Chapter Four #2
Gedeon had His power of darkness thrumming through his veins after all.
The feeling of unrest he felt was deeper than the watchful eye of a God.
It was as though the Throne Room had witnessed something terribly harrowing, and carried that anguish in the veins of its very walls, unable to forget or relinquish the pain.
Of course, Gedeon had witnessed disturbing things in the Throne Room himself; Empress Azar was not known for her benevolence.
But the abhorrent memory the room held onto was not one Gedeon could recall… he was not even sure it was real.
After a long day of fledgling training, Gedeon took his place beside the Black Throne and deliberately ignored the male standing still and waiting on the other side.
Likeness was not something he and his brother had in common, both in appearance and personality.
One was golden-haired and teal-eyed like their mother, the other black-haired and black-eyed like their father.
At least, that’s what Gedeon presumed, for neither son had ever met him.
Sekun was the golden-child, and looked every part of his title as crown prince, though it was his temperament, not his looks, that had Gedeon doubting his brother’s success as future Emperor.
Their mother had a sure and long reign ahead of her; but it would be Sekun, his dense-headed brute of an older brother who would take the throne after her passing, and not Gedeon.
He had always thought he was better suited to rule.
Not that he would want it.
He felt Sekun’s gaze shift toward him. ‘You look tired, brother. Are the young ones becoming too much to handle?’
Gedeon remained perfectly still. ‘You know, we do not have to speak whilst we wait. In fact, I would prefer it if we didn’t.’
Sentries flooded into the Throne Room one by one, silently lining the walls behind the Empress’ council members, their blood red uniform stark against the white of the marble pillars.
Standing by the iron front doors awaiting her queen was their captain, a woman of barely thirty and five years, yet somehow the leader of Empress Azar’s entire sentry contingent.
Gedeon had never quite understood how she had done it; there were men and women far older with far more experience in the ranks, yet Sunsi Norre had scraped her way to the top after her father, the former captain, had passed away.
It was not customary for one to succeed their parents in the sentry order, and yet Sunsi had done it with the full trust and support of her comrades.
It was clear that their respect was well-placed.
A feat that many, including the Empress and crown prince, had under-appreciated.
Most probably because the sentry order was made up entirely of humans.
The lesser race, the expendables, as he’d once heard Sekun call them.
Gedeon could not entirely disagree, for the ratio of humans to fae in Zarynth was almost two to one. It was only logical that the humans fought and died for their Empress over the fae; their lives were shorter anyway and they reproduced like rabbits at the height of spring in the Earth-land.
Despite his and Sekun’s rare match of opinion in this instance, he had never once thought of Sunsi Norre as expendable.
She caught his gaze from across the Throne Room, and gave him a curt nod.
Gedeon liked her like this: clad in all her captaincy glory, her wine coloured hair pulled back from her face in a singular braid down her back, perfectly revealing the spattering of freckles on her tanned nose and cheeks.
She was quite a sight to behold, and Gedeon found himself suddenly impatient for the council meeting to be over, so that he might be alone in his chambers with her again, as they had been countless times before.
‘Human women are not my preference,’ Sekun mused, and Gedeon’s teeth ground at the sound of his voice breaking his reverie. ‘Though even I must admit, the captain exudes a rather irresistible scent.’
His brother was baiting him. He knew it, and yet he couldn’t help the irritation that rose expeditiously within him.
Sunsi was not Gedeon’s, nor had they shared any form of intimacy beyond the physical pleasure of the other’s body.
Nevertheless, hearing another male lust over her, especially from the foul mouth of his brother, sent his primal instincts roaring.
But Gedeon was a master of all things, not just magic. He had learnt how to bury his anger, his irritation, his sadness deep within him a long time ago, for he knew that Sekun revelled in it, and hated giving him that satisfaction.
‘It’s a good thing humans are not your preference then, brother. Because blondes are certainly not hers,’ Gedeon said, schooling his voice to be cool and light, not a hint of emotion showing through.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Sekun’s smirk become a displeased sneer. He smiled to himself. A small, futile win, but a win nonetheless.
All murmur of conversation came to an abrupt halt as Sunsi and the sentry opposite her pulled the grand front doors open to reveal two royal guards in jet-black uniforms, moving swiftly to flank Empress Azar as she blazed into the room, the train of her extravagant gown of shining gold trailing behind her like dripping magma.
Every person, noble or otherwise, dropped to a knee as she moved past them. Gedeon waited until she’d ascended the three stone steps to the Black Throne, before he too fell to one knee. Sekun mimicked the movement on the other side.
With hungry teal-coloured eyes, the Empress scanned the room. Satisfied with the lengthy show of devotion, she commanded, ‘Stand.’
The room obeyed at once, all standing to attention to watch Empress Azar settle onto her throne. At her touch, the black, unburnt, ancient wood burst into magnificent flames, alight and alive now its ruler was upon it.
Through the front doors came another set of royal guards in a square formation, surrounding a winged fae male bound by iron chains. The guards escorted him to stand before the Empress, his head held high and defiant, despite the limp that irked his every step.
