Tag: highfantasy

Work-In-Progress Wednesdays #16

Ariel Paiement

This week, I have an excerpt from my newest work-in-progress to share. Trader Prince of Aleshtain is the second book in the Legends of Alcardia series. It follows the story of Captain Dhiabhan, who was introduced in Bane of Ashkarith. This is from the opening scene of the book.

~~~

Eras tried not to toy with the hem of his tunic while he waited for the day’s events to begin. Why had he come to court today, again? Right. His father had insisted. He shot his father a hard glare from where he stood behind the throne. Didn’t even have the decency to have a chair, let alone a proper throne, erected for his heir. His scowl deepened, and his gut clenched. Worse still, he was here just so he could watch the slave masters parade their newest wares about for his father.
Anything for Rabhor Thilain.

His stomach flipped. Which unlucky girl would end up in his father’s harem this afternoon? He closed his eyes, swallowing back bile. He just hoped it would be over soon. The five minutes they’d been waiting stretched out until it felt like twenty. How much longer until he could be done with this? Sweat trickled down his back, and he glanced at his father.

The doors finally swung open just as he couldn’t take any more. The page strode in and bowed stiffly. Eras eyed the man’s ballooning pants and striped shoes. The newest fashion in court? Ridiculous as usual.

“My liege, the merchants have brought their wares for your examination.” The page stepped to the side and nodded to the men waiting a few feet down the hall.

They made it sound so benign. As if they weren’t trafficking humans. They used nice, pretty words to hide the ugly, vicious truth. Typical. His attention fixed on the slaves being prodded into the room. He let his gaze wander over the row of women. His eyes snagged on the last woman in line. Two guards flanked her, holding her arms and dragging her in. The others before her had walked in placidly, their heads down and shoulders slumped.

But not this one. Each step, she took was controlled and tightly contained as if she would burst into flight at any moment. She walked between her captors with her head held high, a glower on her pretty features. It was as if she was born a goddess and was disgusted by the banality of the humans beneath her. That made him snicker. Maybe he should take up poetry.

His father glared at him, and he sobered, returning his focus to the line of slaves. He shifted from one foot to the other. Where was she from? Not from any of the mainland kingdoms. Perhaps from one of the colonies Argos had established on the Rithweald? No, not with that complexion. Her blue-black hair reminded him more of the ambassadors from Faelkish. Strange. How had they captured her?

She met his gaze with her smoldering gold eyes. Swallowing, he glanced over at his father. The man’s gaze had also settled on the girl with defiance in her eyes. Rith curse him! He’d ruin the girl. Eras gritted his teeth and clenched his fists at his sides. Yes, his father would destroy her.
But what was he to do about it? Forcing his fists to relax, he stared at the polished wooden doors behind the traders. He couldn’t intervene here.

The slave traders’ ring leader stepped forward, his head still bowed in respect. “Your Eminence, do you see anything you like?”

His father’s gaze raked over the line of slaves. “You brought me a rather dull lot this time.”

Dull? Eras raised a brow. None of them appeared dull to him. Unless, by dull his father meant they had no will. That, at least, was true.

“Surely there is something that can interest you? We have, for instance, this lovely young woman from Brithos. She was taken on a recent raid.” The trader gestured to a green-eyed slip of a girl.

Barely fifteen, Eras guessed.

“Or perhaps you prefer a bit more exotic option.” The slaver turned to the woman who’d been last in line. “We have this one from Faelkish. She’s a bit of a hellion, but I’m sure your Grace could tame her.”

Did he really have to be so smug? Eras clenched his fists at his sides. No one should tame her at all. How dare they speak this way about human beings?

“Let the Crown Prince choose first.” His father waved a hand at him.

He froze. Let him pick? His father knew he wouldn’t take a slave. The defiant girl’s gaze fixed on his again. He swallowed and broke eye contact. Had he imagined the hope in her eyes? “I see nothing of interest.” He peeked at the girl from beneath lowered lashes.

Her shoulders slumped, and her eyes darted to his father.

“Well, I see only one that I like. I’ll take the Faelkish—”

Eras’s heart wrenched, and his chest tightened. He could stop this. He could keep at least one safe from his father. Maybe. He stepped forward, holding up a hand. “Wait!”

His father shifted on his throne and raised a brow with a huff. “What is it?”

“I—” Eras met her now-blank stare. “I’ve changed my mind. Maybe it’s time I took on a slave or two after all.”

“And?” Rabhor drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair.

“I’m heir to the throne…” He stared at the girl. She’d probably hate him for what he was about to say, but it was the only way to save her from Rabhor’s clutches. “It’s about time I built my harem. The future God-king incarnate shouldn’t be without wives and concubines.” He hoped there was a suitable amount of contempt in his voice. Hoped his father would know that even in this, Eras was mocking him.

The answering frown told him the last comment had done its job. He bit his lip and glanced at the girl in green. Her expression went from hopeful to vacant. But a spark of anger still simmered in her empty stare. His gut clenched, and he tried not to think about how she must view him now. A necessary evil.

He offered his father a saccharine smile. “As such, I’d like the Faelkishian girl.”

~~~

That’s it for this week! Do you guys have anything you’re working on? If so, feel free to share in the comments below as always!

