I grind my teeth at the sight of the Savage King's empty chair, thinking of all the pain and death he's caused for so many. Myself included.
After the Battle of Brecca was extinguished and their King was killed, Queen Adelphia, along with the other rulers, cut off all trade and communication with Brecca. All men who were captured were immediately executed for their treasonous acts, but unfortunately a few escaped. Baffled by their newfound strength and their ability to neutralize our magic, all members of the Kings Council prepared for war against the aggressive humans, but all plans were waylaid when they arrived.
When the first Soulless came through the Cursed Woods, we weren’t sure what they were. Some believed them to be ill, but only when the first person was bitten and they turned themselves, did we realize what they were: Demons.
Immortals and fae, as well as our human inhabitants, fought and died as they hacked, stabbed, and burned the creatures, but they still kept coming. It took many deaths to realize that the only way to kill the creatures was to stab it in the heart or brain. Then they came in waves.
It was a frightening time for our kingdoms, not knowing where these demons came from or how they came to be, until we noticed the lone living creature amongst the undead. The man was a human, stronger and faster than any immortal, and he carried the Goddess of Death’s mark upon his cheek, a swirled rune filled with ruby flecked, black shadows. Seeing Death’s rune marking his cheek, we realized then that even though King Rainier had lost the Battle of Brecca and didn’t hold up his end of the goddess’ bargain, Desdemona had still chosen to grant her Gifts to Brecca.
But a Cursed Gift it was.
With glowing crimson eyes and extended fangs, the Gods Cursed man was more powerful than any being we have ever encountered before as he wielded his Death Shadows without recourse, killing dozens with a single flick of his wrist. He commanded his troops of Soulless and he, too, barbarically drank the blood of an immortal. And once the Cursed bled him dry, we watched in horror as the immortal’s discarded, twitching corpse transitioned right before our eyes into a feral Soulless.
Nothing we did to the Gods Cursed would kill him. Not even when we stabbed him in the heart or brain like we did his Soulless slaves. At this point, having no way to attack or defend against the Cursed, our outlook was bleak. Until, to everyone's astonishment, the Gods Cursed eventually just left, unharmed and of his own accord, leaving behind dozens of Soulless. We then destroyed all the remaining Soulless, and when it appeared as if the attacks had ended, we built our walls and fortified our defenses.
Fortunately, we've seen less than a handful of Gods Cursed in the last thirty-four years. They don’t venture far from Brecca, and besides those who call the Mandala Mountains and the Cursed Woods home, Soulless attacks are few and far between. That’s why today’s events are so alarming. The frequency and numbers of the attacks could be a precursor to change. A change that won't bode well for anyone.
Sensing the frosty gaze boring into the side of my cheek, I glance in the direction of the hosting monarch and realize my error.
Queen Adelphia of Cascadonia sits regally in her crystal throne-like chair at the head of the table. Garbed in a teal and gold stitched gown, her long blonde hair is partially pinned up with small braids intertwined throughout. With high cheekbones, porcelain skin, and pale green eyes, she's considered gorgeous even amongst our attractive race. And judging off the Water immortal’s scowl and her illuminated aquamarine and starlight jewels, she clearly has no intention of forgiving me.
Should've come directly from patrol, covered in Soulless blood.
After staring at me long enough to convey her displeasure, she returns her attention to the adjoining royals.
Theon leans into me, ducking his head to whisper in my ear. “You're late.”
“I'm well aware.”
“She's furious.”
I snort. “When is she not furious with me?” Staring at the center of the table, I set my elbow on the armrest and rest my chin in my palm, partially shielding my lips. “I ran into trouble during patrol.”
“You shouldn't have scheduled yourself the same day as a Kings Council,” he says, shaking his head in exasperation. “You shouldn't even be patrolling. You're the Captain of the Guards. Delegate.”
Ignoring the Prince’s reprimand, I peek at him out of the corner of my eye. “There was an ambush.”
He stiffens, his brows pinching. “That's the fourth time this month.”
Nodding my head, I notice the royals’ discussions beginning to taper off. “Did you speak with her?”
Sighing, Theon leans back in his chair and turns away, avoiding my gaze. “Yes.”
When he adds nothing more, I press, “Well?”
“She's not planning to touch on the topic today,” he grudgingly admits, eyeing me with a dubious expression.
“Why the fuck not?” I snap.
“Lower your voice,” he warns, his dark green eyes anxiously bouncing from one ruler to the next.
Noticing I’ve caught the attention of the rulers nearby, including Queen Adelphia herself, I inhale a deep, calming breath.
“She thinks it makes us appear weak,” Theon says. “She won't look weak in front of the other monarchs.”
I scrub my hands over my face. “I don't care how it makes us look. They have to prepare.” Gesturing to the royals with a jerk of my hand, I hiss, “How can they protect their people if they're not even made aware?”
“I agree with you,” he says in a soothing tone, patting my arm. “But she won't change her mind.” Shaking his head, he returns his gaze forward, dismissing me.
Frustrated, I listen to the tedious discussions of the Kings Council. Not of defenses, trade, or even the welfare of their people. Oh no, the most powerful beings of Vanyimar gossip about gowns, balls, and limber new mistresses. Not a single topic of substance.
Temper spiking with each moment that passes, I have no more shits left to give when everyone stands to their feet, signaling the end of the meeting.
“I'd like to bring a matter to everyone’s attention.”
They pause halfway out of their chairs and stare, blinking slowly. I can only assume their surprise is due to the fact that I've never uttered a single word during these meetings, but I could be wrong.
Queen Adelphia hasn’t moved to stand, but at my words her back stiffens and her head slowly swivels in my direction. “I believe we've covered every topic scheduled today,” she bites out.
I highly doubt which king is fucking which servant was a scheduled topic of discussion.
“I'll have to insist.” Based off the storm brewing within her gaze, if there weren't others present to witness it, I have no doubt she would’ve blasted me with a wave of water, shattering my bones and pulverizing my organs in the process.
Dismissing her without a second thought, I return my attention forward, waiting patiently for the monarchs to return to their seats and all eyes to focus on me. “When I was on patrol today, me and two other guards were ambushed by a group of Soulless.”
“That's not uncommon,” Queen Celene of Arcadia says, her lips turned down into a confused frown. “Your borders are pressed up against the Cursed Woods. Your people hunt there regularly.”
Tapping my finger on the armrest, I pause before adding, “There were eight of them.”