So it was to be a different kind of meeting today then, Gedeon mused, unable to take his eyes from the bloodied wreck of the male’s ruffled wings. They’d been clipped, none too cleanly either. Gedeon did not have to be from Nythanor to know that clipping an akee’s wings was an abomination.
This male was bound for death. And by the look on his purple bruised face, illuminated by the fiery light of the throne, he knew it too.
The Empress’ clawed fingernails drummed on the arm of the throne. After a beat, she ordered the guards in a soft voice, ‘Take these chains off this male. He is my guest.’
The guards obliged, roughly unlocking the restraints around his wrists, but the male’s eyes did not waver from hers.
‘Orro Myrso,’ Empress Azar said with a slight smile. ‘Welcome to Zarynth, my lord.’ She paused, her lips pursing. ‘Is lord the correct term in Nythanor?’
Orro Myrso was silent.
The Empress continued, ‘No, I do not think so. What title should I call you, then? Eternal? That is what Naal Westerra names her disciples, is it not?’
Still, Orro said nothing.
‘I apologise for detaining you in such a way, Eternal.’ A few sniggers followed the ironic use of the word. Sekun’s grin was a disturbing sight. ‘A necessary protocol for this particular affair, I’m sure you’ll agree.’
The male finally found his voice, and his tone was surprisingly dry for someone in his position, each word elongated in his northern dialect. ‘Was the clipping necessary, Your Eminence? I have been underground since my capture. My wings would not have been much use to me there.’
Any humour on the Empress’ face faded then, and Gedeon could almost feel her patience beginning to wean. ‘An act of disrespect for the disrespect you have shown me. You are here in Dracyg under the Air Warden’s instruction, I presume?’
Orro resumed his silence.
The Empress’ voice fractionally rose. ‘Zarynth is merciful, Orro Myrso, as am I. Had you requested an audience with myself on behalf of Naal Westerra, I would have entertained you. Instead you come into my city without invitation, sneaking through our streets and spying without warrant, and not for the first time. What would Naal do, if one of my own spies was found in the city of Phaenon?’
A forced, humourless laugh escaped Orro. ‘You would have killed me either way, Your Grace. The manner of this meeting makes no difference.’
Empress Azar paused for a moment. ‘Is that what Naal would have done?’ Orro didn’t answer, and she smiled triumphantly. ‘Then I am no different to your beloved Air Warden.’
The guards grabbed Orro’s arms as he surged forward, spit flying from his mouth as he hissed, ‘You are a stain upon Droria! Naal is the light that will wipe your darkness from the world.’
‘Poetic,’ the Empress said softly. There were a few sniggers around the room. ‘Truly poetic, Eternal Myrso. Though I’m afraid poetry will not be enough to save you.’
She nodded to the guards holding Orro, and they shoved him to his knees.
There was no sniggering now, not as thick black tendrils of smoke began to swirl around her fingers. A rare, dark power that very few dared to wield. ‘I know what it is you seek, Eternal Myrso. But I am afraid that Naal Westerra will have to come claim it herself.’
Empress Azar rose from the throne, the flames that had just shrouded her guttering instantaneously.
She descended the great stone steps and stopped before the akee male.
‘I am sorry, Orro. To waste such a long, rich life seems like an offence. But an empire does not remain as such without eliminating its adversaries.’
Orro smiled then, and it was true. ‘It is you I am sorry for, Your Grace. When you meet your end, and you will, I do not imagine the Four will welcome you with open arms. I, however, will be glad to meet Gallena in the next life.’
The Empress’ tendrils thickened and spread up her arms, like snakes waiting impatiently to strike.
She took a step closer, her voice dropping to little more than a whisper.
Gedeon strained to hear her next words: ‘When you meet your beloved Air Mother, tell her the end is nigh. The Four are finished. If that is indeed the truth you sought by coming here, then let your false Goddess have it.’
Orro started laughing, but it was short-lived as the Empress’ fingers flicked forward, her smoke obeying her command and forcing itself down his throat.
It choked him from the inside out, his face turning red as the foreign entity strangled his lungs.
He fell to the floor, gasping for breath that would not come, and the room watched his demise in complete silence, the sounds of his sputtering echoing all around.
In less than a minute, Orro Myrso was dead, eyes wide and bloodshot yet unseeing.
The smoky tendrils withdrew back to their master, disappearing into the ether whence they came.
The Empress emotionlessly addressed the guards, ‘Cut off his head and send it to Naal Westerra. Throw his body in the Emor.’ She turned her back on them and said to no one in particular, ‘That will be all. Leave me.’
Council members moved at once, feet shuffling to the nearest exit. The sentries followed, Sunsi at the rear, until it was just Gedeon and Sekun. Guards dragged the Eternal’s corpse from the Throne Room, smoke still wisping from his nose and mouth.
Gedeon turned away. He was no stranger to death, nor to his mother’s power, for he had seen her wield it a thousand times over. Yet each time he witnessed it, an involuntary chill skittered up his spine.
Gedeon began to sketch a bow to his queen, hoping the dismissal was meant for him too, but she held up a hand. ‘You both will stay. There are further things to consider, and there is no one I trust more to discuss them with than my sons.’
So it was to be another long night, stuck in this claustrophobic room, but Gedeon smiled at his mother, his queen, and swallowed the thought.
Duty above all else.