One week to go!
Oct 18, 2025 6:01 pm
Hello Happy Readers!
Only one week to go. I'm getting giddy nerves. I really hope you guys will like Legacy of Lies and Wings.
Below I'll tease you with the first chapter, and maybe I'll even give you the second chapter next week. That's my favourite when you get to read her interaction with Ben.
Chapter 1:
The Black Blade called to me. It fucking stole my soul – almost, enthralling me to come closer.
Its magic caressed against my pale skin, a seductive pulse of raw power, stroking my cheeks like a forbidden lover. Inside its glass case, the sharp blade gleamed under the dim lights of the vault. The hilt, a masterpiece of braided black iron, hummed with the promise of destruction.
Finally, the sword was within my grasp. It had taken me two bloody years of undercover work in enemy territory to find it, and I swear I had thought it would be the end of me. Still could be! This was the boldest gamble I’d ever wagered with the Spirit of Death!
But I needed this blade. It was the only thing that could kill the enemy king for good.
I tightened the leather cord around my blue hair, tying it back in a swift, practised motion. I licked my lips. Focus. Steady hands. No missteps. My heart thundered, a war drum pounding in my chest. Slowly, I cracked open the case, careful not to trigger the military base’s security system. If I tripped the magical trap, alarms would bring a horde of black-wing guards down on me before I could take my next breath.
Adrenaline pumped like a maelstrom in my chest. My fingers slid across the braided black hilt full of ancient runes, like I was possessed by its spiritual magic. This sword was said to have once belonged to the Spirit of Magic herself. Death by an ordinary black iron blade gave the chance for repentance, reincarnation, but not this one; this blade was dangerous. Lethal. It should also have been better guarded against intruders who used the vent to get inside this room.
Their mistake.
My victory.
The moment my fingers wrapped around the hilt, a sharp jolt of power shot up my arm, and an icy sensation quickly worked its way through my veins. I gasped as the magic coil around me like tight shackles. I pulled the weapon off its stand.
And then…
Sirens screamed on all sides, the blue strobes in the room flashing like lightning trapped in a bottle. A door flung open behind me.
Damn it!
A furious guard stepped through the door from deeper within the supposedly most impenetrable military base of the Black Wing Territory. Yeah well, they’ll have to redesign the vent system if they want to claim that.
Cold, grey eyes sparkled with anger and immediately locked on me like a hawk.
Spirits! He really did not look happy.
No time to waste.
I bolted.
I ran to the wall with the pried open vent. The Black Blade, crackling with untamed power, was already sheathed at my hip as I launched myself toward the vent. My boots grazed against the wall first, kicking off for momentum. Fingers latched onto the open grate, and I hauled myself up, twisting into the cramped space just as the guard grappled for my feet.
“Stop!”
Too late.
On my hands and knees, I crawled fast through the small space. But the guards were on my heels, making a racket in the space between the tin sheets through which their bodies would barely fit to crawl.
Hunted, my skin tingled with excitement as magic flared to life. I took the next left, not having a clue where either the right or left led me. Panic had jumbled my orientation.
Adrenaline burned through me, sending my heart into a wild gallop.
Another junction. Left, or right? No time to think.
I chose left.
Then I prayed; prayed it wouldn’t lead me straight back into the belly of the beast.
Zoe had better have sent my backup squad!
A blade struck the wall near my feet. It sparked as iron hit tin, lighting up the tunnel with orange flares. Heart racing, I had one second to yank my boots to safety. The chase didn’t allow for any hesitation. I had to make quick decisions and stay a turned corner ahead of death. Because this was a chase for life or death for all of us. Because they knew as well as I did that if I stole the blade on their watch, the black-wing king would kill them.
Moonlight beckoned at the end of the tunnel. I worked my palms and knees faster, my knees feeling the bite at each collision onto the tin sheets. I could almost taste freedom. My challenge was to get out of here before five…four…three…two…
Spirits no! Rods of iron closed in on me as I crawled forwards. My exit was blocked off. Iron grills buzzed with magic, just like the vent I had entered through. If the grills at my entry point had been warded, these would be too.
Desperation clawed at my chest. My fingers barely brushed the iron before a jolt of magic singed them like lightening. Pain seared my hand as if I had actually been struck.
I’m trapped.
I had no magic left in me to break the ward. I needed a new plan. The guards would catch up with me at any moment.
I yanked the Black Blade free. When my skin touched the iron hilt, its magic once more surged up my arm like a wildfire, exhilarating and dangerous. A quick jab secured the blade between the bars. I wrenched it sideways, my muscles screaming in protest. The gate didn’t budge, but the bars groaned like a Spirit’s complaint. Bent.
