He was stiff as a rock.
The urge to run away from her blinding beauty was fierce, but he could not find it in him to move an inch in her presence. Such beauty, elegance, and poise... He was a nobleman, yet even she puts the grace of nobility to shame.
That, or he was utterly taken by her.
"You are...?"
She calls him again and this time, he answers, though stuttering.
"Y-Your Grace, I am Ellis Gregory Trivith." He curtsies, sloppily.
Immediately, the Queen's smile drops. "Oh, dear, I apologize for my insensitivity—"
"It is alright, really," he quickly cuts off. "I am grateful for Your Majesty's high spirits in my time of mourning."
The queen was flustered, but it only enraptured him further.
"I... Oh dear, still, I apologize, Lord Ellis. I did not recognize your distinct Trivith features... I was taken by your charms to realize it." Eli's smile widened.
"Please, call me Eli..." This was scandalous—very scandalous. But Eli cared naught for his reputation. So he bravely asks, "Would you like to promenade with me, Your Majesty?"
Although hesitant, the Queen ultimately agrees and they quietly promenade around the garden, the beauty overwhelming Eli now that an ethereal woman is walking with him. Their small talks led him to discover her poor health—she's sickly and frail, and she barely leaves her chambers. Because she felt stuffy today, she needed fresh air and thus, they met.
Slowly but surely, the Queen took Eli's heart with her eloquence and charming innocence. She knew, for every gaze they shared, his' was sparkling with interest. And every time they shyly avoided, hers' glinted differently.
· • —–٠ ☀ ٠ —– • ·
As Carmilla's carriage slows into the Tower, her senses pick up a strange ambiance.
She fished out her grimoire, a small book of all the spells she'd learned thus far, and readied herself for battle. The Tower was never this... grim.
Although it was always quiet, it was only due to the wizards studying. It was never eerily quiet.
She entered the brooding entrance and was welcomed by silence in the halls, almost always chaotic and busy with wizards practicing in her path. Today, there was no one. Not even a flicker of magic was in the magical tower's hallway.
What is happening?
Why does it feel almost... abandoned?
The tower hides a wide field in its center. Exit the seemingly endless halls and one will find themselves in the illogically wide grassfield. Carmilla found her way to it and that was where she found everyone. She almost let out a sigh of relief, until she realized what they were all doing.
The wizards all wore white cloaks, with tear-stained faces, and where doves hovered overhead. It was a clear Sunday afternoon, the clouds visible in the sky, yet there seemed to be nothing but gloominess in the field.
Why are they crying?
That was, until her eyes found the portrait of the one man that kept the Wizards' Tower grounded, in the middle of the field, and a white casket below.
The Father.
The emotional link to all wizards.
The most powerful that he almost seemed a higher being, yet also the most humane, the closest to humankind. The highest, but also the closest.
YOU ARE READING
Siege
FantasyTeaser: Eventually, the malevolent voices welcomed themselves into her mind. It was anything but forceful. And as she left her sanctuary, Keres took them with her. To the outside world. Where she can finally execute her plan. A new God was born from...
