"My lord..she's crying again." One of the men walked up to Killian. He had been staring at the countryside in quiet contemplation. Before them was the great river that protected the City of Light.
There was a dull ache in his head. A voice that screamed to be free, a voice that seemed to promise that it would be free soon. Killian felt as if his head was being split apart. Something was trying to break out. He fought it. Instinctively, he knew that it could not win.
The Dycathion army was at Killian's beck and call. He had brought a thousand mages and fifty thousand soldiers for this campaign. It was in response to the Londarian army who brought a seventy thousand.
They were a within sight of the city, their camp right next to the Londarian army, a sea of black and red tents.
It was a siege and the City of Gods knew it. A day ago, the barriers made of powerful fae magic grew from the ground, making it virtually impenetrable. The mages had told him that the barrier was too strong for even for them to break.
"My Lord? That lady you brought. She's asking to see you." The soldier continued.
"Who?" He asked. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something. Something so very important. The calm lake that had once been his mind was now raging whirlpool. He was lost somewhere in the depths.
Misery was too small a word for what he was feeling. It was too insignificant compared to the enormity that seared his flesh.
He dragged himself out of the personal hell to see a rumpled, disheveled lady being brought to him.
Her slender face was no longer slender, but bloated from her tears. Dust and grime covered her clothes, and her hair looked like a discarded bird's nest.
She shuddered as she looked Killian, no longer daring to fall on him. She had learned the hard way that no man or woman could approach him without permission. He would not allow it. He had merely thrown her through a window.
She looked down and then fell at his feet, sobbing as she went. Her eyes glinted maliciously as she saw a pair of boots appear in front of her.
With a flash, there was a deadly knife in her hand as she aimed for the kill. She was fast, but Killian was faster.
He turned his body slightly and the knife flew past him. With a kick, he disarmed her and stepped on her wrist, breaking it in the process. She merely grunted and tried to roll away, but Killian placed a foot on her neck.
She was dragged away as soldier rushed to their lord.
"My lord, are you alright?" A figure melted from the shadows to stand before him. He nodded, "As I suspected, she was sent to kill me. I'm guessing it was Jasreth."
"Yes." The spy bowed, "He did it because she looked like a woman you knew."
Killian frowned, he had heard that there was a woman who he had followed to the City of Light. But try as he might, he could not remember. His head began to hurt once more.
"What is her name? The woman that I was with in the city of light?"
"Cybelline, my lord."
Killian felt a pain in his heart. He grunted and clutched his chest. His soldier was alarmed, but after a moment, Killian straightened. His head ached fiercely.
"Keep digging, find where Jasreth had hidden our men." He muttered to the spy.
A soldier came in, "My lord, the Londaros delegation awaits."
Killian nodded and walked to the place where the armies met.
Jasreth met him in the center of the two large encampments. He wore armor of black steel, the same armor that protected the Londarian army.
ČTEŠ
Dark Queen: The Cybelline Prophecies
FantasyA 21st century covert ops agent, Cybelline found herself transported to a medieval world of magic and war without a clue of how she got there. Fine, she'll consider this as early, early retirement, ignore that she's now turned into a 12 year old, a...