Hive Knight: A Dark Fantasy LitRPG (Trinity of the Hive Book 1) Grayson Sinclair (book recommendations website .TXT) 📖

I found myself in a dwelling, the likes of which I’d never seen before. It reminded me of the houses the elves lived in, but the elves were a practical race, and the residence I found myself in reeked of affluent wealth.

It was as if the house had been carved from a tree, one so large it could fit the entirety of Castle Gloom-Harbor inside it and still have room left over. The furniture looked like it had been sprouted from the very wood itself and was so finely carved and detailed, it put my own woodworking skills to shame. I could have spent a hundred years perfecting my craft, and I could never hope to match the quality of even the lowest barstool in the kitchen.

A chandelier hung fifty feet overhead and slithered like roots coming alive and forming the pattern of a rose. Mana crystals were sunk into the roots and shone brilliant blue-white light down on the entire house.

Eris, a young version of Eris, perhaps four or five, sat at a table in the kitchen, eating. On the table was a plate of food, and a vase of fresh flowers, arranged in a beautiful display. Eris reached for her drink, a crystal cup of water, and accidentally bumped the vase with her hand. It tipped over with a silent crash and spilled water and flowers over the table as the porcelain vase broke into several large pieces.

Before she could even rise from her seat to clean up the mess, a man appeared. He was an older entomancer. Tall and handsome, with broad cheeks and a chiseled jaw. His light brown hair was long and pulled back out of his face in a ponytail. He was well built; the bulging veins in his arms were surrounded by pure, functional muscle. But what struck me most about his features were his eyes.

His eyes were a pale cobalt that shone in the light, while his irises were pure black. I didn’t know who this man was, but I was immediately put off by his presence. He was most likely Eris’s father, but he unsettled me in a way few could manage.

The man took one look at the mess, and rage clouded his face. He marched over to the table, yanked Eris out of her chair, and slapped her across the face.

She reeled from the shock, her face already reddening from the impact. Tears welled in her eyes as the man shouted wordlessly at her and pointed at the mess, the water from the vase spilling over the table to drip on the rich hardwood floor.

With a shove, he released Eris, and she crumpled to the floor, though still, she did not cry. Only when the man stormed off, and she was alone did she let the tears fall. Eris curled in on herself and sobbed.

Pure hatred filled me as the scene unfolded. I wanted nothing more than to scoop her in my arms and tell her everything would be all right, but I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. I could only watch as she silently picked herself up and wiped the tears from her face.

The vision faded after that, the edge of my sight distorting and going black before a new memory unfolded in front of me.

I found myself in a well-lit room. The stone that comprised the room was white marble, perfectly smooth, and even. Lit torch sconces lined the walls as twilight streamed through open windows. From my viewpoint, I could see the tops of trees, thick and unending as far as the eye could see.

I returned my attention to the room; it was packed with entomancers. Every color of the rainbow was reflected in the eyes of the well-dressed men and women here.

They all stood lined up on either side of an empty throne—a few dozen or so at most. There was a thick white and gold rug that lined the floor, which stretched from the throne to the entrance of the room.

The dark wooden doors at the entrance of the room opened, and a team of warriors in heavy black plate marched in on either side of the door. Followed shortly after by a few important-looking men garbed in beautiful clothes. Though the style was unusual: green flowing tunics with most of the chest bared and dark mantling that draped about their shoulders.

As the next guest entered the room, all eyes were on her.

She was beautiful.

By every form of the word, she was beautiful.

Long silken hair cascaded down her back like a golden waterfall and fell behind her long ears. Her cheekbones were high on her face and were sharp enough that I expected her face to start bleeding. She had the face of someone who demanded much and received everything she asked for.

As with every other member of the entomancer race, the most captivating aspect of her visage was her insectoid eyes. The held a bottomless pit of black at the far edges fading to a beautiful golden yellow, before returning to pitch black for her irises. Her eyes held the same pattern as the stripes on a bumblebee. Though the woman walking toward the throne was far more dangerous than any bee. She held an air of power about her that chilled me to the bone.

I knew immediately who she was. Eris was reflected in her features, though where Eris was soft and kind, this woman was a knife. Sharp and deadly.

As she turned to gaze at the patrons who came to watch the coronation—for it was obvious that’s what this was—her eyes for the barest moment flicked to gaze directly at me. A bolt of fear shot through me, and I withered under the intensity of her gaze.

Then her eyes left mine, and everything returned to normal. The fear drained out of me and left me weak.