The dawn by the Sea watch shows the black gone to its port of call, replaced with blue with the fire alight in every towers of the castle.
It was serene, peaceful, and it is typical on the western part of the continent whereas the dragons bathe aside the sea. Just when it gets where the tides slams on the floor. In the gross of empty sea is the towering high of the Andanine Defense Castle, the storm of the great horn blows unforeseen with that bothers the Garrick's cries. The leaders of every group were nowhere to be found, but there swung their recruits' massive blade high above, early to the squires to require the likes of harm without death. The sound of blades is the poetry of blood on steel, flung in complex patterns across the ground of a killer's floor. Cleaving a split into the dummies and putting the cage into the places properly, putting in the work without any call of orders.
The butterfly's hands are bitten by frost, the fear seems to crawl up his thick cloth above the shoulders. Doubting, praying to the gods above the regards to her response once she found out that her 'grandfather' is being called on the court. He was pounding the plates on his chest, he saw the girl he was dreaming of to be a nightmare, covered with an armor like the tempest of battle when she bolted to him, whilst he was leaving.
Akeleyde: Makaela, with me.
She called, asking him.
Salagor: I have a job to do in the fourth of castle tower m'lady, Commander Radir wanted my presence in his chamber.
To replace the suspicion of the early news being kept, all he can do is spit a piece of fiction to escape a possible death. The knight stopped from the rush and took a good look on her, he saw the lady be pouring with sweat; he knows it wasn't a good sign that he was involved on any tear.
Akeleyde: No, Lord Radir was in the court. I need my father and that unknown prosecutor who wanted him to be in custody.
He felt his heart pounded when he heard a distinct anger tormenting herself, seeking the one who betrayed the lone guardian amongst the Shattered Helm. Salagor never leaped away but instead, gone through the motion for his and the lady's relief that brings them the best on both worlds. An iron crossed his left forearms, a grip that seized him that it wasn't ever a good temper, nor an anger.
Salagor: The Great Elder Master was sent to custody...for what reason?
Akeleyde: They give utterance that it was all for the duty of the seaborne, he lay down a task for the Shakars even he wasn't one with the authorities. My father said it was needed to be done without delay, but they refused his laborious offer so he was sent to trial for today.
He remembered what Master Morken said to him, he remembered. Not bothered to tell her quiet like the cold morning winter, he stared frozen at her worrying eyes. Do or die, or death cuts both ways.
Salagor: He...He told me something about the realm...The Castle needed reinforcement as soon as possible. Master Morken trusted me to not say it on anyone but...I'm not aware if he told it on somebody else...I kept his promise as sure as it is.
Akeleyde: Everyone is in the court of justice. They all saw my foreign grandfather of the shattered walking in the stead of crime he did not commit. But uhm...One thing before you can help me...would you mind?
A good judgement of the Armory Lady has gone through the extent of her wounded hands to grab him through the arms, but her eyes says it all. Instead to flee, he gave away a touch to her bottom part that is deep, warm, and very wet. The fingers were all pushed through and sucked inside.
I know she loves this, surely, he thought.
He then received a great pleasure as she gently stroke the flesh inside and between the legs. Near his room, without a guard seeing them; she grabbed Akeleyde inside his chambers to unwrap what appears to be her fighting gear. With the cold air rushing through the window, the chills slither through her warm naked body. Realization, the answer has already arrived that it was one of the worshipping designs to forget what needs to be done. Saving him from the court, leaving her from morality by those eyes that tells her wanted sexual glee. Hands on the back of her head and the other is on the rear end cheeks, the lips and tongue unyielding the glory of sympathy.
[https://img.wattpad.com/e7be99d056f8bff903248097d9c82a0d65413f69/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f374d6b38394372544a42705a6f513d3d2d313138333735303335382e313730633165386435306365613235363239333035343838383733312e6a7067]
Salagor gently let her lay in the bed, spreads Akeleyde's smooth legs to get the most of her pink warm edge.
Oh, It's so good, the moan feels so lovely on his ears like a melody of an angel's rapture. Akeleyde's thin and flawless cold hands are pulling his silver hair as if the urge of lust is getting through her whole body, can't look at the pupils while he kissed her second lips. He took of his item of dress with accordance to the abandoned task and mend his way to put the phallus on the pink wet cunt.
