Three Broken Kingdoms-Book 1 of the Lost Continent (Completed)

Chapter Seven: The Coward

Jasper's Point of View

When the general called Jasper over, he wondered if he had time to run. No. Almost certainly not.

"The Empress Medea wants to see you," the general repeated with a nasty grin. "Don't keep her waiting."

No. This was bad for so many reasons that he couldn't keep his head straight and think through them. The Empress of Kallias—ruler of a land that stretched from the coastal cities in the north to the bottom of the southern territories-wanted to see him.

"Jasper," someone reminded him sharply, and he took a deep breath. Maybe this wasn't bad. Maybe there was a good reason for a tyrannical, half-insane empress to want to talk to him. Maybe they'd discuss the weather over tea and biscuits. Or maybe she would order his head cut off.

Jasper swallowed. Witch-blessed or not, Medea was just a person-a person in control of an army that numbered in the hundreds of thousands. An army that now surrounded him.

Jasper hadn't wanted to end up part of her ruthless military. But it had been that or death, like so many conscripted.

As he entered the great black fortress in the middle of the army's camp, he took three deep, steadying breaths. An imperial summons—could that mean anything short of death? He was a Captain in her army. Maybe this was a war meeting. Though the thought of that-of actually going to war was almost as frightening as the idea of execution. Especially when their only neighbours were the ruthless valkyrie warriors to the north and the elfin sorcerers in the northeast and northwest.

"Captain Merson," one of the guards at the entrance to the makeshift throne room said, voice bored. He crossed off a name on his list and let him enter.

When Jasper found the room filled to the brim with generals, a part of him relaxed—just slightly. There was no reason for them to be here if he was meant to die today. Despite the raised eyebrows and surprise across many of their faces. And Medea, in the centre of the room, her black-as-night eyes fixed on him.

"Captain Merson has shown his potential," she told the generals, answering their silent questions. "I believe that he should be here, to discuss the upcoming war with us."

War. Against whom?

"The valkyries and the elves have long hated us," Medea announced. "To them, we have always been weak. Ants at their feet. And so, they will not be prepared to face our armies when we come for them."

Burning sun. Even Medea could not be so insane as to willingly face the God-Born. Could she?

"With the shield, the elves should be neutralised," Medea continued, oblivious to the shock on his face. "Their magic cannot get past it."

"Enter," she replied, and the doors swung open.

"The rebels intend to intercept the prison wagons, Your Majesty," one of the men guarding the door blurted. "We've had word from your spies about it."

"Well, then. It seems Merson has a job to do."

And just like that, Jasper's carefully balanced world tilted and plunged down, sending him flying into an endless abyss.

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A war. With the valkyries. With the elves. He wondered if he was still breathing right.

The sun rose, bleeding out onto the sky and draping the world in red. The sight of it brought back everything Jasper had tried to push down. Memories. Memories that only grew worse as he put on iron armour and a cloak of deepest black. Memories that would haunt him worst today.