.
The priest was still uttering the ceremonial chants when King Xavriel rose from his knees. He turned around and walked slowly as he turned toward the throne.
When he got to where the throne stood with a red cloth covering it, he flung the covering away. The throne itself loomed at the far end of the dais. Its jagged armrests curved like eagle's talons at the end and the high back of it resembled crooked and sharp wings that cast creeping shadows in the light . Embedded rubies were carved into a large eye that stood out glaringly as though watching whoever sat on it.
The guests rose to their feet when they saw him walk towards the throne.Their applause filled the temple in awe and chants of praise.
Elena shivered at the dreary sight of it and she knew she wasn't the only one who did.
What a throne!
Something about that throne made her skin prickle as though invisible nails raked her arms. She looked over at the statue that sat beside her.
Nothing. Not even so much as a reaction or faint surprise.
Damien's eyes never left Xavriel. He was watching his every move.
Xavriel turned and lowered himself into the seat. Immediately his back touched the rest, the crusted rubies flared a dark shade of black and grey. A wide smile spread across his lips at the reaction.
"Long live the King of Veylar!" the herald cried once more, forcing his voice across the temple.
The hall answered half-heartedly, "Long live the King!."
Xavriel lifted one languid hand to silence him. "My people and my welcomed guests. Tonight, you will not only witness the birth of a new reign but partake of it. Come now and celebrate me in the spirit of brotherhood for what better way to bind us than through what we consume?"
His words slithered over Elena's skin like oil.
Whatever that was, it didn't sound good.
.......................
The clamor of the ceremony dwindled as servants ushered the guests toward the larger end of the temple where long banquet tables stretched far beyond the normal. Seventy-two guests in total filled the hall with dread and regret etched all over their faces. The air itself was heavy, as though the temple resented laughter and punished cheer.
Obviously no one wanted to be there, but who would dare annoy the king? Especially one that was a mad man!
Elena and Damien were seated toward the front again. Elena wondered if perhaps he wanted to keep a close eye on them but thankfully, Xavriel did not sit with them. He didn't even arrive.
What kind of king doesn't sit with his guests at his own coronation?
When everyone had taken their numbered seats, a high official draped in white robes stitched with silver thread, stepped forward. He was a rather scrawny looking man but his tthin voice rasped across the silence.
"I am Oriven, master of the royal meals. His Majesty, King Xavriel, has prepared a feast for you himself. You will eat, as commanded for he had gathered the requirements for it."
Murmurs arose at the master's words immediately after he finished talking.
In the same second, the kitchen doors were flung open. A line of servants entered, bearing towering platters and trays that steamed from their covers.
The staff laid out the dishes on the table and took away the covers.
In that moment, angry murmurs and voices erupted in the air.
What the heck?!
Everyone turned away from their plates in disgust. On the trays lay the strangest dishes ever saw: boiled vulture meat with clumps of feathers still clinging to the skin, fried slugs glistening with oil, and slabs of charred flesh that looked disturbingly like human. There were creatures no one could even name: scaled, twisted, burnt, some didn't even look completely dead.
Gasps broke out among the guests.
"Saints preserve us," yelled a theocrat from Valmorra.
"This cannot be real," whispered his wife, clutching her veil over her nose.
Elena swallowed hard. Her throat burned with the urge to gag out her intestines, but beside her Damien sat unnervingly calm and unmoving with his silver eyes fixed on the grotesque display.
He hadn't said anything to her from the moment she arrived at the temple.
Unable to hold it in anymore, she turned to face him."Does this not trouble you?" she asked under her breath. "And why haven't you said anything since? Just what are you thinking about?!"
His jaw flexed and be looked straight at her
"Be quiet." was all he said before returning his gaze back to the plate before him.
Elena blinked once, then twice.
Before she could think of an answer to his two word sentence, servants began piling heaps of the vile food onto each plate.
"Eat," Master Oriven announced. "... as His Majesty commands."