Austere and serene, the celestial moon slowly sinks through behind the blanket of the lone divine star, rebirth of the warmth and not all it's cracked up to be for killing the winter. The greatest eminence that he is feeling, a bondage of love between a clasped iron and a brash butterfly.
Akeleyde: Ohhh Yessss, make it fast...uggh Fuck, this is so...good.
Salagor: Don't be too loud...they might hear us.
He breathes faster in every pound and drop of sweat. The words spills out without any thought by the river of pleasure flows nimble. Salagor stared frozen, thinking that he will stop it or not by the noise she and the rattle of the bed makes.
Akeleyde: Damn, the gods...what would you name it?
Salagor: The art...wasn't drawn yet until the naming day...ughh shit.
He must wage himself for a larger purpose, and face mere ferity and sorrow at the sight of his coat of arms amongst the high lords and ladies...but in front of the court. He must lay claim to his own commands as he approached the highest tower beyond the north, where lived the master that is about to be in the custody of Shakars. For the time has come to burn down the fortress of their old age and build a stronger fortification atop of its elder ashes.
Only then when he is about to release the giving satisfaction to the lady's womb, there came outside the bolt marching of multiple iron boots [https://img.wattpad.com/eee6c4e938698b1949c11c046c252eaa658d7b3e/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f74567931415631473359676a41773d3d2d313138333735303335382e313664633230303434613233626130393931383937373036333333332e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
Only then when he is about to release the giving satisfaction to the lady's womb, there came outside the bolt marching of multiple iron boots. And those only mean one thing; they were looking for him. Salagor stopped, his eyes were wide as a cat then grabs her intensely up the bed, nervous to be caught by the guards in the dusty gothic chambers of the castle.
Akeleyde: Let me go down on you.
Salagor: Quiet! Put on your armor m'lady, we need to get out of here before they catch us.
With means of her stroke, she seems to get no luck when she was about to kneel and tasting what is on her hands. The showing of clean pair of iron boots suddenly halted, from the pleasure he has been through with her has been replaced with drastic feeling of escape. Salagor looks around the chamber, leaving Akeleyde on the bed covered with white blanket.
Akeleyde: Were there someone outside? There's nothing bad to continue sucking your cock.
She asked, whispering. Whilst the longer the screams of silence gets louder, his cold sweat drips even more, and the silence is the beginning of one's retribution, and the beginning of his settled unwanted trial. Once Akeleyde knew who the accuser was, Salagor's life gets brought to an end with a single swing of her sword. He gathered his courage to knock over the secret he is been hiding. The secret to be prevailed from their pleasure wasn't strong enough.
Salagor: They're looking for me m'lady.
He whispered, doubting that she will know.
Akeleyde: Can you tell me the reason why? I am also here to help you.
Salagor: You don't have to be involved with this.
Akeleyde: Don't keep your secrets with me, we shown are bodies to each other whereas it was ours to hide.
The armory lady's fierce let out like a dragon's breath; the sudden heat to protect the man of butterflies. Akeleyde put on her armor in a rushing pressed of time, in the same way Salagor managed to put on his dark garments back. They slowed down to be quiet where the devastated winds of talking fills the cold air. She drew on her sword from it's detangled sheath and head towards the door.
Salagor: Hey Akeleyde! Stop! You're making it worst if they find out.
A charge for the use of mist to control the volume of his scream, grabbing her rough wrist to stop her from opening the door. The eyes tell the inflict anguish on the set of circumstances, it's heated like the flames within a hearth. The cruel steal dropped dead, was pointed to him, unleashing the fear of getting skinned alive and knowing the truth hidden in his flesh and blood.
Akeleyde: I will cut you off from head to toe if you don't let me go.
The knight cannot do anything but to watch her unfold the door where they're staying in. What revealed was the monstrous mound of three steel pointing forward to him, held by the guards including the distinct faces of his comrades. Two of the elite knights, Otter Vedal and Morris Naaron in a dark titanium plates, held the black heavy shackles in either hands to consider a capture of arms. Melkar, a receded guard of the Andanine barricade camp who took the slip of their boat, the thoughts suddenly leaped if the dreams betrayed him above the steady waters.
Nothing more of a moment that his eyes were scared wide as a night owl, the lady heard the mouthed, the secret in short terms can eventually take his cause.
