The Hybrid Princess Read online

  The Hybrid Princess

  The Daemons Origin Book 1

  By

  Latrisha Holmes

  Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

   Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 1

  The Terra Princess

   A soft angelic voice sang to her in the darkness. The rhythmic lullaby ended abruptly as the sound of a familiar husky voice interrupted the woman. His wiry beard scratch at her face as her father mumbled something she could not understand. Her father was the only thing recognizable to her as she surveyed the mysterious land. Bright blue flame encircled them as the shadows of red-eyed daemons closed in on them. Neala’s vision changed, and she was now cradled in her father’s arms, fleeing by horseback. Ahead of them was the cold Mammoth Peaks, but behind them, the blue flame took the shape of a giant flying creature that was racing after them. The last thing that she remembered was the anguished screams of the shadowed angel.

  Neala shot up in bed, dripping in sweat from the vivid dream. The warmth of the flames still lingered on her skin. A stark contrast to her present environment. Inside the Mammoth Peaks, that kind of warmth didn’t exist. This is not the first time she has had this dream. Her thoughts lingered on the woman. She couldn't recall her face, but Neala knew it was not a voice that lived inside these mountains.

  Giving up on the mysterious woman, Neala wiped the sweat from her brow and looked out her windows for the sun’s rays, praying that it would still be dark, longing to go back to sleep, but sky had lightened over the peaks, signaling the start of the day. The fire had gone out too, with just soft puffs of smoke hanging in the fireplace. Even under her thick bear hide, the sharp icy air, chilled her bones and made her shiver. Between the cold and fear of another lecture from her father, this motivated her to roll out of bed.

  She forced herself to stand up and stretched the stiffness of the night away. Tip toeing, she dressed, slipped on her boots and pulled over a heavy bison coat, then made her way out of the room. Neala crept down the castle tower, jumping over the squeaky boards. She passed by her brothers’ level, listening at the door to see if she would beat him to the dining hall. Soft regular snores told her she was still the reigning breakfast champion. She continued down the tower until she hit her fathers’ level. His door was ajar. Neala smiled, there was never a time that she was awake before him.

  When she got to the landing, Neala tied up her hair and wrapped it in a forest green scarf. She peaked into a nearby mirror, rubbing her eyes free of sleep and making sure that her red locks didn't show through the scarf. With one final check and straightening of her outfit, she felt confident enough to face the other Terra daemons.

   As she approached the hall doors, she heard the familiar chatter of people talking, eating, and getting ready for the day. When she pushed the heavy doors open, all that happy chatter stopped as Neala walked in. The warriors at the nearest table rose and pounded their fists to their chests in salute before returning to their food. Passing the other tables, the staff nodded as she walked by. Neala averted her eyes, walking tall and looking ahead as she strode to the royal table. It was on a platform above the rest, only intended for the royal family, their guests, and the elder council.

   This morning there was only the old medicine woman sitting at the table. She smiled when Neala approached and stood up to kiss her cheeks. She was a tiny hunched over woman, with leathery skin and wrinkles that covered her face, only showing her eyes if she smiled. The shakes had taken over her body and voice at this age, but she was still mentally sharp as ever. Neala returned the greeting and gave her frail body a hug.

   “I trust you s-slept well my dear?” She asked in a voice as soft as a whisper, her watery eyes glistening.

   “Yes, mum.” Neala said, fearing the old woman was reading her thoughts and know about the recurring dream. The woman eyed her for too long before she resolved not to pry.

   “Well, I will b-be teaching this afternoon’s botany class. As we continue to explore the healing plants, I expect you to do well. P-please remember to speak up this time.” She said, sitting back down, resuming her morning meal in silence.

   Neala followed suit and sat down for her breakfast too but studied the scene before her. Watching people was something she found fascinating. She learned a lot about the other daemons around her. They were all similar in appearance, dark hair, light brown skin, and for those that have seen their changing moon, emerald green eyes. A stark contrast to Neala’s own appearance, something she was always aware of when she looked at the group. Peering down to the other tables, she saw that the house staff, gardeners, and builders were all eating together. They were boisterous and lighthearted. The gardeners were the first to excuse themselves and head to off work in the fields or greenhouses. The warriors huddled up together and wore hard, somber faces, hardly speaking. Some villagers and children had made their way in to eat, but most would trickle in after Neala had to leave for training.

   Neala finished eating and cleaned up her plate before heading out of the castle for her first morning class. They held their first class of the morning in the armory where they were continuing their work with weaponry and combat skills. Neala was a rather gifted archer, which kept her spirits high for the morning. She had almost made it to the armory before something crashed into the back of her head. Neala turned around, searching for the source of her pain and rubbing the back of her head. Neala removed her hand as the smell of horse manure hit her nostrils.

   “Oh, sorry Princess I thought we were being invaded by Pyre!” a boy that Neala recognized from class, brushed past her with a wide grin, his buddy tailing him snickering. Before Neala could defend herself, a rock whistled past, hitting the kid in the back.

