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[Rough Draft] Chapter 105: A Tool of Fate
Serilda smiled down at the trembling forms of the once proud Lafearian King and Royal Consort. She had never tasted fear quite like this, from a King no less, although she had always had difficulty viewing Nicholas by that title, given her history with his father.
Now though, the arrogant boy barely dared to raise his hazel-blue eyes from the marble ballroom floor—at least, until she commanded him to do so.
“Look at me, Nicholas.” Serilda offered the mortal a motherly smile as she cupped his chin in her fingers. “Your reign is over, Nicholas Havardur, last of the Havardur kings. Do you understand?” His jaw clenched beneath her touch as muffled protests strained against his magically bound lips until he managed a single nod of understanding. “Good. Now, you and your wives will be escorted to the tower prison as befits your rank. All except—”
A deafening boom drew the Twilight purebloods around their coven leader protectively. The Marchioness turned and frowned as she watched Percy send the albino and his two remaining dogs crashing through the palace wall.
“All except for Eleanora, who signed a divorce decree before she abandoned the palace at dawn,” Serilda continued absently. Her moss-agate green eyes trailed behind the Witch King as he strode through the crumbling hole in the palace wall with a look sinister scowl. “What is it? What’s happened?”
“It’s Marquess Winifred, my Lady,” one of her purebloods murmured sympathetically. They parted cautiously, allowing her to view the floor up ahead, where several members of the Nocturnem Coven gathered around the unmoving figure of her future father-in-law.
A cold chill spread through Serilda’s stomach as she pushed her way past the Twilight Shadows assigned to her protection. She clenched her stomach, nausea rising at the memory of Kade Winifred’s proud smile just hours ago when the witch crones confirmed her pregnancy. Now her unborn child’s only living grandparent had been snatched away for no good reason, and—
The little she had managed to eat before the anticipated battle rose up at the back of Serilda’s throat as a familiar dull mocking laughter sounded in her ears. The purebloods supported her as the Marchioness doubled over to vomit on the marble floor.
“My—my fiancé,” Serilda hissed as she wiped the acid taste from her lips. “Find him and bring him to me.” Two Shadows bowed in silent obedience before their cloaked figures blurred through the battered balcony doors. “Take them to the tower and fetch the pregnant whore from Iris Palace as well.”
Nicholas seemed to rouse from his stupor at the mention of Rosamund, but Serilda ignored his muffled protests as she shook away the hands supporting her.
“Keep them in separate rooms. They are allowed one attendant each. The rest may join the nobles in the lower prisons.”
“As you command, my Lady.”
Serilda waved the bowing purebloods away with a flicker of annoyance as she strode toward the broken northern wall and the dim courtyard, overshadowed by the storm clouds above. She slowed down as she neared the breach, cautious of the chunks of debris in her path and hesitant to disturb her cousin, who appeared to be enthusiastically dismembering the albino kneeling before him.
She understood her cousin’s rage better than most, even if she felt nothing of the personal loss Percy must be going through. Serilda had smothered all such feelings of love and grief the day she buried the babe poisoned in her womb. Even now, conscious as she was of the new life growing within her, she felt nothing for it.
The Coven was overjoyed. A healthy child would only secure Serilda’s position going forward, as would her marriage to the child’s father, Eustice Winifred—who only lacked the ambition to inherit his father’s lands and political influence.
But none of that mattered to Serilda
No matter how hard the Marchioness tried to run from her feelings—to smother or redirect them toward a more appropriate replacement—the only person in this place, in all of Lafeara, that she genuinely gave a damn about was the cousin who had rescued her from the depths of hell itself.
When the blinding arrow burst across the courtyard like a phantom streak of lightning, Serilda stopped breathing. Four of her Shadows moved protectively around her, obstructing her view of the Witch King, who stared down at his chest in confusion.
A sharp, biting pain stabbed Serilda’s right hand, but she couldn’t look away. Percy and Ripper both collapsed into the shallow puddle of blood below them. Her cousin’s body writhed and thrashed, pale fingers clasping against the bloody pavement as his winter-gray eyes turned toward her. The blazing arrow in his chest flickered out of view as the Divine Huntress advanced upon the fallen Witch King.
