Chapter One
Ethan
The quiet was so jarring it could wake the dead.
Midnight darkened the ruins of Dolinska. There was nothing left of the city besides crumbled buildings and piles of rubble. Amongst it all was the scent of blood, and corpses buried beneath the concrete. We moved as a small group through the disaster, specters congregating at a mass grave as a light snowfall coated the once-perfect streets. Arthur and Finlay roamed beside me, my only companions within this dark night. We’d taken a portal to the forests outside the city, and snuck our way into Dolinska in order to search for our missing friends that might’ve survived the destruction.
I was losing hope that there were any.
As I surveyed the carnage, a lullaby I knew as a child struck me, such a distant memory that it almost seemed like someone else’s recollection.
Droga, Droga, master of night
Came to eat my soul
Slipped in at night to take a bite
And swallowed me up whole.
We remained close together as we continued on our mission. We couldn’t afford to lose each other in this mess. We forged in the direction of the palace, shivering as a winter breeze rushed through the husks of trees still standing in the local park.
There was a depraved snarling up ahead. Hunched forms loomed over frozen bodies, accompanied by the tearing of flesh. As we neared, I took in their bare naked humanoid bodies, soulless eyes and gnashing teeth. They ran on four-clawed paws, bits of jagged flesh hanging off their forms.
Ghouls. Dozens of them. I readied to defend myself, but the monsters merely hissed and ran away, fading into nests they’d created out of rubble.
Ghouls were vile creatures. They were disgusting monsters that fed on carrion. They loved digging up graveyards to devour those who’d been laid to rest. They were always violent. They hadn’t attacked us, which meant there were plenty of bodies for them left to feed on.
I grimaced, and we moved onward. I heard screeching up above, and we ducked behind a fallen building for cover.
Skeletal figures in dark cloaks flew overhead, faces shielded by hoods. They made wicking screeching sounds that pierced the night and turned my blood cold.
Wraiths. I hadn’t seen one in years, since the last time I’d banished one from Dolinska as the Phantom. Wraiths were formed from the souls of those who’d been wronged… and there were many fae who’d been cheated out of life, killed off here during Dolinska’s seige.
“Best to avoid them,” Finlay whispered. I nodded, and we crept as quietly as possible in the opposite direction the wraiths had flown. One wraith we could take, two, maybe, but a whole host of them like that would certainly mean our doom. We’d come here to do one thing only, and dammit, I planned on accomplishing something other than our deaths.
Droga, Droga, stag of wrath,
Took his teeth and chomped,
His antlers smashed my bones to bits
Cut and sliced and chopped.
Monsters were running reckless here. Even if the city managed to repair itself, somehow, it’d take a legion of fae to clear all of them out…
Everything had been ruined.
I saw a thin outline in the distance. Nearly appeared like a crowd. They almost looked like fae, but they were so still, and too far off the ground. I didn’t see any wings.
“What’s that…” Finlay asked, but his voice died with horror as the image came closer into view.
Lining the city streets was a fence made of bodies. The limp forms of sorceresses and shifters hung suspended on pikes. They’d been impaled with stakes, mounted along the city’s barren streets. I recognized them as the same soldiers who’d fought for me and lost their lives at the fortress.
I sneered. Gabby had put the corpses of her enemies on display, to serve as a warning against anyone who dared to rise up again.
The image of the hanging soldiers reminded me horribly of my father, run through and hanging on the leshane’s root.
Droga, Droga, dark lord of death,
