Chapter 97
Chapter Ninety-Seven
Solace
The white hulls of the ships scraped against the jagged ends of the wooden docks, a crunching sound preceding our arrival. Not many, if any, of the soldiers in my army had experience commanding a ship, even these smaller schooners Samyr used.
The ships hit the docks with little finesse; some of the hulls splintered apart from the strength of the impact, my sycophants jumping from the low rails to roll onto the docks below.
No matter; the carcasses of these vessels would sink and rot like the corpses of my enemies at the bottom of the sea.
Either I conquered Elyria or . . . there wasn’t another option. In no realm would I be bested by some fledgling gods and their unaware armies.
I hummed in satisfaction as I floated gracefully from the boat, landing lightly on bare feet. The docks were wet from sea spray and rain, quickly saturating the bottom of my dress. I would rather it be bathed in the warm blood of those who dared to oppose me, but that would all happen in due time.
I inhaled deeply, letting the tang of salt and scent of fire burn my nose, relishing in the way it seared my lungs.
“Where to, Goddess?” Razia purred from just behind my left shoulder. He was much too close for comfort, and I nearly flinched at his sudden proximity. The man was like a rodent, hiding the majority of the day and only appearing when it was most beneficial to him.
“Through Alvor. Kill anything that moves,” I spoke, my voice a scratchy whisper filled with malice and excitement.
I glided away from Razia, leaving him to organize the rabid masses as I continued my trek through the city.
I expected an army or, at the very least, a contingent of palace guards ready for my arrival.
Something to abate the growing need for bloodshed that bubbled to the surface with every step.
My magic writhed beneath my skin, occasionally bleeding through to wind around my legs and hands.
I absently played with a diaphanous strand of water, letting the coolness of the magic ground me, though it did nothing to temper my rising suspicions.
Where were the armies? Where were my enemies?
I grunted as I climbed a rather dangerously sloped road, cresting the top of the hill to view the palace and city below.
While Samyr was made entirely of white trees and nearly whimsical details, Alvor was all grey stone and stout buildings, sturdily built to withstand siege and the relentless lashing of salty wind.
It was . . . underwhelming, especially with the notable absence of anything to kill.
I felt Razia at my back before he approached this time, and I stilled him with a raised hand.
“Where are they?” I asked sharply.
“Fled from your terrible power, Goddess,” Razia replied smoothly, but I scoffed at his attempted flattery.
“I don’t need to be praised, Razia. I need answers,” I hissed, magic flaring brightly in my palms and causing a bit of a ruckus to my back. “I need to kill something,” I muttered.
“Search the city,” Razia called to my army.
“No need,” I hissed, stalling any further movement.
My Air Magic was slowly replenishing, the well within full enough to pull upon once more.
I conjured a gale large enough to send the soldiers sprawling to the ground behind me, some pressing themselves flat against the walls of buildings to avoid being caught in the whirlwind I was slowly building in my palms.
There were a few gasps and screams of terror as the dumber sycophants scrambled for purchase on loose stones. Many lost their battle and were sucked into the quickly rotating cloud that descended upon Alvor’s palace below.
Humming in satisfaction, hair whipping wildly around my face, I watched as the tornado made quick work of the smaller homes and buildings before attacking the palace. Grey stones joined the rotating vortex, tinging the normally white magic a much darker hue.
Cracks and groans splintered louder than the rushing of wind, and I laughed as the top half of the palace was freed from its base.
I raised my arms in the air, briefly feeding more of my magic into the disaster below, before clapping my hands above my head. The sound echoed through the dead city, dispelling my magic immediately.
Rocks and stones, even whole structures, dropped from the air to crash below, toppling other buildings in their descent. A few stones were flung wide, clattering to the ground throughout the entirety of the city.
Silence rang out after my little display, and I reveled in it; in the raw power, in the fear I could smell from the men and women behind me.
They will all fear me, I promised, letting my hands drop to my sides.
“There. Now we may continue,” I stated, immediately walking down the hill into the ruined city below.
The discontent and itching need for death coursed through me once more, twitching my fingers and tightening my muscles.
Soon, I promised myself. Soon, you will kill them all. Then Elyria and the cosmos will be yours.