The Woven Crown (Completed)

Prologue

Some kingdoms are meant to fall. They've filled their time in history; their rulers, people, and philosophies have been spent. They wither and dry up like puddles in the beating rays of change, and new ways of life, new ideas are born to fill their place.

The kingdom of Religo was not ready to fade; it was not its time. But fall, it did.

It began when the first guard slipped to the ground, red blooming from a slit in his throat. More followed as silent shadows stole further into the castle grounds where the council members slept. One council member was not in his bed, but up pacing the room where he'd held a meeting earlier that day.

Nolan tugged at his red beard, muttering to himself. Why won't they listen? Mounting tensions between the Woven and the common-born are not something we can continue to ignore. The danger continues to rise each day, but they refuse to accept it! There had been nasty fighting in the streets earlier and he'd heard rumors of riots. The only thing his meeting had produced was a few more guards stationed outside of the Woven nursery. That's when he'd decided to start making his own preparations.

The sound of glass crashing somewhere in the distance caused Nolan to pause his pacing. Had the riots already reached the castle walls? He wrenched the door open and dashed out into the passageway. Screams erupted from deep inside the castle as guards came streaming through the hall. Nolan took off after the guards to follow the sound of the disturbance. It was too late for the four council members they found slain in their beds, eyes open and glassy with surprise.

It had begun.

He tried to swallow his panic and focus. The nursery! If one thing could be saved, the children had to be it. The red-bearded councilman tore himself away from the bed chambers of his slain colleagues and began sprinting towards the nursery.

The castle had awoken and confused people in various states of undress were running through the halls. No longer needing their stealth, rebels came bursting from all corners of the castle and more were flooding through opened gates. Chaos devoured the castle and its inhabitants, but Nolan kept running.

Through the windows, he saw flames licking around the roof of the School. "Jae!" His wife was a teacher at the School and had been working late in her office, sleep evading the both of them. Fear settled in his stomach as window after window flashed by, the fire growing larger each time. He felt helpless watching the building containing his wife and countless students being engulfed in flames, but he knew he couldn't stop.

The sound of crashing metal echoed down the halls spattered with blood and already littered with the dead. A rebel came barreling at him from an adjacent doorway and he was forced to stop and dodge a strike from his sword. Nolan spun and barely evaded another strike but was quickly losing ground. He was a Threader and not one accustomed to using his magic in a fight, but his wife had shown him a few tricks. He caught the man's wrist as it flew past his face and sent a crackling jolt through his fingertips. The man cried out in pain and dropped his sword. Nolan ducked, catching the fallen weapon, and with one fluid twist, drove it upwards. The warm, sticky blood poured over his shaking hand, signaling his victory.

"Dirty bastards," came a gruff voice behind him. A steady hand caught his arm as he stood up.

"Gahreth! Thank the gods!" Nolan threw his arm briefly around his friend's massive shoulders. A couple of guards were close behind. "I tried to warn them this would happen, I..."

"It's too late," Gahreth looked like he'd aged ten years. Pain and anger blazed in his eyes. "Ashemore's been sighted, sword in hand, leading the rebels through the gates." Alden Ashemore was a councilman alongside Nolan and his wife. Nolan had expected an uprising, but nothing could have prepared him for this betrayal. Without another word, they all took off towards the nursery.

When they arrived, the extra guards were already fighting for the small lives that lay squalling in alarm just behind the door. Gahreth cut a swath into the fray and called to the men who followed him. "Remember your instructions! Hurry, I'll hold the door!" It was part of the hasty plan he and Nolan had thrown together. The men streamed into the room, each scooping up the closest baby without a pause and running for the narrow passage concealed by a tapestry on the opposite wall.

The number of babies far outweighed the number of men. Nolan did his best to help defend the door, but they were beaten backwards, and rebels came pouring into the room, screaming with fury and blood lust. A few took off after the men through the tapestry, but Gahreth's sword cut most down before they reached the entrance.

Nolan snatched up a wailing baby with soft curls the same bright color of his beard. He placed a hand over her and closed his eyes briefly in concentration. In his mind's eye, silver threads spun from his fingertips, weaving through the space around the baby to create a glowing fabric. The magic done, he opened his eyes. Nolan had used the only moment he had and was now holding her with one arm while his other defended blow after blow from his assailants. He tried not to look at what was happening to the babies he could not reach.

"Gahreth! Take her, quick!" he gasped at the man he knew had a better chance of surviving this slaughter. Gareth fought his way over to the councilman. "Here, I've got her," Gahreth said as he held out a blood soaked arm for the wailing bundle. There was a pause in the battle as more castle guards fought their way to defend the door. The councilman looked into Gahreth's eyes, begging him. "Please..." his voice rasped and broke with the agony of an urgent goodbye, "Please keep her safe, Gahreth, I—"

"I know," said Gahreth simply. Nolan had time to brush his lips against the baby's hot forehead before another wave of rebels burst into the room. Gahreth paused at the doorway. Nolan saw that it took all his friend's remaining strength to leave behind his life-long partner, standing alone against a swarm of rebels, the helpless wails of babes coming from what was left of the nursery.

He slipped behind the tapestry and was gone.