IN FULL COLOUR - Dark Fantasy

Axel

The King of Shadows and Whispers seemed even more distant and dejected this morning.

We entered the conference room an hour after breakfast to find that Coyne was already seated at the end of the large wooden table. He was leaning forward in his chair, resting on his elbows, his hands buried in his dark tousled hair. He didn’t look up as we entered.

There was something suffocating in the air. A thick, uncomfortable silence. The promise of answers to questions we didn’t want to ask. The young king looked troubled, pained and haunted. For a moment I wondered whether he had slept at all last night.

His loyal nether fae creatures, the Regmus beasts, lay curled up around his feet, protecting their king obediently.

Once everyone had entered, Coyne looked up and scanned the room with hollow, cold eyes. Even though the colour in them was still a vibrant golden brown, there was undiluted sorrow in there, so cold and lifeless, it sent a shiver down my spine.

“I am afraid I must ask for discretion during this meeting,” he said, folding his hands in front of him on the table and staring at them, “only those in great positions of power are to attend.” His voice didn’t sound as smooth and alluring as yesterday. No. The king in front of us was a broken man, on the verge of exposing his inner demons. I felt it in the atmosphere. He was about to reveal what had happened to him. The pain and torture he had endured during the time he had been absent from his kingdom; believed to be dead by all others.

I swallowed thickly as King Gaute pointed out who could stay and who should leave. Alpha Blake did the same. When I exchanged glances with him, he merely dipped his chin and asked everyone else to take their leave, everyone except for me and Dorian.

This would be a tough meeting with a lot of sensitive information. Wounds would have to be scratched open and demons would have to be faced. I had no idea what it might entail but judging by the sombre mood and King Coyne’s tortured demeanour, I could tell that it wasn’t going to be pleasant.

The door clicked shut.

It grew quiet.

In my stomach, unease and restlessness grew.

Coyne clenched and unclenched his fingers, the muscles in his jaw tightened visibly as he gritted his teeth. Saying it, talking about it caused him physical pain.

“I was sixteen,” he finally said, his voice rasp and grated, “when the kingdom of Death and Blood fell, ninety-six years ago.”

From what I had learned from Gabrielle, I understood that the high fae lived longer lives than us mortals, but to be a hundred and twelve years old and not look a day over thirty was impressive.

“We were ambushed in the night by the Serpent Queen and her army.”

“The Kingdom of Dreams and Seduction,” King Gaute said softly.

Coyne nodded.

“They slaughtered everyone. Children, women, livestock. All butchered like animals. People were fleeing, houses were burning and the screams…” He swallowed. Closed his eyes and took two slow breaths, “so, so many screams. They still haunt me.”

People shifted uncomfortably in their chairs.

“My mother,” he swallowed hard, “had a handmaiden who was a witch. Old as the mountains, but still lovely with a young woman’s body. She had run into me in one of the castle halls that night as I swung my sword at the enemy’s forces, decapitating and tearing down beasts as I went. She took one look at me, covered in sweat and blood and dragged me away from the fight. I was so tired by that point that I didn’t even put up a fight, I just went with her, hoping that she was leading me to my family. We entered a room, and she barricaded the door from the inside, there was no sign of anyone else except for us. I remembered arguing that I needed to get to my family and that I needed to protect my father’s kingdom, but her words stilled everything inside of me when she said, “they are dead Coyne, they’re all dead.” I knew instantly it was true because I felt their power, my family’s magic entering me.”

Coyne clamped his eyes shut and gathered himself. His leg was jumping uncontrollably and the heel of his foot tapping nervously on the ground.

When a high fae within the royal bloodline was born, he or she received a part of the parent’s power, but when someone in the family died, that power jumped back to the remaining family members, spreading equally amongst them.

“The magic that came barrelling into me all at once was overwhelming, and with that came the realization that I was the only one left. The witch had grabbed me by the shoulders and was yelling words at me I could not register. I was in a state of shock. When I close my eyes, I can still hear my sword clammer to the ground. The witch shook me again and blew some kind of powder into my face. It snapped me back to reality and the pain that shot through my heart. “Now is not the time to mourn young prince, now is the time to survive! Your kingdom needs you!” she had yelled. I knew that much was true, but I did not think I was strong enough. Everything had come down on my shoulders and I was but a mere child.”

Coyne shook his head, a tear slid down his cheek.

“In a last final attempt to save our kingdom, the witch wielded an ancient, dark spell. One intended for evil.”

“A curse,” Locke said.

Coyne nodded gravely; his face contorted in agony.

“The witch cursed me to save me. The magic of witches isn’t the same as ours. They need to pay for the magic they use, in other words, she had to give something of herself in order to place the curse.”

My blood ran cold. In order to gain something you love, you have to give something you love, the all too familiar words rang in my ears. The words that had cost Lily her eyesight. Dark magic.

“What curse did she lay upon you?” King Gaute’s eldest son asked.

Coyne sighed, “that I cannot die. You see, she extracted half of my soul and half of my magic and secured it in a solid glass ball, big enough to fit in the palm of one’s hand. She weaved her magic in such a way that I couldn’t be killed without the other half.”

“Where is the other half now?” I found myself asking.

Coyne’s golden orbs focused on me. There was nothing but sorrow in them.

“After she cursed me, the life left her eyes and she fell to the ground, my glass ball with her. The magic had cost her her life. A second later, a large beast came barging through the barricaded door and the ball was forgotten. I fought the monster with my bare hands, but it was a frugal attempt. The beast was half man, half scorpion, I didn’t stand a chance, yet, it couldn’t kill me. The curse had snapped into place the moment her corpse hit the floor.”

“Ok, wait, are you saying that somewhere out there is a glass ball with half of YOU trapped inside of it?” Locke asked with his brows raised high.

“Yes.”

“And you don’t know where it is?” He asked again.

A muscle in Coyne’s jaw feathered, “no, because until a week ago, I was still trapped in the Serpent Queen’s dungeons.”

Locke swore under his breath, as did a few others. Shit. Ninety-six years was a damn long time to be held captive in a wretched dungeon.