The Shattering

Chapter 3

-Leyndell, The Royal Capital-

The sunset sky filtered through the columns of the walkway, splashing orange and gold onto the grey cobblestone. A lone tree swayed against the breeze as it clung to the outer wall of the tower. This high up, it was a miracle to see greenery survive, but it was a welcome sight.

A woman walked with quiet purpose across the breezeway. The light caught her golden hair as she walked in and out of the dying light of the sun, each column casting a quick shadow across her face. She made no hurry to wherever she was going, but the hair on her arms prickled. She felt a presence. Something crept in the shadows, eyes on her that she could feel as if they were touching her skin. After a moment, her senses adjusted to the presence, and she stopped walking, her bare feet crunching against a leaf.

"For a shadow, you are awfully loud." Her voice was sharp and commanding, yet soft and delicate.

For a few seconds, nothing. Then, a wolf-like figure reluctantly stalked from behind a column, the glamour shimmering away as it regained a more human form.

"I made no noise." He muttered. His eyes still kept the yellow of the wolf.

"You didn't have to. I could sense you." She approached the figure. "If you intend to keep trailing women in the shadows, you'll have to learn to quiet that deafening heartbeat of yours."

He chuckled humorlessly. "Not everyone is as adept at sniffing out magic as you."

His skin was tanned and rough as age began to creep at his features. He had many scars, some hidden in his dark beard, and one that dashed across his left eye, nearly blinded. In many ways, he was her complete opposite. She had pale, porcelain skin and golden hair that laid like silk across her shoulders. Her features were delicate, angular. It would be naive to mistake it for innocence. Behind her small frame and bony hands was pure strength.

The figure held out a parchment with a black and gold wax seal. "We received word from the stables, I thought you should be the one to open it."

She glanced down at the letter. "Godfrey?"

The man nodded. She looked away.

"Is reading it even necessary? The old fool is gone."

"It's merely confirmation." He muttered. "A horse is missing from the stables. They think it was one last sleight against the throne before his departure."

She scoffed, "Oh dear, one missing horse. He'll have to be hunted down, I suppose."

He looked at her gravely. She rolled her eyes, "Maliketh, really. Let him have it. He would be an idiot to return. And if he did, I would hound him myself." She passed the figure, brushing his shoulder purposely, a command to move. He stood place for a moment, before turning towards the woman.

"What will you have me tell the children?"

She stopped and stood in silence. After a moment she looked back at him.

"Tell them... that their father is dead. They will grieve... and they will be allowed that honor." She paused, "Send Godwyn to me. I shall tell him myself."

Maliketh dropped to one knee and bowed, "I will do as you wish, my queen."

She looked down at him, "Thank you, dear brother."

When he was gone, Marika retired to her chambers. The night was finally beginning to set over the castle. Through the thick darkness of the room, she lit candles one by one and waited for her son to arrive at her door. Marika dreaded the conversation, knowing full well it would break Godwyn's heart. She despised the idea of lying to him, but knew it was necessary. Marika paused only briefly to steel herself for what was to come, and continued lighting the room.

Finally lighting the last candle, Marika turned around only to find herself mere inches from a hideous, twitching face. She gasped in terror and staggered backwards, nearly knocking a sconce to the floor. Before her was the wrinkled, leathery face of an old woman. Her eyes blind, clouded and yellow, and her large, toothless mouth twitched at random; but this woman was no mortal. Long, grey, straw-like hair cascaded over leathery wings that sprouted from her arms. Her limbs were skeletal, emaciated. A harpy. Even more unnatural was her size, as she towered over the queen.

"How... How did you get in here??" Marika's eyes were wide, fierce.

The creature pointed a long, clawed finger at her, "Queen Marika the Eternal..." Its voice was hoarse as it spoke in haggard breaths, "Sorrow will plague you and your lineage in the coming years... your reign will fall at your own hands..."

Marika glared at the creature, "Speak plainly, witch."

"The hounding of The First Elden Lord has begun a terrible cycle of death... it will lead to your destruction... your family will suffer, cursed empyrean... beware the tarnished."

"... What are the tarnished?" Marika slowly grabbed the sconce behind her; but the hag did not indulge her, instead it turned and prowled towards the window.

"Answer me." Marika demanded. It howled with crooked, mad laughter and pointed another claw at the queen. "Beware Marika the Eternal! Beware!"

Suddenly, the harpy leapt from the window and flew off into the night. It's dwindling, wicked cackle echoed throughout the castle, until the sound was no more. Marika stood breathlessly in her room, trying to understand what she had just witnessed. She slowly let go of the sconce and put a hand on her chest, steadying her nerves. The words that the harpy spoke played over and over again in her mind. Surely they were just the ramblings of a mad old hag... they couldn't possibly have any truth to them. How it had snuck up on her, past the guards, she didn't know. Before she could gather her thoughts any more, a knock rattled her door.

Marika started. "Who is it?" She called, still shaken.

"Apologies for the disturbance, your highness. Your son has been sent by lord Maliketh."

Right. She had almost completely forgotten. Marika straightened her hair and took a deep breath.

"Send him in."