Crushed to the point of no return

After a couple of days of almost nonstop fleeing, we stop for another brief break to let Nadia rest.

«How much longer do we have to travel?» Laila asks tiredly, yawning as she scratches her rear.

«I don’t know… maybe until we meet up with Dakarai.» I reply, filling the canteen in a river.

«And how do you plan to find him in a kingdom this vast and constantly expanding?»

«I… I don’t know, but he told me…»

«He told you he knew how to take care of himself, right?»

«…Yes,» I answer, dejectedly, watching my pathetic reflection on the crimson, crystal-clear water. I feel Nadia’s small hand gently rest on my shoulder.

«Then we do the same. We can’t just sit here waiting for the solution to fall into our laps.»

The wind begins to pick up, and clouds cover the sky above. «Laila, was that you?»

Nadia stands, looking up at the sky. I notice her hand stiffen and tremble.

«To do what?» she ask, lying back against a tree.

«To change the weather.»

«Of course not. Wake up—if there’s water, there’s rain, right?» she says, gesturing irritably. «You don’t have to blame me for everything.»

«There hasn’t been a single cloud in the sky since we arrived here.» I turn to Nadia and grab her shoulders. «Nadia, was that you?» She doesn’t respond; her lips press into a thin, trembling line. «Can you make an animal? Anything!» But it’s useless—she seems paralyzed. As soon as I release her shoulders, she collapses to her knees. “Did the knight and that rabbit find us? Shit!”

«Laila, please, do something!» I shout, turning to her, finding her standing and staring at the sky as well.

«I… can’t do anything.»

«What?» Resigned to our helplessness, I start staring at the sky too.

Above us, the eye of a cyclone forms, descending toward us. The wind pulls all three of us in. A blue light hits us. I see nothing. Pain shoots through my entire body, as if countless clawed hands are trying to drag me toward them, constantly losing their grip.

When the light finally recedes, I stagger as if still falling. My feet touch something smooth, cold… glassy. I look down: the floor beneath me is a stretch of black ice, shiny like obsidian, reflecting me like a mirror. I lift my head and almost lose my breath. A magnificent, vast hall surrounds us: gothic arches and columns rise to the ceiling. Every surface, every wall, is carved from the same dark ice.

Chandeliers scattered throughout the hall make silver decorations and turquoise drapes sparkle like an underwater tableau.

A true masterpiece of Gothic art… if it weren’t for the fact that the entire structure seems to scream, ‘you’re dead’.

«You…» whispers Laila.

“She looks shocked. What did she see?” I follow her gaze, only to notice, at the feet of the enormous throne—carved like a cathedral, adorned with spires and flying buttresses—a strange little emaciated, bald man with dark blue skin, a spiked collar around his head.

He looks at us with tears in his eyes, saying, «I’m sorry.» in a trembling voice. Immediately after, the chains binding his neck, wrists, and ankles pull him into a ring. He hangs suspended for a moment, glowing with the same blue light that brought us here. Only when the light fades do I realize the ring is on the finger of a hand.

I follow the line of those armored fingers, up the arm, the armor glinting with blue and silver reflections, polished like a mirror. My heart drops into my stomach as I lift my gaze high enough to see the face. Seated on the throne, motionless like a statue carved from the same ice surrounding him, is a man, just under forty. Dark, disheveled hair falls in greasy strands across his forehead, and his skin is sickly pale.

«Now, to get to the formalities,» a man in black plate armor covered by a long, skull-adorned cloak breaks the silence. «You are in the presence of King Goran. Bow.» The pressure in the room suddenly increases, forcing me to my knees like Nadia and Laila. «Very well. I am Radomir, while the two behind you are Vuk and Stoyan.»

“Stoyan?!” I spin around, only to find a massive sword at my throat.

«Don’t make any sudden movements, boy.» the mountain of a man commands, shifting the greatsword. He rests it on his shoulder, and the wind from that single movement makes his tattered red cloak flutter.