Otter: We got him! Take him to the courtyard with the Grand Master, make sure he can't run away. The two charges must be answered today Lord Makaela, so prepare yourself with the consequences.
Salagor: What did I just?...What.. What are you doing? Otter, you don't do this to me aren't you? Tell me this is a kind of a joke!
[https://img.wattpad.com/032c2c387b635d7660d6465aa238460cc811d2d1/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f66636b43586a62586336554c54773d3d2d313138333735303335382e313730633165653637653434633865313539303731303339323037312e706e67]
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Perhaps, all it mete out is his shrouded doubt to be put in irons by the crime he didn't even commit. Out of thinking his disgrace, Akeleyde slapped him in the face and then fought with the guards to get his own sword to pierce it right at the knight.
Akeleyde: So you're the one who accused my father! I should've killed you already, I should've not spread my legs to you! Le...Let me go!
Otter: It wasn't the time to kill him m'lady! The balance scales weren't determined if it is right to take his life.
The alleged accuser explained all before his brain morphed to suffering, and his lungs sheds his proper breathing.
Salagor: I didn't do a thing! Lady Akeleyde sent me...a paper to the Highest Commander of this castle...and he told me to...get Master Morken to explain it all to him. I will say and do what it takes to prove to all of you that...I'm never involved with this judicial proceedings, trust me.
Looking at his face close and fighting with windy words, they whispered like a cold ghost within a tomb and building the foundation of a man's fate; they seemed not merely to portend the future, but to shape it up for the wings of butterfly.
Otter: I don't see you as my friend anymore Salagor. You didn't know it by now, but first you have to earn a class before doing what is right to change the legacy.
Salagor: I did not!
The pain in his stomach ceased the words on his lungs. The aggressor of punch, Morris Naaron, had never taken part in a real battle, never tested himself against the indiscriminate death and chaos of war but he tested the one who tasted the rival's blood.
In straight of confusion, his sword and the shield reward from the games of coronation was taken matter for him, he's being chained up looking at them and not fighting back. The state of his escape doesn't match the clutch of the two elite confederate.
Get off me! Get off of meeee!
Melkar threw a quick blow in his ears and ravaging his consciousness with a single sleigh of fist; their voices is all he can hear. Salagor's face is deprived of sensation, his arms feels frozen and he felt his whole body being carried to the mounts of blue glacial ice.
A traitor, put him in irons.
That's one of the fighters, That's Sir Salagor isn't it?
Floating in the darken, blurred halls of the castle. The tongues and stings of the shadow commences into the hallway as he was carried, never know where he will be brought to. The lift casted himself to the fortress of tides and reignited the heat of hearth, the territory are littered with the bones of bandits. The alleys full of the laughter of squalling children.
He can sense that all remains outside was looking at him as well as the great morning sun. The crunches of them boots rings in his ears, to the training ground beyond the field of dummies made with straw. All of his thoughtful countenance prepared to train and to teach was burnt into ashes, humiliating to see him float weak, restless near the vents of the fortification that he 'wanted' to change. Change, or perhaps wasn't his intent that his image go dark and grim.
Change, or perhaps wasn't his intent that his image go dark and grim [https://img.wattpad.com/c7eac43e9f22367b7dead079cdb569b57d05a635/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f5a715263474e5f413469754a44673d3d2d313138333735303335382e313664633230313935616564396161663739383031333338323133322e676966?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
A privileged class must've know that already.
After a few steps ahead beyond the light, and now the blur begins to fade; he's being able to see again, purified and clarified away from the blow of lower men's fist. His essential being left the bowed caused by the idle talk of the malicious campaign all over him. Salagor accepted his fate, the fire upon the sconce never blinds him and imagines hellfire poured out across the land polluted with injustice. In the very act of preserving his state in front of the Justiciar and the Superior councils, he is carrying the truth with him on his journey into self independency.
Otter: We caught this man have one's wicked way to Akeleyde, the Armory lady. As a surprise, we have another case taken into an account to have a reason we brought her here.
