The traitor's child, born on the night of the storm with a silent curse, will sit on foreign throne, and once it will set its gaze, it will set it ablaze.
The suffocating acrid stench coming from the decaying flesh of the unburied and the sour spoil of the grains, were becoming more potent as the days went on, and as the burned village stood abandoned on the cliff, cloaked in searing smoke of ash. It was not a pleasant sight. Scattered around charcoaled bodies of different sizes – long, short, narrow and wide, laid where they'd fallen dead. The narrow paths were cluttered with wooden crates and planks as the roofs of the houses were falling under their own weight. Random melted toys, carcasses of dead animals, burned and broken furniture, all dropped in hurry. It was pure chaos. No order. And to topple all of that, the weather was matching the grim atmosphere of the scene – leaden grey clouds swelled with rain dragging across the sky.
The morning broke slowly when King Roe Roasdahl stepped onto the wet and sandy shore of Midswick. It was supposed to be a short visit. And nothing about that morning hinted that the day would turn out to be out of the ordinary. Preoccupied deeply in his thoughts with the southern escalations with Husemid Kingdom, Roe's gaze was fixed forward. If he was to win this war, he needed something more than gold, soldiers and weapons. He was already neck-deep in problems. It all came at once. The newly elected Duke of Husemid was clearly more sympathetic with King Aslan, as the Rasfalia's alliance with Husemid crumbled, and ever since Erdonal's occupation of the Glacial River, left Rasfalia cut off the trade. Evidently convincing Roe – he got cursed. The loyalties and steel weren't cheap, and Rasfalia was running out of both.
Then again, the once vast network of Rasfalian spies stretching all over the Continent, now diminished and the last spy sent to Erdonal got hanged right in the middle of prince Ayden's fifteenth birthday celebration. As if God Nazar was not laughing enough, reports of strange markings on the doors, unexplained disappearances of villagers, and the wet smell of mold which was the most peculiar one, began stirring unease in the border village of Olghyr. For now these were just rumours. Persistent. But just rumours. And Roe swore that everything went downhill from the day, when before his coronation he visited the old crooked seer. There was no doubt in his mind now, that it all started with her tales and riddles, and it was either this, or the Gods were playing cruel tricks on him. Since magic never played well with Roe, seer had to disappear, with a hope that she'll take her foolish prophecy to the grave. There were many nuances that occupied Roe's head that day, and one thing was undeniable, nothing was going as planned.
The stench hit him like a wall. With one arm over his face Roe winced at the smell of moist salt and rot. It made him beyond nauseous as he looked over his shoulder contemplating turning back to the ship. He almost did. When one of the soldiers cleaning the charred remains descended urgently from the hill. He came in fast enough with his boots barely sinking in the sand, avoiding the scorched hollows that pitted sandy beach.
"None alive. All three-hundred and three deceased, your majesty." The junior officer announced it steadily, but Roe's gaze dropped towards the tattered boots and wrinkly navy blue uniform of infantry. Order and precision was one virtue Roe respected and understood best. He couldn't hide his disgust. It vexed him. So, he didn't even flinch when something like a twig snapped under his step. With unsettling calm, Roe leaned in closer just an inch to examine what was a – tiny bone. Then, with just a tip of the glossy boot he drove it deeper into the sand kicking it again, and then again, before burying it beneath a loose pile of sand. The young soldier just dared to look straight ahead. Eyes forward. Lips shut.
Ash clung to the landscape around him, leaving just smoke and memories which he locked away and threw away the keys to. With a conquering stance and hands resting on his hips, Roe narrowed his eyes at the blackened ruins. Through the heavy fog of ash and dirt, he scanned the horizon. Cracked path full of rubble and ruins, that's what was left of the village. Now, it was just wreckage and bodies. The only one completely unbothered by the soldiers and chaos around was black raven. Crouched on the stone, it ripped into the charred flesh of what used to be a human with its beak pulling out the loose string of blackened vein. There laid plush bear on the soot covered ground missing an ear and button, when Roe bent, picking it up and tossing it straight into the arms of Lord Commander Ruston.
