The Chronicles Of Death

Chapter Seven: The Worst Has Yet To Come

Chapter Seven: The Worst Has Yet To Come

          All Echoe's short life, she'd always seen the palace in the distance. Potrait-esque when the sun set and exquisite when the moon rose. Gleaming black stone shimmered with every light that bounced against it, each shattering into intangible pieces of beauty. Large stained glass windows depicted a heroic fight between a knight and a beast like creature. It loomed over the city, as if it was both protecting and dominating the town and its people. She knew the windows were much newer than the structure itself, having been crafted by a village far north less than a century before, but she did not know what type stone was used to build the palace.

         She knew there was something mystical about it. She felt that a deep, somewhat dormat power was rooted in the walls and towers and that it extended far into the ground as well. All she could do was wonder, she rarely if ever, wanted to be near the place. She was content with looking at it from afar. There was something there, something only she could feel. It had an aura, and not a kind one either. Devious and sinister impressions came to her. Something evil was hidden beneath the palace and it wasnt human.

            Echoe could feel eyes following her as she past the royal gate. Inhuman eyes that seemed to purposefully seek her, continually following her from their vantage point in the cemetary housing the past royals.

            In front of the entrance stood two statues of men, one on each side. Both had been there long before she could remember. Over seven feet tall and carved from a dark red stone, they had intricate faces that seemed too detailed to be carved. Each mouth curved upwars, as though they were suppressing a smirk, and intriguingly enough, both sets of hands were poised in a prayful attitude. Thin chains bound their wrists together and sword carved out of crystal was shoved between the gaps of their hands and imbedded where their hearts were.

          For some unknown reason she'd always hated them. A cold anger, as if it had been inside her for a long time, welled up and threatened to escape every time she looked at them. Like who ever they were, they had caused her a great grievance, one that could not be undone.

           Ever since the first time she had passed them almost thirteen years before, strong emotions of sadness, abhorance, and pain came to her in a rush. Early on she learned to ignore them, making it so she would be able to forget the feelings on the surface. She generally avoided them as if they were the plauge, but she'd promised to meet Garien on his way home from the palace. She couldnt back out on the promise. Even though they were on the opposite sides of the law, they still found time to meet up and discuss many things. Two months had passed since they'd last seen each other, and as soon as he got home, he sent an invatation for drinks. Alex and Fareen were invited too, but Garien wanted to see her first.

        Lean and muscular, he towered over her by at least six inches. Light chestnut hair had changed to dark mahogany in the past years, and it hung close to his ears. She often mused at how much he had changed. The half pint kid, ganglier than a tree was no more.

         Garien waved as he approached, his feet slightly dragging. Taking his leisurely time, he was soon less than twenty feet away. After a long days journey, he was half in his captain uniform and half in his normal attire. His light brown eyes gleamed over her body, resting finally on her hair. 

        "You cut it?" He asked. Once waist length, it now hung at her shoulders. She nodded and grabbed a strap of leather from her pocket. She wrapped it tightly in a bun and smiled brightly. The Earl's henchman had cut it when he'd subdued her and when she got home she found it to be a very bad hack job. She had to cut it.  He then noticed that her wrist was swollen and tinged with a slight blue color. She was glad he hadn't seen the other hand, there was no broken bone to cover the scar.