Not enough.
Bracing a foot against the wall for purchase, I twisted the blade harder, then kicked my boot against its flat side. The bars creaked…warped… bent. Just enough. Enough for me to squeeze through.
No time to hesitate. I shoved the sword back into its sheath, emptying my lungs of air, and forced myself through the tiny gap, my ribs scraping against the twisted bar.
Abruptly freed from iron claws, I lost control, and my balance shifted as I jolted forwards. The vent floor disappeared beneath my hands and knees and the world spun right round. For a split second everything was weightless as a blur of colours flashed before my eyes and air rushed past my ears.
I landed on my ass, shoulder deep in a pool of rainwater, the stench of mud potent enough to make pigs gag.
Bloody great!
Now I was wet!
How could I escape fast enough if I couldn’t use my wings? Curse the August showers! Didn’t the Spirits think I struggled enough as it was, giving me two sets of wings? Not one. Two…and they were bloody heavy to fly with, too. Now, the Spirits wanted to test my survival skills flying with them wet? Because whichever set of wings I’d choose to bring out of my back would get soaked in mud. That wasn’t my only setback. When I stood up, my knee-high boots sank, the waterbed gripping my feet like claws pulling me under.
The sound from the guards pursuing me in the vent amplified. Who knew how many of them might crawl out like cockroaches that I’d have to fight, and they were coming closer. Fast. Father had honed my combat skills since I could walk, but clearly I had my limits, especially if I was outnumbered.
The mud tested my strength and fought my every step, so I forced my muscles harder to wade towards the bank and crawl up onto dry grass. My shadow reached it far before I did as the sun was set low in the dark-blue sky. I flexed out my onyx wings through the slit between my shoulder blades and my skin-tight, black jumpsuit. This uniform had no White Wing Territory emblem to show my rank or unit; not that undercover special mission agents had any badges like the soldiers did at the Bensguard Outpost. The leadership didn’t want to risk our bodies being identified if we fell beyond enemy lines.
Stretching wide, I flapped my plumes, making the force of the wind swoosh beneath them.
“Stop! Or I’ll throw my dagger straight into your fucking heart!” the guard shouted, almost bursting my eardrum.
Probably the entire Black Wing Territory heard him.
I halted instantly. I wouldn’t make it alive to the pine trees that surrounded the camouflaged military compound.
And where is my fucking backup?
Zoe should have sent a squad to extract me by now. She was my best friend, so I couldn’t kill her for failing me. But damn would I give her a bloody beating if she had forgotten. Or worse…made the judgement I didn’t need the rescue!
With an irate shrug, I withdrew my wings through the freshly opened orifice, hissing at the agony as they nestled with my white wings inside my back. I raised my hands up. The heist was over, and as ordered by my big brother, Captain Harvey Coraly of the Bensguard Outpost, I was going to semi-willingly let the soldier take back the Black Blade from me. If I actually killed him and stole the blade, it would leave me with a very small window to kill the king. The king’s death was planned to cause chaos in the Black Wing Territory. It might delay any further attacks on our people for years before they could appoint a new king and regroup their forces, as King Blackbone was the sole heir to the ancient royal line. If I failed to act fast, and King Blackbone would realise the sword was missing, he’d tighten security and search for the perpetrator at all costs. Apparently, that would make the war between the two nations really escalate. That’s how Harvey had phrased it, anyway. My dear brother had made that very clear in his short briefing the day I left for my mission; kill the black-wing king with the Black Blade. Don’t fail!
I rubbed the spot over my chest where Harvey had poked a hard finger that had left a soreness of phantom pain for days.
I turned around slowly, flashing the soldier a tired look, and craned to the side to glance at the vent, half expecting more guards to crawl out. Surely, this man who looked to be my age was too young to be a fully trained military officer, skilled enough to serve at this top-secret facility. He didn’t even have facial hair to accompany his wavy blonde hair that looped around his ears. His skin had that sun-kissed warm glow of someone who spent his days outdoors. His posture was upright, with an air of authority, and even though his muscles were accentuated when he moved, he was lean enough that I could take him down without breaking sweat. Probably.
Having seen that I had black wings too, the guy obviously wouldn’t consider the thought that I worked undercover for the white-wings in Black Wing Territory, but most noteworthy was the fact that the man’s expression didn’t change when he saw my face. All guards and servants of the king should know my face by now, anything less was an insult to my reputation.
He kept his tongue running over his lips to focus on my every move as I swayed my hips gently from left to right so as not to get too stuck in the mud.
Does he really not know who I am? My blue hair didn’t give it away?
Had he never seen me around Black Castle?
