27. The Vipers Nest
Chapter twenty-seven
The Vipers Nest
M arrelin City was silent. Every citizen, young and old, stopped to watch as the foreign prince and his entourage wended their way through the grim, stinking streets.
“He should be in chains!” came a voice from the gathered crowd. Sparking a cacophony of hushed whispers from too many voices to keep track.
“Cuff him! Any elemental on our soil should follow our laws!”
“Send him home and take the witch with you!”
As the company came upon the Temple of The Oracle, a small group of people had gathered. They dressed in similar garb to the acolytes—theirs black and grey instead of blue and white. Each held a sign aloft in silence.
Royal Villains.
Seek the truth.
Three of them stood in the middle holding a larger sign that read, may The Oracle bring true balance through the death of the users.
It had never occurred to Prince Emmerich to consider that scenario. That those families whose magic had abandoned them may seek to rid the mainland of it altogether. The temple faded into the distance and the company continued toward the looming darkness of High Tower Castle.
“Bit dramatic, don’t you think?” Commander Bleeker quipped, staring up at the grey monstrosity.
Emmerich couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled at her bluntness. “It’s the perfect fortress. Give them that.”
“Still.” She shrugged. “They could do to ask their Hydromancers to give it a dousing. I’m sure it’d be more welcoming once they wash the stench away.”
“Something tells me the stench is coming from within.” The prince muttered.
“Into the vipers’ nest then?” she quirked a brow.
“Into the vipers’ nest,” he confirmed as they made their way up the incline, iron-tipped arrows pointed directly at their hearts with every step.
They had not decorated the halls as they would for any other visiting nobles. King Emerson and Queen Asta sat on their matching thrones, dressed in their finest threads, dripping with their best jewels. To the king’s right stood the Crown Prince. His golden hair draped about his shoulders like liquid gold. Clad in a dark blue suit with a red fur-lined cloak draped over his shoulders. The spot to the left of the queen was noticeably empty, for Princess Solveig had yet to be seen exiting her chambers that morning.
Only the most trusted guards surrounded the golden trio. Servants lined up at the entry as they prepared for the imminent arrival of their unwelcome guests.
“Do you realise the danger you have put us in?” Asta hissed. “You can’t keep your own daughter in check what makes you think you can control a wayward prince of an enemy kingdom.”
“It isn’t necessary for you to understand my decisions.”
Asta simmered with her rage but had no opportunity to act on it as the arched castle doors swung open and the squire announced.
“Presenting His Royal Highness. Prince Emmerich Ryker of House Anders, Prince of Elithiend, and Lady Wrenn Bleeker, Commander of the Royal Guard.”
It felt as though all the air had fled the room. No one moved as the two newcomers strolled in, beaming smiles on their faces. Neither one had bothered to change into something more formal for the occasion.
“Chilly in here,” Wrenn said with a mock shiver as she looked around the empty room before her eyes landed on Prince Killian. “Aren’t you a pyromancer? Do us a favour and light that fire. Your kingdom’s a fair bit colder than ours.”
Killian aimed a fireball at the commander’s head that she snuffed quickly. Creating a vacuum of air around it before it could set the drapes behind her alight.
“Well, that is a new way of giving a warm welcome,” she mused.
Prince Killian glared at her. “You did say you were cold.”
“I asked you to light the fire, not my hair, bit out of practice, are we?” She smirked back, purposely trying to rile him.
“Commander Wrenn, is it?” The queen simpered with a tight smile as she looked her up and down, distaste bitter on her tongue, Wrenn only nodded. “I’m not sure how things work in your kingdom, but we demand a certain level of respect here. We would appreciate it if in the future you used our titles when addressing us.”
“My apologies, Your Majesty. Years of serving this one here has me forgetting my manners. Emmerich isn’t one for formalities,” she joked, slapping a hand on his shoulder.
“You can imagine my surprise to receive your father’s letter, Prince Emmerich, though he was quite scant on the details of why you wanted to visit us,” King Emerson declared.
“Your Majesty.” Emmerich lowered his head almost imperceptibly. “Lady Wrenn and I came to help uncover the mystery behind the deaths of your rapidly declining elemental population. We’re offering a truce of sorts, and once we solve the issue, we can go back to happily hating one another from a far.”
“Insolent boy! You think we need help from your runt of a kingdom? We can protect our own.”
“Your Majesties please, show me the same courtesy that you demand.” He smirked. “Insolent prince will do. Besides, it seems you’ve more than dying elementals to contend with. Those anti-magicists we saw on our way up here could be quite troublesome if left unchecked.”
“That rabble is of little concern to those of us with magic. They can spout their words of war against us, but what chance would they stand against the might of nature?”
“Poison could do the trick.” The prince mused, flicking a speck of dust from his jacket, “I’m sure there’s one out there capable of causing the deaths you’ve seen.”
“And how would you be privy to that information?”
“I have my sources, Your Majesty. Are you going to pretend that you don’t also?”
The king surged forward in sudden anger. “I should have you, lo…” but his words died on his tongue as the echo of footsteps sounded from an upper floor. Steady, sure, and pointed.
Everyone but the prince turned to watch the new arrival who stood atop the grand stone staircase. Wrenn elbowed him in the ribs, hissing under her breath, “Eyes up, Em. This meeting just got a lot more interesting.”
The prince’s eyes lifted at his friends’ words and collided with the distant gaze of the witch princess herself. Stood with a delicate hand atop the balustrade. Her gaze fierce to the point that even he thanked their precious Oracle that she didn’t have the gift of pyromancy. Or else he would’ve surely become ash and bone on sight.