Chapitre 2: Execution
Circe chuckled maliciously, drawing the attention of the crowd. She lifted her head, her eyes shining with a wicked gleam. "Tsk tsk tsk, Ervina... what is this really about? Are you really angry for your King or is this all an act? I know you can't wait for him to kick the bucket so you can take his place-," she said her voice calm yet malicious.
Countess Marianna interrupted her. "Don't speak nonsense. This is about what you did," she said and Circe tilted her head slightly looking like a fiend ready to drag everyone to hell with her.
She smiled wickedly and said, "Is it though? Or you are afraid that your husband might succeed in pursuing me and I would ruin your perfect family? Just so you know I am really not interested in a cheater with little to no respect for his wife." She saw Elder Song's expression change from smugness to fury, to panic, to despair which she found very amusing.
It became clear to everyone that Circe was going to stir the pot either to buy time or drag them all to hell with her. Circe was infamous for knowing people's secrets. One might call it a hobby but to her it was power. Power over her enemies.
A loud resounding slap reaped through the air sending shivers down everyone's spine. "Enough!" roared Ayra her voice trembling in anger.
Circe's face was turned to the side, her pupils trembling. Her cheeks burned, but it didn't hurt as much as her heart. It was like it had been ripped out of her chest. Blood seeped at the corner of her mouth, making her even more terrifying.
Repressed memories of their father slapping her just like that resurfaced. It was like the floodgates gushing out flooding her heart.
The first time he struck her was when Ayra's puppy died. She cried so much for a week and even fell sick which made Circe feel sad. Not wanting her sister to hurt anymore. She went into the forbidden books and went into the forest to dig up her sister's puppy.
For two weeks she practised necromantia, a spell to revive the dead. After countless nights of not sleeping and being bitten by insects in the forest, she finally managed and the little puppy that was already decomposing and covered in the stench of death came back to life. Excited to surprise her sister she ran all the way. But instead of a happy smile, she was met by her sister's shrill screams.
When her father rushed over and saw what she had done she was struck so hard across the face sending her little body flying. Her back hit a tree trunk and she spat out a mouthful of blood. He called her the devil's spawn and filthy for using dark magic. Ever since then nothing she did was ever good enough.
Whenever she displeased her father or he was in a terrible mood she would bear the brat of his curses. Words like the devil, demon and evil would be thrown at her. Ayra would rush to save her half the time and even when she was beaten by their father her eldest sister would comfort her and bring her tasty treats.
To her Ayra was her saviour. Circe could never do wrong in her eyes. Everyone either called her names behind her back or they were afraid of her.
In other people's eyes, she was a sinister villainess who seduced innocent men to snatch their spirits, raised armies of the undead, enslaved souls, and tormented her enemies with her spells. But Ayra loved her unconditionally, despite her evil deeds.
She always defended her and never looked at her with hatred-filled eyes like their father. Ayra was Circe's light in the murky waters, the only thing that kept her from falling into complete darkness.
Yet her sister was standing against her today and slapping her across the face for a stupid vampire. Her lips parted as she wanted to say something but before the words could come out another crisp slap resounded.
As though letting go of the emotions she held back for years Ayra wouldn't stop hitting her. She slapped her again and again and again but Circe felt nothing. Her cheek had long grown numb from the pain. The pain on her face was nothing when compared to what she was feeling inside. It was like her heart was being torn to shreds by the one person who ever cared for her.
Circe didn't flinch, didn't cry out, didn't even blink. She just stared at her sister with cold, dark eyes, as if she felt nothing. A trickle of blood ran down from the corner of her mouth, but she didn't wipe it away.
"How can you be so heartless?" Ayra shouted, her voice cracking with emotion. "How could you do that to him?" Circe didn't answer, didn't even move. She just kept looking at Ayra with a blank expression, as if she didn't care. Why was she crying so hard for a vampire? Even when their mother died she didn't cry this much. They had been enemies for centuries and their ancestors fought each other and even slaughtered each other yet here she beat her own family for the Vampire king.
Ayra felt a surge of anger and frustration seeing her emotionless face. She reached for Circe's neck, grabbing the pendant that hung from a silver chain. It was a small, round locket, with a delicate engraving of a flower. Ayra yanked the pendant off Circe's neck, breaking the chain. She threw it on the ground.
"No," she said her voice guttural, intense, and filled with a raw, primal energy. It was a gravelly, rough quality with an erratic cadence, evoking a sense of impending danger and ferocity. Circe lunged forward to pick up the pendant but her body suddenly stiffened like some invisible force was holding her in place.
Ayra scowled her anger intensifying. She waved her hand and the magic circle that was keeping her bound and powerless, suddenly lit up with a bright glow. The runes that formed the circle began to flash and pulse, emitting a low hum.
Circe felt a jolt of pain run through her body as if she had been electrocuted. She gasped, clenching her teeth and tensing her muscles. She felt her magic being drained, being sucked out of her by the circle. She felt her life force being weakened, being sapped by the circle. She felt her will being broken, being crushed by the circle.
But she didn't show it on her face. She didn't scream, didn't cry, didn't even groan. She just looked at the pendant, with a mix of longing and regret. She looked at the pendant, with a trace of anger and resentment.
Ayra stood in front of the magic circle staring at her with hatred before saying, "Proceed."
Magnus took a step forward with a scroll in his hand. He enrolled it and the words on the scroll glowed with a golden light as if they were written in fire. He glowered at Circe who was trapped inside the circle with hatred in his eyes. He cleared his throat and began to speak, in a loud and clear voice.
"By the power of the Shadowflame alliance, I, Lord Magnus, hereby declare the accused, Circe, the dark witch, is charged with the following crime: the attempted murder of the vampire king, by poisoning. Circe stabbed His Majesty in the chest with a dagger. Our king fought back and bit her neck, unaware that her blood was tainted with a deadly toxin. The toxin entered His Majesty's system and put him in a coma. Circe was caught at the scene by the guards, who found her fingerprints on the dagger and traces of the poison in her blood. The crime is heinous and unforgivable. The punishment is death by fire." The scroll stopped glowing and rolled back into a scroll.
"Let the sentence of the accused be carried out," Ayra said. She raised her hand, and a ball of fire appeared in her palm. She threw it at the magic circle, aiming at Circe. The fire hit the circle and exploded into a blaze. The flames engulfed Circe, burning her flesh and hair. The smell of smoke and charred skin filled the air. But Circe didn't scream, didn't cry, didn't even flinch. She just laughed, a loud and maniacal laugh.
She looked at Ayra, with a twisted smile on her face. Her eyes were blazing, with a mix of madness and malice. She laughed as if she enjoyed the pain. She laughed, as though making a mockery of the alliance she was once a part of. She laughed as if she challenged fate. She laughed, sending shivers down their spine.
Cadeaux
-- Cadeau
reçu État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone