Chapter 37 #2
My power had spoken to them, and they’d fallen to their knees. Bowing.
Every. Single. One of them.
Elariya watched, captivated.
We proceeded across the wooden bridge. Like the gates, the doors opened for us when we reached the building’s entrance.
Guards in here bent the knee, too, the instant I walked inside.
I kept my silence, saving my words for the magistrates.
Into the Hall of Judgment we went. The magistrates were in the process of trying a case.
Yes, it was disrespectful and punishable to interrupt them, but they couldn’t touch me like that anymore.
Everyone bowed, even that fucker Artemyss.
“All rise,” I said, the firmness and authority in my voice reaching every corner of the room.
They rose, and the magistrate gazed back with wide eyes.
The young male Fae they’d been trying trembled in his chair. I sensed his crime was purely evil, and I sanctioned whatever the magistrates had in store for him, but it had to wait.
“Your Grace, may I speak?” Artemyss asked, a slight quiver rippling beneath his words. He’d gone pale and his eyes were still wide as he studied me.
I couldn’t hold back the smile that inched across my lips. “Of course, you may.”
“What happened? How… how is this possible?”
I inhaled deeply and pushed my shoulders back. “I have retrieved my father’s ring. No longer is it lost to us. I hereby, as Lysander Nightblade’s oldest son and heir to the throne, reclaim my kingdom. It would be wise to recognize the authority of your king.”
“Most certainly, Your Grace.” A shock of fear flashed in his eyes, and Artemyss bowed again. When he straightened, he placed a hand to his heart and said, “I swear my allegiance to the kingdom and recognize you as my king.”
Yes, you fucking will. It was funny how fear kept people in line. “And I accept your allegiance.”
“Your Grace, your curse and your crimes—”
“Let’s clear that up. As for my curse…” I transformed into the Deathwalker right before them.
Shocked gasps rippled through the hall in a wave.
But they felt my magic. The same people who had seen me at the trial now witnessed the change in my powers.
And that no curse lay beyond it. I gave them a good look before I changed back.
When I levelled Artemyss a hard stare, he looked like he was about to shit himself. “There are no crimes to consider. I did not kill my uncle. But to support my claim, I will show you what took place. What was hidden from sight.”
I held out my hand.
The moment I willed it, warmth spread through the ring and its power flared to life.
The truth was moments away. The ring would unravel the dark magic the Deathless had used to conceal the harrowing events of the past, which bore no magical signature. Everything would finally be revealed. Every fucking thing they'd hidden from us.
Nyzith strands spilled from the ring in a shower of threads, weaving together into shimmering strands that unfurled in the air. Then the visions began.
It started with Dreynthor in the woods knelt beside an altar. I recognized the woodland as Duskmare Forest. Beside him stood the soul-weaving necromancer and three hooded figures with their eyes and mouths sewn shut.
Those who see without eyes and speak with no lips.
Dreynthor sliced his palm, and blood dripped onto a set of bones.
He was casting a spell, invoking the old gods to awaken the Deathless with his blood.
We heard every word. There was no doubt now that Dreynthor had truly started this.
The necromancer and the hooded figures joined in, and before them, a dark figure appeared.
Their chants rose into the heavens, and the figure took the form of my sister, Zyrra.
The vision moved to Dreynthor casting more spells through the years and Zyrra growing stronger and stronger.
Then came the moment when an alliance was formed with Prince Maelor.
With the help of Zyrra, they plotted to murder my father and King Varis.
Not long after, the ring showed us the vision Elariya and I had seen with Viktor—my father’s murder at Prince Maelor’s hand and Jonathan Grayson fleeing from the vortex while trying to keep the ring safe.
The ring showed us how it protected itself by casting a curse on Elariya when Jonathan reached the mortal lands and drafted her into helping me find it.
Then taking itself to Ozaileith to hide.
The vision sped up, showing Dreynthor plotting the rebellion and paying their leaders to wreak havoc in the kingdom. He used that to distract me and then eventually goad me into marrying into Thalyrius. It was a bonus for him while the Deathless gained power. He wanted control over both kingdoms.
The visions drifted on, showing Zyrra and her brothers consuming souls to sustain themselves, how the necromancer helped them, harvesting our people.
The occurrences of missing people got worse in recent months because they were trying to prepare for the celestial events like the Phantom Moon and the upcoming eclipse.
It showed Zyrra following me, then discovering Elariya.
The visions switched to the attempts to her, then finally Prince Maelor recruiting Thayden and Mattieu to kill me and get Elariya back to the mortal lands, where they planned to keep her and use her power to get the ring.
The Deathless hadn’t struck harder over the time because the trio weren’t strong enough. Every time Zyrra appeared, it drained all of them substantially. That was why they had their acolytes doing their dirty work.
Event after event passed by, each one showing the gravity of treachery and betrayal. Finally, we reached Dreynthor’s death.
Zyrra planned it pretty much the same as my father’s. Apparently, it was time to get Dreynthor out of the picture.
I wasn’t surprised when I watched Prince Maelor, his trusted ally, shove the Nightmother’s Kiss-covered sword into him. Then I came along just as they’d planned and fell into their trap.
The visions ended there.
Nothing more needed to be shown. The ring had unearthed all the secrets we needed to know.
The Nyzith strands faded as quietly as they had come, returning to the ring.
Everyone stared in shock.
It took a moment for Artemyss to compose himself, and still, he glanced at his colleagues as if for support.
True fear shone in his eyes.
It was the Deathless that had him in a chokehold.
I couldn’t fault him for that.
He cleared his throat. “Your Grace, Wolfe Nightblade.” He paused. “Your name has been cleared.”
“Indeed.”
“What do we…” Another pause. “What are we going to do? The Deathless—”
“Gather the armies of Galaythia.” I looked him square in the eye. “We march for war in six days.”
Artemyss nodded.