«Vuk, I would also ask you to lower your weapons.» Radomir says.

Partially toward me, a hooded knight rises, his cape worn and armor in pieces. When did he get that close? As he moves his arm away, I notice a dagger in his hand. I glance at my chest—there’s a hole in the middle. A bead of sweat runs down my temple.

I look at Nadia and Laila. “Why aren’t they moving? I can’t be the only one reacting—please, do something!”

«Enough talking.» a cold wind pushes me. I barely turn to see the king slowly rising. I slip and am thrown against Stoyan. I look up at him, but he doesn’t change… I think. It’s hard to tell where anyone is looking; they wear skull-shaped helmets hiding their faces.

«I brought you here because you killed a smert jesera. Normally, I would punish you with death. However, you did me a favor,» he extends his palm, «returning my daughter to me.»

Slowly, Laila and I look at Nadia. “She… is his daughter? What does this mean?! It’s impossible! This would mean she’s… 300 years old?!”

«Come here, with me.» Nadia, trembling, lowers her head, trying to hide behind her bangs. «Welcome home,» he says, resting a hand on her shoulder.

«From what I’ve seen in the loutky report, you, boy, possess a Haab-shu. I would ask you to give it immediately to the king.» Radomir says.

«I-I… I can’t.»

«Do you dare disobey me?» King Goran asks, making my insides tremble.

«N-no!» I exclaim, raising my hands. «It’s that, because of my contract with her, I cannot remove it before the contract ends or before my death.»

«Then die.» A clang, and Stoyan’s greatsword blocks my view. “When did it appear?” «Explain.» demands Goran.

Immediately, the general moves the colossal sword aside, revealing Vuk stepping back. Stoyan bows noisily, his enormous horns pushing me slightly forward. «I apologize, my lord. I did not mean disrespect, but I find it dishonorable to take a life without giving the chance to fight for it.»

The king does not seem pleased with the general’s words—I fear this is the end. Radomir steps forward, bowing slightly with one hand behind his back. «My lord, I do not believe there is malice in Stoyan’s words. How about we let the boy fight him? It has been a long time since you participated in a battle; a spectacle may only distract you from your long boredom.»

«Very well.» he consents, sitting back on the throne.

Stoyan rises. «Take your stance, boy. I promise it will be painless.» “Eh? These people are absurdly strong! How do they expect me to… oh right, they want me dead.”

I step back a few paces and draw my sword and dagger. “Aaahh, what a miserable life this has been. The only good moments I can count are the first days with Laila and these past days with Nadia…”

«Before you start,» Radomir interrupts my surrender to life rudely, «I think it’s only proper to invite the queen to enjoy the show as well.» “Ah, great, more spectators.”

«Mh!» “Why did Nadia flinch? She seems even more unsettled than before… N-no, wait, don’t look at me with those desperate, tear-filled eyes, please—I might cry too.”

From a side door near the throne, a woman enters with glassy eyes, dressed in a deep black gown. The fitted bodice, adorned with silver floral embroidery, accentuates her slender, graceful figure. Long, flowing sleeves end in fine points that brush the floor with each step.

The corset emphasizes her regal posture, while a slight heart-shaped neckline adds a touch of delicacy to her imposing presence. A thin black tulle veil covers her brown hair, streaked with white, gathered in a low bun at the back, with some strands loose to frame her emaciated face. The veil is held by a delicate diadem.

She stops next to the king, on the side opposite Nadia. The girl watches the woman, tears streaming silently. As soon as she takes a step back, Goran glances at her from the corner of his eye. Immediately, the girl stops crying.

“Please, don’t do that.” A sharp pang hits me from inside, accompanied by a reflux.

The little girl returns to her place, her bangs covering her eyes. Goran looks toward me.
«Well. Start.»

I turn toward Stoyan, as soon as I take a defensive stance, he raises his colossal sword above his head and shouts, «Obdormis sine dolore!»