Prince of Darkness

by Blake Arthur Peel

  Light! Tonight is my first official night as Owyn’s wife! That means...

  A blush instantly reddens my cheeks, and my heart begins to beat a little faster within my chest.

  “Aw, look at the poor girl, Merida! You’ll scared her half to death with that sort of talk!”

  The black-haired woman, Merida, pauses mid brush stroke, offering me a sympathetic smile. “The wedding night is nothing to be worried about, Magus. It is a special time that you get to spend with your new husband.”

  The other ladies bob their heads knowingly, as if recalling their own weddings nights.

  “Now,” Merida goes on, continuing her brushing, “it is perfectly natural to be unsure about what will happen. If you want, we can explain to you exactly–”

  “I know how it works,” I reply quickly, feeling my blush deepen. “Please, I don’t need you to explain it to me.”

  “Fair enough,” Merida replies evenly. “But rest assured, most of us have been married for some time. We are experts in that area, so don’t hesitate to ask if you have any questions.”

  All around me, the women try unsuccessfully to hide their smiles.

  I try unsuccessfully not to look mortified.

  If this goes on, I think I might die of embarrassment!

  While my hair dries, spread out and fanned by a couple of the women, Merida applies the makeup, lining my eyes, dabbing my face with powders, and applying ruby-colored lipstick. When my hair is sufficiently dry, they begin to braid it, weaving it in a complex pattern behind my head and chatting amiably with one another, swapping stories from the various weddings they’ve experienced.

  Somewhere in the middle of all this, the young woman from before returns carrying a bundle in her arms. Inside is a plain white wedding dress, sewn from costly silk imported from Acacia.

  With everything else finished, they help me into the wedding dress and button up the back. It takes longer than I would have thought, but eventually it is fit snugly around my form.

  Finally, at my behest, they help me place my talisman around my neck, the blue crystal hanging near my breast and accenting the dress surprisingly well.

  “Alright,” Merida says, motioning for a mirror to be brought over. “Are you ready to see our handiwork?”

  I nod my head nervously, worried at what I might see in the reflection.

  They place the mirror in front of me, and for a moment, I don’t recognize the woman staring back. My hair is expertly woven and styled, resting atop my head like a delicate crown of braids. My complexion is flawless, and full, red lips open in amazement at the alluring, mysterious eyes gazing at me beneath long dark lashes. Finally, I notice the wedding dress, form-fitting and clinging to the various curves of my body.

  In short, I appear absolutely stunning.

  “Wow,” I mutter, mouth agape as I stare at myself in the mirror. “I look beautiful!”

  “You sound surprised, Magus.”

  I look over at Merida and the other women gathered around her and smile. “I’m not surprised because of your skill, which is considerable, by the way. I’m surprised because... well, I’ve never really looked like this before. I’ve never been one to get dressed up in much of anything besides my mage robes and a very small amount of makeup.”

  One of the women lets out a long sigh. “Well, you should, Magus. You’re one of the prettiest things I’ve ever seen – you should let your light shine more often.”

  Behind me the door opens, and I turn to find Peony entering the room as well. Upon seeing me, she practically bursts into tears.

  “Light bless me! You look absolutely gorgeous, my dear!”

  “Thank you,” I reply, feeling another blush coming on.

  She steps in and takes my hand, patting it gently as she continues to look me over. “Everything is almost ready downstairs. The other mages and the village folk are already gathering at the chapel. Is there anything I can get you before we begin? Anything at all?”

  “Actually, there is one thing,” I reply sheepishly. “Would it be possible to have a quick bite to eat? I’m rather famished.”

  The other women burst into a fit of giggling.

  “Oh, there’ll be plenty of time for that later,” Peony replies, releasing my hand and stepping away. “Besides, you wouldn’t want to spoil your appetite before the feast!”

  My heart sinks, but only a little bit, my hunger overshadowed by the butterflies fluttering around in my stomach.