I looked at his rank badges that revealed he was a sergeant in the Infantry Unit. Three vertical lines with a horizontal beneath sat on his shoulder, so he had completed his training. Impressive. Maybe he actually did know how to handle his palmed dagger, after all.
“Fine,” I snapped. “You can have your blade back.”
I tossed the Black Blade into the water, and the heavy weapon sank below the brown surface. The guy would go for it and I would whack him out. Problem was, he didn’t. He continued to hold up his dagger, aiming it straight at me.
“Turn around and put your hands behind your back. If you make any attempt to reach for the dagger in your leg strap, I’ll throw mine.”
One foot after the other, I unstuck myself from the mud and slowly turned my back against him. “If you hurt me, you’ll be in so much trouble that a week in the Demon King of the Underworld’s dungeon will feel like paradise.”
“You’re threatening an officer of the law.”
“No. I’m informing you of the facts, trying to spare you some pain.”
Some pain. That was all I could do for him now. King Blackbone would go ballistic.
The sergeant closed in on my back, and I could hear him panting behind me, his rapid breaths not having settled from the chase. I contemplated knocking him out, but I guessed I could do with the ride back to the city. Icy water had seeped into my boots and folded over my feet like tight socks. My jumpsuit hung heavy, plastered to me like a second, soggy skin. I was cold, wet and cranky. So, quite frankly, I didn’t fancy hiking all the way back to my apartment in the capital feeling like a drowned rat. The intel about me snatching the Black Blade from its case would reach the king’s ear before I could get my arse over the border to White Wing Territory, so I had a better chance of staying alive if I continued as my undercover persona.
Pain flared across my skin as he snatched up my wrists and cuffed them behind my back.
“Ouch! Don’t cuff them so tightly!” I shouted, looking over my shoulder.
He just shook his head at me, his hair bouncing in the light breeze. “Do you want to be tried before the court or the king?”
I chuckled softly. “The king.”
“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say–”
“I know my rights.”
Harvey had recited them to me often enough as kids when he held me in a leg lock after I had annoyed him one too many times.
Their laws were roughly the same as ours.
The sergeant nudged my back with his dagger, guiding me towards the military base stables.
He circled a hand in the air beside him as we walked, and it created a circular swirl of blue essence in front of his face. A hearing portal. Exactly like Zoe’s, magic.
He has magic? Okay, I’m starting to think this guy isn’t so defenceless.
He spoke into the magic portal as if it was connected to another place where someone could hear him. “Murben, you can call off the search. I’ve secured the intruder and I’m on my way to the stables to take her to the king.”
Murben is on duty at the military base?
What had the king’s bodyguard done this time to piss off his king?
The alarm screaming through the hearing portal stopped, thank the Spirits, because I was about to go deaf.
“Well done, Sergeant Davis. I’ll ride ahead to Black Castle and meet you there.”
I opened my mouth about to say hello to Murben, but Sergeant Davis lowered his hand to close the portal. The magic abruptly vanished and I nearly choked on my breath.
I snapped my head to the side, staring the sergeant down. “Tell Murben to show his miserable face. I’d like a word with him.”
He snorted and shoved the pommel of his dagger into my back. “Criminals don’t get to make requests on how they want to be treated.”
I blew aside a blue strand of hair that had fallen across my face. “Fine. Your funeral.”
I looked over my shoulder once more when he didn’t entertain my remark, neither did he shift his gaze to look at me. Yet, I was certain he was watching my every move and every twitch of my muscles in case I attempted to escape.
I noticed the Black Blade tucked into his belt and how muddy water had wetted his left sleeve up to his shoulder. When had he retrieved it without me noticing?
Oh, this guy is good.
“You look too cute to be a soldier. Where did you complete your training?”
His face was as hard as stone, honed with professionalism and duty. He didn’t offer any reply as he stared at me.
“In the Banaly province in the south, or here in Cathdear at the king’s training fort?”
Still nothing. He only narrowed his eyes for comfort as we walked facing the setting sun.
Fine. Don’t talk then. See what happens when we meet Murben.
The path over the field stretched beyond the compound’s grounds and the tallest buildings of the capital poked above the tree line in the distance. At the sight, my guilt tugged at my chest. What would happen to the sergeant if he brought me to the king and I’m in cuffs?
“One could say I know the king quite well. You may want to know that–”
“Save your negotiation for the king. You’ll need it. I hear he’s merciless.”
I sighed. He was right, and I had too much heart to let this man suffer the king’s wrath.
“If you’ll let me explain.”
“The next word that comes out of your mouth will be accompanied with a blade in your back.” I felt a pinch from the tip of his dagger.
