by D. E. Morris
“If it's Merrik, then be angry and upset at Merrik, because it is his fault, not Jaryn's. Blame Merrik, not your husband. He thought he was with his wife. It was not an intentional betrayal. Deep down in your heart, you know that.”
“That doesn't make it hurt any less.”
Elas nodded sadly. “I know it doesn't. I wish I knew what to say to make it better but I don't think there are any words that can fix this.”
She lifted her eyes, appreciative of the support. “No, but I'll take a hug.”
A slow, reluctant smile spread across his face. They both knew that he wasn't the most forthcoming with verbal or physical acts of affection even with Kenayde, so to ask for something like an embrace was a stretch for him. It was also a request Ashlynn knew he would fulfill, even if begrudgingly. He heaved a dramatic sigh and lumbered to his feet, taking her hands and pulling her up as well before tugging her in to wrap his arms around her. Though he was stiff and tense at first, he eventually became more comfortable with the contact and relaxed into it, even tightening his hold around her as they stood together.
“I'm always on your side,” he promised. “If you need me for anything, all you have to do is ask. I know what it feels like when one thing after another keeps falling apart around you, like the world is turning against you. I'm in your corner. Don't forget that.”
“Thank you, Elas. I need to hear that, and I needed this.” Releasing him, she tucked her hair behind her ears. “I suppose congratulations are in order. Kenayde tells me you two have decided to keep the child.”
He eyed her, trying to get a read on what wasn't being said behind the pleasantries that were. “We want her, Ashlynn. The alternative is forcing her upon a distant relative that has already said they don't want her. She'll either be abandoned at an orphanage a few days later or kept and abused. We will take care of her and we will love her.”
“I know you will,” she countered quickly, “and so will we all if she is to be part of our family. I am glad that the two of you are happy.”
“Thank you.”
A knock sounded on the door before it opened and one of the guards came halfway in. “Killian has returned, Your Majesty. He brought a trail of prisoners in chains behind him down to the dungeons.”
“Where is he now?”
“Here, Your Majesty.” He hadn't changed from the shirt he'd cut up to protect his hands from the metal netting, and when he stepped around the guard to enter the room, the dried blood on his exposed arms made the lacerations look much worse than Ashlynn knew they were. His face was flushed and as he came to a standstill in the room, his stance was wide, anger radiating off of him in waves. “There was already another dragon there when we returned,” he told her before she could ask him for a report, “likely her mate. He was enraged and could not be reasoned with. I lost two men to his anger and all we did was try to stay out of his way. Your Majesty, dragons are some of the most communicative feral creatures on this planet. He will tell others of his loss, just as surely as it is spreading among their kind that there have been similar slayings. You are running out of time before this war is not so one sided. Soon they will fight back, and when they do, they will not be merciful.”
He stepped out into the hallway to pick up something he'd left behind, then reentered to hand it to Ashlynn. “This was among the belongings of the hunters we rounded up.”
Uncertain, Ashlynn took the strange object from him and turned it over in her hands, trying to figure out which end was up. When she realized what she was holding, she almost gagged. A dragon skull had been fashioned into a sort of helmet and mask. It was small enough that it had to have come from a young drackling or an older hatchling, and had been bleached by the sun. The top and bottom parts of the jaw had been drilled into and tied together with thick leather strips to keep the skull atop the wearer's head and over their face. Under the swooping horns, more leather had been dyed and cut to look like scales, then sewn together with hatchling down to drape down the neck of the person wearing the skull and cover the back of their head completely. If it wasn't so grotesque, it would have been beautiful.
“None of the captured hunters has spoken a word since they were arrested,” Killian told her, watching as Elas took the construct to look it over as well. “I have them all in the deepest parts of the dungeons as you desired, split between the north and south wings in an effort to keep collusion to a minimum, though they are under heavy guard as well.”
“This is disgusting,” Elas hissed, handing the thing back to Ashlynn.
