He sits on his blood-soaked throne.
Portraits of his ancestors line the walls. Scowling, like they know what he's done.
A single knock at the thick double doors resounds through the room, disturbing his reverie.
"Enter." He growls.
A scrawny young man enters, and scurries to the foot of his throne. He lowers himself, forehead almost kissing the ground.
"Speak." Is the command.
"It is done, my-" he catches his breath. "Your Majesty."
He leans forward, watching the young man's every quiver.
"And the boy?" He asks.
The lump in the young man's throat moves up, then down as he whispers his reply.
"Gone."
The whole room seems to hiss with his angry breath.
"Find him. Find the boy."
YOU ARE READING
Survivors of Elyorn: Katherine
FantasyThe life Katherine had known was shattered when her home town was attacked ten years ago. Since then, she and the rest of the survivors have been running from an unknown enemy, eking out a life in the Eleryne forests. But no-one can run forever.
