The Firetongue Heir: Mages of Oblivion, #0.5

The Firetongue Heir

Elyse Thomson

Two Laurels Press

The Firetongue Heir

Copyright © 2023 by Lauren Thomson-Diks and Two Laurels Press

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except for the use of brief quotations in book reviews. The Author expressly prohibits the use of this work in any manner for purposes of training artificial intelligence technologies to generate text, including without limitation, technologies that are capable of generating works in the same style or genre as this work.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

For questions and comments about the quality of this book, please contact us at elysethomson.author@gmail.com

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-7388426-6-7 

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-7388426-7-4

Contents

Content Warnings

Glossary

Map

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Epilogue

Afterword

A Word From The Author

Content Warnings for Poisoned Empire

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Also By

Also By

Content Warnings

For my readers who prefer not to read the content warnings, please feel free to skip this section and dive right in.

For my readers who would prefer a list of content warnings before proceeding, I've provided what I hope to be a fairly substantive list below.

Content Warnings: Domestic violence/abuse, child abuse (historic), death, blood and gore, maiming, swearing, sexism, classism, animal death, consensual on-page sex.

Glossary

Royal Titles

King/Queen: Ruler of one of the kingdoms of Lethe (Arcadia, Kolkhis, Eleusis, Pontos, Temenos, Apollonia, Aeolia). Often co-rules with the heir to the throne. Addressed as Your Majesty.

Crown Prince/Crown Princess: Heir to the throne. Addressed as Your Royal Highness.

Prince/Princess: Child of the king and queen. Addressed as Your Highness.

Prince Consort/Princess Consort: Fiancé(e) or spouse of a prince/princess. Addressed as Your Radiance.

Noble Titles in Descending order of Rank

Illustrus: Male landowning nobleman with a significant estate and/or distinguished military service. No stylized form of address. Plural = Illustri

Illustra: Usually, the wife of an illustrus. Rarely, a landowning noblewoman with a significant estate and/or distinguished military service. No stylized form of address. Plural = Illustrae

Nobilissimus: Son of an illustrus or a minor nobleman with a small estate. No stylized form of address. Plural = Nobilissimi

Nobilissima: Usually, the daughter of an illustrus or wife of a nobilissimus. Rarely, a minor noblewoman with a small estate. No stylized form of address. Plural = Nobilissimae

Military Titles

Strategos: A general of a kingdom's military forces. Answers to the royal family directly.

Slang

Elemental: A mage with an elemental magical gift (water, fire, earth, air, light or darkness). Elemental gifts comprise the vast majority of mage gifts within Lethe, and are expected in all those of royal birth.

Elementalist: Elemental magic elitists who discriminate against those without elemental magical gifts (control of fire, water, earth, wind, lightning, darkness or light). They believe theirs is the superior form of magic.

Menial: A derogatory term for a mage without an elemental magical gift.

Feral: A derogatory term for beast mages.

Ignoble: A noble born without the expected elemental gift of their family bloodline.

To everyone who has championed my words,

This story is my gift to you.

Chapter 1

Darius was not a well-loved prince.

Being the youngest son of a despised tyrant, and the one responsible for the unenviable task of recruiting nobles for the war effort, meant few were willing to do more than respectfully get out of his way. It was why, though he stood between the ever-popular garum and spiced meat vendors, the spit and hiss of oil crackling all the while, every would-be patron had given him a wide berth. It also came as no surprise, as he leaned against the wall between the shops to tease the most beautiful woman in the city of Heraklia, that he was met with neither fawning nor flattery.

You’re nothing but a brawler, a reprobate and a flirt. I’ll have nothing to do with you!

Darius couldn’t help his grin. It opened the cut on his lower lip, which probably only proved Nadia’s point. At times like this, when he could see her fighting to keep her lips from quirking, her eyes alight, he felt like he’d won the greatest prize in the land.

But you like it when I flirt.

Nadia’s withering glare had felled lesser men. She looked down her long nose at him, pursing full lips, her hazel eyes darkening the longer their stalemate lasted. The mask she wore was impressive, but just that—a mask. Reaching out his hand, his calloused fingertips glided across her fawn-coloured cheeks as they heated. He tucked an errant strand of impossibly soft jet hair behind her ear and leaned in.

