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Forbidden Art

Amanda Mondoux


Forbidden Art

  Amanda Mondoux

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Work by Amanda

  Dedication

  Book Title

  About the Author

  Glimpse into the Future

  Title: Forbidden Art

  Copyright: Amanda Mondoux

  ISBN: 9781301140657

  The right of Amanda Mondoux to be identified as author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.

  This book is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and events are creations of the author that exist solely in writing.

  Work By Amanda Mondoux

  Novels

  Forbidden Era

  Short Stories

  Whyre Curse

  Forbidden Art

  Coming Soon

  Journey of Ages:

  1.Route of Veracity

  2.Road to Ruins

  3.Path of Destruction

  Dedication

  This short was written in honor of my fans. You give me the strength and determination to continue; I create these worlds, the people, and every event for you. Keep reading and remember that fantasy strengthens the mind.

  I also want to extend a special thank you to my newest editor and beta reader, Cassandra. Your keen eye saved me some embarrassing moments.

  Prologue

  Lightning crashed, highlighting two souls standing before an altar with arms held high. Both faces were drawn tight, one set of eyes gleaming of power hunger while the other only knowing black insanity. The light passed and all faded to darkness. Faint murmuring flowed in rhythmic force, quiet yet commanding enough to bypass the border barring this realm from that. Energy flooded the air, thickening and writhing as sheets of fabric unseen yet felt, snapping in crisp waves. Static built, sparking and flashing over men who would defy the laws of the cosmos.

  Their voices blended, strengthening and growing louder as the ground trembled and the world moaned. A breeze stirred followed by another, and then several more joined until they ran as one. The resulting storm formed a funnel around the altar, a dense wall of wind and energy. Their cloaks whipping about and hair dancing, the men screamed to beat the deafening roar.

  Radiant light pulsed from the altar, trying to be known in a world that coveted darkness. From this sprouted an icy stem. It grew and bent, frost spreading from its base. A blue bulb formed at its tip even as thin leaves stretched from the sides. It continued to expand while the flamboyant energy leapt and bounded about in joy of existence. The petals started to unfold.

  Time stops around them. The wind freezes in an impenetrable wall, and the energy halts in mid swirl. The men lower their arms and step forward, sweat beading and breathing heavy. They watch as the flower blooms, revealing the small form slumbering within. No more than three years in size, the child rested with her black hair lying in silk waves around her pale face. A single petal remained over her, serving as a blanket to the unclothed girl.

  The sane man wore a frown. “Is this some form of trickery? Surely this child cannot hold the power you suggested, Mazin.”

  “She is that and more, Kinian.” Mazin bent forward, leaning close to the girl with his black beard brushing her cheek. “The time of thy era beith now. Arise and share thy strength to set chaos to those fools.”

  Heat moved through Kinian’s gaze. “What of our pact?”

  Mazin straightened, his attention locked on the youthful face. “She cannot remain within the realm of mine aura lest they cometh for her. For now, she beith thy charge, then all shall bow before my might.”

  Time slowly returned, beginning with slight motion from the wind. “When will you come?”

  “When time flows in mine favor.” Black eyes snapped up, a sneer lifted pale lips. “Mine vision stretches far. Shadows cannot hide her nor can fancy casting. I shall cometh, and thou wouldst do well to be prepared.”

  Rage marred Kinian’s features. “You would threaten me?”

  A giggle interrupted the vocal duel, a tiny chirp of mirth that dashed all anger. They glanced down, and fell into the soft violet gaze. Kinian stumbled back, but Mazin grinned. “Welcome to Chaos, Myraza.”

  1

  The children ran about the throne room, laughing in pure delight. Myraza held her dress bunched in her arms, her toddler legs barely keeping with her fast pace. Jarrod trailed her, weaving about the support beams holding the kingdom’s flags. She stumbled and fell in a blur of cyan cloth. Jarrod tripped over her, sliding across the crimson runner and tearing his golden-trimmed doublet. He rolled and crawled to her with a goofy grin set across his round face, his blonde hair fluffed over his brow.

  “You’re suppose’ta stay up, silly!” He tugged her dress over her legs and helped her stand, holding her arms until she was steady. “There.”