Everyone looked in horror and dread at the master who now looked like witchcraft to them.
At last, a man rose. He was a knight with a broad chest and sun-browned skin who had come all the way from Zarveth, a martial monarchy where knights took government and power in their hands. His voice rang loud across the tables as his fists slapped away his plate.
"I will not!" he declared. " We all came to honor your King, not to dine on this filth!" he yelled. "This is an abomination and a disgrace to us all. We are men, not carrion birds to gnaw on feathers and rot!."
A collective gasp tore through the hall followed by murmurs of support to the knight.
Sir Caelis the Knight shoved another platter aside and strode toward the doors. "I will not be mocked. The whole of Zarveth will hear of this!"
He had taken no more than three steps when a shadow moved. One of the guards appeared behind him like smoke and, with a single motion, drew his blade across the knight's back.The steel cut through the flesh with horrifying ease, staining itself with the blood.
Caelis staggered, his eyes opened wide in shock before crumpling to the floor. Blood pooled across the marble and he laid there, soaked in it.
His body twitched just once then stilled.
Screams erupted from the congregation.
The ladies present including Elena clapped their hands to their mouth as tears streamed down their faces. Damien's hand immediately grasped hers firmly under the table as if telling her to be quiet. The action sent another wave of sudden shock through her but it soon melted as she realized it was him.
Master Oriven's voice rose above the chaos, calm and cruelly despite his thin stature. "The King's command is not a suggestion. Those who refuse his feast will not leave this hall alive. Now... eat."
The unfazed and dull looking servants,
resumed serving, even stepping over Caelis's body to continue their work.
The hesitated but fear triumphed over pride. One by one, they lifted forks and knives with trembling hands. The sound of gagging filled the air as they forced the abominations past their lips.
Elena's stomach roiled intensely. She looked at the plate in front of her and turned to Damien desperately. "What do we do? If we don't eat—"
Her words were cut off by a guard who appeared at her side. He pressed the cold edge of his sword against her throat.
"You will eat, lady," he snarled in the meanest voice she had ever heard.
Her breath hitched in fright of the guard's threat. Her hand shook as she picked up her fork and pierced the lump of meat on her plate. The meat jiggled a bit before rolling over and staring back at her with a boiled, eyeless socket and red liquid flowing slowly from it.
She immediately dropped her fork noisily on the plate then raised it slowly toward her mouth. Her hands trembled violently.
"Don't," Damien said in a low growl.
In a flash, he slapped the fork from Elena's hand. The lump of meat clattered to the floor with an irritating bump as the red liquid continued flowing from the socket.
Before the guard could react, Damien's hand locked around Elena's wrist.
In the blink of an eye, they were gone, vanished from their seats in a rush of wind and black shadow.
Chaos erupted at their disappearance. The nobles screamed and leapt from their seats, rushing for the exits. Chairs toppled, wine glasses spilled and the grotesque meal was forgotten in the frenzy. But this time, the guards stepped aside, allowing them to flee.
Kings, princes, knights, every single person present lost their dignity and rushed out of the temple in a frenzy.
High on the balcony of the temple's highest floor, Xavriel watched as they ran out of the temple. His eyes glowed fully red as he leaned against the balustrade, surveying the panic below.
"Run," he murmured darkly, amused. "Run, little mice. You have already eaten and drunk from my hand. I am your master now."
Beside him, a masked man stood silently with a sheathed blade strapped to his waist.
Xavriel's lips curved into a chilling smile. "All but two that is. That prince and his bride."
The masked man inclined his head.
Xavriel's voice deepened and his face lost the amusement it once bore now soaked in menace. "Find the girl and bring her to me...alive."
The masked man bowed once, then dissolved into the shadows, vanishing as if he had never been there.
Xavriel chuckled softly after the man disappeared. His eyes turned towa
rd the direction Damien and Elena had vanished, and a chilling smile crept up his lips.
"Let the hunt begin."