The Chronicles of Onyx: Book 1

Chapter Eleven

Morning light crept through the gap under Onyx's door, casting spilling out a pool of light at Rok's feet. His breaths came in quick and shallow as his heart pounded hard in his chest. He hesitated, his hand hovering over the door handles. "Why am I doing this?" he asked himself, the question had gnawing at him all morning. Taking a moment to steady himself, he finally reached for Onyx's door.

"Onyx," he called out quietly, his tone laced with uncertainty. His voice echoed softly through the door, the weight of the moment hanging heavy in the air, and for a moment, there was only silence. Then, a soft rustling came from inside the room, and the door slowly creaked open.

Onyx stood before him, her eyes meeting him with a mix of surprise and curiosity. Her thick, black hair cascaded down her shoulders, wavy and full of life, mirroring the look in her eyes. Yet she wore trousers and a laced-up shirt, her gladiator boots upon her feet, no longer bare like the night before. Still, she wore the iron cuffs she had worn before in the arena, with her eyes glowed dimly, regarding the brightness of the sun spilling through her open balcony doors.

"Rok," she whispered, her voice slow and questioning, as if unsure whether to welcome him or be cautious of his presence. "What brings you here?"

"I came—I am actually unsure of why I came, but I am happy to see that you're adapting well," Rok replied, uncertain of how to tell her the true reason of his presents.

Onyx's expression darkened, as did her guard seemed to rise. She crossed her arms over her chest, creating a barrier between them. "Adapting well?" she retorted, her tone tinged with bitterness. "You think this is some grand adventure for me? A thrilling change of scenery?"

"No, that's not what I meant," he said in a defending tone. "I was just wondering how you are!" he said, trying to clarify his intention to her.

"Why are women are so sensitive?" he wondered briefly.

"Really?" Onyx said, unconvinced. "Rok, you're a terrible liar," she added, her voice softer yet tinged with a hint of accusation. She took a step back, as if trying to put some distance between them. "So, what is it? Why did you come here?" Her gaze remained fixed on him, searching for any sign of deception.

"Fine," Rok started, gathering his courage. "I came here because—because I want to ask you about last night." He paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "Back at the feast, the Queen referred to you as an asset to the kingdom. I noticed there's more to your story than you've let on, and I can't help but wonder why she sees you that way."

Onyx's eyes narrowed, and her guarded demeanor returned. "I'm not sure what you're getting at," she replied cautiously, her voice guarded.

"I want to understand, Onyx," Rok continued gently. "You're not just some ordinary guest in the castle. The Queen is protecting you, saving you for something, and there's a reason for that. I think you're keeping something important hidden, and I want to know." Rok demanded, determined to get to the bottom of the mystery surrounding Onyx's identity and role in the kingdom.

"You can't understand," she began, her voice wavering slightly. "The less you know, the safer you'll be. The Queen's protection is not just for me but for anyone who dares to get involved." She warned, her words were carefully measured, as though she was choosing each one with great caution.

"But why? What's so dangerous that you need protection?" Rok pressed, his curiosity driving his determination to uncover the truth.

Onyx glanced away for a moment, her gaze fixating on a distant point. "You would be smart to leave me alone, and stop asking questions you don't want to know the answer to"

Rok's eyes bore into Onyx, unwavering in his determination to discover the truth. "I can handle the truth," he said firmly, refusing to back down. "Whatever it is, I want to know."

She turned her head back to him, her eyes looking into his, almost as if she were searching for something. "Is anyone around you?" she asked, her voice merely a whisper.

Rok glanced around the hall, only to find emptiness surrounding him. "No," he answered back, his heart now pounding louder in his ears as the intensity of the moment grew.

"Come inside and sit down," she ordered Rok, her gaze still dominant and unwavering.

Rok slid into her room and took a seat in a plain wooden chair, as instructed. Onyx closed the door behind them, carefully ensuring their privacy. She walked to Rok, standing with her arms crossed, her stance uneasy as if ready to bolt at any moment.

She took a deep breath, seemingly steadying herself for what she was about to reveal. "You were right about the Queen seeing me as an asset," she began cautiously, "but it's not just because of who I am, it's because of what I can do."

The weight of her words hung in the air, and Rok leaned in, giving her his full attention. "What do you mean, what can you do?" he asked, his voice low and serious.

Onyx hesitated for a moment before speaking again, her voice tinged with a mixture of fear and determination. "I... I am a Necromancer," she blurted, staying still and silent for a moment, unsure of what Rok would do with the newfound information.

Rok's expression darkened, a mix of surprise and anger crossing his face. "I need to go, now" His words came out sharper than he intended, his emotions getting to the better of him.