   “Arrgh!” The boy hollered, and he turned to face Neala. Instead, he came face to face with a tall raven-haired beauty, red in the face with another rock posed to strike.

   “Callista! We were just playing, no need to go all crazy on us.” The boy yelled, rubbing his head.

   “If you ever disrespect the Princess like that again, I will show you all the crazy I have. You are lucky I haven’t seen my changing moon, or you would be dead where you stand.” Callista growled. The boys shifted and scampered off.

   “Are you ok Nia?” Callista asked, brushing the rest of the manure off.

   “Yeah. A little horse extract never hurt, right?” Neala replied, trying to deflect the burning embarrassment threatening to turn into tears.

   “You should tell your father what these little shits do to you. You don’t deserve this and damn well shouldn’t put up with it.” Callista said, it was not the first time Neala had heard this lecture from her.

   “Maybe, I will take matters into my own hands and let one of my arrows slip today?” Nia said smiling. Callista’s presence always had a way of making Neala feel better.

   The girls entered the armory last. The crowd blocked their view of the training grounds. Callista nodded up to the straw bales, and they climbed up looking to see who their instructor would be for the day.

   “Ah its Merek, we must be using spears.” Callista whispered.

   Sure enough, the warrior sauntered in, paying no notice to the class that had been waiting for him.

   “Palm up, wrist loaded, don’t grab the hand
le, shoulder pointed at your target, then rotate your shoulders, snap your wrist and follow through with your hips.” The gruff warrior was shorter than most of the students, but that didn’t stop him from being the most intimidating man in the room. Merek wore the traditional Terra warrior mohawk with long braided russet hair streaked with grey.

   For the rest of the class he split them up into pairs to practice their spear throwing at targets and dummies. They had already gone over where the vital kill shots were in archery. Callista was a natural at it, not surprising Neala. Callista had always been athletic and seemed to pick things up with ease. Unlike Neala, who was too skinny and looked like a newborn calf when trying to do anything physical.

   “Nice shot Callista, perfect form. Look at that, almost hit the heart. I’d gather it would still have killed him.” Merek chuckled at his own attempt at a joke, but cleared his throat when he saw Callista wasn’t laughing.

   “Princess, why don’t you give it a shot? Maybe you will take after Tyee. One of my finest students, if I say so.” Merek said.

   Neala grabbed up the spear with trembling hands, looking over her shoulder to the crowd that had taken an interest in watching her. She grasped her spear tight, trying not to let her sweaty palms let it slip. Taking aim at the straw dummy, she cocked back the spear, gripping the shaft tightly. She took two large steps forward and put her full force into the throw. Her grip didn’t loosen, and the spear took a nosedive straight into the ground in front of her. Neala vaulted into the air, landing with a soft crash sprawled out in the mud. The crowd roared with laughter, Merek’s being the loudest, as Neala lay on the ground cursing at herself.

   “Well, maybe this afternoon will be more your forte?” Merek said and walked back to the rest of the groups.

   “Are you ok? Don’t listen to them. He was breathing down your neck to make you nervous. That’s all, you can do it.” Callista said, pulling Neala back to her feet.

   “Maybe I am human like they say and that’s why I can’t walk without tripping over air.” Neala said, fighting back the pain surfacing to her eyes for the second time this morning.

   “I will not watch you wallow today, Nia. You are a Princess, daughter of the King Kendrick, the most powerful Daemon King in history. No one else in this forgotten land can say that. No one else here gets to go to the trades. If you want someone to feel sorry for you, it’s not me.” Callista said a hint of bitterness to her tone.

   “You can’t still be mad about that! I asked him and he said, ‘Royals and warriors only,’ Tyee isn’t even going.” Neala said. Callista’s face brightened a little.

   “Tyee will still be here, without your father? Do you think I will get him alone?” Callista said hopefully, already forgetting that she was angry about not leaving the mountains. Neala didn’t blame her for being mad. The King had sealed the entire village inside these mountains since she was a baby. Mammoth Peaks, as they called their fortress, was as high as the first clouds and all the Terra daemons were forbidden to leave without permission or face banishment. The King only allowed them out for hunting missions, to scare off Pyre scouts, or when the Royals travelled to the yearly trades at the sea.

   “Come on, not that pile of horse dung!” Neala said, pinching her nose and scrunching up her face in pretend disgust. For as long as she could remember, Callista followed Tyee around with puppy dog eyes. In fact, sometimes Neala thought her brother was the only reason they became friends.

   “Nothing would make me happier than to be Mrs. Horse Dung!” Callista proclaimed, ignoring the jealous looks from the boys nearest to them.

   After a few more humiliating shots at the abused straw bales, it was time for lunch and to prepare for afternoon classes. The girls ate in private, trying to soak up the little sun they received. In the mountains, they only had sun a third of the day. By lunch time, the sun had crept close to the jagged horizon, which created deep shadows over the land. Callista was now going on about her daydreaming of the other daemons that Neala would meet during the trades. She was talking so much that they didn’t hear the heavy footsteps sneak up behind them.