My heart pounded harder because I actually believed him. An unfortunate misunderstanding could be the death of me if I disobeyed. No matter if it was to save him. Considering my family’s legacy, dying from being stabbed in the back would be ironic, but not the way I wanted to leave this world. With my honour being questioned when living, at least allow my death some dignity.
I pressed my lips into a line and remained silent, observing the woodland landscape on either side of me as we went past. The soldier led me towards the stables where a single horse waited, strapped to a carriage that resembled an iron box with a barred window on each side. Other soldiers busied around, seeming all worked up from the incident.
Sergeant Davis used his magic once more to create the sound portal. “Is the captor transport carriage for me, Denver?” he asked, pushing me towards the back doors.
“Hi Davis. Yes, Murben told me to prepare it for you. I have to saddle two more horses urgently, but I’ll be right out to help you.”
“No need. I’ve had a long day, and I want to get going, so I’ll handle it myself.”
Sergeant Davis opened the doors and gestured for me to get inside. I jumped in and turned to flash him a pitiful smile before he shut the doors. There was only a brief moment before the carriage started rocking along the country path. The iron was cold as I gripped the bars of a window and gazed out, savouring the countryside while I could. There was no telling when I would see it again. I guessed it depended on the king’s mood.
This province was beautiful. Simple cottages nestled between the trees. The green leaves and the post-rain scent of grass had brought people out into their gardens. It reminded me of our family cottage by the lake where I spent my summers to escape the outpost in Bensguard and the busy city life fanning out from it. The city in Bensguard had densely populated areas with row upon row of concrete building blocks and jam-packed multi-lane cobbled streets between them. Here in the countryside, I felt free…even if I was a captive in chains. I preferred it to the crowded city parks and shopping streets where white-wings flew busily about, both at ground level and in the sky, and shoppers poured out of stores with overflowing bags under their arms.
But who knew if I would ever return to the White Wing Territory? It was on the other side of the butterfly-shaped floating island where the mountain ridges acted as a spine to divide us. Black-wings to the east and white-wings to the west. Along our borders, we had built outposts and fences to defend ourselves from attacks by the black-wings. At the Bensguard Outpost was where I had grown up and lived all my life, as my father had served there as the general. That was until the Battle of Bensguard when my mother had turned our lives upside-down.
The hurt from remembering my mother’s betrayal was a distraction I couldn’t afford right now. One wrong move might trigger the throw-happy dagger-soldier to make good on his threat to kill me.
Black Castle loomed into view at the far end of the city, with a moat surrounding it and a large lake wrapping around its back garden. The country road panned out into cobbled streets and my brain rattled along to every bump in the road. In the jumpy view out through the window, I saw the streets I had mapped for the last two years, and knew like the back of my hand, just in case I couldn’t transport my physical maps to my brother at the end of my mission. Doubtlessly, my escape would need to be swift after killing the king.
The creaking hinges of the iron winged gates to the castle grounds let me know they were swinging open to let us through, and I waited for the carriage to park outside the rear entrance of Black Castle. The multi-pillared building poking the sky felt like a second home by now, having seen it for the first time two years ago. Its dark stone looked gloomy during the day and almost invisible at night. The fang-mouthed monstrous gargoyles, and the water that was coloured red before running along their spouts to resemble blood had once frightened me, but I barely noticed them anymore. The man ruling from inside of it did, though.
The carriage stopped and I almost lost my balance. Sergeant Davis opened the carriage door and snatched up the chain between my shackles to tug me outside. Murben came into view around the side of the carriage in his black leather uniform that was stuffed with blades. When he looked up, shock widened his eyes. There was no smile, no white teeth contrasting against his brown skin. Murben was a man of few words, but his presence was enough to make even the most seasoned warriors pay attention. His quiet demeanour and graceful presence made him seem like a figure out of a forgotten legend.
I flashed him a playful grin and chirped, “Hello Murben.”
Because although Murben resembled a war veteran with scars, tattoos, deep dark-brown eyes and charcoal-black hair, to me he had always been a soft-hearted teddy bear. He was tall, towering over most people, and his muscles always bulged through any top he was wearing. He came from a tribe living in the mountains in the far north of the Dormondar province, where no intruders dared to visit. All black-wings feared him because of it, and because he was the king’s bodyguard, enforcing the king’s bidding.
Murben dropped his chiselled jaw now though and turned his gaze sharply to stare at the sergeant. “What sick joke is this?”
Yep, someone would be writhing in pain in a matter of moments. The question was, would it be Sergeant Davis?
Bodyguard Murben?
Or me?
Until next Saturday,
Therese
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