Dark Throne

A soft chuckle escaped the queen’s ruby lips as she gazed at her new prize. “Such a beautiful object.” She purred fondly, stroking a knotted onyx staff. “The staff of a Messenger of Death.” A light laugh escaped her throat. Her lips curved into a smile. “You’ve done well, Keon.”

A young man with ash-colored hair knelt before her. “Anything for you, my queen. Retrieving the powers of Death was nothing.”

Ferro had to force himself to keep from gagging. From his spot in the corner, he watched the queen stroke Keon’s cheek.

“You may leave me now.” The queen informed Keon. He bowed before quickly jumping to his feet and rushing off.

“You too, Ferro. I need no guards now.” Ferro bowed and retreated to the door.

Once the door was shut and Keon was on his way down the corridor, Ferro pulled his hood up to shadow his face. He ducked behind a large statue of a former queen.

This secret trek out of the castle was familiar to him. The pathway led to a small river side hut just outside the protective walls of the castle.

　

　

　

Candra looked up as the door to their small hideout opened, revealing a hooded figure. The figure slipped his hood from well-known, long chestnut hair. His eyes glittered seriously like cold emeralds.

“New information, sir?” Candra questioned, standing when he entered.

Ferro smirked lightly as he pulled a leather bound book from the pocket of his cloak. Candra rose a brow. “You wrote about it in your diary?”

“Yea- It’s not mine!” Ferro shouted, slightly red from his near mistake.

Candra snickered and plopped back down onto her chair. “Whose then?”

Ferro sat the diary down in front of her, “Lamia’s.”

Candra's eyes shot to him. "The Queen's? How did you get this?"

"I found it a moth ago, but I was not able to retrieve it until now."

Candra snatched the book up, nearly knocking over a candle in her haste, and turned to a random page. “She sent Keon out to find an item to make her immortal?” She paled. “Oh, Ferro, tell me she didn’t find it…”

When Ferro remained silent, she received her answer. “Find something earlier. This could be a key to getting rid of her.” He said quickly.

Candra flipped to the first page and began to read. “June ninth. ‘My midwife tells me that I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Flawless, she said. I’m not surprised. It’s a shame I won’t see her. If the prophecy is correct, this child could be my end. I’ve ordered my midwife to take the child into the village. I’m not sure what will become of the baby, but I cannot allow her to remain. Perhaps we will meet again, though for my own sake, I hope not.’”

Candra sat the book down. Her wide eyes met with Ferro’s similar expression.

“She had a child…” Candra whispered.

“A child that’s probably dead.” Ferro hissed.

“Maybe not.” Candra looked at him. “When have you ever heard of a midwife that is willing to leave a baby she delivered to die?”

“You think the child is still alive?”

“I think we should find the midwife. But, first we need her name.” She flipped a few pages. “Blah, blah, blah…here we go! ‘Flora informed me that she has done what I asked and has left the baby in the village…’ Flora…I know her!” She exclaimed.

Ferro turned to her. “Really?”

Candra nodded. “She was midwife to a friend of mine. I know where she lives. It’s not far.” She slipped on her cloak and opened the door. “I’ll show you there.”

“How do we know she’ll remember?” The rebel leader asked.

His second looked at him. “Would you forget?”