The Whisper of Dusk

Chapter 3

Did you have to do this?
I was thinking that you could be trusted
Did you have to ruin
What was shining?

Rhys did not to know what to think. What to do except blame himself. God knows his father did. It was his fault after all; he was the one who had forgotten his promise to meet them at their clearing so that he could safely escort them to their house in Illyria without any males getting in the way. High Lady or not- she was still a female first for them. And his little sister. Gone. Dead. Beheaded.

Beheaded. Rage filled his mind as he trembled now with it in his father's study. They had brutally murdered two innocents. Had taken his sister and mother's wings. Cut them off their body. Mutilated them. He promised to himself then, he would not rest till the culprits were found and put to justice. A lone tear found its way down his cheek.

"Rhys, look at this painting I made, tell me, how is it?" Ria asked him. "It is lovely, Ri," he replied. Ri is what only he called her while Ria is what everyone else called her- the nobles, his parents and even the princes of other courts he desperately tried to keep away from his sister- none deserving. Especially Autumn's younglings. "I asked you so you could criticize it! Not blindly praise it," she huffed. Cassian who had just joined their house had given one look at her painting and snorted making Rhys' temper rise. "The head is too big for the rest of the body and the house looks funny," he informed her lazily. She scrunched up her nose and stared at the painting. Rhys turned to where Cassian sat, eating. "You-" But Ria nodded, "you know what... you are right. Thank you," she said and scampered off.

Rhys was bought back to the present when his father barged in, the doors thundering. "Bron and his son," he snarled. "What?" Rhys asked, blinking. Tamlin wouldn't- "That son of his- he is your friend right?" Rhys hesitantly nodded, "I had taken your advice. A future High Lord is always a good choice of friend to make." Cronan snarled, "yes. But he is not someone you tell personal information too," and Rhys gulped. "Did you," Cronan asked slowly, deadly, "tell him about you meeting with your mother and Ria?" 

He gulped, realizing his second mistake. The world came crushing down. "He betrayed my trust," Rhys said, rage starting to take over. "You stupid boy," Cronan hissed, "look at what you have done," and this time, Rhys took each and ever word to heart. It was his fault. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. So fucking stupid. All his fault. And then, rage. Wrath. Fury. Vengeance.

"I am going to kill that bastard," he said, darkness rippling. And for the first time, Cronan did not rebutted. "Tonight," his father said, his voice just as dark, "tonight we slaughter their family and them," and Rhys smiled in bloodshed.

It was silent. An early funeral, Rhys supposed for the people who were about to die. "Bron sleeps in the largest room with his wife at the end of the hallway. I will go there. You- you are going to go after Tamlin- he sleeps in the room beside them. But before that, we take care of the two sibling prodigies. No witnesses. No survivors," Cronan instructed him and Rhys nodded. Az shadows had been helpful.

With a flick of a hand, the guards of the Rosemanor hall fell asleep, their bodies becoming loose. With a nod passing between the father and son, they entered as one. One intent. One goal. One family victim. We start with the youngest ones. Third door to the left. Rhys nodded.

A small, soft sound of the door groaning filled the silence of the manor but its residents were still sound asleep. Rhysand walked to where the youngest was sleeping- he seemed innocent but rage still clouded his mind and the deaths were still hurting his very soul. This was the Prince of Night, the future heir ready to be avenged. So, without much effort or remorse at the time, Rhysand shattered his mind. His father doing the same. It was a peaceful death- at least the one Rhys gave the Spring Lord. Nodding, they moved to their main kill, Rhys' blood thrumming the closer he got to Tamlin' room.

This kill would not be so easy for him. For one, Tamlin was a trained warrior and second, Rhys wanted to make it bloody and painful. Cronan walked ahead and a small tweak of the door sounded as he stepped easily inside the ward. Rhys did the same. And then, the shouting and screaming started. Rhys waited for Tamlin to wake up first though, figure of a considerate male. His green eyes snapped open at the second scream and in one second he was out of bed but stopped short when he saw the person who stood against his door. "Rhysand," he said calmly.

Rhys did not reply. Looking in those eyes that had betrayed his trust, his rage increased tenfold. Without bothering to reply, he jumped at Tamlin with all his power, forcing them to break the window and land on the ground below. Tamlin snarled even as guilt swarm in his eyes. He did not waste time with begging and pleading- smart male- for he knew the Night would not forgive. And so, he attacked back.

It went on for some time. Tamlin trying to attack and defend himself while Rhys grinned savagely, taking satisfaction in each and every torturous blood he drew. A dying sound of a female sounded and Rhys knew what had occurred in the manor. Tamlin gave a roar and then, did not hold back any longer. His attacks became more brutal, more aggressive, and ... sloppier.

Above them, they saw from the corner of their eye as they fought one another, blasts of lights and darkness gathering. It had been a few minutes now. Tamlin lunged when he saw Rhys distracted for a moment. Rhys smiled as Tamlin played right into his hand. And just as Tamlin was to stab him, Rhys let his power fling making Tamlin soar over him, and towards the roses and thorns.

He got up panting. Enough games, Rhys thought, time to end it. It may have been that at the exact moment, his father thought the same. For, with one large blast that had the very ground rumbling, two roars were heard before eerie silence once again filled the area. Two seconds passed and then, Rhys felt it. Looking at Tamlin, Rhysand knew he felt it too.

The power of a High Lord.

Meaning, his father was dead.

Making eye contact one last time, Rhys winnowed away to his Mountain Palace. The High Lord' powers amplification hitting him with full force. And just as he entered the hall and warded the place up to maximum security, he fell to his knees and tears started falling uncontrollably.

His mother was gone.

His sister too.

His father was dead.

He was a High Lord. 

The High Lord of the Night Court.

At such a dire cost.

He cried and cried and screamed in agony until darkness claimed him.

Three days later, Tamlin stood in his father' office. His father had wanted to keep the wings as if it were a deer's head caught in a hunting expedition but Tamlin had pleaded him to let them go. Let the Night have their wings- they could instead never send their bodies back for a burial. Surprisingly, Bron had agreed to that plan but only after Tamlin' younger sibling had thought it was a better idea too. And now, they both were dead.

And to think... all this because of a small tuff between the High Lords. Their wrath and fury scared him, at times.

But he supposed, he was one now too.