The comrade spoke in front of Lord Radir and Lord Reyon Orison in the middle of the wide raised dais, while he was shackled; holds no memory of his former decent life as a knight and no longer dreamt of escape after he was brought to the most damned part of the Garrick. Thinking that there is only two that can judge a person's motives, mistake, fallacy, and intent; but the result of an act can result to a hundreds or not, thousands of swords pointing in your weakness. A trial of life and death. Salagor seated and weak at the knees, trying to speak like a person under a coat of mail in three sheets to the cold wind; tired.
Salagor: Everyday I tell myself what my parents told me to do...not to trust anyone...but only the butterfly that surrounds the nectar...but...Trust me! I would've...killed myself in order to prove to all of you that at this point...I have no fault. I don't even care what you all think of me...I am a man sworn to duty and if you think I am a traitor...you are all mistaken.
Lord Reyon: Enough of that Sir Makaela! Your self justifying words won't keep you safe, and you forgot that an armor cannot speak whilst you are proud to be in it.
On the trial of the two seats and an empty one beside, the swords are peaking sharp and seems that its few remaining scales stricken pointed to him, and forged by the best smiths within the southern realm. He saw many blacks of steel out of that smoke bound portion of many towns, the taste in his eyes is memorable, the burning desire to get one to be loved so much for it to kill him by that day, was never for eyes to lick its end.
An odd ceremony came to unfold when all saw six women in gray cloaks, three by each side of the stone seats wend their way to stand beside the windowed halls. For all there is to see was one thing that keeps the watchers wide awake; the women were blindfolded with black cloth, blue of hair with a queen's braid and in clutch of a burning lasso with their bare hands, never scorched and peel away one flesh. It is freakish for some of the new including the recruits that one even put away its sight on the ceremony.
Suddenly, a burst of song played by golden lyre, drums and harps above the gates of the courtroom, shocking everyone of that first single beat. A rare occurrence even for the folks of the Castle Garrick, putting a dead smile on each of the High Lords seated in front.
A rare occurrence even for the folks of the Castle Garrick, putting a dead smile on each of the High Lords seated in front [https://img.wattpad.com/2e419f3cf8c15f8a62082451c4605ebadfb1ff68/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f676768554c784a457443354135413d3d2d313138333735303335382e313664633230396431363339333935343636323933393538313632312e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
The knight is in pain and he can't take the humiliation that everyone is pleased and fulfilled
Lord Radir: This one suits you well, as far as I can tell.
Staring at him, high and dark, tears drip to his eyes as the silent colors fly away through the death upon the edges of his life. Salagor raised his both hands in lock of praying to beg for mercy, although he managed to get up in his bruised knees, the guards forced him to drop seated, pleading. They are making sure he is not going to attempt a great pursuit beyond them as he is also known for his running abilities that is used for combat.
I am faster when I was younger, but that little ranger was still on me.
Lord Reyon: Now, we made them stop, let us start shall we? Lady Akeleyde of the Armory, it seems like your armor sleeve was torn, Is this one related to the second filed legal dispute?
He saw Akeleyde raised her eyes while standing on the small wooden dais and closing her fingers atop her womb. She catches a glimpse on the two High Lords beyond the seas, then to the man he loves and hate. Her eyes tells the soul, filled with awe and anger as it rolls back to the liege lords, mouthed to press into his inquiry's spirit.
Lady Akeleyde: I was at his chambers my lord, asking him questions if there is anything there is to know who prefer charges against my innocent grandfather. He tried to fight Otter when he was asked to go to the court whilst he was related to it, then there I was involved to the brawl because he is denying the allegation.
He tried to fight Otter when he was asked to go to the court whilst he was related to it, then there I was involved to the brawl because he is denying the allegation [https://img.wattpad.com/c51cd2b131f82b93cf66db07bc2dc01e31f088ba/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f436f524b757144375676354458773d3d2d313138333735303335382e313664633230333839323262336662393938313930313237323032372e676966?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
Lord Reyon: Any ideas of what reason did he charge him?
Lady Akeleyde: The guard knows my lord, they should be questioned.
In the customary constitutional silence of the gray courtroom, she was put into shut before she can think of any reason at all; she has no idea of what will it be except if the word came from Salagor's mouth. They hear gossiping and shear bruit something about the controversy, the winds are like the talks, it is lewd and unbelieving.
Lord Reyon: Before we proceed to your suggestion, let me hear a clear claim from Sir Salagor. He can talk well, here is your chance before we bash it off later. Butterfly lord...show me your faded colors.
