Blood Rider [Alonia's Queenslayer #1]

SPECIAL: How Ejder met Valda

VALENTINE'S SPECIAL: HOW EJDER MET VALDA

The town was filled with yells and pitchforks.

The grey streets were barely holding weight of all the men, women and children that had gathered on the square, yelling and screaming insults. The sun shone above them, promising a rainless day.

"Burn the witches!"

"Kill them!"

"Burn! Burn!"

Adults were throwing stones while children opted for rotten tomatoes. A barefoot child was picking up the remains of the food and stuffing it in its mouth. 

A young man, some twenty years old, was standing in the front row. He had a muscular build and wore dented armour. His face was set in a scowl and had one single scar stretching from his nose to his chin, cutting across his lips. His hands were crossed in front of him and a sword was hanging on his back. The townsfolk around him were a safe distance away, not only because of the colour of skin but also due to the fact that he wore a dragon badge on his shirt. 

His dark eyes scanned the spectacle at which the townsfolk were so mad at. Three stakes were positioned in the middle of the square, with people standing all around them. The first stake held an elderly lady, tied with magic-suppressing ropes (which were, oddly enough, produced by mages) which seemed unnecessary. She didn't have a single drop of magic in her blood, as far as Ejder could sense. She wasn't struggling, either. She seemed to have passed out already. Next to her was a slightly younger woman, also with no magic. Her eyes were fearful and she was tugging at her restraints.

The most peculiar of the bunch was the third woman. 

Magic was pouring out of her like water, her aura so bright that Ejder could barely keep still in her presence. Her dark hair was ruffled and her black clothes ripped and dirty. Yet, she stood straight. Her face was set in an angry scowl and her eyes swore vengeance at the world. 

"Burn the witch! Burn the witch!" the people demanded. 

Ejder scowled. He was a rider and he was forbidden from interfering with the witch hunt. The great war was a traumatic even for everyone, and although mages remained neutral, the common folk widely believed that they were guilty of treason. He knew that the elves were burning them, too. All those who didn't manage to hide and escape. 

Suddenly, the only mage among the three looked at him. Her eyes weren't pleading - no, they were demanding. Angry. 

Ejder clenched his fist as he returned her gaze with utter coldness. He couldn't save her. He had seen many burn already, and all he could and did do was bury their remains. He would do the same for her.

She didn't stop staring, so Ejder eventually lowered his gaze, the shame of his helplessness making his head feel heavy.

Immediately, the guard in charge of the burning emerged from the crowd carrying a torch. Ejder watched as the crowd went wild, as the guard lowered the torch to the elderly woman's feet. The wood caught fire instantly. 

The woman in the middle screamed in pure terror as the flames swallowed the grandma without a single sound.

The village folk cheered as the awful smell of burnt meat filled the air.

Ejder only watched as the torch got in contact with the middle woman. She was begging the guard, but as soon as her stake was engulfed with flames, her screams stopped.

Ejder caught on instantly, his eyes locking onto the third woman. She was looking at her burning companions now, and her expression was sorrowful. Was it possible that she was so powerful as to cast spells while tied with anti-magic ropes? She was taking away the pain of the other women, but she clearly didn't have enough magic to escape. Peculiar.