Flash Fiction Fridays – Their Firstborn

Ariel Paiement

This week’s flash fiction is about Banach and Rith. Here, we get to see the couple that’s the main focus of Rith’s Disciple (coming out in late 2019/early 2020) as they share the joy of discovering they’re going to be parents.

~~~

Banach pressed a hand to her flat stomach and stared at the midwife. “You’re certain?”

The midwife smiled. “Sweetheart, you missed three monthly courses, and you’re fitter than most. I’m positive.”

She looked down at her bare belly. “Really?”

“I can sense the life, my dear. So, yes, really. Isn’t it good news?”

Of course it was. She’d been hoping for this for so long. But at the same time, it was still a shock. She was going to be a mother. A mother? It just didn’t seem possible. But the midwife had confirmed it. And she knew Ranwen was skilled. She wouldn’t misread her patient’s condition.

“My lady?”

She looked up at Ranwen and blinked. “Sorry. It’s just a shock. But it’s good news. Definitely good news.” A tiny smile lifted the corners of her lips. “How far along is it?”

“He’ll be four months along in two weeks.”

“But I’m barely showing. It just looks like I gained a little extra weight.” How was that even possible? It must be if Ranwen said that was the baby’s age. It certainly explained why she hadn’t noticed until now.

Ranwen smiled and patted her shoulder. “It happens sometimes. Don’t you worry. The baby is perfectly fine. But you need to take it easy. I’ll make you a tincture for the queasiness, but I can’t do much for the fatigue. Tell that husband of yours to make sure you rest.”

Banach slipped off the examiner’s bench with a smile. “He’s been particularly careful with me since I got sick. I’m sure knowing that it’s the baby will be a relief. I swear, the man thought I was dying.”

That earned a laugh from Ranwen. “He’s just overprotective and a little too sweet for his own good.”

She grinned. Her husband was certainly that. Funny how she’d once distrusted him so much. Now she couldn’t even imagine believing he would hurt her. “He definitely is. I’m sure I’ll be bundled in blankets and treated like china once he finds out I’m carrying his baby.” She sighed. “It’ll be bed rest for me, for sure.”

Ranwen snorted. “It most certainly will not. You need fresh air and moderate exercise in addition to plenty of rest and solid nutrition. If he tries that, you come to me, and I’ll straighten him out like I would my own son.”

She would. Ranwen had known Rith since before he became king of Faelkish. She didn’t take any nonsense from anyone, and she wasn’t afraid to give even the king a piece of her mind. Probably because she never did see him as a king as much as she saw him as the young man she had mothered after they’d arrived on Alcardia. “I’ll do that. And I’m going to tell him you told me to tell you if he’s babying me too much.” She grinned. “He might be commanding and regal with everyone else, but I swear he’s like a big baby when it comes to your scoldings.”

Ranwen shrugged. “Eh, the boy knows what’s good for him. Now, go on, or you’ll be late for lunch. You have something to tell him that can’t wait.”

Banach’s grin widened. “Absolutely. I’ll see you around, then?”

“Every two weeks until that baby comes, you hear?”

“Yes, ma’am.” She hurried to the door. “Thanks, Ranwen.”

“Any time. Congratulations.”

She shot Ranwen a smile and then rushed out the door. Her hand drifted back to her belly. They’d been trying for so long, but now they finally had a baby on the way. And a boy too. Her body felt weightless, and she wondered if it were possible to float due to happiness. It certainly felt like that was what she was doing.

Before she knew it, she’d arrived at the small dining room she and Rith used for private meals. The door was already open, and she could see her husband seated at the end of the table while the servants bustled about laying out the meal. She crossed the threshold and went to stand beside Rith.

He smiled at her. “You’re practically bubbling over. What happened? Good news at the appointment?”

She leaned down and pressed her lips to his for a second before sitting down at the spot beside him. “Very.”

“Ranwen knew what was wrong, I take it.” His brow furrowed. “Was she able to solve the problem?”

“Nope.” Banach helped herself to a plate of meat and cheese. For some reason, she’d found this was the one thing she could keep down consistently and always seemed to want. Maybe it had to do with the baby.

“No?” Rith’s frown deepened.

She smiled at him and started on her food.

“I don’t understand. If she can’t solve the problem, then why are you happy?”

“Because we don’t want to be rid of this problem.” She glanced over at him, fought the laughter bubbling up inside of her.

“Don’t need to be—” Rith reached out to press a hand to her forehead. “You don’t have a fever. Bane, what’s going on? You’re not making any sense.”

A laugh did escape her then. “I’m not sick, Rith.” She stood.

He pushed his chair back and turned toward her. “You’ve been queasy and tired all the time. Of course you’re sick.”

She shook her head and went to stand between his legs. “Not sick.” Taking his hand, she pressed it to her abdomen. “Expecting.”

His frown faded, and he stared up at her. For a minute, he didn’t say anything, and she wondered if he was happy. She was sure he was. It was probably just shock. He’d wanted a child for as long as she had. Probably longer since he’d been thinking about marriage and children long before he’d asked her. And he’d done a poor job of disguising his thoughts. Sort of like now. His thoughts slipped past his barriers even as he continued to stare at her without a word. I’m going to be a father?

Banach sat in his lap with a laugh. Yes. We’re going to be parents. I couldn’t believe it at first either.

He stroked her abdomen with a soft laugh. “Did Ranwen know the gender?”

She rested her head against his shoulder. “It’s a boy.”

“Do you think he’ll look like you?”

“I hope not. Do you have any idea how many of the people from your world thought I was a witch?”

“They’re old souls. The people here know better.”

“All the same, I’d prefer he has your hair.”

He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. “Just as long as he gets your eyes.”

“Why? I like your eyes.”

“Because hazel is more unique.”

She opened her eyes and twisted to face him. “No, it isn’t. Your eyes remind me of the way the shadows dance when you Step.”

“And yours change hue depending on your mood and your outfit.”

She huffed and settled back against him. “Fine. You know what?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t care what he looks like. He’s our child, so it doesn’t matter. He’ll be beautiful no matter what.”

“True.” He boosted her off his lap and turned her to face him. “You know what else?”

She bit her lip. “No. What?”

“You have once again managed to make me happier than I’ve ever been. Thank you.”

A smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “And you have made me a very happy woman.”

He smirked. “We’ll see if you’re still saying that in a few more months when he’s kicking. If he’s anything like me, it’ll be one bumpy ride. According to my mother, I was the most active of the three of us, and she said I caused her the most pain.”

Banach rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the warning. Let’s hope he’s tamer than you.”

“He’s my son. I should hope he isn’t. He’ll be ruling this kingdom when I’m gone.”

“All the same, I’m still happy. Other women have told me the pain pales in comparison to the feeling of joy that comes when you hold them for the first time.”

“I hope so.” He pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist. “Now that we know what’s going on, you’re not to stress yourself out. I want—”

Banach returned to her seat with a smirk. “You’d better not try to lock me in our room or put me on bed-rest. Ranwen says I’m to engage in moderate exercise and get plenty of fresh air.”

He looked like he wanted to protest. Of course he did. He worried about her too much. But she wasn’t going to do anything to endanger herself or the baby. She’d do what Ranwen told her to, and she’d take care of them both. Rith stared at her with a sigh. “And I suppose that if I don’t cooperate, you’ll sic Ranwen on me?”

“Precisely.” Her smile softened, and she reached out to clasp his hand in hers. “Don’t worry. I’ll rest and take care of myself. And you’ll be around to help when I need you. Even when I don’t, I’m sure.”

He squeezed her hand with a grin. “As always.”

She sighed in mock exasperation. But deep down, she couldn’t be happier. They had a baby on the way, and she had a husband who would make a wonderful father. No matter what happened, she knew she’d be able to rely on him. She might not know anything about mothering, but she knew a lot about what not to do from observation. She’d learn the rest in time. Hopefully the baby would forgive her mistakes when he grew up. She rested her hand on her abdomen and resumed lunch with a smile on her face. Things would work out just as they should.

