The War of Dusk and Dawn

Chapter Two

"No, Sir, please! I promise I didn't mean to!"

The desperate plea of the little boy tore through the air, piercing Lily's ears as it imprinted itself in her mind like a tattoo. From her vantage point in the opulent royal box, she could do nothing but bear witness to the unfolding tragedy, her gaze locked onto the small, fragile figure sprawled upon the unforgiving cobblestone plaza.

The child's pale arms were a mosaic of pain, adorned with cruel reminders of the journey he had endured. Citizens of Vylit had forced the boy through the streets, their fury and disdain manifesting as vicious kicks and hateful screams. And now, here he was, in the heart of Calix Park, at the mercy of a merciless crowd.

"Good citizens of Casaad!" King Vane's voice reverberated above the anguished cries of the boy who lay helpless before him. The jubilant crowd responded with fervent cheers, their collective glee drowning out the child's sobs.

Lily's stomach churned with a mixture of revulsion and helplessness. This was a grotesque spectacle, a morbid ritual of vengeance. The boy, no older than seven or eight, was on the verge of death and no one was about to lift a finger to help.

Lily scanned the masses of Casaadans, trying to spot anyone who might be the parents of the boy, but to no avail. Every single soul gathered in the Park was thirsty for Draioh blood, revelling in the torment.

"As your sovereign, it is my solemn duty to safeguard our great nation and its people!" King Vane proclaimed, his gaze fixed disdainfully upon the trembling child at his feet. The crowd's approval swelled, and Lily heard loud hoots and whistles behind her.

"But," The king continued, his voice dripping with scorn as he addressed the distraught boy, "I cannot fulfil that duty while these vermin roam freely, imperilling our families and our way of life."

Once more, the crowd erupted in cheers, and Lily's heart sank further. This was madness, cruelty sanctioned by the highest authority. The innocent boy had not chosen to be born a Draioh, to be born with the rare and feared curse of mind-control. He was about to become a grim example of what? Of living?

The screams of the boy grew louder in Lily's head, drowning out the noise of the rest of the people gathered in the park square. Her heart was pumping in her ears, and the overwhelming surge of fear that she was all too familiar with came rushing into her bloodstream, coursing through her veins and fuelling each of her breaths.

She could save the boy.

She could do it. All it would take was a little concentration, a little focus and then her father's mind would be hers, as easy to mould and shape as clay. She could buy more than enough time for the child to run, but with the chaos going on around her Lily wouldn't be able to hold it for too much longer. And then, of course, they would find out. The King would look directly into her eyes and pull his sword from his sheath.

The King raised the glittering gold blade, the colour reflecting off the sun in a blinding ray of light, and then brought it down swiftly and sharply.

There wasn't even a scream.

The child's limbs were splayed out in a slowly growing pool of crimson, the hilt held by a bejewelled hand as the King raised an arm to the applause of the people. The boy's silvery blonde hair was turning red, the strands soaking up the blood like a sponge. His eyes were open, and the lifeless, glassy blue eyes seemed to be staring at Lily. I know what you are, they said. I know what you could have done.

And then the eyes weren't blue at all, but a bright amber. It was Lily's own face staring back at her, and then the corpse was screaming and screaming and the noise was so loud and it was all her fault, she was going to be the death of them all-