‘No!’ Anger and denial shook the Marchioness from her stunned stupor as she shoved the useless purebloods in front of her aside. The winds of furry hissed past her clenched teeth as her quivering lips prepared to utter the Siren’s spell of destruction.
“Do not interfere!” Pain burst from Serilda’s right hand into her chest and lungs as the powerful voice whispered in her ears. “Percy has made his choice. You and your unborn child are the only hope that remains for the Covens of Lafeara. You are my new Witch Queen!”
A ragged, broken breath forced its way past the Marchioness’s paralyzed lips as she watched the foreign Zarus bitch bury another arrow in her dying cousin’s chest. Percy’s beautiful eyes widened ever so slightly before all life faded from them. Serilda’s vision blurred as the woman knelt, blonde hair spilling over a garment suspiciously similar to the one Lady Hana had been wearing. The Marchioness couldn’t move, and judging by the frozen purebloods around her, they were also similarly bound by the mysterious voice.
“Please,” Serilda pleaded. “Please, not like this! Percy doesn’t deserve to die alone!”
“It’s too late for goodbyes, my child,” the immortal murmured impassively as the Huntress, and her blazing bow turned in the Marchioness’s direction. “The ring on your right hand is proof. Percy has passed my blessing and his Coven to you.”
His words were like an arrow piercing through Serilda’s chest. She glanced down at the familiar onyx signet ring passed down through generations of Hawthorne fathers and sons. Her mind broke beneath the hypocrisy of it all. She didn’t deserve Percy’s ring any more than Percy deserved to be shot like a stag. Grief and rage rose like a storm within her as the magic locking her mouth and limbs in place slowly lost its grip. Serilda’s lips curled into a snarl. The divine light in the woman’s bow flickered unsteadily as the Huntress prepared to summon another arrow.
When Veles’s time-slowing magic finally relinquished its hold, the enraged scream of the Mad Queen decimated the courtyard before her, ripping up stone, pavement, shrub, and tree as the flickering light of Percy’s murderer snuffed out beneath the wailing storm that spun the would be Saintess high above the palace’s crown rooftop. Pain surged through Serilda’s throat as she gripped the Divine Huntress in her elemental grasp and flung the object of her rage down upon the spiked wrought iron railing of the palace’s perimeter wall.
Silence filled the swirling cloud of dust and debris as Serilda harnessed her scream. The purebloods, crouched around her with their hands pressed against their bleeding ears, rose slowly to steady the panting Witch Queen. Serilda flinched beneath their touch, overwhelmed by the awe and fearful reverence she could hear pulsing through their veins. She stared at the woman’s body, dangling over the fence, too numb and shaken to begin formulating her next move.
A faint cough snapped the Witch Queen’s moss-agate eyes to the Divine Huntress’s pale face. Blood dripped from the corner of the woman’s mouth as she smiled—with a visible look of relief.
“She’s still alive?” One of the purebloods whispered in disbelief as a shiver of fear ran through all of them. The Huntress’s bow, which had fallen to the ground beneath her, flickered briefly—before a bolt of destructive wrath descended to eviscerate both the woman and her divine weapon, leaving only a scorched hole in the ground where they and the stone metal fence had once been.
***
Carina paused halfway down the palace steps as a booming sound echoed through Lily Palace behind her.
“What was that?” Linby whispered cautiously as he stepped away from the pale Viscountess, hidden beneath the Scarlet Witch’s cloak.
“I don’t know,” Carina murmured. The same unease tickled in her chest like a half-spoken whisper that something— “Something’s not right.”
“Aye. The air doesn’t feel right—and look at that sky,” the elite ice witch murmured, nodding towards the darkening horizon. “Perhaps the Storm Witches have found the Pope quicker than expected.”
“Storm Witchs don’t control lightning.” The Scarlet Witch and Viscount exchanged knowing looks. Carina’s arm around Hana’s waist clenched before she turned the exhausted young woman to face her. “Hana, I need to go check on something. I’m leaving you with Viscount Linby, who will take you to the Ice Coven.”
“No!” Hana gasped weakly as she clung to the Scarlet Witch’s arms. “Don’t—leave me.”