“I could not agree more.” She peered down into the empty sockets where the eyes of a young dragon had once been. “These are the masks Cirilla described, aren't they? They're more of a headdress than a mask.”
Killian nodded. “I believe so, Your Majesty.”
Both men watched her for a few seconds before Elas asked, “What are you going to do?”
Her lips curved into a frown. “I know what I would like to do, but I need to speak with Jaryn first. Wait an hour, Killian, and then bring them to the throne room. Elas, if you could make it known that there will be a group of prisoners brought before the crown this afternoon, I am counting on the spread of wildfire that is court gossip.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You want an audience.”
“As big of one as can be gathered, yes. If an example must be made here, then it will be made in front of as many people as can bear witness.”
Before the hour was out, the throne room was filled with curious courtiers all waiting to see what was about to take place. It didn't take long for people to hear that prisoners were to be brought before the high king and queen. Excited exchanges passed back and forth as men and women of all ages waited with nervous energy. Some wondered if it had to do with the recent poisoning, while others felt certain it involved the dragon-kin slayings.
Vala and Rowan were already there, standing side by side as they too waited for the show to begin. Beside them, Niam took stock of the room with barely concealed distaste. “I never understood this morbid fascination with public humiliation and punishment,” he told the girls, his voice quiet, despite the din surrounding them. “Is there really nothing better to do at court that this has to be the highlight of life here?”
Rowan shook her head. “It isn't just at court. When I was little, I remember hearing about it all the time in the village me and my da lived in. Anytime someone was getting beaten down or belittled in some way, it drew a crowd. On days there were public executions it was a family event. Vendors sold pretzels, kids played with marbles, and people placed bets while the accused lost their heads or were strung up.”
Niam winced and looked down at Vala. “What about you? Is this just another everyday occurrence for you, too?”
She shrugged, looking around at the faces that filled the room. “We watch as new life begins when babies take their first breaths. Why is it any different to watch a person take their last?”
“There is something seriously wrong with you people.”
Vala laughed lightly and looked up at him. “You lived in a castle. I know it was a lesser kingdom, but still. Are you telling me things like this never happened?”
“They happened all too often. I just left whenever they did.”
With a shake of her head, Vala's lips curved into half a smile. “You are too good for this world Niam, too pure.” Catching sight of someone across the room, her brows elevated. “Is that Misuzu over there, Rowan?” Slowly, purposefully, Rowan turned to Vala and blinked with great intention, bringing a rush of color to the older girl's cheeks. “Sorry! Isn't it a good thing that I keep forgetting you're blind?” Hearing Niam's chuckle, she glared up at him. “What about you? See that woman over there, the one that looks like you? D'you think that's the Elemental of Air?”
Now Rowan openly laughed and Niam was the one unamused. “Really?” Niam asked. “We're not even from the same country.”
Vala rolled her eyes. “I know you're Sinessian, but-”
“No, I mean ethnically. She's Shihouzen and I'm from a small island country far south of both Shihou and Takashiri. You think because we both have slanted eyes, we must be the same race? What about you, doe eyes? You must have faun in your background somewhere with those saucers.”
Her jaw dropped open and Rowan's laughter made her nearly double over. “Niam, I'm so glad you're at Altaine.”
Jaryn and Ashlynn entered together, dressed richly in matching crimson and gold outfits. Whatever was about to happen, it was clearly not an everyday gathering and was one of great impact, one they felt they needed to dress for. Jaryn led Ashlynn to her seat first before taking his, both of them sitting tall and regal, making eye contact with no one until Jaryn looked to Killian who was standing back by the doors. He gave the older man a slight nod, sending him from the room. All who had fallen silent at the royal couple's entrance began whispering to one another almost as soon as Killian was dismissed.
Taking the opportunity, Jaryn leaned slightly more toward Ashlynn and reminded, “Rational, not emotional.”
“I am rational,” she stated evenly. “You're the one who took my idea a step further.” She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “Are you having second thoughts?”
His shoulders squared. “Not for a single moment.”
