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What the fuck? "How? You were burnt to death, and yet, there is no fire around you."
"I..." he pauses, "I don't know. One minute, I was running, and the next, fire filled my lungs, radiating outwards. For a moment I wondered if that was what dragons felt like. The heat in my chest wholly consumed me as I fought to keep it inside. But it burned through me, taking me and my... my wife. Oh my god. My wife, where is she?"
Up until now, I hadn't thought much about the other corpse, only knowing that the formless figure wouldn't be able to speak to me the way this one could. I should spare him from seeing her this way.
Silently, I let her soul drift, letting her find the peace she's silently crying out for, knowing her husband will be swiftly behind her, off to the next life together.
My instinct is to tell him how sorry I am and that I wish things were different. And I do.
But they're not.
This is the world we've been forced to live in. And the less he knows, the better. I don't even allow him to turn his head around to find her, keeping his eye locked on the cavernous sockets in my helm. He'll have more peace if he doesn't know what he's done to her.
How could this happen? Someone with the ability to start a fire inside someone's lungs?
I peer around us, looking for somewhere that this mystery attacker could be hiding, and yet nothing.
No trees, no mountains, not even a bush for nearly a mile in any direction. Only this empty road that leads from the town to the capital. There are no hoof prints, save for Drakken's.
"What happened before you ran?"
His eye goes even more vacant, trapped in his memories that his soul would certainly rather not relive. "We were tending to our sheep just before the sun rose, as we do every morning. We heard the commotion, the pounding of hooves, and then the screams. Horrible screams and the roar of flames nearly drowned them out. Our home was on the edge of town. We own no weapons and no way to fight. So as our sheep caught fire, we fled."
I silently urge him to continue, to give me something. Anything. Any way to determine what manner of weapon we're facing from the Rhymans.
"We heard laughter, laughter that sounded like a song. My wife wanted to run to it, but I knew what that meant."
"No, that's impossible. Syren's cannot survive on land." I'm arguing with a corpse that cannot lie or deceive. Yet what he's claiming can't be true.
"I heard it, Your Majesty. And I grabbed my wife and ran."
"Is there anything else you remember? Anything at all?"
He blinks slowly. "No, Sire."
Fuck.
Gritting my teeth, I release his soul, let it flee from its mortal form onto the next world, whatever it may be.
As his lifeless husk hits the ground beneath him, I return my gaze to the world around us. It's utterly silent, completely devoid of life. Not even the vultures dare to venture here, looking for scraps.
Something is very wrong.
As I walk towards the smoke in the distance, Drakken whinnies from her place beside me. A distressed, frantic sound. She has no desire to get any closer to the burnt village either.
Death and destruction are nothing new to me and my Drakken, but usually, we are the ones administering them. Being on this side of it is unsettling.
Their attacks grow bold, an insult against me and my nation, while they send in a beautiful distraction. As if a gorgeous face and presumably stunning body will persuade me to show mercy.
My mind wanders back to her and the rage that simmers beneath her skin. I can only imagine her country didn't take notice of it; otherwise, they would have chosen another in her place. Tightly controlled fury like hers can only be recognized by those who also carry it.
Most in Rhyma would see it as nerves, maybe. The timid softness of a powerless woman in a world of powerful beings. They've never needed to fight to survive like we have. Never had to become monsters to live. They don't sense when one is in their midst.
But I do.
I toy with the idea of killing her. Again. If only to sate the bloodlust rising inside me at the carnage her people have perpetrated against mine. Again. But if I do, they'll have more reason to retaliate. Again.
And it might be far more effective to create an ally of sorts in her. She can't be trusted, but perhaps she can be manipulated into thinking she's trusted.
