Page 89 of The Shadow Fae Rhapsody
The thumping of hooves draws closer and the guards are finally alert. I hold Rhianelle tightly in my arms, knowing that she might be stolen from me at any second.
“What the hell is that?” one of the sentries asks, fear laden in his voice.
Rhianelle’s ears perk, twitching to the commotion.
“Something is wrong,” she mutters, moving back towards the chamber in a haste. “Come, Svenn.”
I trail behind her, dread filling every step.
Chatter ceases in the hall, and the nobles swivel their head towards the sound. Tall One makes his way towards Rhianelle, a heavy shield in his hand.
“What’s going on, Darstan?” she asks him. The knight is almost as mystified as her. He steers her towards the wall, purely out of instinct.
Smart,but it’s not enough.
“Get down!” Chaos descends into the hall as soon as Tall One says those words.
Glasses shatter all around us, but of course Rhianelle doesn’t get to see all of this as I envelope her with my wings. She sure as hell doesn’t get to see the flying heads and limbs crashing from the towering window panel. All at once, people run for their lives. Dead corpses pour into the hall like rain. They land on the silverwares and the platters of untouched food. It’s a vision of hell, unfit for the eyes of my little fawn.
Screams of shock and horror tear through the air in the hall.
“What’s happening?” Rhianelle asks frantically, trying to peel the membrane of my wings for a way out.I wish I can cover her nose from the stench of blood and rotten body parts.
“Svenn, let me out,” she begs.
A miserable sort of silence falls in the room. The nobles slowly gather themselves from the terror. Then the wailings and cries of despair begin. I wait for everything to settle before releasing Nel.
My heart twists the moment I lift my wings.
Eyepatch studies the damage in the chamber and the dead bodies. His face quickly grows intense, a crack in his usual calm exterior.
“A catapult alone shouldn’t have been able to have this range,” he comments.
Red nods, agreeing with him. “Orcs on Asterdust are truly something else.”
I tune out the commotion and fix my gaze on the Elven Queen as she walks to the centre of the hall. She blanches at the sight of the severed heads rolling on the marble floor. Her entourage is all over her, making sure she’s unharmed. I should be with her too, but there is nothing I can do to spare her from this pain.
Someone is relaying the full incident of the attack to her, how the orcs slaughtered all the Valorians messengers and some of the prisoners.
“I don’t understand…” she mutters with her eyes glazed. “Why would they do this?”
“Get her out of here,” I hear Eyepatch bark to Tall One before heading out to chase after the orcs. Red and Shade slip from the corner of the room to join him in the hunting party.
Her voice wavers as she continues to speak.“Send word for the chieftain from the nearby orkan villages to be careful. They have Asterdust.”
“That is against the Aeonian’s ruling—” a young squire tries to correct her before the lord of the castle places a firm hand on his shoulder.
“The Queen is absolutely right. They should be prepared. I will take responsibility for the message.” He bows respectfully and takes his leave.
Rumblings resonate from the crowd upon his departure. I hate to admit it, but Eyepatch was damn right. Rhianelle shouldn’t be here in the open. She still appears lost and confused as her towering knight approaches her.
“Wait, Darstan.” A small, broken voice comes out of her throat. “We must tend to the fallen.”
I watch numbly as the girl fishes for a dismembered head from underneath the long dining table. The guests in the hall fall silent as they regard her. Slowly, they follow in her example and start gathering the dead bodies. Despite the devastation written on Rhianelle’s face, she delivers a solemn prayer for each victim, be it elves, orcs, fae, or dwarves, before they are sent to the temple.
“Clear them a safe path and may they find peace in their next journey,” she completes the last recitation from the elven holy scriptures.
Rhianelle may masquerade as this calm anchor for the people to hold on to, but I know her secret tells. Judging by the tremor in her voice, the girl is on the verge of crying. I move towards her as soon as the ritual ends and so does her tall knight.
