The Chronicles of Onyx: Book 1

Chapter Five

Hooves hit the cobblestone with urgency, the hectic rhythm of hoofbeats filled the air. Sith pushed his steed harder, clutching a bloody wound on his side. His breaths labored and pain filled, his face in a constant grimace. However it wasn't the fear of the wound that drove him, but the wolves. The newcomers, hunters, killers, but these wolves were different. No, they weren't like Reven's pack. He had fought the Khanka wolves and they had fought with a purpose. But these wolves, they only wanted the taste of blood, no matter the source. They didn't have a side to this war, they didn't fight with an intention nor purpose, and these wolves were—killing for the pleasure of it.

Finally the gates to the kingdom loomed before him, tall iron gates that lead to safety but above all, the Queen. "Let me in!" he called out, his voice cracking with a sudden eruption of pain.

Finally the welcoming sound out rusted hinges filled his ears. If it was any other time the high pitched creaking would have annoyed him, but this time he was grateful to hear such a sound. As the heavy iron gates swung open, Sith urged his steed forward with a weak nudge of his heel. As commanded, his steed walked on with hard steps, causing Sith's weak form to barely hold him upright. The guards stationed at the gates rushed forward to assist him, their faces a mix of concern and alarm at the sight of the wounded commander.

Sith's voice was ragged as he spoke to the nearest guard, his words rushed and urgent. "The Queen... I must speak... to the Queen"

-ooooo-

Sith stood in the grand throne room, his entire body trembling with pain and exhaustion. His hand remained firm on his side, as he attempted to stop the endless bleeding with steady pressure. But it only seemed to make the bleeding worse, a small pool of blood stood at his feet, saturating the Queen's royal carpets.

As many times before the throne room remained empty, void of any presents aside that of Queen Demeter's and himself. And as always the Queen's expression was one of mild annoyance as she regarded the wounded commander before her. Her fingers tapped impatiently on the armrest of her throne as she spoke, her voice like honey, laced heavily with venom.

"What is your business, Commander Sith?" she asked, her tone icy. "It better be a good reason why you've come to me in such a–" she paused for a moment as if unsure what to say, "manner, staining my carpets with your rank blood" she finished, nothing short of cold.

Sith's breaths were ragged, each word he spoke was a visible struggle. "Demeter," he began, his voice barely a whisper, but he was sure he heard her say, "Oh please forget your manners." under her breath.

"Your right..." he grimaced, wincing at the sharp pain that eloped him.

"Of course I am right, whatever it is you're about to say", the Queen said, her impatience evident in her tone.

Sith pushed through the pain and continued, "The Wolves are...", he stopped abruptly as he choked on his blood. For a moment his words hung in the air, unfinished, as he struggled to find the strength to complete his sentence. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead, and his face had turned pallid from the pain and effort. He knew that what he was about to say would not be well-received by the Queen, but he had no choice. The threat of the Direwolves was too great to ignore. It was much greater than the girl the Queen was seemingly obsessed with.

Queen Demeter's eyes narrowed, her irritation growing with each passing moment of silence. "The Wolves are what, Commander?" she demanded, her voice growing sharper.

Sith took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing his words out. "The Wolves are coming, Demeter. They're not like the Khanka wolves... they're different, more savage. They killed my troop without mercy. We need to prepare for an attack."

"No, we don't" Her voice dominated the air, she stood up and walked to Sith, talking long, impatient strides. "The only wolves left are those wretched Khanka wolves, I slaughtered the rest," she spat out as she reached him, before looking down and taking a careful step over the blood, not taking the risk of getting her heel bloody.

"You must be mistaken.. My Queen", Sith's voice wavered as he continued, ignoring the sharp tone in Demeter's voice. He knew that what he had witnessed was real, and it was his duty to convey the threat to the kingdom, regardless of the Queen's denial. If he was to command any armies, he would have to have a kingdom left to protect.

"I saw them with my own eyes, Demeter," he insisted, his voice growing slightly stronger despite the pain, though it was still guttural. "They were not Khanka wolves. They were something else, something far more dangerous."

Demeter's violet gaze bore into him, her eyes narrowing as she processed his words. "How different?" she asked with a venomous tone. Her wings shifted as if ready to strike.

"They were–," he stared heavily into her violet eyes, "—Evil"