To keep going.
Unfortunately, my thoughts spiral. We were tricked, and it caused the death of a woman whose greatest fear was to be alone again.
I failed her.
And now she is alone.
The room has fallen silent.
Lachlan’s shoulders tense as he turns his head to the corpse behind us once more before sighing through his mouth and facing forward again. “I think it was a her.”
My fingers freeze, ceasing their incessant drumming on the chair, and the air in my lungs seizes up.
I did that.
I killed that creature and many other creatures before her. My chest burns, and I force the air out as I work to stay calm.
1, 2, 3, 4. I count out my inhale and exhale.
Sunlight pours through the skylight in the center of the room. And I focus on the gold rune on the floor. It twinkles. My breathing steadies and with it, my thoughts. I did the right thing, did what my mother sent me back here for. But even that thought doesn’t make it any easier.
The clomping of boots pulls my eyes away from the rune and to my friends as they make their way through the doors and the gathered crowd.
Ash and soot streak their armor, and the purple smudges under their eyes add a level of anguish to their vacant stares. If I feel betrayed, I can’t even imagine how they must feel having lived their entire lives here. Mathilda cuts a straight line towards me, and people flee from her path. Tane walks beside her, a wrathful shadow mirroring her every step. His eyes still glow from the remnants of battle, while Evander looks hollowed out from the inside. Bright copper hair is stark against pale skin that once effused vitality. Mina’s eyes are red and swollen, the lingering result of Elowen’s death.
Mathilda clears her throat, her nose wrinkling in disgust. “The rest of the demon corpses have been burnt. And we saw the last of the boats docking on our way back. Everyone should be here soon.” My eyes soften when they meet hers. I’m relievedshe’s okay. I scan all my friends. Covered in grime, bruises, and scrapes, but it could be worse. It could be much, much worse. Yet here they stand, in front of me, alive and in one piece.
“We canna fit everyone from the realm in here,” Lachlan murmurs, looking around at the sizable crowd in front of us. A line snakes through the terrace door, with more people waiting to get inside.
“Rotate them in and out by district.”
He scans my face, sensing there is no room for an argument or a discussion. “As ye wish.”
Lachlan takes a few steps towards the crowd and begins calling out orders. “If you’re from Ishtar, remain where ye are. If ye are from any other district, make your way outside and we will call for the next district when we’re finished.” His voice seems amplified, bouncing off the marble walls and floors of the throne room. People file out while others stay put, varying degrees of worry and disgust on their faces.
As the citizens of Ishtar take their place, I sit up straighter on my throne. There is so much to do still, and the last thing I want to do is sit here in this room and explain everything to each district. But I have to. They need honesty, and we all need to unite.
Once the room is near bursting, I heave a sigh, readying myself for the nuisance that is public speaking. I wonder if my mother ever felt the same, or Gran?
The people wait patiently for me to begin. A sea of colorful robes and golden bangles tinkle lightly as they shift on their feet. The varying shades of garments and glittering jewels stand out in the bleak white throne room. The cloying scent of perfumes, colognes, and peppery spices clashes with the putrid smell of the asphidra corpse and the smoke wafting in through the open air vents. It’s an assault to the senses. A thick smokeblows in, and my eyes burn.
Ashur stands at the front of the crowd, a frown marring his face.
“What is the meaning of this summons?” he asks, with an authoritative tone.
My armor scrapes across the crystal as I slide my way off the seat and into a standing position. It’s been days, and still I haven’t felt safe enough to wear anything else. Maybe tomorrow I’ll feel secure enough to wear my leathers again. I level my chin. The crown of feathers on my head digs into my scalp, and I resist the urge to remove it.
“I’m in no mood to stand here all day, so I’ll make this quick.” I turn and point at the corpse. “This creature—an asphidra—was shifted into Odessa by Julius. After kidnapping the real Odessa, they put this monster on the throne and systematically tore our realm apart. Hordes of demons attacked the capital, further plunging us into chaos.” There are a few gasps and, if I’m not mistaken, the sound of retching, but I continue. “Somehow they came through and we,” I motion to my court, “defeated them. Going forward, training is mandatory, as this realm was meant for. Training grounds will reopen, as will the forges and armories. Expect to see these changes implemented immediately. My endeavor to regenerate magic will continue. But that is it—for now.”
“And what gives you this authority?” Ashur asks, surveying me from head to toe.
Any other day, I would appreciate the question to demonstrate how my reign will be.
But this is not the time.And that was not the correct tone.
“The authority was granted to me as it is my birthright set forth by the covenant,” I point to my mother’s crown on my brow, “and because I’m the one who saved this realm.”
His face turns a ruddy color, but he does not rebuke my claim.