  She makes her way to the exit. “I’ll come and get you when it’s time. It shouldn’t be too much longer.”

  With that, she heads down the stairs, leaving me to fret nervously with the village women.

  Light, I’ve fought demons and assassins... why does getting married frighten me so much?

  TINY CANDLES LIGHT the way leading from the inn to the chapel, their golden flames flickering inside lanterns strung above the path. The effect is quite magical, the motes of light reminding me of fireflies on the banks of Loch Morloch, and as the ladies of Elder Hollow escort me to the ceremony, I can’t help but feel like I am in a storybook, on my way to marry a prince.

  Each of the village women is dressed in church attire, homespun dresses and wool stockings, and each of them carries a small bouquet of flowers in their hands, daisies and poppies harvested from the local gardens.

  It feels like I am in a dream, gliding through a field of stars, and before I even realize it, I am standing outside the doors of the chapel, preparing to go inside.

  Merida steps up to me and leans in, asking, “Are you ready to go in, Magus?”

  I take in a deep, shaky breath and nod my head.

  “Alright,” she replies, motioning for one of the girls to open the doors. “Don’t fret, dear. You look perfect.”

  The doors swing inward, admitting us into the chapel. Flanked by my escorts, I step inside, heart fluttering wildly.

  Everyone inside stands as we enter, regarding us from the pews with smiles on their faces. An elderly woman softly plucks at a harp in the corner, filling the stone room with a beautiful melody. At the front, Daine the priest stands at a plain wooden pulpit, his kind eyes watching beneath hooded brows, and beside him, Owyn stands with his hands clasped in front of him, grinning nervously at the top of a dais. He wears a clean, neatly pressed tunic and a pair of trousers tucked into polished dressed boots.

  He looks positively dashing.

  Our eyes meet, and for a moment, everything else fades to black.

  In an instant, I relive every moment we have shared together, the highs and the lows, every kiss and every conversation. My heart swells with a feeling of love so powerful it threatens to overwhelm me, and I can tell simply by looking at him that he is experiencing the same thing.

  I continue walking down the aisle, making my way to the front as the harp plays in the background.

  As I go up the stairs, dress trailing behind me, the village woman find seats on the front pews, sitting down and turning their attention on the pulpit.

  Owyn takes my hand in his and looks into my eyes as the harp mutes and the priest begins to speak.

  “Today, we have gathered to celebrate life – life, and the sacred bonds of matrimony. The Light, in its infinite wisdom, has brought us friends today who not only saved us from a terrible fate, but who also reminded us of the goodness of life and the relationships we forge with others.”

  He turns to gesture at Owyn and me, the corners of his mouth tugging up in a small, knowing smile. “Marriage is an essential part of life – as necessary as breathing and eating. It is an important step in our mortal journey upon Byhalya, an embodiment of one of the true virtues: love. It is for love we have gathered here this evening. It is for love that Owyn Lund and Zara Dennell have chosen to bind themselves together, to become one in the eyes of the Light.”

  Turning back to the congregation, he intones, “The teachings of the Radiant Church instruct us that marriage is an abiding gift, one that persists for the remainder of our l
ives and into the eternities; when we die on this world, our spirits remain bound as we return home to the Light.”

  Owyn gives my hand a squeeze, and I return it instantly. The words of the ceremony are simple and beautiful. They make my entire body fill with warmth.

  “Now, we will hear from those who are to be wed,” Daine continues. “They will speak their vows before us, and then I will complete the ceremony.”

  He turns to Owyn and gives him a small nod.

  Owyn takes a deep breath, then turns his forest green eyes on me. I’m surprised to see that they are teary.

  “Zara,” he begins, voice carrying throughout the chapel, “I love you more than life itself. You showed me that there is more to life than duty, that there is more to people than what I can see on the surface. I promise to always love you and care for you, no matter what happens in this world, and that I will fight with everything I have to always protect you.”