~~~

And that’s it for this week, everybody! I hope you enjoyed seeing a little more of this particular couple. Even if they are a bit sappy. If you have any feedback on this flash fiction Friday or a suggestion for a future flash-fiction, feel free to leave your responses in the comments below. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can!

Have a great weekend!

Flash Fiction Friday – Equinox Queen

Ariel Paiement

This week, I’ve got a flash fiction post that gives a glimpse into the lives of Leo’s parents before he was born. This takes place just after Leo’s father won Anne in the Equinox Hunt. The piece does contain some mild content that makes it best for those 13 and up. Nothing is shown or described. Just some mentions of violence and assault, but I know some readers may not be comfortable with this.

~~~

Anne ducked her head and watched the festivities go on around her. She’d tried her best not to end up here. But it hadn’t been good enough. She’d still lost, and now she was his. His wife. His trophy. Caladhor’s gaze roved over her, bringing with it reminders of the violence in the forest. Why hadn’t she run harder, faster?

She dropped her attention to her lap, refused to give him the satisfaction of her focus. He’d taken everything from her, just like the slavers had. Oh, he promised her that life would be better now that she was his. But she knew it wouldn’t be.

She knew what really went on behind closed doors. The tent walls were thin in the encampment. And no woman ever stayed completely silent when being forced. Even if she knew no help was coming. Instinct demanded that they at least try.

And she’d tried.

The men streamed up to their table, congratulated Caladhor, and leered at her. She shrank back in her seat. Caladhor didn’t rebuke them for their openly lustful gazes, but he also didn’t encourage it. Would he let them have her if they asked? Other women had suffered that fate after being crowned the Equinox Queen. If her King wasn’t pleased with her, he might loan her out to other men until she learned to please him as demanded. Ann bit her lip. Most women who were placed in that situation didn’t make it.

She stole a glance at Caladhor. He met her darting gaze with a wolfish smile and raised his wine glass to her. She stared down at her hands where they rested in her lap. Her fingers trembled, and her stomach flipped. What would he do to her if she didn’t please him?

“You look miserable.”

Her head snapped up. “W-what?”

“You look miserable.” Caladhor crossed his arms, nodded to a few passerbys who congratulated him. “You’ve been given one of the highest honors a woman of Ishtral can gain, but you look like someone has sentenced you to death.”

She turned her head away and choked back a sob. What did he expect? She had less freedom here than she’d had as a slave before Kiarhsu bought her, forced her to become a part of the Argosian chapter of Ishtral. Things had seemed better until Caladhor and other men started taking interest.

“What’s wrong, then? Not me, certainly.” He snorted. “You’re now the first wife of one of the elite of Ishtral. You’ll never want for anything.”

Except freedom. Affection. Tenderness. Everything that mattered in life. She gritted her teeth, and her fingers curled into fists.

“Answer me.” His voice deepened, threatened violence if she didn’t obey.

Tipping her head up, she turned to look at him. “How could you think this is an honor? I’m more a slave than ever before.”

“Nonsense. You’re going to be given the best the world can offer. I’m a generous man, Anne.”

What was his definition of generous? Certainly not hers.

“You don’t believe me. But I can be. If you’re good, if you do what you’re told, I’ll give you anything you desire. Anything at all. Even if you ask to keep any daughters you bear me. I’ll grant that wish too.”

Generous, for an Ishtralian. Girls were pawns at best and chattel at worst as far as Ishtralians were concerned. She narrowed her eyes. Was he serious? Or was he simply saying it to placate her? “I thought girls were useless burdens.”

“Not in my position. I can afford them, and I can get a high price from whoever wishes to wed our daughters.”

That was it then. She stiffened. It always went back to the money with him. Their daughters might be well-groomed, but they’d still be no better than property. She lowered her head again to head the tears welling up in her eyes. What had she done to anger the gods so greatly? Why would they allow such awful things to happen to her? To the world?

The events of the evening ran through her mind like cold water. She trembled as the festivities continued and more and more couples broke away from the fire to find their beds. Soon, she’d spend her wedding night with Caladhor. If the rough handling in the forest was any indicator, it wouldn’t be a good night.

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she closed her eyes with a deep breath. This was life now. She’d just have to make the best of it and hope for an escape. Maybe if she bore a son for Caladhor, he’d leave her alone. It was a long shot, but it was better than nothing.

She wiped away the tears when Caladhor wasn’t looking and squared her shoulders. There was no other choice. She would endure, and she would fight in the shadows to make sure that her children never became a monster like the one sitting beside her. She would wage war in her own way and pray that it would close in freedom or death.

Because if she couldn’t have her freedom, she would rather not live at all.

~~~

That’s all for this week! If you enjoyed it or would like to comment on it, please leave your feedback in the comments below. Have suggestions or things you’d like to see in future Flash Fiction Fridays? Leave those in the comments too!