"All of this. I want it all gone," Roe gestured to the debris scattered around. "All of it," He repeated again. "Like nothing here ever existed, like there was no village in here, and remind me that I still need to talk to Lord Rahal about those maps. I can't sleep at night thinking that she hid it somewhere, or worse… I don't want to even think about it." Lord Commander Ruston gave a curt nod. After almost forty years of service for the royal family of Rasfalia, he knew better than to speak out of place. His eyes dropped to the ground just a heartbeat, but then a second later he straightened his posture yet barely softened the strict military face, before walking back into the fog.
Death lingered here and like the dead, Roe wanted to vanish. He stared through the smoke yet again, turning his heel and ready to walk back towards the ship when half-way through motion the same junior soldier stood in his way.
"My King," The boy lowered his head low and without lifting his eyes back to Roe, he stood there working up the nerve to speak up. The boy's jaw tightened, he opened his mouth, then shut. "There's something else…" It looked like it took a lot of courage for the soldier to meet Roe's glare, he hesitated as the words hovered behind his eyes. "We found someone." Roe froze, clenching his jaw tight. When the sudden wind stirred his light copper hair disrupting the stillness of the village. Unease tightened his chest.
"Then what are you waiting for? Take care of it." His voice edged sharply. No one could have survived, he was sure of it. The impulsive speed with which he said it – betrayed him. Yet again, nothing was going according to plan.
"Your majesty," The soldier, still with head lowered, peeked slightly at his King. "I believe you should see it," Roe kept his face emotionless, just as his father taught him. "It's a girl, your majesty." The soldier whimpered.
It struck like lightning. A girl? Could it be…? No, it was impossible. It couldn't. His throat locked, not able even to move his face. With a stomach tight, he just stared at the soldier. In disbelief and loudly echoing heart ranging in his ears, Roe twitched, to the point that he was sure, the soldier heard it too.
"Alive?" Roe asked tensely.
"More than that, sir. We are not sure how she survived, but she seems to be the only one." Suddenly, the black wooden barrels crushed to the ground before turning into scattered logs. Landing deeply with hollow thud, it lifted heavy grey color dust making Roe's nose curl up. Whoever survived must have done some with the help of Gods, as the only remaining thing untouched was motionless weeping grim tree, that would eventually sonder out of the soil and fall off the cliff, leaving just a shallow imprint holding the memory that it once stood here. The girl would not survive one winter here. When another wooden beam crushed to the ground this time putting down the whole house, Roe darted his gaze toward the North Sea. Maybe this will wash off his regrets.
"Lead me to the girl. I want to see her." Roe extended his hand forward to go, making the soldier fall into a step without any second-guessing. With debris cracking over their boots like bones, Roe followed in stillness. Small village was rather a memory of a place, with the scorched and broken ground, shattered stones and forgotten belongings, that both of them were now weaving through.
A loose circle of soldiers and officers hovered around what used to be a barn. No one muttered a word. Few exchanged glances. Their faces dropped cold, when they saw their King approach. All simultaneously straightened their spines shuffling their boots into order.
"Your majesty." The chorus rang out.
All that remained of the barn was half-concealed by charcoaled logs patched up with a coat of brittle hay and sun-dried weeds. Partially buried beneath the grass were scraps of bleached fabric. It indeed looked like it was made by a child.
"Did anyone go in already?" Roe's gaze shifted from one soldier to the other. Not quite in sync they shook their heads. With a ripple movement, Roe bent low, nearly twisting in half trying to squeeze through the narrow mouth of the entrance. At first he could barely see anything. The dark navy cloak caught on some low branch or a twig, jerking him back, cursing through his teeth he yanked it loose.
