Chapter 54: 54: Trial Epilogue
Today was the day the citizens of Gord had dreamt of for years.
Flames still raged across the castle mountain as the last pockets of resistance clashed with the final loyalists of the usurper Knave. Victory hung in the air, but it had come at a heavy price.
Marcella rode in silence, her gaze fixed on the towering gates ahead. Beside her was the Dragon Lord — the long-nosed sorcerer whose strange magic had helped bring the great beast low. She glanced at him, remembering how he had rendered the dragon helpless long enough for the two mysterious men to strike the killing blow. The dragon had never been her true target, but if it turned feral after the king’s death, she would need this man’s power once again.
"Why did you let them murder your friend?" the Dragon Lord suddenly asked, his voice heavy with disapproval.
Marcella’s chest tightened. Not far from the path, Rachel’s body still lay where she had fallen. She forced a sad smile.
"She was more than a friend. She was... my sister. We grew up together." Her voice softened. "She told me she had to die by his hands. I don’t know why it had to be so... seers are mysterious like that." She paused, closing her eyes.
"I cried for days when she first revealed it to me. But she promised we would win the war." Marcella looked toward the castle with glistening eyes. "And we did win."
The Dragon Lord brushed his exaggeratedly long nose, clearly unsatisfied, but he said nothing more.
"Who were those two men anyway?" he pressed after a moment. "I have never heard of such warriors in all of Gord. Are they knights?"
Marcella didn’t answer. She only urged her horse forward.
"I don’t know," she finally murmured. "Rachel told me not to ask where they came from. She clearly knew more than she let on." A subtle hint of sorrow lingered in her tone. "She promised victory, and she delivered it."
As they approached the castle, the soldiers in her line of sight immediately snapped to attention. They formed two perfect lines, creating a living corridor that led all the way up the steps and into the great hall.
"Hail Queen Marcella!"
"HAIL QUEEN MARCELLA!!"
The cheers thundered around her. Marcella dismounted at the entrance and walked inside, the weight of the crown she had yet to wear already pressing on her shoulders.
This was a time that she had prepared for, for months on end. Intricate planning right under Knave’s nose, and now, the doors to the throne hall was right in front of her.
The grand hall was filled with warriors — her warriors. Bloodied, exhausted, but victorious. Torches flickered against stone walls that had witnessed decades of tyranny. Marcella had barely taken ten steps toward the throne when the heavy doors behind her slammed shut with a resounding boom.
Everyone stopped walking.
A tall, fully armoured knight stood at the far end of the hall.
Thick black plate armour, edged with silver, covered every inch of the figure. The helmet was sharp and hound-like, with narrow slits glowing faintly purple. An unnatural silence fell over the room. Even the crackling torches seemed to quiet.
’I was beginning to wonder where he was throughout the war, was he supposed to guard this place?’ Marcella thought, unsheathing a sword.
"The Watcher." A soldier whispered, breaking the silence in the hall.
One of the usurper’s most feared hunters had come to the heart of the castle.
Several soldiers drew their blades, but Marcella raised a hand, signalling them to hold. The black knight took three slow, heavy steps forward, then reached up and unfastened the clasps of her helm.
With a metallic hiss, she pulled it off.
Gasps rippled through the hall as the Watcher’s face were revealed.
Long dark hair spilled down over the armour. A strikingly beautiful face emerged — sharp cheekbones, full lips, and striking purple eyes that seemed to glow with their own inner light. She was breathtaking, but a chilling aura around her still.made the warriors on edge.
The Watcher didn’t smile. She simply began unbuckling her armour with practiced efficiency. Piece by piece, the heavy black plates clattered to the stone floor — pauldrons, cuirass, gauntlets — until she stood in only a dark tunic and trousers. The body beneath the steel was lithe and powerful.
Then she whistled once, low and sharp.
From the shadows near the pillars, three massive hounds with burning purple eyes emerged, padding silently to her side. Their presence sent a chill through the room.
Without a word, the Watcher turned toward the tall arched window overlooking the city below. She leaped onto the windowsill with graceful ease.
"Stop her!" one soldier shouted, rushing forward.
"Leave her," Marcella commanded, her voice clear and firm.
The soldier froze, looking at his princess.
The Watcher glanced back over her shoulder. For the briefest moment, her glowing purple eyes met Marcella’s.
"When a knight strips their armour," Marcella said loudly, so all could hear, "It means they become free of their leader. Let her go."
The Watcher gave the slightest nod of respect, then stepped off the ledge.
She plummeted toward the city streets far below. Moments later, the sound of hounds howling and the distant clatter of claws on rooftops echoed up from the night.
Marcella stood motionless for a long moment, staring at the empty window and the discarded black armour lying on the floor like a shed skin.
Ignoring the whispers all around the hall, she walked forward, stepping over the black armour that laid on the ground. And then she sat on the throne, crossing a leg.
All the warriors knelt, hailing her.
"Queen Marcella!"
...
As the castle was being put in order, so was the entire kingdom. On the streets just ahead of the wide road opposite the castle, there, the young woman with deep black hair stood.
Three black hounds with purple eyes circled her, but her gaze weren’t focused on her hounds, rather she was more I retested in the body that laid in front of her.
There, she could see a young woman with a blindfold around her eyes, there was a stab wound with dried blood on her back. But there was something strange happening to the body, there were white particles like glowing snowflakes evaporating from the body. And it was as if, the body was fading away...
"So she figured it out too." The watcher flinched, hearing her own voice for the first time in a long time.
She smiled kneeling and placing a hand on the body of the seer. Instantly, her own hand began to emanate this same flakes, and the watcher smiled.
After almost an hour, both she and the body of the seer were no where to be found.