Flash Fiction Fridays: Warrior Queen

Ariel Paiement

Hey, everyone! I’m back this week with another Flash Fiction Friday. This week’s flash fiction focuses on Yuldha, the young Queen of Elventar, as she faces the oncoming army from Aleshtain. Determined not to let them take what is hers and her people’s, she stands in defense of their capital city.

~~~

Yuldha leaned over the parapet of the stone wall, squinting at the oncoming hoard. They’d be here in less than ten minutes. She pushed herself away from the edge of the wall and retreated. Close enough for archers to get a lucky shot. Wouldn’t that make King Myranor happy? The lucky archer who got a shot on her would be rewarded handsomely. Assuming Myranor was in a mood to have her dead instead of alive.

She pressed her back against the cool stone of the walkway’s back wall. Who knew what his mood would be? Really, what had the king expected? That she, Queen of a realm who hated his with an eternal passion, would accept his offer? Wed him and hand over the kingdom his ancestors had been trying to fell for centuries? She glared out across the plains. The man was a fool.

“My Lady, please come down from there! The archers are within range, and the men await your orders.”

Yuldha glanced down at the stairs leading into the keep. Her glare faded, and the corners of her mouth twitched up in a smile. “You worry too much, Lord Trydan.”

Trydan grinned. “It’s my job as the Matriarch’s Sword, my Lady.”

She wrinkled her nose. “You shouldn’t call yourself by your official title.”

“Why not?” He raised a brow. “Would you prefer some other title?”

Her heart skipped a beat, and she offered him an indulgent smile. Ever persistent in his advances. She had to admire that. And she wasn’t going to lie. His flirtatious manner warmed her, particularly since she was the only one on the receiving end. She flipped her braid over her shoulder and stalked to the stairs. A Queen still had to keep up pretenses. She couldn’t act the innocent maiden or starry-eyed damsel with anyone. Not in public, at least. “Of course not. It would go to your head, Dhan.”

He laughed and offered her a hand down the last few steps. “I’m sure you’d keep me in my place, Yul.”

She shot him a glare. “You’re not to call me that in public. You know that.”

“Why not?” The playful smirk replaced the warm smile.

She squeezed his hand until he hissed and looked away. “Because I said so. You shouldn’t need me to explain to you how it looks for Elventar’s warrior queen to lower her guard for a mere man.”

He wrinkled his nose. “I’m not just any man, Yul,” he murmured.

“We’re in a war, Trydan.” Heat flooded her, belying the ice she’d imbued in her tone. “I don’t have time to be weak. And after what that Rith-cursed savage pulled, I’m not inclined to consider anyone.”

He squeezed her hand in return, but the pressure was gentle and comforting. “Someday you will be. You’re too strong to let him ruin you for love, my warrior Queen.”

She tugged her hand from his grasp even though she wanted to leave it there, to let him comfort her and tell her everything would be fine. Well, there was time enough for that later. If they survived this battle. She strode ahead, leaving Dhan behind to consider his words and her obvious cold shoulder. If he still chased after her, maybe—and that was a big maybe—she’d consider it. After all, if Elventar survived this siege—and she was determined it would—her line would need to continue somehow. Dhan was a good choice. Her lips curved up in a fierce smile.

Her soldiers snapped to attention as she stalked into the open courtyard. She waited as they saluted and greeted her, hands thumping to their chests over their hearts. In response, she bowed, silently showing her respect for their unspoken vow of protection. Then she straightened and met their gazes. “Men and women of Elventar, today we fight. Let’s show Aleshtain they can’t have our home no matter what they try!”

The men and women roared their approval, slamming the butts of spears to the ground or rattling swords against spears. She smiled, resting a hand on the sword sheathed at her hip. King Myranor was going to rue the day he ever crossed her. He thought he could barge in here and take her and her kingdom by force? Well, she’d show him what happened to those dumb enough to try.

~~~

That’s it for this Friday, folks! I’d love to hear your thoughts. If you enjoyed this week’s flash fiction or have anything you’d like to ask, feel free to drop it in the comments below.

