Chapter 9 #2
Griselda’s eyes bounced back and forth from the guard to Oglen, her feet steadily sliding back toward the entrance.
This was beyond anything she expected to happen.
Her fingers twitched with unease. Flames danced a gloomy sheen across the guard’s helmet.
His eyes glinted between the rectangular hole.
Dread struck the pit of her stomach as pure hostility sank its teeth into the air.
What was once unease became full static, feeling as if someone was about to make a move within the blink of an eye.
Oglen carefully rose to his feet. His clothing similar to her own, but made of higher quality materials and definitely taken care of better.
Brawny arms flexed as he gripped the table.
Muscle twitched beneath his flesh. Griselda couldn’t even make out his face anymore with how deep the shadows covered.
He was doing everything possible to hold back and not make a scene.
The concrete of his face cracked, his mouth opening and voice barely escaping before a high pitched shriek interrupted any rebuttal he had planned.
Both the guard and Oglen whipped their heads toward the entrance. Griselda didn’t take any chances as she immediately slipped outside.
* * *
The scene before her eyes ignited as a pure nightmare. Where the altar table once laid was instead a large black coiled shadow. Spears and swords pointed toward it as guards were haphazardly spread out in a circle. Some were sprawled on the ground in sickeningly disturbing angles.
Griselda took a step closer, her heart thrumming in her ears. Now was absolutely not a good time. He should know better. He promised her!
“What in the ever loving hells is that?” whispered Oglen from behind her.
The shadow rose, arms spreading wide as a vibrating hood shook around its throat. Setting sunbeams haloed around it. The sight itself felt ritualistic. Glinting scales rattled as rows of sharp fangs bared to the guards tightening around the shadow.
Had this not been such a tense moment, Griselda would have fallen to her knees in disbelief at the sight. Thrasik’s scales glimmered like viscous oil in the sunlight. The spread of his sharp claws. His stretched maw. The way he contorted and held his lithe body. He was beyond ethereal.
A slow chill rose up the back of her neck, breaking her trance. She had to act. She had to do something.
Knocking into her shoulder and almost throwing her off balance, the guard captain roared as he rushed past her, “Kill the devil!”
Sharp inky fear stabbed through the base of her skull. Her verdant eyes widened.
No. You can’t have him.
No. They couldn’t harm him.
“No!”
The world swirled in smeared colors. Her body reacted before her mind could fully process her own movements.
Launching herself between Thrasik and the guard captain, she threw her hands wide to block his path.
“Don’t hurt him!” Griselda’s throat burned from her scream.
Thrasik whirled around, his eyes pinpointed into barely conceivable slits as a loud hiss rumbled from him. “They planned on doing terrible things to you. I couldn’t stand by. I won’t let you be waltzed like a lamb to slaughter!”
Her mind swam in confusion. This would have to be addressed later. There wasn’t a quick easy way for her to explain the twisted ways of the village.
“I need you to listen. You can’t interfere with such matters. You should have stayed outside the walls!” Her body trembled. This matter alone meant that she could face punishment beyond her comprehension.
Heavy footsteps approached. Griselda tensed. The huffs were too familiar, and she knew the anger that would sit behind the fist that could soon meet her skin.
Instead, firm hands grabbed her shoulders and swung her around to face the known owner. Oglen stood before her. His face was taut with fear, anger, and disdain.
“You couldn’t have picked a worse time, Griselda,” he whispered through gritted teeth before raising his voice for others to hear.
“Take this snake headed demon and leave the village. You’ve disgraced us by returning with such a vile creature and have put everyone at risk.
The High Priest will hear of this, and be breathing down my neck after that devil killing his guards! Grab your possessions and leave.”
Blood rushed to her cheeks. She’d done everything right. She’d taken and vowed to every prayer, despite not believing in them. She’d served and catered to every whim demanded of her.
And this is the thanks I get. Not even an ounce of attempt at understanding.
A sheepish smirk spread across her lips as Oglen’s lip curled in disgust, “Leave, Griselda, and never return.”
A few nearby girls gasp. Chatter immediately spread amongst the men. Thrasik lowered his hood and slammed his maw shut, half opening and closing it as though he thought to speak up.
Tears burned the corners of her eyes, but never fully formed. She should have expected this. Ripping her body away from Oglen’s grip, she scrunched her nose at him.
“I hope you’ve made the right decision, because there will be consequences.” Griselda almost spat the words at him.
Without giving a chance to respond, she turned on her heel and marched to her dedicated hut. Anger sparked along her shoulders. Every instance of throwing her life on the line for Oglen and his demands flashed through her mind.
Grabbing the fabric opening, she ripped past it and threw herself onto the cloth covered straw bed.
The slight musk from the material soothed through her bones.
This was the last time she’d probably be on a bed for a good while.
The thought drew a sob from her lips. All she’d ever known was the village.
Its good and its bad. The rituals. The performances.
Sitting up, she swiped her wrist across her cheeks and sniffled.
There were few belongings she’d actually need to take with her.
It was more the process of ripping herself from all of her possessions and knowing they wouldn’t ever cross paths again.
Her gaze wandered over the draperies along the walls.
The stitched works and drawn pieces she’d worked on with other villagers. None of those would make the cut.