Destiny by Jason A. Cheek Read Free Book Online Page B

alcove, Lúthien thought of her grandmother’s death. It was almost eight years ago to the day since she’d found her bloody half-eaten body. Over the preceding years, Lúthien had buried herself in her studies as she desperately tried to understand how and why her grandmother had been murdered in the heart of the Clan’s fortress. While most of the Elves she knew had focused their hate on the factions of the dissolved Alliance of Aurenko or the growing rift with the Wild Clan, she’d buried herself in learning the truth of the Tuonellian threat that everyone had suddenly forgotten. Nowadays, It seemed like the only time she ever had any real fun was when her cousins came to visit for their yearly Herra Samkoma. Thankfully her father had chosen to at least honor that tradition.
    Silently popping the hidden door open, Lúthien slid into the room gently sealing the passageway behind her once again. The doorway stood opposite the single low window, which was perfectly positioned at this time of day for catching the midday sun. Standing in the middle of the alcove, Lúthien let the sun’s rays soak into her fair skin.
    The relationship between the Council of Elders and the King of the High Clan was somewhat convoluted. Throughout her people’s long history, the High Clan had been the de facto rulers of all Elves. High Elves lived longer than the other Clans. Their magic was greater and their social structure more advanced than that of their forest dwelling brethren. But, over the millennium the individual clans grew to be unsatisfied with following the High Clan’s edicts and over time the Council of Elders had been formed. There were still conflicts, but at least the Council helped to mediate the disagreements between the clans and the King within Elven society. During this time the Herra Samkoma and Herr Samkoma had been formed. Yearly gatherings for the female and male children of the clan’s ruling families. The hope was that familiarity and education of the differences between the clans would help to ease the growing cultural tensions within their society.
    Initially the yearly gatherings had helped to reduce the dissension between the clans to a degree. A prime example of this had been Lúthien’s and Enelya’s relationship. When they were young the two of them had been inseparable. Even though they only saw each other once a month out of the year, they’d always been there for one another. She didn’t know if it was the constant threat of annihilation from the Tuonellian invasion that had made them so close when they were younger, or just that they were growing apart as they aged. Sadly this last year seemed to have changed them all so very much. Even so, she still loved her cousin.
    Creeping to the edge of the stairwell, Lúthien listened intently as her body warmed up from the rays of the sun. Hearing no one coming up the steps she plopped down near the entranceway. Reaching for her spell book, Lúthien stopped in midmotion feeling something wet and sticky underneath her hand. Holding up her palm, she looked at her hand in confusion.
    “Why was it red?” Looking closer at the dark marble floor, Lúthien realized the stuff was everywhere. Twisting around, she followed the red trail down the corridor with her eyes sniffing her hand unconsciously. Freezing, she immediately recognized the metallic scent. It was blood!
    Rising to her feet in a daze she trailed the smeared blood down the corridor. Rounding the corner, she followed the path into her father’s library as if in a trance. Entering through the doorway, Lúthien came to a sudden stop as she saw her mother’s blood-soaked face staring back at her. Rushing to her mother’s side, Lúthien dropped to her knees gathering the broken body in her arms. Ragged sobs shook her as she rocked back and forth silently screaming. Her mind numb from shock.
    Lúthien could barely see through the tears streaming down her face as she gently turned her mother over. Her