Flash Fiction Fridays: Claiming Rhubhian

Ariel Paiement

In Bane of Ashkarith, readers are introduced to Dhiabhan and Rhubhian, an air captain and a slave from Aleshtain. This short piece shows how Dhiabhan met Rhubhian. Their story will be told in my upcoming novella, Traitor Prince of Aleshtain. So, if you enjoyed these two in Bane of Ashkarith and are hoping for more, keep an eye out for that. For now, I hope you enjoy this Flash Fiction Friday.

~~~

Eras tried not to toy with the hem of his tunic while he waited for the day’s events to begin. Why had he come to court today, again? Right. His father had insisted. He shot his father a hard glare from where he stood behind the throne. Didn’t even have the decency to have a chair, let alone a proper throne, erected for his heir. His scowl deepened, and his gut clenched. Worse still, he was here just so he could watch the slave masters parade their newest wares about for his father. Anything for Rabhor Thilain.

His stomach flipped. Which unlucky girl would end up in his father’s harem this afternoon? He closed his eyes, swallowing back bile. He just hoped it would be over soon. The five minutes they’d been waiting stretched out until it felt like twenty. How much longer until he could be done with this? Sweat trickled down his back, and he glanced at his father.

The doors finally swung open just as he couldn’t take any more. The page strode in and bowed stiffly. Eras eyed the man’s ballooning pants and striped shoes. The newest fashion in court? Ridiculous as usual.

“My liege, the merchants have brought their wares for your examination.” The page stepped to the side and nodded to the men waiting a few feet down the hall.

They made it sound so benign. As if they weren’t trafficking humans. They used nice, pretty words to hide the ugly, vicious truth. Typical. His attention fixed on the slaves being prodded into the room. He let his gaze wander over the row of women. His eyes snagged on the last woman in line. Two guards flanked her, holding her arms and dragging her in. The others before her had walked in placidly, their heads down and shoulders slumped.

But not this one. Each step, she took was controlled and tightly contained as if she would burst into flight at any moment. She walked between her captors with her head held high, a glower on her pretty features. It was as if she was born a goddess and was disgusted by the banality of the humans beneath her. That made him snicker. Maybe he should take up poetry.

His father glared at him, and he sobered, returning his focus to the line of slaves. He shifted from one foot to the other. Where was she from? Not from any of the mainland kingdoms. Perhaps from one of the colonies Argos had established on the Rithweald? No, not with that complexion. Her blue-black hair reminded him more of the ambassadors from Faelkish held. Strange. How had they captured her?

She met his gaze with her smoldering brown eyes. Swallowing, he glanced over at his father. The man’s gaze had also settled on the girl with defiance in her eyes. Rith curse him! He’d ruin the girl. Eras gritted his teeth and clenched his fists at his sides. Yes, his father would destroy her. But what was he to do about it? Forcing his fists to relax, he stared at the polished wooden doors behind the traders. He couldn’t intervene here.

The slave traders’ ring leader stepped forward, his head still bowed in respect. “Your Eminence, do you see anything you like?”

His father’s gaze raked over the line of slaves. “You brought me a rather dull lot this time.”

Dull? Eras raised a brow. None of them appeared dull to him. Unless, by dull his father meant they had no will. That, at least, was true.

“Surely there is something that can interest you? We have, for instance, this lovely young woman from Brithos. She was taken on a recent raid.” The trader gestured to a green-eyed slip of a girl.

Barely fifteen, he guessed.

“Or perhaps you prefer a bit more exotic option.” The slaver turned to the woman who’d been last in line. “We have this one from Faelkish. She’s a bit of a hellion, but I’m sure your Grace could tame her.”

Did he really have to be so smug? Eras clenched his fists at his side. No one should tame her at all. How dare they speak this way about human beings?

“Let the Crown Prince choose first.” His father waved a hand at him.

He froze. Let him pick? His father knew he wouldn’t take a slave. The defiant girl’s gaze fixed on his again. He swallowed and broke eye contact. Had he imagined the hope in her eyes? “I see nothing of interest.” He peeked at the girl from beneath lowered lashes.

Her shoulders slumped, and her eyes darted to his father.

“Well, I see only one that I like. I’ll take the Faelkish—”

Eras’s heart wrenched, and his chest tightened. He could stop this. He could keep at least one safe from his father. Maybe. He stepped forward, holding up a hand. “Wait!”

His father shifted on his throne and raised a brow with a huff. “What is it?”

“I—” Eras met her now-blank stare. “I’ve changed my mind. Maybe it’s time I took on a slave or two after all.”

“And?” Rubhor drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair.

“I’m heir to the throne…” He stared at the girl. She’d probably hate him for what he was about to say, but it was the only way to save her from his Rabhor’s clutches. “It’s about time I built my harem. The future God-king incarnate shouldn’t be without wives and concubines.” He hoped there was a suitable amount of contempt in his voice. Hoped his father would know that even in this, Eras was mocking him.

The answering frown told him that last comment had done its job. He bit his lip and glanced at the girl in green. Her expression went from hopeful to vacant. But a spark of anger still simmered in her empty stare. His gut clenched, and he tried not to think about how she must view him now. A necessary evil.

He offered his father a saccharine smile. “As such, I’d like the Faelkishian girl.”

His father’s frown deepened. “I—”

“You said I could pick.” Eras lowered his voice. “Do you really want to make a scene in front of everyone?”

That gained him a narrow-eyed stare. But his father finally nodded and lifted a hand toward the trader. “It seems my son has chosen.” His lips curved into a sly smirk. “I’m glad to see he isn’t as touched in the head as I thought. He still appreciates a beautiful woman.”

The traders laughed, but the atmosphere felt heavy now. Their attention remained fixed on him and his father like hawks watching prey. Waiting for the showdown to begin, no doubt. Too bad. He wasn’t planning on a fight. Not if his father would give him his way. He’d ignore the insults and jibes about his romantic inclinations if it meant saving her from his father.

“Well, you heard him, Rhubhian.” The head trader glared at the sullen girl. “Go to him.”

She didn’t budge. Instead, she just shot the man a venomous look and planted her feet on the marble floor. Eras raised a brow. Didn’t she know she’d end up getting into trouble behaving that way? He sighed. “Father, perhaps I might be dismissed? I should settle my newly acquired asset somewhere secure.”

His father huffed but nodded. “Go on, then. Take her and get out of my sight.”

Eras shot him a cold glare. Was that really any way to deal with the Crown Prince? For someone who constantly insisted Eras behave befitting his station, the man seemed awfully determined to undermine him. He stalked down the steps of the dais and stopped in front of Rhubhian. Now that he was closer, he could see how tightly the guards were holding her upper arms. They’d leave bruises that way. His jaw clenched. “Release her. Now.”

The guards eyed him, but they did as asked, backing away to leave the two of them standing face-to-face alone. Eras resisted the urge to reach out, to tell her that everything would be alright now. He couldn’t let his father see that this girl mattered at all. He could still lose her if his father changed his mind. Leaning closer, he murmured, “Go along with what I say, and you might avoid a place in my father’s harem.” He grabbed the chain attached to her collar and turned to walk off. “Well, get a move on. I don’t have all day.” He glanced over his shoulder and raised a brow.

She stared back at him with a sneer but did what she was told, falling into step a few feet behind him. He held his head high and thrust his shoulders back, hoping his father wouldn’t see the relief coursing through him. He’d done it. He’d saved her from his father.

There was just one big question hovering in his mind now. What was he to do with a slave?

~~~

That’s all for this Friday! If you enjoyed this, as mentioned before, there will be a novella dedicated to Dhiabhan’s story. I’ll be announcing more about that at a later date and will update everyone on when it starts going up on my writing profiles.

Until next Friday, everyone! Have a great weekend.

