Secret Heritage

Beautiful, unparalleled , deadly 'creatures' are ruled By the unbreakable Loratalia and have done so since the start of time. Loratalia was strong, but one small mistake on an April morning, for just one moment, for the tiniest weeniest fraction of a second, she let her guard down.
Loratalia fell in love.
Now she has a secret, a secret so scary and dangerous, so poisonous and destructive, it threatens to crumble the entire structure and beauty of her society. When the secret is let loose, others will stop at nothing to tear it apart...

Ilse is an exceptionally talented, lonely seventeen year old girl. She lives with her horrible uncle and step aunt and two unpleasant cousins. However, one February morning her world caves in and suddenly, she finds herself questioning her very existence.
When two worlds collide, Ilse will have to decide what is real and what is an illusion.


6. Dreams.

A blade burnt white hot against her throat and strong, iron like arms clamped her still against a man’s torso. Taila struggled desperately, but the blade cut deeper into her throat and a hot trickle of blood ran down her neck. The man holding her laughed and touched the blood with his finger, holding the red fingertips in front of Taila’s eye line.

“My Queen,” he murmured, “Reduced to blood on fingers and whimpers under a sword.” His breath was hot against her ear and  he smelt like sweat and something sour that made her retch. The man pressed the sword further into her flesh, making her cry out.

The room was dark and empty and the distant sounds of battle were lost in the cavern they stood in. The queen knew that no one knew she was down there, she also knew that it would be a long time before anyone thought of looking for her, and the man was too strong.

“There is no escape,” He said softly, stroking her hair, “Accept your fate now, accept that there is nothing that can be done to stop me, accept that I am Stronger.”

Taila gasped.

Sitting upright.

In a bed.

Her heart raced and she gulped air, running clammy hands through her long hair.

For a moment she sat, catching her breath, shivering as the man’s voice played over and over again in her mind. Her room was cool and as she looked around, still slightly disorientated, she noticed that the glass window had been blown open, the silk curtains billowing softly in the breeze; she could hear the gentle sigh of the ocean and a shaft of white moonlight on the floor of her room. Cautiously, she put her bare feet on the floor and looked down at herself. She was wearing her nightclothes, soft like silk and sheer like chiffon, it circled her body in a perfect fit, the soft lilac colour blending in with her pure white skin. Gracefully, she climbed from her bed, the skirts of her nightclothes falling from around her thighs to her toes, and stood in the moonlight. Her mouth was dry,  but her pulse had calmed. The dream wasn’t the first of its kind but they had become more vivid and frequent and Taila was frightened; she knew they served as a warning of what was to come, and she couldn’t help but feel that as if she was on a short, fast road to inevitable disaster and the more she sat around planning or sleeping, the shorter and faster the road that lead to her dream becoming a reality became. One last look at her peaceful sleeping bedroom, and she was running from it, pulling the enormous oak door open with a grunt and padding down the long, cracked marble corridors that were cool under her feet. Finally, she reached a small stone spiral staircase hidden by a moth eaten tapestry. With a sweep of her hand, she pushed back the curtain and sped up the stairs, taking care when stepping on the steps that were fractured and crumbling with age. At last she reached the top, not even out of breath such was her soldier training. Opening the door, she spilled out onto the balcony, picking up her skirts as she ran to the figure taking watch.

Trurn turned impossibly quickly, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword.

“My Queen!” he gasped, as he hurried to put his sword away and bow. “Forgive me I-“

“Trurn.” Her tone silenced him, as did her furrowed brow and he frowned.

“What is it?”

She looked down at her feet and smoothed her dress, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Oh, uh, here,” Trurn slipped off his cape and clasped it round her shoulders, he reached his fingers around her neck and freed her hair, letting the white silk ribbons of her curls slip through his fingers like water. His hands shook and his breath caught; she was so beautiful, her sharply angled face was soft in this light and in her night clothes she looked vulnerable and delicate. Trurn wanted to protect her forever, to hold her close, to banish her fears and her worries, but as she looked up at him with those eyes of hers, he saw no love there, only worry and loneliness. Trurn stepped back, nodding slightly.

“Trurn, its time.” She said, her voice assuming its normal assertive tone.

“Time for what my Queen?” he asked, as she moved to look out across the horizon, her long fingers gripping the stone.

She turned to him, the light of her wrists shining, her hair blowing around her face in the wind, making her look like a lion with a white mane.

“It’s time, to wake her.”

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