Etain sat in silence as she watched her father seated at the table in the center of the large, cavernous room. Magus and their novices whispered amongst themselves about the proceedings. Grymryg seemed intent on waiting for the events to unfold. Drexon couldn’t settle down, shifting in his seat as though sitting on a mound of ants.
“What do you think is going to happen?” Grymryg asked quietly.
“If I know the Kull, he’s gonna come back in a flourish and at the last minute, they’ll resolve the dispute. He likes to add a flair of the dramatic. It’s a bit over the top for me, but I’m just a novice, so…there’s that.”
Drexon smiled and his calm, easy demeanor helped Etain deal with the stress of the situation.
She couldn’t remember a time when her father had so much riding on one meeting. When he left several days ago, he seemed to not realize how difficult the Kull was going to be, or how serious the tribunal was. Maybe he did, but if so, he hid it well from her.
Her father sat quietly at the table with his eyes closed and arms crossed against his muscular chest. She hoped one day to find a mate like him; strong, wise, and humble. He had his moments where he’d brag about leading the Drakku in battle, but those were usually after several mugs of ale. Leading the Drakku required much more than that and he was the wisest dragon she’d ever known. Watching him struggle with the Kull was unusual. When they’d return, she expected he’d find a compromise that suited all parties and mend the strained relationship between the people of Tregaron and the Drakku.
Several tense moments later, large wooden doors swung open and all attention was drawn to the Kull as he strolled through, followed by the Magus who had been with him earlier.
Drexon leaned toward Etain and whispered, “Something isn’t right. I don’t know what, but it doesn’t feel…right.”
Her heart nearly exploded within her. “What do you mean?”
“I can’t say for sure. I’m sensing something wrong.”
Grymryg nodded, cracked his knuckles, and stared intently at the table now being occupied by Ornas and his Magus. Once the Kull sat, the rest followed suit and a strained silence came over the room.
“Lord Avess, are you prepared to conclude these talks?”
“Yes Kull. Let us mend our wounds and come together as one. The Drakku are not the enemy. We are allies.”
Ornas held up a thin, nearly translucent hand. A black stone hanging around his neck began to glow faintly. Etain wasn’t sure she was seeing it, but when Drexon nudged her and pointed at it, she knew it was true.
“There! Something is going to happen. I don’t like this!” Grymryg said.
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“What’s he doing? Is he going to hurt my father?”
Drexon pulled away. “Your…father?”
Etain covered her mouth with her hand.
“She meant it in a…a figurative sense,” Grymryg said. Etain appreciated his attempt, but she’d already shared too much with this novice.
A crack of lightning captured their attention and all three turned to the table. The Kull stood along with the other Magus. All of them had glowing gems around their necks.
“We are done with these talks Lord Avess. The Drakku will no longer find a home in Tregaron.” The Kull’s eyes narrowed and his voice oozed with disgust.
“Father!”
Avess turned her way. He’d never seen her human form and it took several moments before he recognized who he was staring at.
“Etain?”
“No more Drakku interference in our lands! No more will we allow you to harm our people. Take this as a warning for all Drakku…the Order of Eschar have made their stand!”
Tower Guards appeared from nowhere and lunged at her father. There must have been close to six or seven of them. His mouth opened in an expression of surprise. Then, they surrounded him with swords drawn.
“No! Ornas, reconsider your—”
They pierced his flesh, his screams echoing within the chamber. The guards shouted as they pushed thin metal blades within his soft flesh. More and more they stabbed, filling him with countless wounds. His blood coated their blades in a blur of metal and blood.
Thick bolts of lightning jumped from the Kull’s hands. The blinding light illuminated the room, followed by peals of thunder.
“Tregaron is free! The Drakku have no sway here!” Ornas let loose another bolt of lightning, the loud crack of thunder drowning out the screams from those watching.
“Father!”
Grymryg and Drexon held her back.
“Don’t expose yourselves! You’ll be in great danger!”
“My father! They killed my father!”
“I’ll rip them limb from limb!” Grymryg growled.
“Do not change here! They outnumber you and the Magus will have you both killed!”
The southern Magus, discernible in their sand colored robes with various colored cords indicating what Tower they belonged to, rose in unison. They attempted to push back the guards with their power, but it was too late. The guards had done what they were tasked with. Lord Avess, Etain’s father, lay dying with more wounds than anyone was capable of healing. They watched as he bled out on the stone floor.
Many of the southern Magus shouted at the Kull, calling him a murderer and betrayer. Those in black and red robes held their ground, forcing their southern brethren back. Outnumbered, they stormed out of the chamber, leaving only the Tregaron Magus.
Etain scanned the crowd for Ildor, but he was nowhere to be found.
Tears streamed down Etain’s cheeks. She shook, with anger and pain both. Desperately she wanted to be at her father’s side, but it would mean certain death for her and Grymryg. Inside her head, she screamed madly. He was her everything. With no siblings and no other family, he was all she had left in the world. Why did this happen? Why did the Kull order this? She wanted to turn into her true form and burn them all, burn the Tower, and burn the city. None of them were worth her father’s life. None!
“We will reform Tregaron into the proud land it once was. We will no longer bow to the whims of the Drakku. Stand with us, or you are against us!” the Kull shouted. Thin strands of lighting flew from his fingers, branching out to reach all parts of the room.
Then, those left inside the Tower cheered.
Etain felt a chasm of despair and shock. They had plotted this all along, they had to! They were only interested in killing her father. None of the tribunal was real. They probably removed those people from Nighthill. It was all a ploy to lure her father to this chamber for this moment. She seethed.
“Come, let’s leave this. I have an idea that might help you.”
Etain turned her teary face to Drexon and nodded, giving one long last look at her father lying on the floor, his blood pooling around him. They’d pay. All of them would pay.