Work-In-Progress Wednesdays #12

Ariel Paiement

This week, I’ve got a little snippet from In Darkness Lost. I’ve been doing a ton of editing and revision work on this to get the revised edition of the Kindle ready and a paperback out for the first time. In this particular scene, one of the two main characters, a mage known as Crypt, is doing his best to help save as many of his countrymen’s lives on the battlefield as he can, but he’s conflicted because he hasn’t been on the up-and-up in prior chapters and feels he’s taking quite a large risk in helping them.

~~~

HE stood on the wall, watched the forces below as they prepared and kept a wary eye on each other in unease. Then the first of the battles began with a crash as the first wave of soldiers began their attack on Argent’s lines. He grimaced as their line buckled and swayed, struggled to hold the tide of green uniformed soldiers back. Still, their silver uniformed soldiers fought fiercely, and gradually the two armies came to a standstill. Their line did not break, but neither did it advance. 

Cyril’s line backed off a few feet to regroup. 

A few minutes later, their cavalry charged Argent’s line, the horses ramming their unprepared soldiers. Most military forces contained only a small cavalry unit since horses were in short supply and easily injured or killed in battle. But Cyril had the money for it, and they were determined to use it. The line broke in a few places, and he held back the groan. He had known what would happen when their forces clashed with Cyril’s of course, but he hadn’t expected to feel as awful as he did. 

But inside the grief and guilt, a fire burned within him. He wanted to help their lines. He needed to help his countrymen to hold back the overwhelming tide of invaders. Then he shook his head imperceptibly. No. He couldn’t do that. If he did, Cyril would think something was wrong. Or would they? If he just gave a little help here and there, he could help without being noticed. Couldn’t he? After all, Dairdra did have their other mages helping to form barriers and keep the rush of invaders from completely overwhelming the weakest points. In some places, the invaders even hit force-fields that kept them from reaching Argent’s soldiers. 

He could help. He could. 

He smiled slightly, felt reckless and dauntless. It was crazy to help when he should be doing everything he could to help Cyril win so his sister and Dairdra would live, but at this point, he didn’t care. Even if he only saved a few lives, it would be a few deaths he didn’t have on his conscience. A little bit of atonement for his heinous actions.

A surge of anger flowed through his veins as he watched their lines continuing to buckle as Cyril forced them inexorably back. Gritting his teeth, he began spinning the fields around the weakest points, strengthening the existing forcefields as much as possible while still disguising his own magic so that no one would know it was him helping. He might be feeling particularly powerful and unbeatable, but he wasn’t that stupid. He wouldn’t risk being caught. 

This was completely irrational, he knew. What did he think he was doing? The chances of being caught were high even if he disguised his magic. And if he got caught, that was the end of his sister, at the very least. But he refused to let anyone else die when he could prevent it. So he’d do whatever he could, even if it meant taking a risk. Besides, it was a battle field. It would be difficult to trace him through his magic with so many other mages on the field too.

Still, he kept his smile hidden so that no one on the parapet—more importantly and specifically, Dairdra—would know what he was up to. He didn’t want anyone to know he was helping in case there was a spy among them. He had no real reason to believe there was, but one never knew, and Cyril seemed to know a lot more than what he was telling them.

Who knew what they did to get their information. Magic opened up more sources than he could possibly check. No sense in doing anything stupider than what he was already doing now. But inside, he was laughing at Cyril because he’d finally found a way to snub them without getting caught. Even if it was too late for his country, he still felt better knowing that he was doing something, anything, to help his countrymen and avoid as much slaughter as possible. He turned away from his thoughts, focused everything he had on the magic he was using and disguising the fact that it was his. If he was going to get Dairdra out of this alive along with his sister, he needed to focus with everything he had. And focus he would. Everything depended on that now.

~~~

That’s it for this week, everyone! You all know the drill. Leave snippets of your own work or feedback on any of the WIP pieces in the comments below!

Flash Fiction Friday – Training Bane

Ariel Paiement

For this Flash Fiction Friday, I have a piece that focuses on Banach and Rith. This one shares the first training session he had with her in magic.

~~~

Banach closed her eyes and drew in a long, slow breath. She placed her palms in Rith’s large hands and crossed her legs. “I’m ready.”

“You remember what we discussed?”

She nodded.

“Repeat it back to me. I want you to run through the steps one more time.”

His baritone voice trickled through her, left heat behind everywhere it touched. She shivered and brought her mind back to the task at hand. Repeat the steps. She reached out to his mind. He’d want her to practice every aspect of her ability, so she might as well start now. She might be too tired for it later. You want me to reach out with my mind to touch yours.

Good. I see you got a head start. His thoughts eddied through her mind, left an impression of a smile as they moved on. The next step?

Then I should try to plant a suggestion. Try to encourage you to do something that you weren’t previously thinking about.

He chuckled. Yes. That’s good enough for today. Let’s try.

She ran her thumb in circles along the pulse point of his right arm. His long fingers clasped her wrists, tightened.

Focus, Bane.

Her cheeks heated. He should’ve known his touch would cause this. But he’d insisted that she needed to start learning by grounding herself to someone she knew and loved. That left only him. If she wanted to learn, she’d learn his way.

She frowned and focused on the sensation of her forehead wrinkling to distract herself from his fingers. Rith had never been pushy with her, but on this point, he refused to budge. If she wanted to train, she’d train with him on his terms. Still, what was there to complain about? She had him all to herself during these moments, something she didn’t get often. And he was supportive.

His fingers tensed against her wrists. Had she forgotten to bar him from her mind at the beginning of the exercise? Suddenly, she couldn’t remember if she had. Fine. If he wanted her to focus, she would. She’d focus on the one thing she couldn’t seem to get out of her head. A smile turned up the corners of her lips.

She reached inside to the ashtra. Would it like the idea too?

The ball of energy tinkled with laughter. Do I like it? Of course, child. He’s earned it.

The smile widened.

“You know, I can feel the smugness just radiating off you.” Rith chuckled. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“Telling you that would ruin the point of the exercise.”

His thumb brushed over the pulse point of her wrist again. She shivered, and he laughed. “I think I can guess. You’re supposed to be concentrating on the exercise, though.”

Oh, she was. She took hold of the ashtra, shaping the energy into a single thought and easing it into Rith’s mind. It was similar to the way she spoke to him mind-to-mind, but at the same time, it was completely different.

He sucked in a shaky breath, and she smiled. It had settled in.

She opened her eyes just as he did the same. His normally warm gaze seemed to sear into her now, and she shivered. Maybe she’d gone overboard? He looked like he wanted more than a simple kiss, which was all she’d meant to suggest. His gaze raked over her, settled back on her face.

His lips curved up into a wicked smile. “You’re playing with fire today, aren’t you?”

Her lips parted, and she shook her head.

“I think you are.”

“I—” She cleared her throat. “Of course not.”

He leaned closer until their chests brushed. “Really?”

She lowered her gaze and watched him from beneath her lashes. No, not really. She’d clearly messed something up. He wasn’t supposed to tease her like this. He was supposed to kiss her. Just one chaste kiss. But based on the fire burning in his gaze, she’d get a lot more than that.

“You want me to kiss you?” He slid his fingers under her chin and tipped her face up.

She fought for breath, closed her eyes. “Did I say that?”

“Yes.” The terse answer rumbled through his chest and vibrated into hers.

“When?”

“The minute you planted that thought in my head.” His lips brushed hers. “Like I said, you’re playing with fire.”

She was. And she hoped it would consume her. Because at this point, the slow burn his touch ignited wasn’t enough. Heat sparked through her and blossomed in her cheeks.

“Nothing to say, Bane?”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen?”

He chuckled, tugged her into his lap. His head dipped, and his lips pressed to her neck. “You expect me to believe that?”

She straddled him and pressed her hands to his chest. “Yes. You’re supposed to be training me, and I don’t know what I’m doing. Obviously, I’ll make mistakes.”

He hummed and moved his hands down to her hips. “I suppose. But when you make mistakes, it’s my job to show you the consequences. Here, in a controlled environment where you won’t be hurt if it goes wrong.”

Even now he retained control. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Right now, his control made her heart sink and her body burn. Definitely a bad thing if he didn’t plan on relieving the ache. Banach sighed.

Rith lifted his head and smiled. “Something wrong?”

Her cheeks warmed, and she stared at the bushes hedging the clearing’s edge. Would it kill him to quench the fire he’d started? Or had she started it? Probably. She’d been the one to plant the suggestion to kiss her, after all. But she hadn’t meant for this to happen.

Rith’s rough palm cupped her cheek. “I’ll give you what you meant to ask for. No more.”

The warmth in her cheeks traveled to her ears. She met his frank stare and bit her lower lip. “No more?”

“No more.” His gaze darkened. “Otherwise, I might not be able to control myself.”

She smiled and reached out to run her fingertips over his furrowed brow. “Somehow, I doubt that. You’re the most controlled person I know.”

He dipped his head and brushed his mouth over hers. “Maybe. But I’d rather not tempt fate. Let’s just say this training session was a mixed success.”

Was it though? A success, that was. It didn’t feel like it. His quick, chaste kiss wasn’t at all what she wanted. She lowered her head to his shoulder. True, it was what she’d initially wanted. But after the looks he’d given her, his kiss disappointed. It was all she was going to get, though. So, she’d take it.

Besides, she knew there would be other times when he would go further. When he’d give her what she wanted and more. In lots of ways, he already did. The disappointment faded. He’d give more when he felt it was appropriate, when he felt she was ready. Because whatever he did, he was always trying to ensure her safety and happiness. He loved her. That was enough for now. Maybe the training session had been a success after all.

