All Chapters of Twisted Is The Crown: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

P E Y R I A N   B I O R D   The young man’s thirst for power was never one easily quelled. From a young age Peyrian Biord wanted nothing more than to sit on every throne across the vast lands of the ten kingdoms, and he would continue on to fulfil his wish by any means necessary, in this case, using the dreaded isiya.From using isiya, Peyrian was testing powers greater than himself. He tested the gods themselves, and despite being ostracized and exiled from his village on the coast of Vaegon, Gaia, he continued getting isiya. Every time he got one an ugly, writhing scar appeared somewhere on his body, but luckily never his face.He grew in power from there, seizing control of entire kingdoms like midday toys. It was said that wherever Peyrian went, famine followed. In the words of some who had the displeasure to see the dark god in person, they said it was like the darkness moved with him, and he was always shrouded in so

“THREE MEN. JUST BEYOND THE palace borders.”  Father says, his words slurred. He’s more focused on the wine glass at his fingertips than the dead men he’s talking about. Topics like this always make my stomach churn, and I can see the same expression on Lahle’s face, although she manages to hide it better. I turn my attention to other things, like the ornate candelabra high up on the intricately designed ceiling of the dinner room, or the people seated at the dining table itself.  Lahle sits directly opposite me, the topaz glow of the candles on the wall reflecting on her dark skin. Her embroidered silk kaftan sits loosely on her petite frame, and her pearled headdress is far too extravagant for her. Not that she minds, though. She wears her beads that carry the monarchy’s symbol, an encrusted fyrebird, with pride.  Beside Lahle is Lady Niera, father’s sister. She is a plump brown skinned woman wearin

THE SCARS OF THE ISIYA are impossible to hide. It doesn’t matter how much concealer you cake on the wound, it will always shine true. I’ve grown found of my scar, although thinking about it brings me back to that mind numbing pain I try so hard to forget. My handmaiden, Gretel, puts the finishing touches on my hairstyle, setting the jeweled crown on my head. I see her smile through the mirror before me. Its infectious.  She does a good job, and I silently admire myself. The scar is still painfully obvious. It reaches my left eye—now my blind eye—and curves towards the nape of my neck. An ugly thing it is, but as its not possible to remove or hide it as you would a mole or scab, I’ve grown used to it.  Sometimes the people at my court ask where the scar came from. Its always one lie or the other. Run in with a deer, an attempt at harming myself, maybe I slipped and fell down the stairs. Only two have ever discovered the reality of the scar. &nbs

“QUILL, ARE  YOU SURE YOU don’t want to practice one more time?” Lahle says as we both trudge along the beachside. Seagulls fly high in the air as the smell of seaweed hits our noses. Behind us is the palace, draped in vinery and gold arches. It sits just beyond a high cinderblock wall, and I can almost imagine father watching us through the window.  “I have practiced through the night already, Lahle.” I say. “I’m ready to show her.”  “You should listen, Quill. I’m older and I have way more life experience—”  “You’re eight, Lahle. And not even by a full year.”  “Fine then.” She smiles, digging her feet into the sand. “But when your trick backfires...”  “Its not going to. I’m good at tiding.”  “Says who exactly?” She smiles, raising her eyebrows. “You could barely move a cup of water only a year ago.”  “You have a brain like an elephant.” “Thank you for the comp

“YOU DONT HAVE TO DO this, you know.”  The old man says, tugging on the hem of my coat. Almost two nights of staying in this small camp and I still haven’t bothered to learn his name.  I raise an eyebrow. “Elaborate.” “Kamara,” he whispers. “I don’t want it to seem like we’re dumping her on you. And wont the court ask questions? The queen vanishes for two days and returns with a little girl?”  I smile. “I have the court wrapped round my finger. They would think twice before questioning me.”  “I heard. Gossip spreads like wildfire in Vahaltmir. Especially here in Samba.” He rolls his eyes. “Even down in the Isiya camp, we know what happens above.”  I raise my chin. “I do this because you have helped me a lot. Your business is going to fall on terrible times come two new customers. The least I can do is make one if your children’s lives less horrendous.”  The man furrows h