I was in awe, although I did not let myself show it. We walked down the continued cobblestone path, through a garden. It was beautiful from what I could see in the dark. There was grass on either side of the path, stretching out for what seemed like miles. There were stone fountains in the center of each field.
I did a double take as I looked closer and realized that there was blood in them, not water. The fountains are extremely large. They almost looked as though it would take about 30 seconds to swim across one. Not that I would ever attempt it. The top of each fountain, where the blood came out, was a massive stone head. Eternal pain was etched on their faces as they were lifted toward the sky, the thick blood flowing from their opened mouth and terrified eyes. I let myself wonder for a moment, what was going on when those were carved. Who the example was for the sculptor.
They were flowers of all different colors peppered throughout any rose in the garden. They framed long pathways in benches made of stone. I would've loved to see it in the light, to smell the flowers. To hold them. I saw all kinds of different flowers, although I did not know the names of any of them.
We approached another massive stone staircase, this one three times steeper, and longer. It led up to a grand entrance with doors taller than buildings. There were stone statues all over the peaks of the castle that looked like winged monsters. They were beautiful in an eerie way, it almost felt like their eyes were following me as we walked.
Simon stopped at the double doors as they opened very slowly for him. We had caught up to him, but kept our distance. Out of respect, I assumed. Not that I respected him at all.
A blonde looking man, who was rather tall with wide shoulders, and a bit of a gut approached Simon, and bowed. It was not a very deep bow, it seemed more customary. I didn't know anything about Simon, or if he even came from power whatsoever. I didn't really know anything about anyone who came from power.
The man, who seemed to greet Simon, was dressed in very expensive clothing. There were buttons going from the nape of his neck down his chest. The red fabric of his top firmly flowed down to his knees. Although only in the back. The red complemented the gold accents on the outfit very well, the black pants and shiny black shoes with red laces completed to look. He stood straight up once more and gestured with his arm into the ornate castle. "Welcome Sir Simon St. James. The estate of Lord Edward Vienna welcomes you."
Simon proceeded forward, like he hadn't a care in the world, and disappeared to the right. The man who greeted him did not even acknowledge my presence whatsoever. It was like he saw this kind of thing every day, a woman being dragged, her dress ripped open, covered in blood. How could you turn a blind eye? His eyes were a gorgeous, green color, so I knew he was not a vampire. How could this be something so normal to him?
Although he did speak to the two men currently holding me hostage. All he said was, "Follow me, I'll show you where to dump her. Our preparation room is just this way." he started walking to the left, down a very long hallway. I was too distracted by what was around me to realize how long we had been walking or where we were going. I noted that we descended down a long dim staircase into a new hallway.
There were gold accents everywhere. The walls had gold trim, the lamps along the walls were evenly, spaced and radiated in a warm glow. There were paintings every so often, but I could not decipher what was going on in them very well. Many seemed like battles and some were merely people, although none smiled, and all radiated power.
They were so beautiful. I wished I could stop and look at them, if the situation was different. There was a very detailed gold design etched into the smoothly concave ceiling, with large golden chandeliers, evenly spaced every so often. I could not even imagine the money and the time it would take to build a place like this. The scary thing about it is that it looked like it had been here for quite a while.
The men's shoes, scuffed and clicked against the marble flooring. Eventually, we stopped walking and came to a set of black double doors. They were so tall, they seemed to go on forever. I looked around me and realized that everyone was abnormally tall. I was about 5',4" our host and the guards in front of the door, as well as my captors, Simon's henchmen, towered over me. I never really paid too much attention to it, but these men — these creatures, were massive. I would say confidently that they were somewhere between 6'5 and 6'8. Our host seemed to be about 6'2. A somewhat average height for a mortal, human man.
Not only was their height so exaggerated, but so was their strength. Their bodies were huge. I was used to their brute strength from the horrors that I faced over the last four years. I had broken bones under their hands. The textiles of their clothes almost groaned in agony at the stretch it endured as they moved.
The man knocked once, and the large double doors swung open. We all walked through together and came to a reception desk, immediately in front of us. It was large and made of cherry wood. It had to cost thousands of coins. It was littered with papers, although they seem to be neatly organized. Behind the desk there were large floor to ceiling bookshelves with a blend of bland looking books on them. There were a few arm chairs placed on top of the rug in front of the desk, even though they looked expensive. There was a large black door in the left corner of the room, and another guard looking man stood next to it.
YOU ARE READING
WARHAVEN
FantasyHis irises swirled slowly, an enticing pale silver against his stark black lashes. They illuminated slightly, so quick it was gone in a blink. He broke our eye contact, lifting his head straight. A darkly amused expression appeared. It happened so q...