~~~

That’s it for this week, everyone! I’d love to know what you think! Feel free to leave a comment below if you have anything you’d like to say or if you have suggestions for more things you’d like to read on Flash Fiction Fridays.

Launch Celebration Wrap Up

Ariel Paiement

Well, everyone, the launch for Bane of Ashkarith has gone well! Thanks to a great team of helping hands and some really amazing authors, I had a good blog tour and a successful launch party on Facebook.

If you’re curious about the book, you can find out more about it here on the blog or on Facebook and Amazon. The book is now live on Kobo and Amazon as either a paperback or ebook. The paperback is exclusively available on Amazon for now. In the future, I may also have the book available on other sites, but for now, it’s just available through Kobo and Amazon.

Be on the lookout for reviews from those who had ARC copies or acquired copies after the launch as those will be coming out in the days to come.

To everyone who celebrated with me, thank you! You guys made this lots of fun, and I know all the others authors who joined me had a blast too. I hope that you’ll pick up your copy of Bane of Ashkarith on Amazon or Kobo. If you do, consider leaving a review! It would really help me to know what you enjoyed and what you didn’t. I’m not perfect, and there’s always something I can improve!

Have a question about the book or want to know something particular about the launch and my journey? Feel free to drop me a comment below, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can!

Flash Fiction Fridays: Lost Soul

Ariel Paiement

For today’s Flash Fiction Friday, the focus is on Rith. Featured as the dark god or god of shadows in the Alcardian novels, he’s seen facing off with his sister in Rith’s Disciple, a short story set before the events of Pathway of the Moon. In this piece, the event leading to his parents’ and fiancee’s deaths is revealed.

~~~

The smell of smoke blasted him in the face as he approached the long gravel drive leading to his ancestral home. Rith frowned. Was father burning brush again? He glanced up at the darkening sky. Too late in the day. His heart squeezed, and his stomach ached. Something wasn’t right.

He broke into a run, trying to Step in the shadows. They didn’t answer. He tried again, reaching out with his mind. But still the shadows remained out of reach, refusing his request to portal to the house. His head ached with the effort, and he stopped in his tracks, grasping for his magic once more.

Why wasn’t it responding? Had the drinks he’d had with Sedra and Albrith addled him that much? He tried to reach out to his sisters, but only cold silence greeted him. He couldn’t touch their minds like he normally could either. Could he touch anyone’s? He reached for Raewen and his father. Nothing.

It didn’t matter. He forced himself to keep sprinting down the drive, ignoring the burn in his lungs. The smell of smoke strengthened, and his throat ached as it filled his nose and lungs. The heat in the air grew the closer he came to home.

Then he rounded the corner and saw it.

The entire mansion blazed, the fire angrily licking at the wood and anything else consumable. It raged through everything, flickering and leaping from the windows.

Rith froze for a minute and stared. How? How had this happened?

Where were his parents? And what about Raewen? His heart lurched. Raewen! She’d been planning to visit so they could announce their engagement. He’d been out celebrating the news with his sisters upon their insistence, but she should’ve arrived shortly before he did.

He broke into a run, rationality fleeing. Their motorized coach sat in the driveway where it should be, and he cursed, pushing himself to go faster. The heat seared his skin, but he ignored it, listening for any sign that anyone had survived.

He couldn’t call anyone for help. If they were in there, he was their only chance.

A scream lifted faintly from somewhere at the back of the house. Raewen. Were his parents with her? Why hadn’t they been able to get out? He sprinted around the side of the mansion, searching for any entrance point that wasn’t consumed with flame. The only part of the house untouched so far was the section without windows or outside doors. They must’ve been unable to break past the fire and had been forced to hide in the laundry room. But it wouldn’t be long before the flames reached them.

There wasn’t time to wait for help to come.

He called to the shadows again. They flickered in response but didn’t let him through. Sinking to his knees, he released a guttural scream and wrenched at the magic with all his might. Something inside snapped, and pain seared down every nerve in his body. He stiffened, screaming out of pain now instead of frustration. It shouldn’t feel like this. Why did it hurt so badly?

The screams inside the house grew louder before choking off. He stretched trembling fingers toward the house, his vision blurring. If he could just endure the pain, he could make the magic respond. He could save them all.

The shadows swirled around him, caressing his burning skin and whispering in agitated murmurs. They didn’t like what he was doing. The pain flared higher, and he dug his fingers into the cool grass beneath him. He would not lose them. He couldn’t.

With an agonized groan, he reached out to the magic again and screamed at it with his mind. Let me through! The shadows screamed alongside him, and then the world went dark as they sucked him in.

He was spit back out in the laundry room. Tumbling to a stop, he took in the situation, every nerve in his body still alight. Was this what it would feel like to have the fire rage inside of him? He sucked in a breath, the smoke and heat searing into his lungs. His gaze flew around the room before landing on three still forms in the back of the room. He’d found them.

Stumbling to his feet, he hurried to them. Each step cut into him as if he was walking barefoot across glass. His fingers trembled at his side, and the magic inside of him bucked against his restraint. Why was it acting like this? Why? He hadn’t been out of control like this since he was five.

He’d almost reached them when it happened.

The magic slammed into his walls of restraint and crashed through. Like a river blowing through a dam, it raged through him. The shadows in the room writhed in response, and his head felt like it was being split open. He dropped to his knees, clutching his head between his hands. Tears slid down his cheeks and evaporated as soon as they fell. Make it stop. Anyone, please, make it stop.

His vision blurred again, and he curled up in a ball on the floor, his own screams distant in his ears. Somewhere, he heard a muffled explosion. The ground trembled, and chunks of plaster from the ceiling hit him in the side. He couldn’t stay here. They couldn’t stare here.

He forced himself to his hands and knees, crawling toward his parents and fiancee. Maybe if he could reach them, he could portal them all away from here.

The wall behind them was webbed with cracks. He frowned, blinking. Was he hallucinating now too?

A groan vibrated through the floor and the walls. More chunks of plaster rained down on his back. Then the wall exploded backward, as though ripped out by an invisible hand. Rith collapsed, unable to hold his own weight. What was happening? His dazed mind couldn’t process any of it anymore. He stared at the ruined, jagged edges of the wall. Stared at the void beyond. The gloaming of dusk and his mother’s flower garden were no longer visible. Only blackness greeted him, deeper than any shadow he’d Stepped through.

Was this the end then? He lifted a trembling hand, wondering if the void could act as a portal. It was his last hope. He pushed himself back onto his hands and knees. Inch by inch, he crawled toward his parents and Raewen.

His head throbbed, and each movement was sheer torture. The magic rioting inside of him didn’t ease up. The darkness in the room deepened, swallowing up the forms of his loved ones. His limbs gave out again, and he slammed face first into the stone floor. A sob clawed from his sore throat, and he lay there, staring at the darkness. Then it swallowed him too, and the pain ceased as he gave in, letting it carry him away from the anguish in his soul.