When Killian came back in, he led a parade of men and women shackled together by their hands and their feet. Each of them had to take slow shuffling steps with their limited mobility. Their train was not a short one with eighteen prisoners in total, four of them elves. Each of them was made to kneel in a line before the elevated platform upon which the thrones sat, Killian on one side of them, Cailin on the other, and a row of guards behind.
The large room was eerily silent as everyone waited to see what was going to happen next. Out of all the hunters bowed before them, only the humans averted their eyes. The elves glared at the royal couple unflinchingly, venom in their heated gazes.
“You have all been charged with intentionally disregarding a royal decree that has recently put all dragons and Gaels under the protection of the crown,” Jaryn declared, his calm voice ringing throughout the room loud enough for all to hear. “Is there any one among you that wishes to contest this accusation?” When none of them spoke or even moved, Jaryn lowered his brows. “What reason can you give me that would justify you willingly putting your own lives at risk to hunt creatures that have long been free here?” Once more, there was no answer, causing Ashlynn to narrow her eyes and ask her own questions.
“Less than two weeks ago, a home belonging to a man and his children far past the outskirts of Altaine Village was raided. Most of the family was taken that day, their wrists and necks slit before they were strung up and abandoned in a field, left to die all because they were Gaelic.” Murmurs and terrified whispers rippled throughout the throne room. No one outside of the inner circle had known the reason behind the strangers being brought into the castle that day, nor did they realize it had anything to do with a warning against Gaels. Such a revelation was a frightening reality and one Ashlynn and Jaryn had discussed revealing at the right time in great detail. They knew it was something their people had a right to know, and if fear helped keep them alive, kept them wary and more on guard, so be it.
“How many of you were involved in that attack?” Ashlynn asked those kneeling before her. Though no answer was given yet again, several of the hunters shifted in small, subtle motions, glancing at one another with just the slight turn of a head. It wasn't much to go on, but it was all the fuel that was needed for Ashlynn. She leaned to the side and picked up something that had been sitting on the floor between the two thrones before she stood. She took several steps to the edge of the platform before she tossed down the bone and leather headdress that Killian had given her, right at the knees of the prisoners, fire in her eyes. “Is this what you wore when you invaded their home? When you took innocent children and hung them from their ankles to watch the blood drain from their bodies?”
There was a tangible shift to the energy in the throne room as those present began to piece together exactly what had been happening and who was before them now. Where most had been watching the prisoners with curiosity before, now there was disgust on many of their faces, fear, and even hatred. Letting the people have a moment to stir up their own emotions, Ashlynn returned to her throne to sit, cold fury on her face. She wanted her subjects to be as bothered by all of this as she and Jaryn were. She wanted them to worry for themselves, for their families and for Gaelic friends, and she wanted them to be angry enough to fight back against people like these criminals before her when the call to arms came.
As the commotion in the throne room grew louder, one of the elves could no longer keep his attention on the royal couple. His eyes darted back and forth across the room, taking in the faces of those on either side of him that were rapidly becoming more irate by the moment. His pale cheeks were reddening and his breathing was picking up in pace, bound hands clenched into fists until it seemed as though he could take it no more.
“They deserved to die!” he bellowed, his long black hair hanging in knotted tangles over his shoulders as he glared at Ashlynn and Jaryn. The conversation in the room came to a gradual quiet and Jaryn fixed slitted eyes on the elf.
“What did you say?”
“I said they deserved to die.” He glowered at Jaryn as though daring him to punish him for his words. “Dragons and Gaels have been allowed free reign for too long. They have gone unchecked and because of it, they have destroyed my homeland and killed my family. My entire race faces extinction because of them.” He turned to Ashlynn, unapologetic. “I know who and what you are, and still I say the time of the drags and the Gaels must be over. They have done great evil and it must be paid for. If you, our leaders, refuse to carry out justice, then we have no choice but to carry it out ourselves.”
“I understand your anger,” Ashlynn told him patiently.
