[wattys 2018 shortlisted]
Humans see her as a dangerous threat -a witch that must be executed. With the uncontrollable ability to form ice at her fingertips, Ravenna is forced into hiding amongst the humans, stealing to survive. That is, until she h...
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VYSES WAS EXACTLY where Ravenna expected him to be — lounging lazily atop the golden throne, swathed in elaborate white robes, complete with glittering golden trim. A thin white crown sat crooked atop his head, speckled with rubies and diamonds. His elbow was propped against the elegantly carved armrest, his palm cupping his cheek.
His expression was completely and utterly bored.
Behind him, several hundred humans in heavy armor lined the walls. Swords and spears were grasped tightly within shaky, nervous hands. Their eyes pulsated with a crimson-colored spell.
She watched as Vyses's gaze seemed to focus on her. His expression brightened with a childlike sense of joy. He leaned forward, straightening within the chair. "Oh! Thank goodness you are alright," he said. Sheer relief dripped heavily from each word.
Ravenna maintained a stoic expression. She watched him cautiously. "Hello, Vyses," she greeted him.
His expression immediately darkened when he noticed Caelan walking up behind her. He slumped back into the throne again and pouted. "What is he doing here?"
Caelan remained silent. Ravenna took a small step closer to the throne, ignoring the nervous shifts of the humans behind it. "You know why we are here, Vyses," she said gently.
His wine-red eyes locked with hers. Another wolfish grin appeared. His canines glistened against the bright witchlight that illuminated the room. "I knew that you would come home, Ravenna," he said. His voice was earnest — genuinely filled with an overwhelming sense of happiness. "I just knew that you would come back safe to me."
Ravenna saw through him.
It was a ruse. His kindhearted words and happiness were a simple act, meant to put her at ease — and to lure her back to his side. Vyses knew that if he attempted to act friendly, it would make her question her newfound negative perspective of him.
It was a test. A test to see just how far gone she really was from his manipulative grasp.
"Vyses," she said. Her voice carried throughout the throne room, echoing against its towering walls. "You need to surrender."
She became keenly aware of Caelan's hand, which reached toward her own. His fingers curled around hers, squeezing tight.
Vyses's gaze instantly dropped to their hands. He stared at them for a minute. The childish pout faded away, transforming into something else. Something a lot meaner.
"Oh this is rich." He sneered at them. "Holding hands? How precious."
His snickers echoed throughout the throne room. Around him, the spelled humans shifted anxiously again. A broken, forced laughter bubbled past their lips — the sound a haunted symphony of torture.
Vyses leered at her now. "Tell me. Has he whisked you off your feet, Ravenna? Like a real fairytale prince?"
Her cool, collected composure slipped. "Is that jealousy that I hear, Vyses?"
