The Chronicles of Onyx: Book 1

Chapter Nineteen

Rok's concern grew as he watched Onyx and the Queen disappear from the armory. He wanted to follow and ensure she would be safe, but he knew he had to respect the Queen's wishes. Instead, he waited anxiously, awaiting her safe return. Minutes felt like an eternity as Rok paced back and forth in the armory. Every second without any sign of Onyx felt like a heavy weight on his chest. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss, that the Queen's true intentions were far from noble.

Panic began to set in, and he couldn't ignore the gnawing feeling that something terrible had happened. Without further hesitation, he left the armory and began pacing down the halls, turning corners, and calling out for Onyx. His voice echoed through the empty corridors, but there was no response. Fear gnawed at him as he searched, desperate to find her.

As he turned another corner, he spotted the Queen standing outside Onyx's chamber door. His heart pounded in his chest, and he approached her with urgency. "Where is Onyx?" he demanded, trying to keep his voice steady.

The Queen's expression remained calm, but her eyes held a hint of worry. "She is inside," she replied, sounding worried, however Rok wasn't sure if it was sincere. "Rok, it is not a good time to see her, she is resting."

Rok's fists clenched at his sides. "What have you done to her?" he demanded, his voice growing louder.

The Queen's demeanor shifted slightly, attempting to conceal any underlying motives. "I don't know what happened Rok, but I do know that you should leave"

Rok's concern and frustration surged, and he couldn't bear the thought of leaving without knowing if Onyx was safe. "No, I won't leave until I see her with my own eyes," he declared firmly, his determination unwavering.

The Queen's expression hardened, and a hint of irritation flashed in her eyes. "You dare to question my authority?" she retorted, her voice cold and calculating.

"I question your intentions," Rok thought furiously, but instead he backed down knowing the consequences if he were to continue on.

"No your majesty, I am just worried about her. Please forgive me" he answered reluctantly.

The Queen's demeanor softened slightly, and she nodded, accepting Rok's compliance. "I understand your concern, Rok," she said, her voice adopting a more gentle tone. "But I assure you, Onyx is in capable hands. She just needs some time to rest."

Rok's worry didn't dissipate, but he knew there was little he could do at that moment. He couldn't risk angering the Queen further, especially with Onyx's safety at stake. However, he also knew that there was more to this situation than what met the eye, and he was eager to find out what had truly taken place.

-ooooo-

Onyx was awakened by the welcoming scent of burning wood. The flickering glow of the fireplace illuminated her chamber, casting dancing shadows on the stone walls. The night had fallen, enveloping the castle in darkness.

Confusion gripped her mind as she sat up, trying to shake off the remnants of her unconsciousness and the lingering pain in her head. She glanced down at her hands, noticing that the cuffs were back on her forearms, securing her powers once more. To be honest, she felt somewhat relieved that they were back on. The sudden release of her powers had been too overwhelming to her virgin mind, and the cuffs provided a sense of control amidst the chaos.

As Onyx attempted to stand, the room seemed to sway around her, a sharp pain shot through her head. She winced and gripped the edge of the bed, trying to steady herself. Her thoughts were muddled, and she struggled to make sense of the situation. However small fragments of memories begin to piece together, and the pain and vulnerability she had experienced earlier flooded back. Leaving her feeling angry and betrayed once again.

But above all, she felt weak for, ever agreeing to the Queen's offers. Of course, she knew Demeter would never let her go, even after the war; she was still too valuable. A natural-born necromancer was not common, and for the Queen, she was the perfect weapon. Not an ally like she had proposed, but a means of control. A sense of having the power to eliminate all her enemies simply by speaking one word—Necromancer. But even with all the power she supposedly claimed, she was weak. What use was it if even she was affected and weakened by her own power? Some great sorcerer she was surely in the Queen's eyes.

Onyx stared deeply into the fire, listening to her loud and obnoxious thoughts wavering in her mind. The night was old, and morning light was soon to come. Soon the sun would rise and along with it, her resolve would strengthen. She wouldn't allow herself to be a pawn in the Queen's game of chess any longer. She wouldn't allow herself to become a beaten dog, carrying out the Queen's every wish. She knew how to fight, and above all—she knew how to win.