Citadel of Shadows

Chapter Two

Alamora

I watched as the soldiers, clad in black and silver, cut down the Citadel guards and hunters. I watched with wide-eyed horror as death surrounded me. I could smell the blood and hear the screams.

I turned to Yllia and shoved her back with one hand, raising my other as I started to chant under my breath. As I held the completed spell, my hand shaking with the effort, my eyes narrowed on the leader.

"Get Isan and Daven. Get my staff."

She nodded and ran off, though I could feel the reluctance and almost hear the argument she would give. I inhaled sharply and let out a scream as a blue-white arc of lightning struck their leader in the chest, burning the ground at his feet.

I let the rage and magic consume me. I saw only red.

I needed to protect my home, my people. Even if they did not call me theirs.

Energy crackled in the air around my palms, my scars burning white-hot as I cast spell after spell. Some were burned alive, others were thrown back, a few were impaled by sharpened roots from beneath the forest floor. The guards and hunters that were alive, helped.

I felt an arrow imbed itself into my shoulder, but I simply ignored it. I could heal it after the battle, after everyone was safe. It was not as important as the people that could not defend themselves. There were children that did not understand hate and that hatred was powerful.

As I fought, as I killed, my mind burned with memories I could not see. Of whips, of nails digging into my face, of words that tore me apart. I was set ablaze, from the inside out.

I screamed again, this time in agony and long-forgotten pain. I watched as the last soldier looked at me with fear in his eyes, his body slowly rotting away. I had tapped into a dark, gnarled part of myself to do that. I fell to my knees and looked up at the night sky, praying for some form of forgiveness.

Around me were bodies of my people, of the elves that were supposed to protect our home. I prayed for them, I prayed for their families. I could not undo the deaths or the pain that they would leave behind, but I could hope that the goddess of Amara would be welcoming.

I focused on the last dregs of my energy to heal the survivors and fell to the side, allowing the darkness to take me. I needed the cold emptiness more than I needed to see the horrified faces.

Yllia

Yllia came to the border with the Council, Anae, Isan and Daven in tow. Her eyes widened at the ash and blood that coated the grass, at the bodies that were strewn across the sand and the line between the two lands. She could see a familiar flower crown and she darted towards Alamora, pulling her lover into her arms. She could see the people she had grown up with around her, all staring at the stars. The survivors were more than the dead, thankfully, and she could see that Alamora had turned the tide. She looked down at her beloved, her face growing pale at the arrow in her shoulder.

"Anae!"

The healer appeared by her side, hands gently prodding at Alamora's wound. To the untrained eye, she did not seem to care that her daughter was injured, but her face was pale and there was a slight tremor in her usually steady hands.

"It was poisoned. I will have to remove the arrow now and apply an antidote. Thankfully, I have the one we need here. We needn't run back to my home just yet."

She took a metal tin out of her healer's kit and opened it, revealing a salve. It reeked of medicinal herbs. Yllia held onto Alamora's unconscious form tightly, not wanting her beloved to thrash around after the arrow was removed.