Page 1 of A Serenade To The Elf Queen
Part I
The Fawn
Prologue Rhianelle
Ceremonious beating of war drums fills the cold night air. It’s the summons for the Wild Hunt. Every beast and wyvern screeches with excitement at the death call. I can almost hear the rampant hunger in that rumbling.
They have come to feast.
“The fae will be here soon,” the knight beside me whispers low, his rough face rife with concern.
I remain where I am on the battlement, my gaze falling northward where streams of enemy forces darken the horizon.
Far across the sea of dwarves and orcs, the fae army of Avalon has come to join the battle. They come riding monsters that rose from the deepest bowels of hell. I swallow the burn behind my throat.
“You have to leave now before it’s too late, Your Highness,” the nameless knight urges me again.
“Save yourselves! It’s the Gajii!” A tower guard screams hysterically before running for his life. I don’t blame him for abandoning his post. Anyone would have been intimidated at the sight of the giant woolly mammoth. No spears or arrows can pierce through the dwarven made armor covering its body.
As if a single one of the monstrous beings wasn’t deadly enough, the fae have brought eleven of them on this assault.
“I will not abandon my people,” I say to the knight before he can tell me to escape again. We have not finished evacuating the civilians. I need to buy time for the defenseless elderly and children. It’s all I can do for them now.
I descend swiftly down the staircase to join the army below.
My eyes fall on the golden-haired warrior, Commander Gerailt Clayborne as he prepares for a siege. His handsome face remains undaunted, even in the face of this inevitable defeat. He gives a silent nod of understanding to me as I blend among his soldiers. I might have smiled at him if I could unsee the horde that was coming for us.
Nothing but death awaits us beyond this wall.
The thumping of hooves and war cries grows thunderous.
The Gajii’s tusks crash into the Atlas shield like battering rams. For a moment, it seems like the magical barrier weaved into the stones by the Elders might last. Our last glimmer of hope is quickly snuffed by the seventh strike. An ear-deafening sound vibrates through the air followed by a crack on the wall. I cover my head from the crumbling debris, narrowly evading the colossal creatures’ stampede.
The command from the mage rider on top of its neck is loud and clear.“Leave no one alive.”
Waves of the mighty dwarves and orcs crash upon us like rabid wolves through the opening. I draw my sword and shield high as they clash on us with brutal force. Our fight is equally matched until a fae general charges through the flames on his ferocious steed, followed by a dozen of his companions.
He sunders the Astrea’s temple in half with just a single swipe of his blade. The male cares not for the innocent lives that are lost. I finally understand why the Elders call them the Savage Fae.
Their arrival tilts the scale of battle instantly.
“Retreat!” I shout to anyone who can hear me. My voice is easily devoured by the wailing and chaos of battle.
I know each one of the slain faces on the ground. Aldarelfs, the palace guards, my handmaidens. Death makes no exception.
The orcs and dwarves continue their ruthless sacking of the capital, turning the city into cinders. I kneel to the ground, staring at my burning home in despair.
There’s no one left around me.
My gaze rises to the heavens. Are the gods listening to the desperate plea of the people? The sky is as scarlet as the streams of blood that color the ground.
Through the drifting embers, I see a black wyvern with wings wider than the rest of its kind scaling the giant clock tower.
The doom bringer of legends—the Nythe.
My heart hammers wildly at the glimpse of its rider, a fae male warrior clad in steel-black armor. His long, dark hair snapping against the night wind as he gazes upon the bleeding ground below him.
Eirik Bloodhound. The Fae King of Avalon, Eternal Ruler of the Seven Realms.