  Short, simple, and sweet. I would expect nothing less from the ranger.

  Daine now turns to me and nods.

  “Owyn,” I say softly, nearly overcome by emotion, “you were a friend to me when I had nobody. You’ve always known how to make me laugh and you’ve never given me a reason to doubt your integrity. Ever since we first met, I’ve felt myself drawn to you, even when we were separated by many miles, and the time we have spent together has been the happiest of my entire life. I promise to love and support you forever. I promise that I will cherish our relationship and that I will always be there for you, no matter what happens in the coming days.”

  All throughout the little chapel, I can hear people sniffling but I do not look away. My eyes are intent on Owyn as the priest begins to speak once more.

  “By the power vested in me by the Radiant Church, and in the name of the Light, I pronounce you Owyn and Zara Lund, husband and wife, henceforth and forever. You may now kiss the bride.”

  Owyn pulls me close and we kiss.

  The entire chapel erupts into joyous applause.

  MUSIC AND LAUGHTER fills the Elder Hollow inn, ringing out in jubilant celebration of our wedding.

  The tables are all laden with food: pies, pudding, roast chicken, fried vegetables, and all manner of homecooked delicacies. Along the wall, large casks of ale flow freely, filling mugs and lending energy to the festivities.

  Owyn and I sit at a table near the bar, awkwardly trying to steal bites of food while people congratulate us.

  “I’m so hungry,” I mutter as a group of mages bid us farewell and step to the side. I quickly stuff a roll slathered with honey into my mouth before someone else can come up and interrupt our meal.

  “I am too,” Owyn replies, painting on a smile as a gnarled farmer and his wife come up to say hello.

  The feast goes late into the night, the mages and the village folk of Elder Hollow mingling and chatting amiably with one another. Despite the near ceaseless interruptions, the lightheartedness is a welcome change of pace from the drudgery of the war, with all thoughts of demons and the end of the world being drowned by alcohol and good conversations.

  The wastelanders are the only ones who do not seem to be celebrating. They sit in a nearby corner, spears leaning against the wall within arm’s reach. Each of them wears a look of bafflement, as if they are completely confused by everything that is going on, and they idly pick at their food, watching everyone around us with suspicion.

  Eventually, though, we begin to grow weary. I finally manage to eat enough food to stave off the starvation, but that only leaves me feeling giddy and a little anxious about what I know comes next.

  Owyn feels it too. I can sense it in the way he sits beside me, body taut like a bowstring ready to snap. We eye each other shyly and talk about pretty much everything besides the wedding.

  The innkeeper’s wife Peony seems to pick up on this awkwardness and breaks away from her conversation.

  “You two look like you could use some rest,” she says kindly, gesturing to the stairs. “I’ve had a room prepared for you – the suite, our largest one. Why don’t you sneak away while everyone is drinking? I won’t tell a soul.”

  “That would be great,” Owyn says stiffly. “Thank you.”

  I can feel my cheeks turning bright red.

  She nods and turns away, giving Owyn a chance to take my hand and lead me toward the staircase. The wastelanders make as if to follow us, but Owyn shoos them away with a curt wave, prompting them to sit back down.

  Fortunately, no one seems to notice as we fade into the background and sneak up the stairs, making our way to the deserted second floor and the large room at the end of the hall.

  My heart flutters within my chest as we approach the door, but I can’t help but feel a surge of excitement as well. At one look from Owyn, my face breaks into a huge grin and his does as well. Then, together, we go into the bedroom and close the door behind us.

  The world outside ceases to exist to us, and for once it’s just Owyn and me. For one night, we forget the brokenness of our world and our daunting quest. For one night, everything is perfect.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Elias

  Demon fire rained throughout the night, finally letting up at dawn.

  Stepping out from beneath my cover, I stand up on the battlements and survey a truly disheartening scene. Charred corpses litter the wall laying amidst broken debris from the barrage. The stone blocks, once pristine and white as the rest of Tarsys, are now stained black, burnt by the machines that pounded them incessantly. A strange disquieting silence hangs over the walls like a cloud, and below, the demons seem to be waiting, biding their time before the next assault.

