Chapter 27

The Inner Castle of Presidia

General Grayston

General Grayston stood in unnerving silence, something he’d been surrounded by far too much the past few days. Ever since her transformation Dracyr had been silent unless directly engaged by questioning. It made Grayston uncomfortable. He’d always known her as an inquisitive and pondering woman, but this, this was nothing like her. He had always known he was intellectually inferior to her, that never mattered to him, but at least before she would indulge him in games to keep him sharp. He knew how she tried to let him think he was on par with her, but of her many skills, lying to him wasn’t one of them. At the end of the day, Grayston was at least sure of what he was and what he truly wasn’t.

“Has it begun yet,” he asked Dracyr, looking for some small twinge of normal emotion. She nodded silently, acknowledging him, but by no means reassuring him of much. He looked her over once more, trying to find something human-like in her behavior, in her motions, in anything she did. Though he had spent the past few days at her side, he could not get even the least bit comfortable with how she had changed. He honestly wasn’t sure if was even breathing. She simply stood as if transfixed in thought, her face emotionless. Every reply he received lacked any inflection, any care, any true life. His own memories were cruel to him, reminding him that this was still the form of the woman he cared for, no, the woman whom he had given his unreturned love. Now there was just an idol of gold in her form offering small pieces of harsh truths without any concern for feeling. After a few more cold moments went by Grayston asked, “What should I have the men do?”

She turned to him, glistening in the light. Her lips parted slowly as the harsh words fell, “Nothing, it would do no good and only cause further bloodshed. The men must lay down their arms and submit.” The words burned in Grayston’s ears. His Dracyr would never have given up like this.

“What do you mean?” He began to stammer, rage filling his heavy heart, “If.. If we do nothing the whole kingdom will be overtaken!”

“That is precisely the point general, it does not matter which path I view, we have no hope of turning her back. She has outplayed us, we are in check, we must admit defeat or risk losing the game.”

Grayston’s heart began to beat harder. Of all things, this thing in front of him kept referring to his kingdom, his people like pieces in one large game of chess. He couldn’t help himself and like a child throwing a tantrum, he slammed his fist down on the arm of the throne next to him. “ I cannot and will not accept that!” He took a moment to try and stop seeing red, “There must be some way, you can’t be seeing everything here. We have the best-trained troops in all of Surren, we have the mighty walls of Presidia, why should we just kneel to her? My men would gladly lay their lives down for our people as would I!”

Moving closer Dracyr stretched out a hand and placed it on Grayston’s shoulder. The motion itself was awkward and rigid, giving Grayston no relief. “She has a greater weapon than we can hope to surmount my general. You and our men should not be so eager to lay your lives down if the battle cannot be won.” Grayston brushed the hand off his shoulder, no longer caring to try and restrain his feelings. “There is only one slim path to victory and I know this may be hard to grasp, but it requires I play the path of least resistance.”

Dracyr waved her hand and a window appeared in front of her. Her image shimmered and appeared as her old self as she began to speak. “My loyal subjects, it is I, your queen, Dracyr.” There was a pause for a moment before she continued as though she was waiting for the collective attention of the kingdom. “I ask you, all of you in Presidia, all of you in the whole of Draeton to lay down your arms. I ask you not to fight. There is no glory to be found in dying for this. Our kingdom is our people, not a title. I formally announce my surrender to Sacrotia and to Emeria. I relent and I order the gates of Presidia opened.” Before Dracyr could finish Grayston had begun walking out of the throne room. “General, where are you going? You need to stay with me.”

Without turning around Grayston replied, “You may want to stand down, but I will do no such thing. I will take those still willing to fight and I will die with my pride if I must. With my every last breath, I will fight to protect my kingdom. The woman I loved would understand this, I know you don’t.” With that He stepped out of the door and slammed it shut, not caring to converse anymore. As tears burned his eyes he marched forward.

On the other side of the door, Dracyr gazed silently, a hand weakly outstretched toward the exit. A swirling vision began to fill her senses, flashes of futures that could be passing by her like she was a fish in a current. “I had hoped this would not be the course we would take. I am truly sorry that you have chosen this as pain is all that awaits you.”

