Page 84 of A Realm of Fire and Ash

We walk in silence through the arch and down a long granite path lined with gnarled oaks and towering pines. A retinue of guards follows several yards behind, the clack of their boots against the stones echoing in the otherwise still air. Winged fae soar in the sky above, scouting the surroundings.

At last, we come to a set of tall silver doors set at the base of a giant hawthorn, set with in frame of gold. As we approach, I can see that the hawthorn tree is like none I have ever seen before. Its twisted branches are thick with thorns, some as fine as a hair and others as thick as a finger. The trunk is knotted and gnarled, and the bark is rough and grey, marked with deep grooves and fissures. The leaves are small and oval-shaped, with a waxy texture and a deep, rich green color. The blooms are clusters of small, white flowers tinged with a pale, ghostly blue, and their scent is sweet and heady.

Aggonid steps forward and places his palm against it, and the door swings open. I gasp when I see what's inside—it reaches up into the darkness, tall and golden, glowing with an eerie light. This is unlike any portal in Bedlam. There, our portals are enormous, windy, and just as likely to take you out as it is to strip the clothes from your body. How did something like this end uphereof all places?

The walls of the chamber are lined with marble statues, intricately carved, and painted in vibrant hues. Along one wall, a massive mural stretches from floor to ceiling, depicting dozens of scenes from the Underworld.

We climb the stairs—odd, because from the outside it seems as though we'd be climbing inside the tree—until we reach an imposing door made of solid bronze. Aggonid pauses, as if considering his next move, before pushing the door open with a wave of his hand.

Behind it lies an open courtyard, bathed in the soft light of the setting sun. At the center is a fountain shaped like a pair of hands cupping water, and all around it are lush gardens filled with exotic plants and vibrant wildflowers.

A red carpet leads from the fountain to a set of golden gates guarded by two enormous demons. Aggonid strides forward, not pausing for a moment as he passes between them and into the palace.

As I step through the portal, I feel a chill run down my spine. The air is thick with the scent of perfumed flowers, and I can't help but wonder what kind of place we've entered. Looking around, I see that we've arrived in a grand, open air entrance hall, the likes of which I've never seen before. The ceiling is lined with rich tapestries, depicting scenes of war and seduction. Gleaming marble statues of twisted fae creatures loom from the corners of the hall, their eyes seeming to follow our every move. The furniture is equally lavish, with ornate chairs and tables crafted from dark, twisted wood.

"This is Romarie?" I whisper, my eyes wide as I take in the opulent surroundings.

"Don't let it fool you," Aggonid says, tucking my arm around his and bringing me close to his side. "He hides the ugly beneath a façade of beauty. Look closer."

Studying our surroundings with a new lens, I see that Aggonid is right. The grandeur of the entrance hall belies the true nature of this realm. The tapestries, once beautiful, are now stained and frayed at the edges, as if they've been through countless battles. The marble statues are grotesque, their features contorted in pain and agony. The furniture, while ornate, is also battered and worn.

As we make our way through the entrance hall, I can't shake the feeling that someone is watching us. I look up, expecting to see one of the twisted fae creatures staring down at us, but the hall is empty. The only sound is the echo of our footsteps against the carpet covered marble floors, and the soft rustle of the tapestries in the breeze.

As we make our way deeper into Romarie, the chill in the air grows more pronounced. I can feel the weight of the realm's malevolent energy bearing down on me, suffocating and oppressive.

Keep your eyes on the prize: we’re one step closer to getting back to Wilder.

"Why isn't anyone greeting us?" I ask, glancing around in search of any sign of life.

"It's a power play," Aggonid grumbles, his brow furrowed in frustration.

Golden cords are threaded through his braided hair, adorned with small glass beads that clack together with every step. It's a stark contrast to the darkness that seems to permeate every inch of this realm despite the sun warming my cheeks.

Without any attendants to guide us, we're left to wander the entrance hall alone. A chill runs through me as I realize that this is just one of the many games of deception and manipulation that the King of Romarie plays. No one is immune from his schemes.

As we approach the castle, I'm struck by its sheer size and imposing presence. The structure towers above us, its walls seemingly stretching up into the very clouds above. The doors are more than twice as tall as a man and are made of thick, dark wood, reinforced with iron bands that gleam dully in the dim light. I can't help but wonder what kind of beings might call this fortress home.

As we move closer, I see that the walls are covered in intricate carvings and designs, etched into the very stone itself. The carvings depict scenes of war and conquest, of battles fought and won by the inhabitants of this castle. It's a testament to the power and might of the ruler.

"Do you know where we're going?" I whisper to Aggonid, my eyes darting around nervously.

He doesn't answer, but instead leads me towards the doors. Intricate runes and sigils are etched into them with a precision that speaks of great skill and magic.

As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I can make out an imposing, tan figure standing in front of us. He's dressed in dark, regal clothing, and a heavy crown rests upon his head, waves of jet-black hair styled to his shoulders. He exudes an air of power and authority, and my heart makes a racket in my chest as he strides towards us.

"Welcome," he booms, his voice echoing off the walls. "I am Ollin Valtorious, King of Romarie." He approaches me, taking my hand in his and pressing a kiss to it. I feel a shiver run down my spine at his touch, and I pull away instinctively.

Wrong. He feels wrong.

This man is familiar to me, but I can't put my finger on it. Shadows pour off him, curling around my legs.

"You shouldn't have, Aggie, but I accept," he continues, his predatory, indigo eyes flicking towards me. I feel a sudden surge of panic as I realize that he thinks I'm a gift for him. He's handsome, but not for me.

Aggonid growls, his hand tightening around mine. "She's not for you," he snarls, his eyes flashing with anger.

Valtorious raises an eyebrow but doesn't seem surprised by Aggonid's reaction. "We'll see about that," he grins. "Well then, what brings you to my realm, Aggie?"

Aggonid's grip on my hand doesn't falter, and I can feel the tension in his body as he glares at Valtorious. "Where is King Finian?" he asks through gritted teeth.

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