Fifth Lord

Chapter 5

Sharp stone spires reaching into the sky, gouging through clouds. It looked young, free of weeds or damage, but it exuded an air of history. That between the hewn rock the smell of copper had been imbued into the walls from the pain and war of centuries.

The hollow scarecrows not made of straw and hay hung on their pikes, the low shuddering moans carried away unheard by the wind as they watched over the vineyard. Their sunken bodies covered in threadbare cloth were held together by hessian and thread, the fabric stitched through their flesh where the vultures had picked them clean.

Some of the bodies continued to breathe, the ones that didn't had their lungs ripped out from the precarious hold of their muscles and cartilage. Their bodies hung limp from the ropes that bound them to their posts.

From the forest emerged a small brown deer, its fur matted with blood and dirt. It's eyes are wide and desperate as it slowly moves between the dead foliage. It's hungry and its stomach is empty.

It opens its mouth and there are so many teeth.

The scarecrows start to scream.

Their jaws are open and wailing, their sockets wide and empty. All of them are screaming, even the ones that can't breath are screaming with air that can't have.

The thing that was a deer lets out its own scream, jaw cracking and splitting. It cries and runs back into the forest on legs with too many joints. It's bones roll under its skin without permission and it cries out again with human eyes.

...

The castle's menacing form was reminiscent as its owner, emanating the same danger and power that she felt as the wrought iron gate was raised at a grueling pace that left Corvus holding in a snarl.

Through the howling wind screams emanating from the distance causing Corvus to look up to her host, greeted simply by a raised eyebrow. She could taste metal and it took her a moment to realize it was her own blood staining her sharp teeth.

The gate finished opening with a clang.

Loose snow fell from the rattling metal, gracefully rolling from Lady Dimitrescu's tilted hat. Corvus was not so lucky, having the shake her head like a dog eliciting what sounded like a chuckle but when she looked back Dimitrescu all she saw was a look of disdain.

With a sneer Lady Dimitrescu threw open the giant wooden doors, the door work had intricate metalwork that should have made the door a struggle for any regular person to open. The whining of stiff hinges screeched against her ears, causing her to scamper inside careful to not track any snow in.

The doors shut with a loud cracking noise echoing throughout the castle entrance that now lied in front of her.

High arches cradled the ceiling of the hall. Intricate wood carvings decorated the banister of the large staircase, deep green walls greeted the darkened wood finishing like an old friend complimenting the gilded chandelier and roaring fire.

The heat of the fire licked at her face and she walked behind her host, she wasn't even near the flames she could feel it burning her. She looked down, expecting to see burning flesh to accompany the smell of smoke and burnt hair.

Her skin was unharmed from any flames. The idea itself was irrational as the crackling wood was across the room but the unfamiliar sensation of warmth felt like she was burning. She had never felt such warmth that she could remember and as the burning subsided, only left with the jittering feeling of the sludge thrumming through her veins with vigor.

Blood dribbled down her chin and she realized that she her bit through her tongue in an attempt to stop herself from screaming. Mother Miranda didn't like it when she started screaming.

She jumped when she felt the gloved hand once again on her shoulder but was unable to bring herself to meet The Lady's eyes.

"Corvus? Corvus are you alright?"

She did not have the energy to shrug off the heavy hand, nor did she have the energy to stand as her knees buckled.

The grip on her shoulder tightened and she could feel the bone crack as her weight hung from it. She couldn't hear it crack because she couldn't hear anything, all she can hear is the rushing of blood.

Corvus felt more hands on her, small and shaking with fear so unlike the gloved hands of her host.

She felt a bone pop form its socket as a hand grasped the base of a wing scrabbling to find a way to keep her from falling to the floor.

Corvus let out a scream she couldn't hear, muffled voices around her reaching a crescendo as she lost her battle to stay conscious.