Chapter 3: Diamond
Unseelie Palace
Vermillon covered his mouth as the wind blew ice down the hill where Pirlanta had frozen the corpses. His eyes watered from the cold and it was only going to get colder now that the Queen of the Seelie court has become weaker and the prince was nowhere to be found, making his skin as brittle as limestone. The head of the scepter had been missing for decades and without the monarchs to support it, their world was getting even more erratic.
The war they waged was the cause of the weather, but Vermillon would not admit it, at least not outloud.
Vermillon's skin resembled burnt orange-- not the finest color for a fairy of the unseelie court. The color reminded his people of the Seelie Court which was never a good thing, but Vermillon liked his skin. They provided a much better camouflage in their enemies' kingdom than moonstone or onyx.
The sentries at the gate saluted as Vermillon rode past them. Hell's Hound. That's what they called him. The King's burning shadow. Vermillon had served under Pirlanta since he had challenged the Seelie King. It had taken centuries to establish the Unseelie court, and for the Unseelie to get their first King.
The drive leading up the palace was lined with stone statues, traitors and prisoners that have been unfortunate enough to incite the anger of the King's mistress. Ice foged up all the windows of the palace, just as in all the lodgings the King presided in. The walls glittered with diamonds and silver doors housed the servants of the palace.
Pirlanta. In their language, it meant "diamond". Like all the unseelie, he was the son of the Seelie King. He was born of The Song, just like all the unseelie were. The exaction of the Seelie King's boredom. A mistake.
Most of the unseelie hid in caves and dark places underground where they could not be hunted. Pirlanta, however, was more interested in the world above ground. For a long time, he lay in one of the Seelie cities' outcrops. From there he studied their tactics and weapons, snuck into their towns and military camps. He was barely a youngling when he conquered his first Seelie City.
The guards announced his presence. Pirlanta was standing in front of a map showing the positions of his enemies. The firgurines representing their troops were made of ice while the Seelie forces marched in twigs. Pirlanta scrutinized them, searching for a way to beat them all at once. He was wearing black, as he always did when he was out of his armor, and more than ever his pale skin burned white.
Pirlanta's current wife was wearing silver, as usual, as she lay in layers of white silk that showed off her pale blue complexion. Even the most beautiful Unseelie woman would have paled next to her, like a pebble to a pearl, but Vermillon knew better than to look at her for too long. Her beauty was a poisonous dart. Stories of the things she had done carried throughout the kingdom. She who, with a single slip of hand, turned men into inanimate bushes or slimy frogs.
The witch gave Pirlanta a brief glance as he entered. The Dark Witch.
He turned his back on her and bowed his head to the King. "You summoned me?"
Pirlanta grabbed one of the ice figurines and weighed it at the palm of his hand. "I need you to find someone for me. A dragon's offspring."
The guards exchanged quick looks.
The Unseelie will rise and the seelie will fall,
You will gain power to it all.
The stone will give you what you seek,
But a dragon's child will make you weak.
It holds the key to your demise,
And with it a new reign will rise.
It was a rhyme told to the unseelie children to fill the darkness underground.
Vermillon took a deep breath then cast a quick glance at the Witch. "They're extinct."
A smile snuck into Pirlanta's lips. "Don't worry. She dreamed that the dragon's offspring is in the mortal city of Hongkong."
She. The Witch trailed a finger on the collar of her dress. A different color on each nail. Each one for a different curse. Vermillon felt a rage rise in him. He would die for his king, but chasing after his wife's dreams were a different story.
"We already infected the dragons with her stone curse years ago, your majesty."
"Find her immediately." Pirlanta said. "She saw her. And so far, she has always been right."
The witch moved closer to the king's side. The figurine in the king's hand melted and poured over one the wooden twigs. It turned to ice before promptly disintegrating into dust. Vermillon imagined himself as one of the figures she held in her hand. Ready to be disposed at her convenience. "As you wish."
The witch unclasped a pearl locket from her neck. Droplets of water shed from her skin and onto the marble floor. White spiders rose from the water and scrurried up the window and out of the castle. The guards backed away from them. It was well known that even one of her humble spells could hurt even a full grown ogre. "Once they find it, they will come to you. They will lead you to her. Bring it to me alive."
Vermillon bowed to his king to signal his departure. He did not look at the Witch again. Her stone curse may have hastened their victory but he was certain they would have won the war without it. Winning without her, would have made the victory all the more sweeter.
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Inspired by the scene in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.
This chapter is dedicated to @perplexing for the beautiful cover she made :)
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