~~~

That’s it for this week, everyone! I hope you enjoyed the piece. I’ll have a few more pieces on Flash Fiction Fridays showing more of Rith’s story if you liked this one. In the meantime, if you enjoyed this, you can learn more about his story in my novel Bane of Ashkarith, which releases at the end of July 2019.

Work-In-Progress Wednesdays #10

Ariel Paiement

For this week’s Work-In-Progress Wednesday, I’ve got an excerpt from On Anarchy’s Wings. In this section, Awnia has confronted Dabhan about Iradia’s refusal to help them and has asked him to help convince Iradia to stop rebelling against the King.

~~~

Awnia rose, turning to face Dabhan. He leaned against the door-frame of the mansion’s drawing room, his long legs crossed. “How good of you to visit, Nia.”

She lowered her head. How dare he behave this way after all he’d done? “I should have you arrested. But I’m going to give you one more chance to be the man you once were.”

“Are you, now?” Dabhan pushed away from the door and strode into the room. He knelt in front of her and reached out to brush a stray curl away from her face. “Fascinating. Just how do you plan on doing that?”

She smacked his hand away from her face. “Keep your hands off me.”

“Why?” Dabhan rose and ambled to the fireplace, picking up the fire poker to stoke the burning coals.

Why? Because his touch made her skin crawl. Because she wasn’t his. Because she was someone else’s. Just like she had been back when he’d first touched her. “You have no right to. That’s why.”

He stiffened. “I have as much right as—”

“No.” She straightened, her fingers clenching into fists in her lap. “You do not. I don’t belong to you. I never have. I never will.”

“Then it seems our interests do not cross, my lady.” Dabhan clenched the poker tighter and turned to her with a sly smile. “What do you want of me?”

“What I’ve wanted since I first came here to parlay. I want you to convince Iradia to join forces with Gabriel. Eclesia is facing the largest threat in her history. We have to be united.”

“No.”

“No?” Awnia rose from her chair, her nails digging into her palms. “I don’t think you understand, Dabhan. If you help, I can get you pardoned for your part in this. You can claim she made you do it.” She narrowed her eyes. Surely he wouldn’t refuse knowing his life was on the line. “But if you won’t help, then you’re going to be executed for treason. No questions asked.”

He shrugged and turned back to the fire. “How is our beloved King, anyway?”

“Fine, no thanks to you.”

Dabhan snorted. “The poison isn’t through with him yet. They’ve only burned out the plant-based portion.”

Icy fingers crept down Awnia’s back. “What did you just say?”

“They’ve only burned out the plant-based portion.” Dabhan placed the poker back in the rack beside the fireplace and turned to face her. “The magic-based portion will begin to work in a few days when he’s beginning to recover fully.”

Her chest tightened. They hadn’t saved him at all. He was still dying. They just hadn’t known it. Her fists trembled against her sides. “How do I reverse it?”

“Reverse it?” Dabhan tapped his chin with a sly grin. “You don’t. Maybe I will.”

She searched his face. What was his game? Was this another clever ploy to force them to cave to Iradia’s demands? “What do you want?”

He strode closer.

Awnia backed up, tipping her chin higher. Her heart raced in her breast, but she held her poise. He wouldn’t have the satisfaction of seeing her fear. Men like Dabhan thrived on fear and control. She’d seen it plenty of times. And she wouldn’t fall prey to his trap. “What. Do. You. Want?” Each word burst from her like a bullet from one of Earth’s machine guns. Sharp. Quick.

Dabhan took another step forward.

She took one back. Two could play at this game. She’d wait him out until he saw the game was pointless and told her his price for fixing his mess.

Her back hit the wall. When had their drawing room become so tiny? It hadn’t been this small when she’d received her late husband’s guests here. Had it?

Dabhan pressed close until she could feel every hard plane of his muscular body. He lowered his head close to her ear, his nose brushing the rim. “Simple. I want you. Marry me.”

~~~

That’s all for this week, everyone. What are you all working on? Feel free to share it in the comments below! Have feedback to share on my work or someone else’s? You can leave that in the comments too. Just remember to keep everything polite and constructive!

Until next time, everybody!