“There is nothing to be afraid of,” Carina murmured as she reached up to tidy the loose strands of blonde hair that fell over the Viscountess’s half-closed eyes. “They have sworn an oath to me and will allow no harm to come to you.”
“No! I want to stay with you!”
“It’s not safe here, Hana. Linby, fetch the carriage. She’s far too weak to handle teleportation.”
“Then don’t go!” Carina flinched as the Viscountess raised her head. Golden crimson tears trailed down the pale woman’s cheeks, blending into the curve of her mouth as she sobbed. “I’m afraid, Kirsi. I’m afraid that if you leave—I won’t see you again!”
The prickle of warning in the Scarlet Witch’s chest hardened into an icy dagger of understanding. “What is it? What’s wrong? Is it—is it Ramiel?”
The Viscountess swallowed her tears as she nodded wordlessly. Her trembling hands reached up to clutch the hood of the Duchess’s cape before she dragged it down over her eyes. “I-I can hear him. In-inside my head, and he—he’s so angry with me—” Hana’s words slurred together, rising in sharp hisses only to fall into barely coherent whispers, “—I don’t know what to do. It’s like he’s pounding against my chest and screaming inside my head—I just want it to stop, Kirsi!”
“Your Grace,” Linby muttered sharply. A single look at the elite ice witch was all it took for the Scarlet Witch to read the intent behind the veteran’s hardened expression.
“No, Linby. You’ve sworn to me!” Carina moved between them quickly and pressed a cautioning finger against the Viscount’s chest. “Go back to the Coven. Send a message to Captain Silas to advance to the capital but no further. His company should be more than enough to support the Covens if the Duke’s army wants to give us a fight. We will maintain the safety of the capital’s residents and the security of the fortress wall, but no more. Let Percy handle this mess.” She gestured dismissively to the destroyed palace beyond them.
“We both know what approaches from the northern borders,” Linby pressed cautiously, his icy gaze never leaving Hana’s bowed head. “Does your order for Colonel Tybalt to remain there still stand?”
“Yes.” The Scarlet Witch’s gaze hardened as she clenched her fists. “Take the Coven with you and support Colonel Tybalt and his men until I arrive to greet our uninvited guests.”
The elite ice witch exhaled slowly. “And Bastiallano?”
“Captain Arlo can defend it well enough with our stockade of muskets and rifles,” Carina reasoned. “The walls of Bastiallano will not fall so easily to a cowardly Pope and a few dozen witch hunters, even if my troops are stretched thin. I will return there myself to update him on current events and see to Hana’s recovery—and Ivy’s health.”
“But you cannot just leave Lafeara’s throne to Percy Hawthorne! Gaining the faith and support of a kingdom is one of the requirements to becoming a—”
An unholy scream ripped through the gloomy atmosphere, swallowing the tail end of Linby’s statement as one of the enchanted jewels on the Scarlet Witch’s metal corset shattered. Carina instinctively spun to cover Hana’s ears as the Viscountess toppled beneath the howling winds that gathered around Lily Palace with threatening velocity.
The inhuman wail continued, layers upon layers of anguish and fury building into an ear-rupturing blast that shattered the remaining glass windows of the palaces as well as those of the nearby House of Lords. Linby hastily erected the ice shield around them as the lethal ghost-like splinters rained down around them.
The panicked shriek of horses came from the Royal Garden beyond the palace gates. The Coven Witches who stood guard at the entrance to Lily Palace’s courtyard doubled over as they covered their ears in a desperate attempt to staunch its merciless assault.
As quickly as the bloodthirst gale emerged, it dissipated, leaving a dull echoing ring in Carina’s ears as she raised her head and shoulders cautiously from Hana’s bowed back. In the distorted void of silence, the Scarlet Witch’s gaze fell upon the glass scattered across the palace steps around them. Her pale winter-blue eyes narrowed as the shards trembled, then vibrated visibly against the surface. Every hair on her arm and neck stood on end as Carina’s gaze snapped warily toward the clouds above them.
A thunderous bolt of radiant energy shot down from the heavens to strike the northern courtyard of Lily Palace. The unholy energy rolled away from the site of impact in waves that shook the already battered remains of Lily Palace and illuminated the other royal palaces and battered House of Lords in a pale, deathly glow.
