The Emerald Legend (Book 1)

Chapter Twenty-Two: Molten Petals

Amalia stepped lightly on the wet earth, furthering herself into the unknown plateau. Surrounding her was a thicket of saplings and hedges. The dark clouds blotted the skies; the light that came through was grey and dull. The air was damp and cold; much different than the hot steam that clung to her skin in the areas below.

Around thirty feet in front of her was a tall brilliant oak tree with branches that coiled in all directions. To her right, she saw a dwelling made from mud with potted plants gathered in the front of it. To the left of the plateau, she saw a small farm-garden where she could see an array of plants sprouting.

This place was quiet and serene—how contrasting it was to the mountainous paths she had faced. As she continued in past the coppice towards the entrance, she could see that this plateau was at the center of Mount Aga'ra. There were steep peaks in every direction blocking out any view of the towns and civilization that were behind her. There was also an eerie feeling to this place, almost as if she had been here before, in some sort of distant, far-off memory.

Seian walked with caution beside Amalia, taking in the sights and smells just as she was.

"What brave soul decided to conquer Aga'ra?" A voice came from behind them and Amalia spun around almost losing her footing. She saw a man with eyes hot like amber standing before her. Seian spun with her, almost jumping out of his skin and instinctively got into a defensive stance. "Either brave or half-witted; stepping onto this plateau with no sense of caution."

Amalia stood her ground against the wild-haired young man. He seemed to be in his mid-twenties and wore a long white coat that ended slightly above his knees. It had strings of silver embroidered into its seams and was matched with a pair of baggy silk-woven pants. His hands we're behind his back and he had a carefree smirk on his face, as if he were sincerely enjoying himself.

"Without caution?" She exhaled from exhaustion and looked to her rider. "Should I have my dagger unsheathed?"

The strange man smiled at her enthusiastic response. "Facing what you have down there," he gestured towards the narrow path. "I'm surprised it is not already."

"A dagger is no competition compared to a leopard of the snow."

"Perhaps—but a leopard of the snow is no competition for Aga'ra." He chuckled and looked at the large animal.

"Indeed, but rather together as one we were quite the competitor," she said and he seemed to be taken aback by the fact that she kept up with his banter.

"Apparently, that is so," he said with a smirk. Amalia drew her dagger and staked it into the earth making a statement that she had nothing to fear.

"I came to this place in search of a king."

He looked upon the dagger for a moment then back to her. "A king, you say?" His expression became a mischievous one. "What kind of king would live in a place such as this?" He looked around the plateau sarcastically.

"A Spirit King," she said. "Are you not such a king?"

"Perhaps I am a king," his smirk never faded. "Or, perhaps, I am not. Rather, if there were such a king upon these barren slopes, how would someone as—" he paused for a moment sizing her up. "Someone as fragile as you, come upon such knowledge?" His question not only deflected hers but it was a complete slap in her face.

"I saw his legend etched in Emerald Tablets," Amalia spoke, clearly irritated by him. "And, perhaps you should not be so quick to judge one by their appearance, your may-or-may-not-be, Highness."