Besides, no one loves arguing with you as much as I do, he whispered.

The late afternoon sun blazed in the sky and the market street was a cacophony of colour and smells. At least near the food vendors, the aromas were pleasant. It was the perfect place to spend an hour in the company of the woman he most cherished while he avoided his royal duties.

Male groaning interrupted the moment. Darius curled his lip at the man just now staggering to his feet and climbing out of the cobbled roadway, where he had been holding up a produce-laden wagon. Traffic resumed, though passersby still gave the trio a wide berth.

Nadia leaned out of his touch, eyes mutinous but her cheeks blushing wildly.

Come along Phokas, I’m certain His Highness has other people to harass.

He started it, Darius muttered.

You attacked me! Phokas fumed, brushing dirt from his fine green robes and tunic.

You tripped over your fancy boots trying to get in the first swing. Darius rolled his eyes.

Because you were trying to seduce my sister!

At least Nadia’s irritating elder brother was right about one thing.

That two siblings could share so many of the same features while inspiring two such opposing feelings was a marvel. Only a shade above average height, both wore their long, black hair partially in elaborate braids, the rest falling down their backs. Nadia also wore fine, embroidered silks, a gown of beautiful turquoise and simple gold jewelry. One day, maybe she would wear the jewellery he would buy for her.

Unlike her brother, she was not a nattering fool.

He supposed next to them, in his dusty military leathers fresh from forcing a new sad group of young men into his father’s army, he looked exactly like the kind of ruffian Nadia thought him. His short beard a few days out from a proper trim, thick dark hair scraped back from his face in a messy pinned braid and the grime coating his terra-cotta complexion was probably not helping his cause. Still, he couldn’t help tweaking their noses.

I wasn’t trying, Phokas. I was succeeding. He winked at Nadia.

She huffed indignantly and turned away, though the tips of her ears were pink.

She is engaged, you mangy bastard! And to a man far better than you could ever dream of being. Persist in your delusions and I shall complain to King Barziya himself!

Nadia’s shoulders stiffened.

Well, there went his mood. Darius bit back a curse.

Phokas, don’t. Please. We’ll be late if we stay any longer. Nadia touched her brother’s hand and smiled, placating him. No one could resist her smile.

Oh, yes, I suppose you’re right. He patted her hand, giving her a wan smile. Then he turned back to Darius, a sneer on his face. My sister will always be too good for the likes of you, prince or not.

Darius’ only use was as breeding stock for his father’s precious elemental gift, one never to be squandered consorting with those whose bloodlines were tainted with anything but elemental magics. Families like Nadia’s. In truth, Phokas had the right of it. Darius could promise her nothing, his future forever held in his father’s iron fist, and the whole kingdom of Arcadia knew it.

Careful, Phokas, or I’ll be a good little prince and recruit you for the war like I’m supposed to.

That had the obnoxious man skittering off, dragging away the only good thing in the whole kingdom of Arcardia, probably in the whole of the continent of Lethe, too. He waited, watching as they left.

Look back, Nadia.

She turned her head, catching one last glimpse of him before they vanished around the nearest street corner. His heart leapt.

Success.

Even having to drag today’s sorry recruits back to King Barziya’s temporary residence couldn’t dampen his spirits. At least, that’s what he’d thought. As soon as he’d done so and gone to clean up after a long day, he was summoned to the king’s presence. It was an event that never boded well.

Darius strode down crowded palace halls bustling with harried servants and grim-faced noblemen. Scuffed, dusty mosaics decorated the floors while dirty, chipped frescoes coated the walls. There was no coin for the upkeep of such things, not with a war on and a king in residence. And King Barziya Firetongue was using his time here as much to muster a fighting force as to beggar the owner of the palace, Illustrus Heraklius Lithos, a man who had, decades ago, insulted Barziya before he’d claimed the crown of Arcadia. Never one to let a petty grudge die, Barziya was gleefully enjoying his revenge. By the time they left for Firetongue Keep in the East, the people of Heraklia’s palace would be