   “You are making the Avians seem too God-like. They are little more than pesky pigeons that can make the wind blow.” The deep voice said.

   Neala jumped up and faced the tall shadow of her brother Tyee. He broke into a wide smile, showing his pearl white teeth. He had hard handsome features; bronzed skin and wore his jet-black hair like the other warriors, only his mohawk was shoulder length, and he didn’t bother braiding it most of the time.

   Callista scrambled to her feet, looking as clumsy as Neala did at spearing. The odd sight from the graceful person made Neala burst out in an uncontrollable fit of laughter.

   “Your Grace they are nothing compared to such a strong Terra like yourself.” Callista said, bowing so low her hair brushed the ground.

   “No need for flattery Calli, I am not King yet. Nia, father sends a message you are to attend the apprentice ceremony tonight. It’s a formal affair, so no furs, or leathers. He also requires your presence. Maybe you can sort Nia out.” Tyee said, with a wink to Callista.

   Neala couldn’t tell if Callista was blushing with embarrassment or that Tyee had called her by her preferred name. Tyee didn’t let her sweat it out too long as he bowed and took his leave.

   “Well Cali, looks like we are being placed. Will you come over and help me get ready? You will be my guest of honor, so you can sit next to my brother.” Neala said, snapping Callista out of her hormone driven gaze.

   “Wherever that man is I will go.” Callista sat back down. They spent the rest of their break with Callista going over every play-by-play moment of her encounter with Tyee. By the end, Neala was begging for a distraction.

   They packed up their lunch when they saw the rest of the class make their way to the greenhouse. Neala and Callista tagged behind the rest of the class, trying to avoid any more confrontations. The young daemons piled in the cramped glass covered room. It smelled of a mix of dirt, herbs, and floral fragrance. The girls chose a table in the back nearest the door.

   The bent over medicine woman was all ready and had laid before her a sample of various plants and some stone tools.

   “Good afternoon ch-changelings!” She said in a high, shaky voice.

   “Good afternoon, Madame Della.” The class said together. The little woman clapped and lit up.

   “Yes, yes. And n-now let’s see what you remembered from last week. Who can tell me what this little f-flower is?” Della said, scanning the blank faces. “No one? Neala, what is this f-flower and what is it for?”

   “That is Feverfew Madame. We use it for migraines and for upset stomachs, although there are better plants for that.” Neala said, staring at the floor. A familiar rush of warmth spread to her cheeks and ears. That happened whenever she was the center of attention.

   “Yes, yes.” Della said, smiling. “Then what p-plants would be better for an upset s-stomach?”

   “Ginger would be the best one, but caraway and peppermint work well. It would depend on the cause of your stomach ailments, Madame Della.” Neala said, now wishing that she could be anywhere else, even if it was with Callista, swooning over Tyee again.

   “N-now class, what remedy do we give for pleurexia?” Della said, scanning the room before landing her eyes on Neala once again.

   “You can make an immune tea, use mist, percussion.” Neala said, staring up at the ceiling, avoiding eye contact with the other students.

   To her great relief, Della must have taken the cue from Neala’s body language and moved on to quiz her other classmates. She finished with the plants on the table and then went into explaining the stone tools and how to make the plants into tinctures and teas. Della let the class practice for the remaining time. Neala showed Callista how to make a digestive tea out with ginger, milk thistle, peppermint, and artichoke.

   “Well, that was fun.” Neala said as
she cleaned up their table.

   “If you think that was fun, I need to get you out of the castle more.” Callista said, watching. “So, where do you think they will place us? I thought they might put me in the kitchen with my mother.”

   “With your skills in combat training, you take after your father. I’m sure they will put you with the warriors.” Neala said. Callista's face turned somber at the mention of her father.

   “They will put me with the gardeners, I know it. I am nothing like my parents.” Neala said, changing the subject.

   “Are you kidding? They won’t put a royal with the Gardiners. I am sure they will find something more dignified for you, even if you don’t have the skills for it.” Callista said with a crooked smile and elbowed Neala.

   “Wherever we go, nothing can come between us, agreed?” Neala became serious. “I can’t bear the thought of not being close to you.”

   Callista stopped, facing Neala and grabbing her hands.

   “Just like my father was to your father, so I will be for you. I will always be there to protect you.” Callista’s black eyes locked onto hers, making her feel reassured.

   After class was over, the two walked hand in hand back up the trail and bid their farewells. Neala watched as Callista took the path back to the village. When she was out of sight, Neala made the lonely trek back up to the castle. Her thoughts were consumed by the events of the day. “I don’t know what I would do without her.” Neala thought.

  Chapter 2

  The Apprentice

  “Nia!” A thunderous voice boomed ahead of her. Only three people in the world called her that, and no one else’s voice held such authority.

   “Father!” She ran the rest of the way and jumped into his outstretched arms. This was her safe space; the only place people couldn’t hurt her. “Especially not young juvenile tar heads.” She thought.