Scorn and Devotion

Chapter 26

Warnings - Gore, mentions of torture, self harm, mentions of suicide

Timothée and I were floated down to the main floor after our bargain had been struck. The center of the throne room, where we'd been previously standing had lowered, creating a pit. Timothée and I stood to the far left as Fae jeered and shouted at us. I flipped my sword in my hand, readying for battle.

A moment later I heard booming footsteps approaching. A large door on the far right of the pit opened up. The first things to come out of it were three Fae males, all with large muscles and grizzly-looking faces, all this at odds with their delicate graceful movements and extra jointed fingers. They were holding chains, pulling something large out of the great opening.

My heart sank to my toes as I beheld what we were to fight. I glanced at Timothée and saw how much paler he was than normal.

A great green and red Wyvern stood at least fifteen feet tall. If I were an optimistic and positive person, I might have thanked my lucky stars it wasn't the Wyvern's more awful cousin the dragon.

I went through everything Natalie had taught us about Wyverns in my head. Unlike dragons, they couldn't spew flame, and they had no wings. They stood on two feet instead of four, and their front arms were shorter than the large limbs of the dragon. Their hides were not nearly as tough as their cousin's, but their claws were sharper, as were their teeth. They did not hoard as dragons were want to do, but they were incredibly intelligent. Natalie had told us that especially in the early years of our world, that many had mistaken a Wyvern and a Dragon. This was why so many tales and books taught that dragons were viciously smart. In truth, it was Wyverns who were the crafty and intelligent ones. Dragon's were lazier like big brutes and would only attack if provoked. They moved slowly and one could almost always predict their moves. Wyverns were a whole other story.

As these thoughts flew past at lightning speed, I had the nagging feeling I was missing something. There was one more important truth about Wyverns that my memory was leaving out.

I watched as the keepers dragged the Wyvern out. The Wyvern's eyes shone with frightening comprehension. It knew what it was here for. I noticed burn marks and slashes in the Wyvern's hide. Perhaps this animal was tortured just as we were being tortured. I wondered when it had last been fed, because it continuously let its forked tongue slither out over its lips as it stared at Timothée and me. I wondered why then, it did not lunge at the guards keeping it chained. It showed them absolutely no interest. It didn't even look in their direction.

"If you kill my Wyvern, you will have passed the first task," Abraxas informed us. I wondered what kind of magic it took to make his voice ring out like that in such a large room. He wasn't even raising his voice above a normal level.

The crowd was laughing and cheering. I felt a sudden wave of panic. What if I died never getting true freedom again, what if Timothée died and someone atrocious got the crown. Then I had an even worse thought. What if Timothée died and I survived. It would be earth-shattering. It would be hard not to forfeit right then and there. I looked over at him pale, shaking, and nervous, yet still lovely and strong.

"Timothée," I called, and he turned his head. We shared a long look.

"If we don't make it o-"

I shushed him gently.

"We will make it," I assured him, he didn't look convinced but he nodded grimly.

"Let the first task begin!" cried Abraxas. Instantly the chains on the Wyvern's neck and arms were unlocked and they fell from him. The Fae did not retreat, but grinned on, no fear on their faces. Did they think they had this beast so well trained that he would turn down a chance to devour them?