  “Light curse them,” I mutter, turning to regard my Nightingale bodyguards. “Let’s pick up the pieces and get ourselves back in order. There’s bound to be another attack soon.”

  I begin organizing the men, commanding them to remove the corpses and return to their stations. They move slowly at first, the defenders afraid to come out from beneath their scanty cover, but it isn’t long before the walls are once again buzzing with activity, some semblance of a defense returning to the front.

  Many died in the barrage. Most of the bodies were burnt to a crisp and are now barely recognizable, their clothing and skin sloughing off their bones like dust.

  Fortunately, the mages were able to prevent most of the demon fire from getting into the city. If they had not been there, the entire western district would have been burned to the ground. Thank the Light for the Conclave, I think to myself, overseeing the rebuilding efforts. It must have taken an extraordinary amount of effort to hold those shields throughout the night.

  A pair of weary-looking soldiers climbs the stairs of my tower. Judging by the white knots sewn to their dark cloaks, I can tell that they are officers.

  “Lord Protector,” one of them calls without preamble, his face ashen. “Come with me. There’s something that you need to see.”

  Frowning, I motion for one of my lieutenants to take over the tower before following them back down the steps, taking a path that leads us to the southern-most part of the city defenses.

  This area seems to have been hit less hard than my section of the wall, the militia force that holds it in better shape than my Nightingales. Still, there are far more dead than I would like, the faces of the men drawn and grim as I pass by.

  The officers eventually lead me to an area that looks to have collapsed in the demon fire barrage. A small guard tower, scored with streaks of black char, has been reduced to little more than rubble, with shattered timbers and fragments of stone littering the top of the wall. Several corpses are lined up just outside of the destruction, mangled bodies covered in dust and blood.

  “Eleven Hells,” I curse, immediately recognizing one of the bodies.

  “He was inside when the tower collapsed,” one of the officers explains, his expression somber. “One of those green fireballs hit and the roof came down right on top of their heads.”

  General Mohr’
s bright, lion-shaped armor now lies in shambles, clinging to his body like scrap metal and stained in various places with his blood. His eyes stare sightlessly into the heavens, his hard face dour even in death, and his sword rests at his side, broken in three places.

  The siege has only just begun, I think to myself, disgruntled by this unfortunate turn of events. How is it that we have already lost our battle commander?

  I say a silent prayer to the Light as Nightingales and militiamen gather around me, their eyes looking to me for council.

  “What do we do now, Lord Protector?” One of them asks, his fear made plain by the quivering in his voice.

  “Cover the bodies and remove them from the wall,” I reply gruffly. “See that the general is treated with respect. Then, we do the only thing we can: continue defending the city.”

  “Does this mean that you’re now in charge, my lord?”

  I pause for a moment before eventually nodding me head once. “It appears that way. Now, go. Prepare yourselves. The demons are getting ready to make another push. We need to make sure that they don’t get through.”

  The men scramble to do as I say, taking care of the bodies and preparing themselves to fight. I stand by for a moment, making a show of watching over them, but in reality I am reeling inside.

  General Mohr and his closest allies are dead. Now I’m to be in charge of the city’s defense? Hells... things keep going from bad to worse.

  Eventually, I begin making my way back to my tower on the western wall, Nightingale attendants in tow.

  “Send runners to each of the battle commanders, on the walls and in the city,” I command as I walk. “Inform them of the general’s passing and let them know that I will be coordinating the defense. It is imperative that we have leadership, now more than ever. Now, go.”

  Fortunately, by the time I return to the front, the defenses are already looking much better. The corpses have all been cleared away and the damage is being repaired, wooden supports and sacks of dirt being placed to cover up the holes. When I reach the top of the tower, however, what little optimism that has built up is quickly dashed away.