Grayston stormed down the hall, trying to collect himself and get his head on straight enough to rally what troops he could find. He passed by several guards standing in complete confusion. They looked at him without saying a thing. Grayston simply motioned for them to follow him as he went. As he went the line behind him grew with each guard and soldier they ran to, all seemingly of one mind. Halfway to his destination Grayston stopped and turned to his ever-growing ranks and said “Find any willing warriors we have left and meet me in the main hall. Any who would still raise a blade for Draeton are welcome. Arm them if necessary.” The soldiers and guards behind him dispersed as the words left his mouth and the shouts of willing fighters began to fill the castle. Grayston himself continued to march the halls, gathering who he could.

After a short while Grayston marched into the hall, pride filling his chest as he saw all the men and women who had gathered to raise arms for their kingdom. He strode through the people, who stood in awe awaiting his words. “Brave and true people of Draeton,” he began to bellow as loudly as his voice would allow. “Our queen has made a choice I cannot abide by and I can only assume that you feel the same!” With this, the crowd roared in agreement. “Our queen has asked us to lay down our arms, to lay down our pride, and to let our freedom, our will, and our kingdom be taken. I will do none of this, my blade will not rest, no will yours! We will not let our home be taken by the Sacrotions! I would ask you to join me in battle, to join me in protecting our kingdom. We must, no we will repel these invaders. We will keep Draeton as we always have, for the people!” The crowd roared once more, as swords and shields clanged enthusiastically together. “The march with me blades of Draeton. March with me to our stand, to our Victory!” With that Grayston walked through the crowd, arms in hand, and led the force out of the castle and into the city. With every step he could feel the pulse of his home, the thumping steps of his ever-growing army, ready to defy the enemy ahead.

General Grayston looked down upon the city and felt the anger rush back into his blood. He saw fires in the streets and could hear the cry of citizens. He saw troops of both kingdoms clashing. It seemed very few of his troops had listened to their queen’s message, which was something that gave Grayston a quickly passing burst of pride. The sky was filled with arrows and dragons as fire and spells rained down upon the roofs. Grayston quickened his pace, wanting only to end the conflict as swiftly as possible. He saw many join as he went by, knights, guards, soldiers, farmers, and any who could move joined Grayston’s charge. As Grayston reached the lower ring of the city he could truly see the extent of the conflict ahead. The sounds of death wails and clashing steel filled his ears as the scent of sulfur filled his nostrils. He took one last calm breath before he would let the battle frenzy take him. He raised his sword to the sky and yelled, “May the gods be merciful to you in the afterlife. The deeds you do here today will be marked in our history as the moment we refused to go quietly, as the moment we stood before the bloody tyrant! If you must die then die gloriously with a Sacrotian on your blade!”

With that, he began his mad rush into battle. His blade grew wet with each slash. Each swipe is one less life to extinguish. The army behind him followed as they burst into one of the larger market squares in the lower ring. The Sacrotians soldiers there were caught by surprise and the battle began. A sizable force of knights met with Grayston’s fury as enraged cries followed him. As Grayston cut a swath through he began to search for a leader, someone in charge. He hoped to cut the head off the snake and watch the chaos consume the lower-ranking soldiers. The Sacrotians may have been well armed, but they didn’t have the advantage of fighting on home grounds or of the fear and adrenaline that gave a fighter.

As he continued to push through the battle it appeared as though the tide was in favor of Draeton. The Sacrotian knights were being overwhelmed by force and fervor alone. For a brief moment, Grayston couldn’t help but feel that Dracyr had been wrong. This would be the defining moment of his life, of this battle and war, that the people of Draeton would turn back their invaders. Then his heart skipped a beat as he saw what awaited him at the edge of the market square. There standing and watching was the bloody queen herself, Emeria, and standing next to her was Graclose. He’d never seen either in person before, only having seen them through the viewing window in the throne room. He had certainly hoped to avoid them altogether and end the battle without direct conflict. It seemed the gods weren’t in his favor though as he stared toward the very enemy that was the head of this all.

