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I huffed a laugh. Malekai would fuckingkillhim if I told him about this.
"Don't worry, Galvor. If I want you to die, it'll be by my blade."
"If it had to be anyone's blade…," he called out after me as I entered the cool, darkening depths beneath the amphitheater.
I heaved a sigh, feeling the weight of what was to come settle upon my shoulders, treading for too long minutes up the long, silent corridor that would eventually lead me to the outdoor stone dais. I
As I neared the end, I could hear Miroslav's baritone voice distantly echoing through the amphitheater above, working the crowd. By title, he served as Zurie's seer and advisor, though he seemed to relish going above and beyond his duties. First and foremost, the fact he slaughtered thousands of soldiers with little more than a thought during The Atratusian War. I'd also heard he'd appeared all too serendipitously out of nowhere after the untimely death of Queen Zurie's former advisor. She trusted him implicitly and relied heavily on him. So much so it made me wonder if they were clandestine lovers, though I'd never seen any evidence of it.
"… They threaten our sovereignty! Through their selfish, reckless actions, they attempt to create dissonance within the haven of our Kingdom! It weakens us! We must stand united lest they startanotherwar! We must end The Uprising!"
The crowd's cheers and stomping in the amphitheatre above was deafening. Pebbles and dust rained down from the ceiling and the walls until they quieted.
Fools, my treasonous mind whispered.
After several long, gut-churning moments, I reached the doorless entryway that rose onto the dais, squinting my eyes in the bright sun, shining its jovial indifference on us from a cloudless sky. From her throne above, I felt her gaze on me like pricking needles.
"And here to ensure that justice is served, that our Kingdom's freedom and power remain, is The Wrath of Queen Zurie, herself… The Royal - Irae - Kalini!”
The crowd's roar was deafening as I stepped through the darkened archway that led onto the dais, my expression impassive and indifferent despite my inner turmoil.
My gaze clashed with Miroslav's silvery eyes, where he stood before a row of fae, sanguinati, elves, and other immortals, all kneeling with their hands bound behind their backs.
My gut gave another sickening twist as I tried not to meet their eyes and failed. Like the gravity of the sun, my gaze always fell to theirs. Eyes holding a painful melange of grim, defiant resignation, pride, fear, and sadness.
It should be me kneeling here instead of you, I know. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry.
I knew none of them could hear me, yet my irreparably tarnished soul compelled me to direct the words silently towards them. Just as much an apology to them as it was a plea for forgiveness. Forgiveness that I didn't deserve.
My grip tightened on my sword as I steeled myself for what would come.
Nine.
Nine more lives I had to take. I'd never attempted to keep count during the war. It would have been a futile endeavour. However, after being promoted to Zurie's Wrath 70 years ago, I couldn't help but keep count on execution days.
1,504.
1,504 heads had rolled on this dais in the last 29 years. 1,504 more lives that I had taken on this gods-forsaken stage in front of thousands. Approximately 23,600 more pints of blood on my hands. I had reoccurring nightmares of drowning in their blood.
And my guilt.
I was no longer so loyal, disillusioned, and brainwashed into believing that what I was doing was for the betterment of The Kingdom of Atratus.
My eyes locked with the first of the waiting dead. A dryad female. Tall and beautiful, despite being covered in dungeon grime with skin a brownish green like the forest from which she, or her ancestors, had been born. Her eyes were blessedly dry. In place of tears was disgust and defiance.
Her eyes slid to the powerful male kneeling beside her. A sanguinati, like myself. And thanks to my heightened sense of hearing- a typical sanguinati gift- my gut gave another sickening churn as it effortlessly tuned out Miroslav's impassioned speech, along with the crowd's cheering, and sharpened to hear the words whispered between the dryad and her lover.
"I will find you in the next world, my fate."
Her eyes slid shut, head bowing forward in resignation to her fate. Her mate attempted to burn his hatred into me through his stare alone.
Metal sang through the air as I rose and brought down my blade. The dryad's mate roared his agony so loudly it drowned out the ensuing crowd's cry of victory.
The sickeningsmackof her head hitting the stone dais echoed as I swung my blade in its diagonal arch to sever the howling male's head from his body. Agony swiftly silenced, his head rolled across the dais, stopping beside hers as if drawn. Eyes still open, he met my gaze even in Death. Their bodies fell forward one directly after the other, like two toppling dominoes.
I didn't have the strength left to meet the remaining gazes. I swiftly mowed through the last of the seven Resistance members who had gotten themselves caught.
Though I'd never speak it aloud… I admired these rebels. They were doing what I longed to do but had no idea how.