It was pitch black, when a thin shard of light pierced through the gaps of hay, landing on pale skin. Her face was veiled by the shadow. Creeping light gently brushed on her frail shoulders and legs, slightly exposing the dirty clothes and light blond hair that were popping out of the handkerchief. Roe was intrigued, he slowly crept closer with cautious steps trying to convince her that he meant no harm. But she didn't believe him. Her trembling body shrank even deeper into the corner. By the sides his hands hovered aimlessly, torn between retreating and moving forward, completely blindsided by what she has possibly gone through and what she's seen.
"I'm not here to hurt you." He extended his hand but instead the girl panicked, her whole body jolted, desperate to find a way out. All he could hear now was her frantic quickened breath and chattering teeth. Roe sank to the ground with his knees bent, shrinking his height to match hers, to make him look like he wasn't a threat but rather was trying to help her.
"I'm not with the bad guys you know," Silence followed.
"I want to help you." He said in a calm controlled voice. Slowly he reached out a hand, but the girl only flinched harder as if his touch would burn her. While she recoiled back, by just a tiny glimpse Roe caught a pair of azure blue eyes. She reminded him of someone he once knew. Caught between shiver and terror her spine curved deeper into the corner like she could hide there from the world. Once more, Roe extended his hand, but the girl didn't move. His gaze swept the barn – leftover food, some cans, chicken bone, pile berries gathered on the wide leaf that he wasn't fully sure were edible.
"How do I know you're not one of them?" She lisped clearly missing a couple of teeth. It had crossed his mind before that the girl was mute, but now he was proven otherwise.
"Do you know who I am?" His question came out slowly. Her eyes traced Roe's uniform – the insignia's, the color, the rank, until, although reluctantly her gaze rose to meet his. Eyes wide of panic burned with fire, when she curled her fingers into fist, clenching and unclenching again, and again. Roe sat still, but the pulse was loud in his ears. Whatever she was trying to make was clearly not working. Her shoulders dropped, as she exhaled loudly, hands no longer curling like claws.
"You're the King." She whispered.
"That's right. I'm King Roe of … Rasfalia." Now, he was convinced he was making progress. "Who were the men that did all of this?" He tilted his head slightly, weaving the question carefully.
"Erdonal soldiers." She muttered in disgust. It was then that you could see a spark flickered in Roe's eyes. He crouched closer to her, expecting for her to dart away, but to his surprise she didn't.
"And where are your parents?" A faint smile curved his lips.
"They took my mother and killed my father. Erdonal took them both." She said it in a brave and unwavered tone, masking the moment her jaw clenched trying to hold back her tears. "Erdonal killed my parents too." Her azure eyes widened holding Roe captive. "Many years ago and in the most brutal way possible."
"I'm sorry–"
"No, don't be." He eased into the wooden plank touching his back. Countless thoughts spun around his head like a whirlwind. He needed her to trust him. "Do you know why?" The question slid from his tongue so smoothly, especially when he already knew the answer. She barely moved. Just a slight tilt of the head. "Because revenge, my child, knows no timeline, just the right place, and Gods know that we'll win and we'll take what's ours."
"Do you really believe in that?" The girl asked innocently.
"More than anything." His words slithered out. His stare held a kind of hope, that one has when everything has gone to ruins.
Because maybe, just maybe, Gods have finally smiled at him.
Roe reached for her, sinking with his knees into the clinging mud. He held his breath. The world had paused, suspended in a dreadful waiting game where the future wasn't decided yet, aching with the weight of the following question.
"What's your name, my child?" Girl's gaze suddenly dropped to the stretched hand of the King. She hesitated. The hand hovered between them as if he was holding a blade instead of help. Every second between them stretched like a razor's edge, but Roe waited. He needed to know. There was more than a flicker of doubt in her eyes, it was thousands screaming different answers all at the same time. His hand extended further. And then…the girl spoke up.
"My name is Lyra Kahler, your majesty." She grasped his hand wrapping her small fingers around his hand.
Roe's lips twisted in a full smile.