Forest of Ashes

Chapter Seven (Rough)

Once Owen had grabbed the coin, the world was enveloped into darkness. Ribbons of shadow snaked around him, slithering across his body. Fighting against the black mass, he managed to slip the token inside his shirt pocket. He did it just in time because the unnatural force began to squeeze his body.

Struggling for breath, he tried to summon the fire inside him. But it didn't come. A coldness had enveloped his body, freezing his blood and killing the warmth inside his veins.

What is happening to me?

His mind fell on one answer: this was the power of Noctis. His already slim chance of survival weakened at the thought.

Owen tried to shout for help. When he saw Ivan, he realised that he was alone. The commander was pinned to a tree, tendrils of shadows holding him in place. He grimaced, his face red as he tried to escape. Bree was also constrained, though she was still unconscious. Her mouth opened and closed like she was trying to say something in her sleep.

Looking around, he saw that everyone was in the same situation. But while they were struggling to escape the force that was controlling them, no one spoke. No one even looked in Owen's direction. It was ghostly quiet.

The boy felt helpless. While he was used to the feeling, bullying from the local children had made it become his companion, never before had he felt so defeated. But even with this magical force pinning him to the forest floor, he didn't cry. Maybe I've run out of tears?

"I don't want to hurt you."

The voice was soft and light, reminding him of his Grandmother. An ice-cold hand cupped his cheek and a finger wiped the spot where a tear would have fallen. Should have fallen.

Owen didn't want to look at the speaker, he focused on glaring at the ground, too scared of what he might see.

But it seemed that the voice had a different idea, the hand sharply lifted his chin up so he had no option but to look upon her face. While she was beautiful, there was no mistaking the ice that was in her eyes.  They were same as the tawny owls: pitch black but with specks of starlight in them. It reminded him of when he looked up at the night sky, small and alone. 

The speaker wore finery, a golden necklace and a silk dress, though it seemed worn and used. Her gown was fraying and was stained with mud and blood. She looked like a con. Many people were like this in Sanus, buying the cast-offs from the Royal family to appear influential and wealthy in the eyes of the commoners.

The woman leaned forward, her long golden hair tickling the boy's chin. Smiling, she stroked his cheek as if he was her lap dog. He wanted to break free, spit in her face, but his body was frozen in place. The ribbons of shadows were stronger now, almost as if they were more powerful the closer she was to them.

Summoning the energy to speak, Owen managed to whisper her name, "Tyra."

The woman's fingers dug into his skin, her nails drawing blood which trickled down his cheek and neck. He made sure not to flinch. Owen had made her angry and at this very moment, nothing would please him more. He may not be like Marie, kicking and screaming her way to vengeance, but he had his own ways of getting under peoples skin.

"My name is The Mortem. And you will remember that."

The only resemblance to her sister, the Queen of Sanus, was her blonde hair. Other than that, they looked completely different. The Queen had softer features, always adorning a bright smile in paintings while Tyra's face was sharp and angular.

Her hands still grabbed his cheeks, forcing him to look straight at her. Owen guessed she wanted to appear in control, as there was no need to hold him. The dark matter she had summoned was doing the job for her.