grow.

 

****

   “And she just bit your ear off?” The King’s face loomed over Aulom’s, his eyes seeming to see right through him. The throne room was usually a calm place but the tension between the Thorn King and the young Prince could be felt throughout the room as they stared at each other. The muscle in the Thorn King’s jaw was jittering as he looked down at Aulom who was still on his knees with his head bent. The pain Aynia had inflicted was throbbing through the entirety of Aulom’s head and he had to try extremely hard not to show pain in front of the man who wanted him to be his successor. Despite getting significantly paler, the King did not look surprised that Aynia had done such a thing, it made Aulom wonder if she had done these kinds of things before. He had heard stories of Anyia’s suitors but had taken no notice until now, had they all suffered the same fate? Now that he had met Aynia, he would not be surprised if they had.

“Yes, Sire.” Aulom replied, mastering control over his voice so the pain would not taint it. His father had taught him not to show any weakness and after years of practicing it, he had now mastered the art. The King tilted his head to look at the bloody mess that used to be Aulom’s ear before returning his gaze back to his eyes. Aulom had not seen the damage yet, but he could guess how gruesome it must be.

“And where is Aynia now?” The King enquired

“I do not know, Sire” Aulom replied, forcing himself to make eye contact. His stare put him off, his eyes were filled with secrets and years of pain and he was so very good at detecting lies.

“You don’t know?” The King asked, narrowing his eyes. Aulom could feel his heart pounding in his chest, he hoped it would look like he was suffering from pain rather than lying to a King.

“No, Sire. I ran” He admitted. His mother once told him that the trick about lying is to mix in a little of the truth to make it believable. The King frowned causing the thorns to tear through his skin and little beads of blood appeared over his brow where the thorns encircled his head. He did not seem to notice when the drops of scarlet dribbled down his face or if he did he was trying hard to ignore it. Aulom tried equally as hard not to bite his lip as he did when he was nervous

“You ran?” The King asked in disbelief. “My goodness, you let a young girl get the better of an aspiring king? One that hopes to rule my Kingdom?” The King’s eyes seemed to mock him, as if he was hiding something that Aulom did not know

“Well, she did bite me, my Lord” Aulom replied. The King leaned back in his throne; his face was streaked with drying blood now

“How do I know that she was unprovoked?” He enquired. Aulom remained silent for a while, summoning the skill he would need to convince the King that Aynia was not fit to marry him, that she was insane and bit his ear off after he proposed. This of course was not true, but he was not about to admit what really happened for he knew he would be killed on the spot. Prince or not, the king was protective over his daughters and clever enough to invent a cause for his death to report back to the King and Queen of Spinosa. When he was ready, Aulom lifted his gaze to meet the King’s and recited the story he’d been practicing in his head.

“It was unprovoked, my King. I proposed to Aynia this evening and she lost all control of her senses, she said I was conspiring against you and by marrying her I would be entitled to the throne. She said I was unworthy of such a title, she said you were the greatest King Thornacre has ever known. She thought I was going to kill you, your Majesty, you clearly have not told her that you want_”

“Enough!” The King raised his voice, loud enough to wake a sleeping man sat in the back pew who woke with a splutter, blinking back sleep as he looked around the hall in bewilderment. Aulom fought back a smirk. The King had told him the real reason for wanting an heir. Not because he thought he was going to die, but because he had grown weary and could not bear the pain any longer. However, he had not told his subjects, a good King never reveals his weakness to his public. Nor, as it turned out, his daughters “Provoked or not, she is at least right about one thing” The King lowered his voice now to an almost whisper

“What is that, my King?” Aulom asked him

“You’re not fit to be a King, not with that ear missing. The Law states that the King must be unscathed, young and perfect. You, good sir, are neither unscathed nor perfect. You are not to see my daughter again. Take him away” Before Aulom could retaliate; two burly guards hauled him to his feet and dragged him out of the court room for the last time.

 

 

Reviews

[Tbear]

I have added your work to my library in order to come back to it. Havent the concentration right now to read all the way through but I do like what I have read so far. Keep going dear one..lets write ..right to the end :)

[E Hartfallow]

Thank you for the kind words, I hope you like it! :-)

[Tbear]

I do I do and I will I will :)