Page 85 of A Serenade To The Elf Queen
The guards haul their bodies and throw them into the depths of the pool. I listen to the ancient words in their mouths, trying to make sense of the chaos.
“You shall have no rest, you shall know no peace.”
After a tortuous while, I notice a ripple forming in the center of the pool. Bursts of energy erupt as the men rise from the water, the wounds on their necks completely healed. I finally understand this dark scenery. Forged through blood and death, this is the birth of monsters.
The Nightwalkers. The first of their kind.
The enchantress skips towards the five men. They are unchained and unbound, but they make no move to hurt her. A wicked smile forms on her lips. “You are mine. For the rest of eternity.”
She suddenly points to the black-robed man. “Now bring me his heart.”
“Wait. You—you promised to share them,” the wizard exclaims. The rest of his brethren start to panic.
“Leave no trace of them, my darlings,” she whispers her poison. The Nightwalkers begin hunting every sorcerer without mercy. Not even the women and children in the village are spared from this massacre.
When the five men emerge from the flames and destruction, she makes them dismember and kill one another over and over again. Flesh and bones sunder as the enchantress beats them to obedience. No matter what kind of horror she bestows upon them, they keep coming back to life.
What is the point of this never-ending pain? They will do whatever she demands. The truth sinks in when I gaze into the witch’s glittering eyes.
She enjoys tearing their dignity to shreds.
“Please. No more,” I mutter, shaking my head. My voice has gone hoarse from all the screaming. The vision continues to tug on my heartstrings until there is nothing left.
Blankets of smoke falls upon me, and I am suddenly in the middle of the woods, sitting around a campfire. Dozens of women wearing the skulls of dead animals dance around the five men, taunting them. Their manners are as cruel and beastly as the masks they wear.
My eyes snap shut over the sound of a violent whipping. They continue their torment until the Nightwalkers buckle to their knees.
One of the females turns to me. “Are you just going to watch?” the Eagle invites. She passes the barbed flog to my hand. “It’s your turn now, new friend.”
I ignore her and crouch in front of Svenn.
“Wake up,” I say, reaching my hand to shake him. His eyes are lifeless and unfocused. Silent tears track down my face.
Everything that was done to him was too cruel.
The Boar places a hand on my shoulder. “Come on. Let us have our fun.”
“No!” I shrug her off, stealing a piece of firewood. “Do not come any closer.”
I wave the torch to keep them at bay. The merriment halts and they all focus on me in a mixture of curiosity and confusion.
“You are one of us now,” the Hyena hisses.
“Never,” I say calmly.
“Now. Now. Play nice, little elfling,” a sweet melodious voice greets me from a woman wearing a stag’s skull mask. She removes the covering from her face. It’s a mockery of my house crest. The others seem to hold her with high regard, parting for her to pass through.
No, this is not respect.
They’re all afraid of this enchantress.
Her icy gaze lands on me. “Hello there, my new heir.”
I shiver at the caress in that tone. She inches closer and my heart almost stops.
“Come now. We have so many things to do.” She runs her fingers over my arm, coaxing me to follow her. “Everything you’ve ever desired will be yours. All those who defy you shall turn to dust. We shall create a prosperous kingdom of wealth and glory for your people. I offer you this power, Queen of Elves.”
I recoil from her violating touch. “It is not yours to offer. You stole it. You killed them.” I steel my guts to face her.