  “Ja-rod!” Myraza threw her arms around him.

  “That is right, son.” Kinian watched from his throne, a smirk playing from knowledge the children lacked. “Protect her.”

  Myraza started to run again, and Jarrod smiled. “Where did she come from, father?”

  “Far away.”

  “She’s nice. I like her.”

  Myraza grabbed his hands and started spinning. “Ja-rod! Pro-tect!”

  His glee emerged in rolling laughter. “Always!”

  “Do not stand there like an invalid; open the doors!”

  Jarrod’s mirth fell at his brother’s bellow. He stopped and pulled his hands from Myraza’s, but she continued her spin. The air swirled around her like water, hints of blue and white seeping in. He met his father’s cold gaze, and his stomach knotted in warning. He grabbed Myraza’s shoulders, halting her game. The enchanted wind faded as the doors burst open.

  Jarrod pushed Myraza behind him as his brother strode in with a woman draped over his arms. Her eyes were open, staring vacantly up while her body lay limp, wrapped in a sheet. Darius flicked his head, tossing his hair over his shoulder in a wave of black held at bay only by the thin silver ring over his brow. Amusement caused a slight lift to his tanned face as he gazed at Kinian.

  “Look what I found, father.” He stopped before the throne and bowed his head.

  “Welcome home, son.” Kinian’s eyebrow lifted. “Found?”

  Darius shrugged. “Found, took by force, same thing, no?”

  “I take it that the siege of Wricken Crull went well?”

  “The rebels all met their fates in the ravine, though their leader turned coward and fled. This is his daughter.”

  Myraza leaned close to Jarrod. “Lady?”

  “Shh.” He placed a finger to her lips, and she smiled. When he turned back to the throne, both men were staring at him. “Sorry, father, brother.”

  Kinian waved him forward. “Bring her here, Jarrod.” His attention returned to his eldest. “This is the result of our diligence.”

  Darius puffed and looked away with a scowl. “Father.”

  “You knew.”

  “I did, but I had faith that you still maintained some sense.”

  Kinian’s visage darkened. “Watch your tongue, boy.”

  Darius’s jaw tightened. “Forgive my lapse, sire.” He met his father’s gaze. “I fret for you.”

  “I have control.”

  “So you believe.” Darius’s attention fell to the unconscious woman. “We do not need Mazin.”

  “Not anymore.”

  He cast a
quick glance in Myraza’s direction. “Or her.”

  “I shall prove you wrong. Come, come, Jarrod.”

  Jarrod led Myraza to the throne, not understanding why they argued, but knowing it had something to do with his new friend. She was special; this he knew from the warm feeling he got when they met and every time her smile graced him. His father acted strange around her, and it made him more nervous than his brother’s obvious contempt for her, but he couldn’t say why.

  Myraza hid behind Jarrod, nervous eyes on Darius.

  Kinian smiled. “She seems to be fond of you, son.”

  Something in his father’s gaze made him uncomfortable, but it passed quickly. “We’re friends.”

  “We are, little brother.” Darius shifted. “Speak with class else you shall be mistaken for a commoner.”

  “Yes, Darius.”

  “Myraza, come here, child.” Kinian held his gloved hand aloft.

  Violet eyes sought Jarrod. He nodded in encouragement, and she placed her hand in the king’s. A nervous smile formed. “Kin-an?”

  “That is correct.” Kinian pointed at Darius. “This is Darius, Myraza. Can you say that?”

  “Dar-us.” She beamed with delight of apparent success. “Dar-eee-us!”

  Darius nodded towards Myraza after a hard glare from his father. “Hello product of my father’s insanity.”

  Kinian sighed. “Must you?”

  Blue eyes snapped shut. “I feel it necessary.”

  “At least not in front of the children.”

  “Fine. Do what you must so I can release this wench.”

  “Myraza, this lady needs help finding her family.” The king placed the child’s hand over that of the woman.

  Intrigued, Myraza studied the woman. “Fam-ly? You, Ja-rod?”

  “Impeccable memory. Yes, Myraza. Now, can you