“How can you?” the elf demanded, struggling to his feet. The guards shifted behind him and Killian reached for the hilt of his sword, but Ashlynn lifted her hand ever so slightly, letting the elf continue his tirade where he stood. “My life was taken from me in a single afternoon. Everything I knew and loved was destroyed. I had parents and two sisters who died that day. The dragons and the Gaels took everything from me. They turned on an entire race by destroying Mirasean and they can do it again without warning. They need to be eliminated once and for all.”
“They were under a spell,” Jaryn argued, his voice strained as he tried to keep it as even as possible. “They did not band together and decide to blow Mireasean up on a whim. None of the actions they took were their own as was made evident by the fact that when Hideo was killed, the one who was controlling them, not only did they try to help everyone off the island, but it was rather clear that the riders of the controlled Gaels were under the spell as well. We are only beginning to understand this relationship between music and dragons and dragon kin.”
The elf's eyes bulged. “That is my point exactly. How many generations have you lived among these beasts and you are only now learning of this? You think your argument gains your favor but it only lends credence to my point.” His comrades were slowly lifting their heads one by one as he spoke, watching the debate progress with everyone else in the room. “Look how easy it was for us to fashion our own pipes, to discover our own tunes to tame and stupefy your precious dragons. Already our people have slain almost a dozen in the last two days in Siness alone, and that does not include the Gaels we have bled. Think of what could be done, what peoples could be destroyed and empires ruined if this power were to fall into the wrong hands.” He spit on the ground, his lips curling into a sneer. “I know full well your laws and decrees, and I could not care less about them.”
With no warning, Killian kicked the elf in the back of his knees and sent him sprawling to the cold stone floor. For their part, Ashlynn and Jaryn remained poised and calm, despite the fact that nearly e
very single face in the room was lifted to them for their reaction. “Take them back to the dungeon,” Ashlynn commanded.
The elf began laughing in his prostrate position, grinning when he lifted his head despite the blood oozing from his bottom lip. “Throw us in the deepest cells you have, pretend that we do not exist if it allows you to sleep better at night, only know that we will not stay there for long.” Killian jerked him to his feet by his chains, though he hardly seemed to care. “There are more of us rising up every single day and soon, we will outnumber even your precious dragon-kin.” As the others slowly rose around him, his words appeared to be stirring a rebellious courage in them. They, too, turned defiant faces to the royal couple. “Those dragons we have killed, those Gaels we have bled were only the first...they were only an example of what we will do. You think yourself so safe and secure on your throne, Ashlynn Stuart, Elemental of Earth. It is a mantle you have worn arrogantly for many years, but for how much longer do you think it will protect you?”
Jaryn shot to his feet, fingers curled into fists. “You dare threaten your high queen in open court?”
The elf smirked. “She is no queen of mine.”
Giving a quick nod of decision, Jaryn unclenched his hands and tapped his fingers against his thighs to give himself the appearance of calm. “Very well. If it is an example you seek to make, it is my greatest desire to see that goal achieved. Before sundown this evening you will all hang for treason.” A flash of surprise crossed Ashlynn's face and she glanced at her husband. It took everything in her to regain her composure and turn her attention back to the prisoners. “Like your victims, you will be bled, gutted, and tossed to the wilds for the vultures to feed freely upon. Your families will never know what happened to you, only that you left them this morning and did not return. If they are lucky, they will be sent whatever is left of your rotted corpses once the feral animals have finished with you.” Lifting his eyes from the prisoners, Jaryn surveyed the room with his chin up and his chest out. “Siness will not tolerate the slaughter of innocent creatures. We will not sit idly by while men and women are murdered simply because of their race, and we most assuredly will not abide a bold allusion of intention of harm to the high queen.” His eyes moved back to the group, taking each one in before settling on the elf, whose demeanor hadn't changed in the slightest. “I do hope you are able to keep that smile for the next few hours because they will certainly be your last.” He sat back down, cold indifference on his face. “Take them away.”