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Grayston sliced his way through the last line of Sacrotian soldiers with ease. Though he was older, his battle sense and reflexes hadn’t dulled yet. He began to run, picking up greater speed. He let his blade low and touched his left hand to the edge exclaiming “Death or glory,” as power flowed through his fingertips and activated runes on the blade's edge. The edge rippled and began to burn in a purple flame as the magic power flowed forth. At last Emeria’s eyes turned to him and a smile slithered across her lips. Emeria snapped her fingers and Graclose kneeled to the ground. A wall of stone shot up from beneath, blocking Grayston’s path for but a moment. Gripping his blade with both hands, Grayston swung straight through the stone and the wall crumbled in purple flame. As the rock crumbled and dust filled the air red tendrils shot out from behind and entangled Grayston. Slowly tightening around him the ends of the tendrils raised for a moment before sinking into his wrists, causing him to drop his blade. The pain madeGrason yell out, despite his effort to maintain composure.

After a moment Emeria stepped forward, the tendrils attached to Grayston within view as they crawled from Emeria’s own wrist. She gave a haughty laugh at Grayston, “Did you really think that would have worked on me? Some stupid little flaming sword? Come on now, that’s such an infantile weapon. Now this,” She said, twisting the tendrils to send another wave of pain through Grayston, “Is how you inflict damage upon someone.” She paused, her eyes catching sight of the emblem that marked Grayston’s position. “Oh no, you can’t actually be Dracyr’s guard dog, can you? I certainly would have hoped for a better show from the supposedly great General Grayston.” Despite the tendrils twisting and constricting around him, Grayston managed to spit at Emeria. “Well now, it looks like she needs to train her dog better, min on the other hand,” she snapped her fingers and Graclose approached, “Is far better trained. In fact, I don’t feel like carrying him all the way up to the castle, be a dear Gracky and carry him for me, would you?” Her tendrils pulled out of Grayston’s wrists with a horrifying squelch.

Grayston fell to the ground with a thud before Graclose placed a hand on the ground and stone bindings formed over Grayston’s ankles and wrists. Graclose picked him up and threw him over his shoulder. Grayston looked up toward Graclose, a man who was supposed to be a good king, and saw tears streaming down his face. For a second, their eyes locked and Graclose mouthed out, “I’m sorry.” Heathen followed Emeria to the center of the battle. As Emeria walked she gathered the blood from all around her, using it like a whip across the battlefield. Within a few seconds, the battlefield seemed to have been cut in half.

The fighters from Draeton and Sacrotia both stood in terrified awe of what they saw. Blades began to drop to the ground in surrender as Emeria passed in the simple hope that lives could be spared. As Emeria reached the other side of the square, leading toward the castle, she yelled back to her troops, “It’s time to take the castle!” The Sacrotian knights and soldiers began to march. What faint glimmer of resolve and hope the soldiers of Draeton had was gone with the bound Grayton. The Sacrotians marched behind their bloody queen and watched her slaughter all that would pass in front of her. By the time they had marched even half of the way, their armor was covered in the crimson blood of their enemies.

At last, Emeria reached the castle. She paused for a moment and looked at the massive doors that barred her entrance. She brought her arm back and gathered all the blood she had been collecting into one giant lance and with a flick of her wrist sent it through the doors. The force ripped them apart, leaving only scraps attached to the hinges. The castle itself seemed empty. It appeared every able fighter had left their post to follow Grayston in his last charge.

Emeria skipped through the halls until she reached the throne room. She turned to the soldiers following her, licking her lips, “Why don’t you boys have fun and go loot the place, I on the other hand am going to have some fun with the queen. It’s royal business though, so only myself and Graclose are allowed in.” With that, she turned into the throne room followed closely by Graclose, who shut the doors behind them both. She strode confidently through the room until she was only feet away from Dracyr and stopped.

Emeria began to stare inquisitively at Dracyr. With a hungry, predatory smile on her lips she spoke, “Well, well, That is quite the new look you have, Dracyr. I must say it’s a little bold of a statement don’t you think, maybe a little too ostentatious to turn yourself all gold, huh?” Emeria took the last few steps forward and reached her hand out, caressing Dracyr’s cheek, letting her fingers linger to feel the cold of Dracyr’s face. “I think you would make quite the nice candelabra for my feasts, a real conversation piece,” she laughed, enjoying herself quite a lot. Dracyr stood motionless, expressionless as Emeria kept looking at her. “Come now, you must have something to say to me, don’t you?”

At last, Dracyr responded, “You have already heard my surrender, what more could you possibly want from me Emeria?