The Scarlet Witch blinked against the harsh glare even as she turned and raised her hand to shield her eyes. Though the tumultuous din that pervaded her senses and the giant cloud of dust that rained down upon them from the palace rooftop, she barely registered the figure of the Viscountess, who now stood above her.
“Hana, what are you—” Carina’s voice faltered as her gaze locked with the pair of unfamiliar, cold, golden orbs that burned into her from beneath the Viscountess’s disheveled golden curls.
“We meet again, Scarlet Witch!”
Viktor’s bracelet vibrated violently against the Scarlet Witch’s wrist. Carina blinked slowly, registering the coiled band of electricity in Hana’s hand that took on the familiar form of a divine bow. Linby’s cold grip dug into the Duchess’s shoulder as he yanked her back. A golden arrow that sparked with holy fury blossomed at the edge of Hana’s fingers. Every cell in Carina’s body screamed at her to move, to defend herself—even as her mind forcefully denied the threat before her.
Isaac emerged as the chill of cold magic wrapped itself protectively around the stunned Scarlet Witch. The scriva’s massive jaws snapped down on Hana’s bow and arms mere moments before the bolt of divine energy ruptured through the giant wolf’s head.
Linby scrambled backward, dragging the stunned Duchess along with him as the elemental figure of the proud Pope killer shattered and disintegrated in much the same way as the half-witch’s noble soul.
Carina flinched as Hana laughed. Blood poured freely from the whipped wounds in the Viscountess’s arms, its crimson hue shifting to a vivid gold as the injuries rapidly healed themselves.
“Damn it. I can’t teleport us out of here, Kirsi!” Linby hissed furiously. “The bloody Saint has turned this entire courtyard into holy ground!”
The Scarlet Witch nodded mutely. His words solidified what her eyes refused to accept. Hana flexed her repaired limbs as the bow shifted into the familiar shape of a golden spear. The Saint turned her burning gaze upon the two ice witches once more and smiled mockingly as if awaiting their next move.
“Hana?” Carina whispered, shaking off Linby’s grip before rising to her feet. “You can’t—you don’t need to do this!”
“What are you doing?” Linby hissed as he canceled the ice shield around them and summoned his sword.
“You and I are not enemies, Hana! I don’t want to hurt you! I would never hurt you!”
“Never?” The Saint’s lips curled into a cynical smile of disgust. “Has she not suffered enough because of you? Because of your vainglorious pride and hypocritic sense of justice? You were supposed to protect her in this life, but you couldn’t resist playing the hero. You used her blood to prolong the life and agony of your little maid and hundreds of other mortals—all to redeem a hundred years of witch cruelty and corruption. You’re no better than Jericho and his church or the Covens.”
Thunder rumbled through the dark clouds above them as the first scattering of rain began to fall. Carina bit her lip as she met the blinding, judging foreign gaze of the woman before her—unable to shake the sting of the Saint’s accusations.
“Yo-you’re right. I am foolish—vainglorious—and perhaps even a hypocrite. But I love you, Hana. I would never force you to do anything you didn’t want to do. And I’m sorry—if you felt pressured to give your blood to help me—and Ivy. I won’t ask it of you again—”
“Too late!”
Carina clenched her teeth, forcing back a torrent of angry words as she tried to see past the divine aura that coated the Saint’s body and smothered any remnant of her friend’s soul. “Please, Hana! I won’t give up on you now. No matter what anyone says. I know who you are, and this—this isn’t you! You are kindness itself, selfless, and forgiving to a fault. You’re the reason I risked everything to enter the palace and fought so hard to build up Frost’s empire—so that I could find a way to get you out and keep you safe!”
“I know!” The cold, oddly masculine voice sniggered. “Why do you think I allowed her to survive this long?”
The Scarlet Witch’s heart clenched in fury and helplessness as the name of the immortal she addressed became clear. “Please—let her go!”
“And what would be the enjoyment in that?” the god snickered as he brushed Hana’s golden curls over her shoulder with an imperious grin. “I’d rather keep her along for the experience. Consider it punishment for rebelling against me for so long. The last thing either of you will witness before I take your life is the death of the other—the only fitting end for a tainted Saint and Viktor’s Scarlet Bitch!”
