The Great White Lion

Chapter 20: Traitor Executioner

(I'm sorry for the wait, but I promise you! The wait was worth it (if you consider it worth it?)! )

Anazella lay limp next to the cold stone wall of her prison cell. She was given nothing to keep her warm from the cold gust whipping its way past. The others around her grew stiff of the wind, but they were more use to these condition of no protection whatsoever. The goblin in the cell in front of her, on of her new friends who recognized her, looked very worried for her well being as she coughed up nothing but everything.

"Your Majesty?" Tarto was his name. He shivered at the contact of the cold bars to his rough, light purple hands, "Are you fairing alright, My Lady?"

"Thank you, Tarto." Anazella first whispered with a pained smile, "I am perfectly fine where I am. But please, call me Zella. I am no longer the empress of this kingdom."

"You are perfectly more compatible than that darned rotten mongrel fish we have as an emperor, My Lady!" Tarto snapped back while crossing his legs, careful not to cut his beaten legs with his own dull, but lethal claws, "I wish to not yell, but I must for the rightful cause."

"Say Tarto," Anazella scooted closer to her own iron bars of imprisonment, "You have told me your story, and I have mine. Why is it that you are closed behind those bars?"

The goblin paused for a mere second, hesitant to recall his own reason for being in such an awful dungeon. Anazella watched as he dropped his eyes to his hands where he lifted them and twinkled his cut fingers. What looked like faery dust flew out, but in very weak quantities.

"I had a friend, my only friend, back in the Wolfern woods where my tribe is living," Tarto explained, "She was a fae, a very beautiful fae that I think about every single day. She gave me fae dust, so I could fly with her in the woods. It was magical, fun, wonderful. I couldn't ask for a better friend than her." He paused, a grim expression flattening his small smile, "My father disliked our relationship since Fae and Goblins do not like one another. So, he hunted the village of fae and killed every last one of them. Her name was Vaelophine, and she raced over to me with grave wounds. She died in my hands, and for that reason, she has become one with me."

"Ah, yes. Fae folk do have wonderful powers, don't they?" Anazella chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yes, so I am the first Goblin to have such powers. I am able to talk to trees and plants as well as fly, but I'm not simply powerful enough to stay midair for much longer than seven strikes of the long hand."

"That must be why you have more human features, and your teeth aren't as sharp. Your skin is lighter than others I've seen. Thank you, Tarto. Thank you for sharing such personal details."

"Anything for you, My Lady," Tarto smiled back sadly as he leaned against the wall.

Another hour passed with the two talking lowly to one another. Both hardly knew what time of day it was, as there were no windows in this awful dungeon they were thrown in. It had been the longest week Anazella had ever gone through. It had gotten worse when her cell as suddenly opened by ruthless guards. Many of the prisoners became curious, and heads shot through the bars to catch what was going down.

A boy, no older than eighteen years of age, was thrown inside the cell lifelessly. The royal guards took no hesitation into roughly pushing him into the small cell. His clothes were bloody and cut while his olive skin bore worse scars Anazella had ever seen. His white hair was dirty and tinted red from the possible blood filtering through it. On alert, Anazella conversed all her strength to reach the boy and turn him over.

"Emperor Valider has commanded that you will not be having dinner today for your rude actions towards royalty. You have been placed on death row a week from today." One of the guards, a rather wide one, spat. The two walked away in disgust, and Anazella could only worry about the boy as she turned him over.