Page 78 of Wicked Depths

A group of forest kin—creatures both beastly and clever—line the walls in rigid silence, waiting and watching with dark, knowing gazes. One among them, a lithe creature with tufted ears and branching antlers, steps forward.

“U-um, m-my queen?” the small creature pipes up, voice trembling like a leaf. “W-we’ve seen the human armies b-building fortifications. N-new outposts keep popping up e-every day, and we suspect they’re preparing to march in just a few days…”

Murmurs ripple through the chamber. Another of the forest kin, this one sporting glimmering scales along its arms, speaks up. “We've spotted that sea witch among the king’s men, my queen,” the dwarf kin rumbles, his voice gruff. “And she walks free—doesn’t look like any prisoner I’ve seen.”

My claws dig into the obsidian table. “So she walks freely.”

They nod in unison, uneasy tension radiating through their ranks. There is no question who this “she” is.

Morrin clears his throat, stepping into the circle of flickering torchlight. “We need to strike first,” he insists, his voice sharper than steel. “Your people have held out for days, but we cannot keep fighting smaller battles like this. The humans are gaining ground.”

My eyes snap to him. “No. Let them come.”

The room stills. Even the torches seem to dim.

Morrin’s beady black eyes narrow as he studies the map. “So, we hold our ground behind these walls, Nyxara?”

A scaled Sentinel, fresh from the western front, interjects, voice tight with worry. “With respect, my queen, some of our people fear that letting them come so close will cost too many lives. We’ve already lost half our patrols in the eastern territories—if we simply wait here, won’t that embolden the humans?”

“Sometimes,” I add, running a claw along the map, “the mightiest hunter lies still, waiting for the perfect moment. Let the humans come close. Let them taste the idea of victory. Let them believe we’re cornered.”

The chamber falls deathly silent. A ripple of unease passes through the forest kin, their eyes flickering between one another. Morrin’s gaze meets mine, the faintest glimmer of grim approval there.

I glance up, pinning each of them with a dark, relentless stare. “And when they finally take that last, foolish stepforward… they will fall before they even realize the trap was sprung.”

No one doubts my intention. Defending the castle walls, allowing them to believe we’ve retreated in fear—this will be their undoing. And when the time comes, there will be no mercy, no reprieve. Only fire and blood.

I pause, letting my words settle into the hush that grips the chamber. My generals, my Sentinels, my forest allies—they watch me with a mixture of dread and unshakeable loyalty. The magic within me coils like a viper, hungry for release.

An older Sentinel, battle-hardened scars carving deep into his face, ventures to speak. “The humans have brought siege engines. Their numbers alone—”

“Numbers,” I cut him off, my voice echoing around the chamber. “They will bolster their courage, but it won’t save them.” I straighten, lifting my chin. “They do not know these walls as we do. They do not know this fortress.”

A beat of silence.

Then, one of the forest creatures—its fur caked in mud and flecked with dried blood—steps forward. “Your command, my queen?”

I do not hesitate. I do not waver.

“We draw them in,” I say coldly. “We let them taste the idea of conquest, and then we cut them down. We strike the moment they breach the second gate.”

“But what if they are prepared for that?” Morrin challenges. His wings ruffle in agitation. “What if the sea witch’s magic counters ours?”

I tilt my head, lips curving. “Then they will die tired.”

Across the table, a whispered ripple of agreement spreads among my warriors. The creatures at the perimeter bare their teeth in grim satisfaction.

Morrin nods, though the lines of concern remain etched into his brow. “We’ve already begun reinforcing the gates. Our alchemists are creating new wards, and the forest kin have agreed to ambush any supply lines that stray too far.”

“Good,” I say. “Let them know we are not passive defenders. Show them no mercy in the open fields. Harass them by day and by night. But once they near the castle, hold your positions. Let them feel safe on the threshold of my domain.”

A hush settles once more as my words sink in. Then the older Sentinel bows his head, voice choked with resolve. “As you command, my queen. The preparations for war have already begun.”

I look around at the hardened faces, the wounded, the weary. They are loyal. They have shed blood and tears for our cause and I will not let that be in vain.

“No more waiting,” I pronounce, my voice carrying through the chamber. “No more strategizing. This will be their end.”

The castle shifts as my orders spread. The walls pulse with magic, ancient wards awakening, responding to the impending battle. The sky darkens, as if the storm brewing inside me has begun to reflect itself in the heavens.

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