“I already said—that I won’t hurt her, Ramiel.”
“Shame.” The Immortal shook his head with an almost sympathetic sigh as he touched Hana’s chest with his left hand. “You should hear how desperately she is screaming for you or me to kill her—before I make her kill you!”
“You sick, twisted, perverted bastard!”
Ramiel extended Hana’s left wrist, and a lightning bolt descended from the sky. Linby lunged forward, summoning the ice shield once more as he grabbed Carina’s waist. Through the blur of blinding movements, Carina blinked over the elite ice witch’s shoulder to find the Saint gone. A teasing flicker of divine energy cracked through the air around them before Linby hurled the Scarlet Witch from his arms across the courtyard.
Carina rolled and slid, regaining her balance instinctively, only to watch as the Saint and her spear crashed through Linby’s ice shield and impaled the ice witch through his chest onto the place steps. Another gem on the Duchess’s corset snapped and splintered as yet another of her protective enchantments failed.
The Scarlet Saint stood rigidly in place as Linby’s body disintegrated in much the same way Isaac’s elemental form had. She was losing at this rate, and badly at that—but the only choice left was one Carina couldn’t face.
It didn’t matter that Hana had become a tool in the hands of a powerful immortal determined to end Kirsi’s life. Hana was blameless! Just as Ivy was innocent! And Carina wasn’t about to sacrifice the lives of her friends just because of the god’s manipulations.
‘So what do I do then? Run away? Abandon Hana to—him?’
The Saint ripped her spear free from the shattered palace steps and rolled her right shoulder as she turned to where the Scarlet Witch had been thrown. “You’re not putting up much of a fight, Kirsi. I must say I’m underwhelmed. I can only imagine how disappointed Viktor would be if he saw you now.”
“I wonder if the other gods are aware that you’re down here—breaking the rules,” Carina countered through gritted teeth. Her words caused the immortal to falter just as he reached the bottom step.
The Saint’s brows furrowed, the light within her golden eyes flickering for the briefest of moments as if weighing the importance of her words. “It’s not as if any of them are strong enough to stand in my way. Most will look the other way if they know what’s good for them. Those that don’t will be dealt with once I’ve settled my score with you.”
‘What score?’ Carina raised a brow before continuing grimly. “I wasn’t talking about the gods tied to this world.”
Ramiel’s grip on the Saint’s weapon tightened as he strode towards her. “It doesn’t matter what you say, you treacherous bitch. Do you know why? Because once your dead, not even they will say or do anything about the matter! You were given a chance to ascend, just like the rest of us, and you—failed.”
The Scarlet Witch flinched as the spear cut through the corset as easily as a dagger piercing a ripe apple. Confusion surfaced upon the Saint’s face as Ramiel reached out instinctively to catch the falling, grievously wounded ice witch.
“You—why would you—” Ramiel’s voice faltered and then softened as Hana’s panicked turquoise-blue eyes emerged. “Kirsi!”
“You should learn a person’s name before you go around stabbing them,” Carina teased, her voice cracking faintly beneath the pain spreading throughout her already weakening physical form. “And Ramiel should know better—it’s—not that easy—to kill a God.” One by one, the gems on the Scarlet Witch’s corset shattered as the elders of her coven sacrificed their immortality to ensure their Queen’s survival. Carina buried all thoughts of guilt and anger as she clung to the Saint’s shoulder and neck.
Hana sobbed brokenly as she pulled the divine spear free and flung the holy relic away from them. Her golden tears rained down on the Scarlet Witch’s cheeks as she draped her arms around the ice witch’s broken body, cradling her across her lap where she pressed a hand against the flow of cold, crimson blood escaping through the witch’s broken corset. “I—I can’t—Ramiel won’t let me heal you!”
“It’s all right, Hana,” Carina murmured as she pulled the Saint’s tear-stained face closer. “It’s not your fault.” The Saint’s lips tasted like spring honey and sweet sunlight. Carina offered her friend one last reassuring smile as her vision began to blur beneath the glow of her frozen heart’s core magic. “This is not goodbye. Tell Ramiel—I am coming for him. Tell him that the end of the gods—is nearly here.”