Thinking of it like a strategic game of broken swords and wind like words, Salagor doesn't have the ability to look at the high lords eyes to eyes; be under the impression of not being warranted to be in the courtroom. They were coming to life like gems and they are the stones that seemingly stormed within the steep, hitting them, soon enough by many of rubble will turn the gems into dust.
Salagor: I handed Lord Radir a piece of letter regarding the word of the Necromancer of the Shattered Helms...who's only work done to guard the irons of most of the realm with his bare power, so I did helped Master Morken with thy duty by Lord Radir's...order to be invited on what's behind the monstrous gates of his. He told me to be proud for being the first man to be able to...know the secrets of that old man which is written in the letter. He called out Lady Akeleyde whom tested a lot of men who failed to bring the quest on the...Castle of the Shattered Helms, and now here I am.
Castle of the Shattered Helms, and now here I am [https://img.wattpad.com/2e89453cdf560a329792c15383ce04b0ccd52d2d/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f4c4d6743354a375a796b4c7152673d3d2d313138333735303335382e3136646332303431396264646263353934323931313030363631312e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
Lord Radir: So now you're calling me a traitor?
Bringing his breath back in some instances, still feeling the pain. Mentioned by him, he roared who's called by the first mouthed term. The shock pounced from their heart, never a good sign that a man with honor of the court to rebel and threw open the cages for the beast to come out is not the aroma they wanted to end the heat of the argument.
Salagor: I am telling the truth...my Lord, the gods doesn't bring me here to shed lies to all of you.
Lord Radir: Then why does the truth run back from the impeachment at the time he was awake?
He raised a single brow that humiliates him harder. In filled of people bunched in a place where it all started a chaotic activity, stones started coming towards Salagor's head and knocking him in the ground. Yielded, the guards came searching for the person who launched the solid kernel. Needless for an eye catch that the watchers held the peasant onto both arms, for ease of a peek, the guards brought him down and letting him kneel in front of the knight with bruises and cuts. Instead of the blade first to sway, the hand raised with a closed grip and eventually, the thumb comes right outside and questioned Makaela.
Lord Radir: We found a person being wide of the mark and we will introduce him to his final reward, which is granted by the first prisoner himself. Salagor, you know we won't give assent to those people who commit crimes...against another crime, so I will let you choose if he'll be free with a cost of gold or in your mind, he wasn't supposed to live.
He can feel his forehead dripping with cold sweat, he can't answer from the shivers that leaks in his mouth. Salagor can't stand the way people are being treated, despite the fact that he deserved the heave that he got to his head. They fight the detestable pain kneeling in front of the most honorable men in the palace whilst it was the wrong kind of medicine they wanted to make them drink.
Life is not important in this place, but the golds they're eating with.
Kelrain: Show some respect and answer, boy! Lord Radir is talking to you~pay some respect!
Salagor: I won't be needing anymore bargain to handle m'lords, but he wasn't suppose to live that way...he was supposed to be enlightened.
For those who do not answer, some return mad to their decisions that must've been the opposite one. Others go to the court with untypical capabilities to bring a person up to their peace or go down onto cells, burn to the depths of all prisons of the damned combined. But all who go there are changed by their experiences, then there Makaela chose to let him live with the importance of one's heart and soul to do much on life's greatest, unknown possibilities. Lord Radir refused his offer, there fell a disappointment in his face and unlatched his sword behind his seat.
He still can't speak up a single word, but he knows what's about to happen when the iron boots comes hurling down. He attacks without mercy, without motive, the only living being able to move freely between the leash of rusted iron. The sharp blade twisted by unimaginable sort of deep flesh being heard heaping open, onto the tip of the lord's sword carries its own hell. Eventually, he opened his eyes to see the second prisoner's head rolling in the floor covered in blood whilst their eyes rolled looking at it. He cannot believe it, stored in his breath was unheard screaming.
Lord Reyon: Radir and I will discuss if we're going to send your head loose [https://img.wattpad.com/20393af79dd47ae5124f8ed879024a8335069860/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f7842776b50706f514372465047673d3d2d313138333735303335382e313664633231313662346565336235623732383734353634363434322e706e67?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
Lord Reyon: Radir and I will discuss if we're going to send your head loose. Guards! Keep Salagor in lock, don't let him stand on his feet.