Emeria was intrigued, the words were blunt, but there was no emotion behind them. It truly was like talking to a statue. “Well, that should be obvious, I want to know what you’ve seen of the future. It must be quite the power to be able to see what is going to happen and yet it didn’t help you, did it?”

“A person cannot see the future Emeria, that’s a power beyond anything I know,” Dracyr replied.

“That’s a lie and we both know it. I know the power your throne has granted you and I know the price, though I have to say it’s a little more off-putting than I expected. Don’t get me wrong, I would have conquered your annoying kingdom anyways, but you certainly moved up my list of priorities when I found out you could see the future.”

“What I see is not the future, but possibilities and even then, I cannot control it. Nor would I presume to know the powers of these thrones. How did you come by this knowledge, there are very few in Draeton who know anything about this,” Dracyr said with what appeared to be concern creeping into the coldness of her voice. For the first time since her transformation, Dracyr had felt something and that was of great concern.

“Well that’s for me to know and you to never find out actually,” Emeria said smirking. “It’s more fun if you don’t know. Anyways, possibilities or not, I want to know what you’ve seen,” She placed her hand on Dracyr’s through, and a small tendril slithered from her wrist, wrapped around the golden queen.

With a slight struggle, Dracyr spoke, “My own pain means nothing anymore Emeria, or did you not get all the knowledge about my change?”

“Oh, I did, I just had to see for myself.” Emeria’s tendril shrunk back into her wrist and she turned. “That’s what I brought him actually. I know you don’t care enough about yourself, but from what I hear you have a soft spot for this one, so his pain should do.”

Graclose placed Grayston on the ground and backed away. With a wave of his hand there was a stone propping Grayston up as his body no longer had the strength to hold his beaten body. A tendril came from Emeria’s wrist, thicker and pulsing this time, and wrapped itself around Grayson’s neck. Tightening enough to make the barely conscious general choke.

Dracyr felt a strange pulse in her body, she felt her heartbeat loud and clear and without thinking she moved forward and yelled, “Stop.” Some part of her emotions, the strongest bonds she had made lingered even within this golden shell.

“Now that’s more like it,” Emeria said and let a cackle echo throughout the throne room. “So, are you going to tell me about those paths of the future now or does your dog need to suffer more? I would so hate to put him out of his misery.”

“I can’t,” Dracyr mumbled weakly as her resolve stayed. “Then his pain will have been for nothing.”

“Fine!,” Emeria spat angrily, “You’ve chosen his fate then!”

Emeria pulled back her wrist and the tendril unraveled from Grayston’s neck. With one final breath, Grayston mustered out “I’m sorry my queen.”

Emeria grunted angrily and snapped her wrist, the tendril forming into a sharp red edge and with a single flick, she sliced Grayston’s throat. “You made me do that!” Emeria yelled as she turned to Dracyr.

Dracyr crumbled to the floor, her body convulsing. The motions washing over her were more than she could handle. The stream of possibilities frayed in her vision as a stream of golden tears began to pour from her eyes. “I’m so sorry…” she sobbed, “I knew and I couldn’t stop you…”

Not giving any pause Emeria leaned down, right into Dracyr’s face “That’s the thing about your little gift Dracyr, I don’t think you're strong enough to actually use it. I mean, look what you just let happen. If you saw this was a possibility, why didn’t you warn him, why didn’t you stop him? I thought you cared about him? Some queen you are. You’ve hidden behind your walls and your happy intellectual life lying to your people. They always thought you had their best interest at heart. In turn, you did nothing but lie to them.” Emeria took a few steps and sat on the throne, “I may be a monster, but my people know what I am, I am nothing if not honest!”

Dracyr turned to Emeria, but there was nothing she could say, nothing she knew to do. Emeria pointed to Graclose, “Bury the dog. The sight of him angers me,” she snarled out. Without a soundGraclose placed his hand on the throne room floor and Grayson began to sink into the stone. Within a moment his body was gone completely.

Emeria leaned forward on the throne, snapping her fingers to regain Dracyr’s attention. “I know I can’t kill you here and now, you have a part to play in all of this. Rest assured though, you will die by my hand. So feel free to look into those possibilities of yours and know that I mean my word. I am not a girl who makes promises that I don’t keep.” She sat back on the throne and took in the sight of the second kingdom she had conquered, letting the sobbing shoes of Dracyr, the conquered queen, fill her ears.