Chapter 1 - HE IS HERE
BOOMMMMM!
The horn tore through the night.
Ismena froze. The flame flickered. Her gaze darted to the sun flower framed in glass.
Dark.
Still.
Her breath hitched at the realization, tears fogged her sight and she staggered to her, knocking over the vase behind her.
"It's not glowing," she mumbled, her body trembling.
The horn tore through the night again and her head jerked in the direction of the sound. Only for her to look back at the flower.
It was still not glowing.
Suddenly everything around her felt too loud, too much.
Something was wrong.
"Your Majesty!" A guard rushed into her chambers, his voice blending into the chaos.
She turned her back to him instead, ripped the red curtains aside and hurried to the balcony.
She could hear the approaching army, feel the ground shake from the weight of their movement, their weapons, their presence.
Scattered fire from torches a good distance away, chanting me that consumed the night, and a blue piece of cloth on a stick.
Ismena blinked. Raced right back into the room, to that flower that remain frozen in its darkness.
"Your Majesty!" Her handmaidens rushed in. "The King—-"
"NO!" She yelled, hot tears streaming down the corners of her eyes. "Get out of my way!"
She pushed past them, her movement frantic.
They called after her, but she did not stop. She ignored the pain that dug into her feet as she ran down the stairs, to the front of the castle, where the returning army had now drawn closer to.
Armours.
Swords.
Shields.
Arrows.
Horses.
Warriors.
Yet none was him.
'VICTORY TO RAGMA!' The chanting increased. 'VICTORY!"
'VICTORY TO RAGMA!'
'VICTORY!"
Victory?
Ismena staggered back, her heart constraining with pain, her hand clenching into fist against her chest.
VICTORY?!
"Where is he?" She mumbled so lowly she almost didn't hear her own voice.
"WHERE IS HE?" Her voice crashed against the chanting, drawing all the attention to her.
"I. SAID." She took a step forward, "WHERE IS YOUR KING?!"
"Your Majesty," the second in command came down from is horse. His eyes accusing her of insanity, foretelling an explanation she did not want to hear.
So, she turned her back to him and turned to the others.
"WHERE IS MY HUSBAND—" Her voice broke with grief. "Please where is he—-"
The sound of something crashing open consumed her words.
Ismena turned quickly in the direction of the noise. The warriors and the horses pulled back, creating a pathway to a big iron cage coated in silver, its door flung open.
When Ismena's gaze fell upon the person who stood in the doorway, everything fell into place. Her heart soared with joy and her feet raced towards him.
He met her halfway. Pulled her against him. Sealed his lips against hers.
They pulled away when they were short of breath. He pressed his forehead against hers, his warmth bathing her face, as he threaded his fingers through her hair.
"I thought—-" Tears ran down her cheeks. "Haron, I was——"
"Never." He raised her chin so her eyes met his. "I promised, didn't I? I will always come back to you."
"But the flower did not glow."
A small frown fell upon his features. "What flower."
Her heart skipped a beat. Then she shook her head quickly and pulled him in for a kiss.
He did not resist.
This time when they pulled away, he turned to his people, half of whom were making kissy faces to one another.
"PEOPLE OF RAGMA!" He declared.
Voice powerful.
Commanding.
Demanding obedience that cannot be resisted.
Silence.
They listened.
"ON THIS THIRD NIGHT OF THE BLUE MOON, IN THE YEAR OF STONE!" Haron raised up his sword, smeared with purple blood.
Everyone fixed their gaze on it with awe. Ismena did too, her heart filled with too much joy to think of anything else but this victory. To think that her husband was alive to fulfill.
The non-glowing state of the sunflower came to her mind but she shoved it aside.
None of that mattered anymore.
"YOUR KING HAS BROUGHT YOU VICTORY FROM OUR BATTLE AGAINST THE MONSTERS OF THE NIGHT!"
"HUWAHHHHHHHH!" They roared.
"NO MORE SHALL THE BEASTS THAT WEAR OUR SKIN IN DECEIT MAKE US TREMBLE IN FEAR!"
"HUWAHHHHHHHH!"
"WE HAVE SPILLED THEIR BLOOD ON THE FIELDS!"
"HUWAHHHHHHHH!"
"LEFT THEIR BODIES TO FEED THE BIRDS IN THE SKY!"
"HUWAHHHHHHHH!"
"WE HAVE LEFT NONE ALIVE!"
"HUWAHHHHHHHH!"
"EXCEPT THEIR KING!"
They all fell quiet; Ismena's heart skipped a beat.
Why? Why not kill them all? They deserve it. They all deserve to die cruel deaths!
WHY SPARE THEIR KING?
The crowd began to mumble.
Ismena looked right at Haron, there was a smirk on his face, his gaze holding hers for a moment before he looked away and pointed his sword at the silver coated cage.
"I HAVE BROUGHT YOU THEIR KING, SO THAT HE MAY DIE BEFORE YOU FOR ALL THE CRIMES OF HIS KIND. SO THAT WE MAY MOUNT HIS HEAD AT THE GATE OF RAGMA!"
Ismena smiled then. Yes. There was no greater gift than to watch their King fight for live after everything they had done to them.
"HUWAHHHHHHHH!" The night was filled with victorious chants again.
"SO THAT IF ANYONE OF THEM TRIES TO RAISE UP AGAINST US AGAIN, THEY WILL SEE THE HEAD OF THEIR KING, BE REMINDED OF THEIR WEAKNESS AND KNOW THEIR PLACE!"
Haron gave a signal and the walls of the cage collapsed, revealing the creature within it.
A monste— a man.
Ismena's breath hitched at the difference.
A man.
Black hair spilled all over the iron floor; concealing his face. Heavy silver chains of two binding him to the floor of the cage. Cuts and blood— purple blood. And stripes on his skin like cracks from a fire breathing mountain, only if the flames were white.
That was no man.
"Monster," Ismena muttered, hatred blazing in her veins as the images of those who had been killed by these monsters flashed before her eyes.
Haron slashed his sword against the monster's back. "TURN INTO WHAT YOU REALLY ARE! YOU ARE NOT ONE OF US!"
But the monster did not respond. Rage collided with a thirst for murder in Ismena's veins.
Haron kept slashing into the monster's skin, the crowd's chants increased.
Loud.
Too loud.
Till it became a blur, fading into the back of Ismena's mind.
Something else was in the air, something else she couldn't explain.
It pulled at the strings of her heart. Tight. Overwhelming.
Her head felt too heavy.
Could this… could this be the flower?
No!
NO!
Haron was alive.
It didn't matter.
None of it did.
Then she heard it.
Despite the chaos, it was clear.
A growl.
Her gaze snapped to the monster.
It stirred.
Then it opened its eyes and looked right at her.
Fear consumed her in that moment. She screamed, for whatever reason it was, her voice pierced the night.
But it was too late.
Chaos unleashed.
Blood rained.
Too. Late.
L