บท 5: The Decision IV
Meditate.
That's what she does every morning to strengthen her power, to predict any possible threat. Prognostication is an eternal power, given as a heritage, flows in every woman who is Asbrok, as a prophet.
But that after storm, dreary morning, she couldn't foresee anything. Worst. And all she could think of was her most reverend king, her father.
A minute later, she found herself amid other lords in the king's bedroom. Their faces were deadly pale.
"What. Happened." Each word echoed in her head, each word made her blood drained from her face, as what remained on the bedsheet was not her father but blood, black blood.
Some lord tried to tell her something, some barked a command to their underlings, some started crying, but all she could hear was a buzz, a meaningless sound. So she went straight right back at her bedroom and shut everything out.
———
An hour, or a day later, she couldn't think properly, someone was knocking on the door.
Click.
"Olivia." It's Bane, her assistant, her closest friend. "We have to figure this mess out." He calmly said. Always reliable.
"How?" Her voice was so hoarse.
"First, we have to regain our might, hunt down Vladimir." That foul name. "We need Zephyr back, we must have time on our side."
———
The next evening, after the funeral had been held, she stood before the grave, the king's grave. Tears started to fall, she let it pour all over her pretty face, tears that no one had seen.
"We have to move on." Bane said behind her. "You are in charge now, and some lords are starting their damn schemes. We need to manipulate every one of them, make them decide to join us or die." He added, "It's your choice, my queen."
"Prepare a convention. Make sure every single one of them attend." A queen's command.
The assistant bowed, then left.
The twilight sun sent the fresh wind passed her face, to remind her of her new role, a very important role for Benark.
So that evening, she cut her palm, as blood dripped, "I will find you, Vladimir, and your blood shall be spilled." The queen vowed.
———
Thud. Thud.
What looked like a bag of head was thrown before Hammorth, the blood spilled all over the place.
"Here's a head." Said Evan.
The mortal king smirked, "Looks like you really want to end our relationship, what a shame."
"The pledge." Evan said through his teeth.
"Oh, yes, the pledge. But as time changes, people change, you know."
"What?"
Hammorth shrugged, " I want the ring too."
"Go to hell." He snapped.
"Give. Me. The. Ring." An undeniable command.
The world seemed to stop as all he could see is red. The legend went mad.
So Evan did fulfill the task. He thrown the ring to the king, but as soon as the ring hit his hand, as the blood debt had been paid off, the bloody knife found its mark.
That night, no blood had been spattered, no flesh had been cut, but what had been left in that room were just mere bones and skull, Abyssia's king skull.
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