Bellamy took her hand and guided her back to the wyvern at a jog, not allowing her to stop and take in any more of Tamarac. She hoped that she’d be able to come back some day but hopped back up onto the wyvern without complaint. She saw dark and angry-looking storm clouds in the distance and jumped a little when she heard a rumble of thunder followed by the quick flash of lightning.
Riding the wyvern was much different this time—it flew at a breakneck speed, rushing to beat the storm. At times, they were so close to the ground that she thought the wyvern’s claws might just be scraping the dirt below. This time, she was extremely grateful when they landed on solid ground, a significant contrast from how she felt the first time.
Despite this, she was pleased to be back in Aeôs. Even though she’d been gone for such a short time, it felt sort of like she was returning home. She thought about all the people in this city—how happy they were, and how everyone lived in peace with one another. It truly was an incredible feat. She thought that if she lived here, she’d never do anything to risk getting banished from such a welcoming place and wondered if Scorpio felt any semblance of shame or regret. If he did, she thought, he probably hid it with so much disdain for Aeôs and its people that one would never know how he truly felt.
A loud bell rang seemingly out of nowhere, startling her out of her thoughts. The booming sound made people in the streets stop in their tracks. Bellamy muttered, “We didn’t make it in time...”
Shiloh looked to him, asking “What is that...?” It didn’t sound like church bells, and it was coming from atop the castle walls—where now, she could see a fire lit in the corner nearest to their location.
It was a warning.
“We have to hide. Now.” Bellamy’s normally carefree and smile-plastered face had turned serious. She immediately felt at near panic seeing it.
“I have to get back to the castle! Sagit—“
“There isn’t any time. You’ll get killed out there. Come on!” He tugged on her arm more violently than he intended to, but it got the message across. He led her into a large building—a temple of some sort, it looked like—and they ran in between the pews, looking for a place to hide. He told her to hunch down behind a large winged effigy in a corner of the temple, and he promptly ran off to position himself behind a large wooden pillar off to the side. There was barely enough space to fit him between the pillar itself and the wall, but he managed. From behind the effigy, she could still see him, just barely. He had pulled out two matching daggers, and his eyes were locked on the doors.
“What’s happening? Why is the city being attacked?” she hissed at him in a loud whisper from across the room.
“They found out that you’re alive. I saw one of Scorpio’s minions in Tamarac.” Her new friend looked tortured and fearful. She felt her heart drop at his words. She didn’t want to be the reason that he was so terrified—or the reason for anybody’s terror at all, much less death. She suddenly felt sick.
Before she could even finish processing her thoughts, the large wooden doors were kicked open with a loud bang. From her hiding spot, she could see a group of soldiers strutting into the temple. They destroyed everything they touched, as if they had made a vow to wreak as much havoc of they possibly could. Shiloh wondered if they would destroy her. She had no weapons and had never been in a fight in her life. What would she do if they found her?
She didn’t want to die afraid and on her knees; she knew that much.
She propped herself up on the balls of her feet and was glad for a fleeting moment that she had kept her sneakers on for this jaunt. And she waited.
Once one of them got close enough, she would attack. She remembered what her human father had told her to do if anyone had tried to take her. ‘Go for the eyes,’ he had said. He had always said it to her in a semi-joking manner, but it wasn’t bad advice. Still, she never thought she’d have to do it. Even the idea of it made her shiver in disgust.
One of the attackers was getting dangerously close to where Bellamy had told her to hide. He was so close, as soon as he decided to duck around the statue to check, she would be done for. He had a bow in hand, already with an arrow in place, and a large weapon on his belt—something that looked like what she would call a scimitar, and the end of it was sharply curved. It was hung from his belt in a sheath, easily accessible. She found herself holding her breath as he inched closer and closer.
Another soldier shouted out something unintelligible from across the room, but it was enough to distract him into facing away from investigating her corner, at least for now.
She didn’t think. There was no time for that. She kicked him, hard, as hard as she could, in the vulnerable spot on the back of his right knee, bringing him down to the floor swiftly with a shocked “Guh!” She grabbed his head as he came down, pulling it towards her and mashing his skull to the ground, his legs trapped beneath him. She unsheathed the weapon on his belt, feeling incredibly unnatural in the moment, and held it against his neck—too close, because it was so sharp that he began to bleed lightly from his neck, even with such a gentle touch.
Then, she made the mistake of looking into his eyes. He was young and terrified. His skin was a strange shade of red, and it was rough—almost scaly, but not quite. He looked otherwise humanoid, especially from the look of terror on his face. Even someone so hell-bent on destruction was afraid of death. She wondered what could have possibly made him align himself with this force of evil. Maybe he didn’t know any better.
It only took seconds for his companions to realize what was happening and rush over scarily fast. They looked like a mismatched band of outsiders. Some were battle-scarred, some looked too young to even be out of their childhood homes. She imagined that something must have gone terribly wrong for them to even be here, dressed as soldiers, trying to annihilate a city that had done them no wrong.
“STOP.”
A voice boomed from behind them, and the horde of attackers stopped in their tracks. The small crowd parted in the middle to allow a massive form to come through. He must have been at least seven feet tall and as wide as a truck. His face was covered in scars, and his eyes were pure black—not just his irises, but the entire eyes. His presence commanded respect, and by the looks of the group around him, he had earned it. The once jeering crowd had gone completely silent. He eyed her up and down in a way that made her skin crawl. And then a malicious smile graced his face.
He turned to the soldiers behind him. “We have found our prize, gentlemen!” Those predatory eyes found their way back to her face, and she felt herself cringe under his gaze. He knew.
“Take one step towards me, and I’ll kill him.” Her voice sounded stronger than she felt, but she pressed the sharp edge deeper into her captive’s skin. He whimpered beneath her. But to her dismay, her threat was greeted by a loud laugh that bounced off of the walls of the church. He stepped her way purposefully, black eyes looking into her soul. “Kill him.”
A chill ran down her spine. He had called her bluff—she hadn’t thought about what she’d do either way, but she had used the only leverage she knew she had. She felt the boy below her shudder and looked down at him. Tears slid down the sides of his face from underneath closed eyelids. He whispered, “Please”.
She knew immediately that she couldn’t do it. Even if he was on the wrong side, killing a boy wouldn’t make her any better than he was—especially if his death wouldn’t save her anyway. She removed the blade from his neck and slumped backwards in defeat. She had no cards left to play. The boy hurried to his feet and rushed to join the rest of his people, but before he could blend into the crowd, the leader of the group placed a massive, heavy hand on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks almost violently. He pushed downwards, and the boy was forced to his knees.
“What do you think should happen to you?”
The boy—suddenly shaking, looked up at the monster of a man, pleading. “Please. I—I was distracted. I’m sorry—“
“You allowed
a little girl to use your life as a bargaining chip. You are no soldier.” The boy began to cry, his hunched shoulders shaking with every sob.
“Do you see this?” the leader addressed the crowd once again, unsheathing his blade and pointing it at the boy’s hunched figure. “This is weakness, and this is cowardice.” The crowd jeered. They held no loyalty to the boy, no friendship, and no compassion.
“And this is what happens to cowards.”
Shiloh closed her eyes tightly and heard the blade swing through the air, followed by a hollow thump of the boy’s body hitting the wooden floorboards. The soldiers seemed to rejoice in the slaying of this young boy. She couldn’t imagine what had made them this way.
“I guess it’s just you now,” the black-eyed man said, and she had to force herself not to look in order to not draw attention to her hidden friend, but it was too late. With the attention all on her, Bellamy had launched himself out of his hiding place, daggers drawn, and swinging. At first, he looked like his element of surprise had given him an advantage—she saw two soldiers slumped onto the ground at his feet, and he wasn’t done. He fought with such grace that it looked like a dance, but there were just too many. The daggers were knocked out of his hands, one after the other, and the group of soldiers had him subdued. She wished that he had stayed hidden, because he may have been safe if they’d just taken her and gone.
Two soldiers wrenched Bellamy to his feet, his arms secured by each of the two men, and dragged him towards their leader.
“Well then, what do we have here? A friend?” Shiloh’s heart dropped into her stomach. Bellamy had a look of horror that she’d never seen before. She was sure he was about to be slaughtered in the same fashion as the boy who had chosen to align himself with Scorpio’s servants. “Speak, elf.”
Bellamy raised his head to meet the man’s eye line. His face turned to one of dissent, if not outright anger. But he said nothing. This small act of defiance was met by a sharp jab in the gut with the handle of a blade. Doubled-over, but still held in place by the soldiers— Bellamy spat on the shoes of the leader—“Do it,” he said through gritted teeth. Shiloh felt like she was in a horror movie, frozen, only able to watch as the story unfold in front of her.
“Just DO IT.” Bellamy shouted, louder this time and with fury that she didn’t think that he’d had in him. He had always seemed so gentle and free, but this was a different side of him she hadn’t yet had the chance to see.
The man in front of him smirked, unaffected. “Well. If you insist.” He raised his blade. Shiloh struggled to her feet faster than she had ever moved before. She wasn’t going to watch her friend die. “STOP.”
The blade lowered slightly as its wielder turned to face her, unsurprised and uncaring. She gripped her own blade that she had taken off of the belt of the murdered soldier tightly in her right hand, suddenly very aware of all the eyes on her. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? Do you like this one?”
Ignoring his question, she posed her own: “He wants me alive, doesn’t he?”
The silence and disgruntled look on his face in response to her question gave her the answer she needed. She thought she might just have one last bit of leverage.
“That’s what I thought.” She looked down briefly at the blade in her hand, before bringing it to her own neck this time. “You kill him, I kill myself. I bet that won’t go over too well with your boss.” For the first time, he looked like he wasn’t in control.
He looked at her in disgust. “An elf is that important to you?”
“I dare you to find out.”
She didn’t wait for his response. She pressed the blade into her skin and gasped, feeling hot blood drip down her neck surprisingly quickly. It really only required the softest touch to draw blood.
His disgust only grew, but something in his eyes said that it was working. Seconds lasted hours, and she ventured to press harder into her skin—daring him to say nothing and let her die.
Then, “Let him go.”
She let the weapon drop to her side and held a hand against her neck where she was bleeding. The two soldiers dropped Bellamy’s arms, and he stood still. “Shiloh, I can’t leave you here to—“
“Please,” she begged, “Go. Be safe.”
“No—“
“Bellamy,” she met his eyes, and with an unmistakable finality in her voice, she said one more time: “Go.”
He hesitated, maybe waiting for some sign that he should stay, but she looked at him with no emotion in her face. Even with whatever happened next, she needed him to be safe. He walked out quickly—sidestepping the group of soldiers who leered at him as he passed. Shiloh let out a sigh of relief and dropped her weapon to the floor. There was nothing else to do but let them take her.
“You’re lucky Scorpio wants to take your life himself. Otherwise, that little show you put on wouldn’t have worked,” the leader growled as he motioned for one of his minions to tie her hands, “Do not try it again. I’ll kill you without a second thought.” She let her hands be tied with an old rope in front of her, so tightly that she could almost immediately feel the circulation being cut off in her hands. She figured they didn’t care much either way if she had working hands or not.
“Ekon. Kwan. I’m assuming you can handle this.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ve got something I need to do. Take her straight back. Do not stop for anything. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
She felt hands on either of her shoulders as she was led towards the doors to the temple. Where her mind should have been racing with ways to escape these two thugs, she felt strangely calm and resigned to her fate.
The doors to the temple opened, and the wall of smoke seemed to hit her in the face immediately. She saw houses engulfed in flames. The streets were filled with people—running, screaming, fighting. Soldiers on both sides fought. There were bodies strewn on the ground. Death was in the air.
She was guided into a human-sized, metal cage on a small cart drawn by a horse. The horse looked hellish. It was black and bony, with stark white eyes that did not appear to have irises at all—she wondered if it were blind. But it smelled rancid, as if it were already dead. In front of the cart they had locked her in, she was horrified to see that there were other carts, just like hers—but filled with the citizens of this city too weak to fight for their own freedom. She even saw children, crying inconsolably, and her heart sank. No one was safe from Scorpio’s tyranny.
Chapter Eight
As she was pulled through the city by the demonic horse, the pain of loss and fear permeated the air further, and she felt responsible. Scorpio had found out that she was there and had come to take her at any cost. And what was worse, was that these monsters seemed to enjoy it.
She saw doors to homes being kicked in, windows being shattered, and stores being ravaged. The city was taken off guard, but she wished desperately that all hope was not lost. Or at the very least, that the destruction would be called off once everyone knew that she was in their custody. These people did not deserve this. She would have gone willingly if she had known that this is what would happen when they came for her.
Shiloh began to notice the streets looking particularly familiar. She realized quickly that she was nearby the bakery--where she had happily scarfed down pastries only hours ago. It felt like ages ago, now an entirely different world. It seemed impossible that this place full of death and destruction was the same city.
And then she saw Stella in the distance. She was surrounded by Scorpio's warriors. Corpses burned almost beyond recognition, scattered at their feet. Soldiers formed a shield around two mages, appearing to be protecting them. They stood out, as they were not wearing the same heavy armor the soldiers were wearing. They donned billowy robes overtop of light, leather armor and carried no weapons that she could see.
Stella’s eyes flared hot, fire seeping out of them with tremendous power. She still looked like the same Stella who had fed her fresh bread with j
oy but larger and stronger, her hair was a jet of fire, and she had even more fire pouring out of her hands, forming blades. Shiloh could even feel the immense heat from where she was in the cage.
Stella nimbly danced in and out of the surrounding soldiers—graceful and swift despite her age, cutting down those that stood before her. It was almost beautiful, if not considering the circumstances. From Shiloh’s vantage point, it looked like she was fighting to get towards the mages in the back lines. The soldiers blocked and parried her advances, their weapons glowing with an enchantment that somehow allowed them to fend off the heat of their attacker.
Shiloh could see why Stella was fighting so urgently to get to the mages. One of them summoned massive ice shards that flew through the air and smashed into Stella violently while she was busy fighting the rest of the soldiers. Another mage was chanting spells, giving the soldiers increased protection from the fires. More soldiers poured out of a side street rapidly—reinforcements to bolster the vanguard protecting their magic casters. They must have called for more help when they realized what kind of power they were dealing with.
Two more mages accompanied the new group of troops, and they quickly set to casting a spell—together, they chanted, reading from a grimoire floating steadily in midair before them while the others kept Stella distracted.
Runes appeared in the air above Stella’s head, and she clenched her fists by her sides, engulfed in flame. The flames grew in size and intensity. When she thrust her arms upwards, a massive ring of fire spread outwards with no resistance that seemed to encase the entire street. Soldiers were knocked off their feet by the force of it, and others caught fire and screamed in agony. But it was too late. The mages had completed their spell, and Stella was immediately immersed in a sphere of water that submerged her completely. It seemed to be magnetized to her, trying to drown her. Steam radiated off of the sphere as she tried to boil off the water with her power, glowing brightly from within.
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