Since the night Delyth returned from Homer's cage in the dungeons, Tiarnan has stood guard at her door every night. On some nights, Jothan takes over and guards it in his place. No matter how many times Tiarnan tells her, it's for his peace of mind, she still thinks he's over-reacting. Jothan had to encourage her that he understands where Tiarnan's mindset is.

"If I could predict Cybil's death, I would've stayed home with her that night, like I usually would. So, see it through his perspective. He's trying to protect the woman he loves." He lightly patted her cheek in a brotherly way.

Currently, certain things have become a concern to Delyth. She sought help and when she received news on what the problem was, she was in a frozen state at first but when she pondered on it more, it became the best news she had ever received in her life. That said, her wedding is in a week making the news even more perfect.

The sun is shining brighter, the birds chirp their songs in an even more melodious tune as she skips and hums her way through the halls to deliver the news to Tiarnan. Today is a beautiful day.

Suddenly she stops and her brows are drawn together when Jothan's grim expression darkens his features, causing her body to tense. The last time she saw that expression was when Tiarnan asked her of Jothan's whereabouts minutes before they found her on the gallows.

"What?"

He opens and closes his mouth a few times before he wraps an arm around her shoulder and turns her in the opposite direction. "Let's get something to eat first."

A strange feeling rushes in her head but she pushes it aside. While they are walking, she looks at the aloof expression on his face. "No. I can eat later. I have something important to tell Tiarnan."

Jothan takes a sharp breath and flexes his jaw. "I really believe you will want to eat first. Look, you're hungry, I'm hungry. Let's go."

She pushes his arm off her shoulder and stands in front of him, annoyed. "Why won't you let me see him? Why do you have that look on your face like something bad happened?"

"Delyth," Jothan starts barely above that whisper, his eyes falling to the floor. She knows that face too well to not understand what it means. She's seen that face too many times in her lifetime.

She shakes her head and licks her lips suddenly becomes dry. "Where is he?"

He takes careful strides toward her but she keeps backing away. "Delyth, just let me get you something to eat and then I'll take you to him, okay?"

Her head and hands shake more violently, her breathing getting harsher. "No!" She tries to side step him but he pulls her and holds her back to his chest in a stronghold. She continues to fight against him.

"No! Jothan, let me see him!" She shouts, a lump rising in her throat.

"I can't." He whispers in her ear and swallows hard.

"Please! Just let me see him! Why won't you–Why?" Everything becomes too much for her and she stops fighting and rests her head on his arm, tears streaming down.

"Quaeso. Please, let me see him. I'm begging you, Jothan." Unable seeing her in such a foreign emotional state, he loosens his grip on her.

"Okay. I'll take you to him." As soon as he releases her, she runs off to wherever her feet take her. Her eyes are moving around quicker than light, searching for whatever can give her answers to where Tiarnan is.

A loud gasp leaves her lips, upon finally getting the answer she's looking for, her heart sinks. The answer she discovers is not the one she anticipated. A handful of servants are on their knees cleaning the floor while guards and knights stand around laughing among themselves.

Tiarnan's body is chained to two pillars—both his hands and feet—a spectacle for people to admire with lashes and cut sword marks all over his body. Her eyes twitch when the guards see her staring at her fiance's body and laugh harder.

There are five stages of grief. Stage one: Denial.

She knew what Jothan's face was indicating but she couldn't bring herself to admit it to be true. He is fine. He is fine. He is fine. The three words she repeated in her head. Jothan helped her take his body down and lay him gently on the floor. She grabbed him in her arms and rocked him back and forth.

"You're okay, my love. Your golden dream is here. I'm right here and you're okay. You're okay. You fought long and hard and now you're resting. Tomorrow, you'll wake up in a bit of pain but I'll be right here and you'll be fine. We'll be okay," she rambles off, hot tears running down her cheeks and onto his face. She repeated herself in an attempt to convince herself that everything was okay. Anything was better than facing reality.She turns her back to the scene, closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She releases a heavy breath, plasters a small smile on her face and turns back around convinced that it is all a dream. A bad dream.

With the proof in her face that he is woefully not fine, brings her to stage two: Anger.

At 24, she should be able to have full control of her ability but sometimes, emotions can be too overwhelming. Powerful enough to blur the lines of morality.

A scream tears from her throat and unleashes Obitus in his true form–a dark cloud behind her. She unsheathes her sword that is always strapped to her waist and moves quickly towards them while they shout and run around frantically like frenzied dogs.

"It's Obitus!"

"Alert King Silas!" They scream, taking out their shields and weapons to protect themselves.

"Since you are so impressed by your artwork, I'll make a masterpiece of my own," Delyth threatens in a dark voice, her eyes hooded.

Jothan stands behind as he watches Delyth's quick movements. He's never seen Obitus in person and now that he has, it is more terrifying than he imagined yet calming knowing that he is not on the receiving end.

Suddenly, Zodak creeps up beside him, his face pale as though he has seen a ghost. "Dame Delyth was Obitus this whole time?"

Jothan hums in confirmation. "And you knew this?" Jothan hums yes again. "And you're not going to do anything to stop this?"

King Silas's best friend looks again with his eyebrows raised. "She is Obitus, there is nothing any of us can do. But no, I won't stop her. He had it coming." 

Zodak nods his head, knowing that Jothan was only loyal to Silas to a certain extent which includes his survival. If given the right opportunity, he would stab Silas in the back or moreso sic Obitus on him. The duo watched the beginning of King Silas Casteron's downfall.

She glides across the room like a cheetah hunting down its prey, slaughtering anyone in a close encounter. In a matter of seconds, it is over. Delyth stands in the center of the throne room, her face devoid of emotion, her sword in her hand by her side with blood dripping down the blade and to the tip of it.

Her eyes finally meet him and he flinches at how dissociated with herself she is, as well as how white her entire eyes are. Meanwhile Obitus slowly retreats inside her and her eyes go back to its natural color having finished its job. Delyth is so consumed by anger and agony that she forgets what she stands for.

At that moment, the only thing on her mind was 'An eye for an eye.'

A servant comes forward with a bucket of water and cloth in her hand to clean the mess and she points her sword at the poor woman. "Leave it until Silas Casteron sees what his decision caused."

The visibly shaking woman nods vigorously and scurries away, water splashing out of the bucket. She walks in the same direction she came from earlier and stops when she sees Jothan. He tilts his head, inspecting her for any injuries. There are none.

"Take him and send him back to his sister in Swuybia. Her name is Roisin Holian." She instructs in a toneless voice and makes her way to her room.

That night, Delyth reached her third stage: Bargain. She bawled her eyes out, staining her soft pillows even punching them, still not believing that Tiarnan is actually dead. They were supposed to get married in a week. Say their vows and profess their love for each other in front of friends and family. Instead all of it was taken away because a young, hot-headed King was too upset over anything and everything that included her. Upset that she survived Homer. Upset about lies that had nothing to do with him. Upset.

"I'll leave this all behind, if you bring him back." She pleads to the skies, feeling the tear in her heart open even wider.

"I'll kill Silas tonight, if you bring him back."

I'll do this, if you do that.

I'll do this, if you...

I'll...if...

I'll...if...

Please.

Earlier that day...

Tiarnan opened the door once more to see Delyth sleeping so peacefully, looking like the most beautiful angel he's ever seen. He can never understand how someone who has been thrown so many curveballs in life is still able to block out the noise and sleep pretending like nothing happened. It took great strength to do that; strength that even he doesn't have.

When he closed the door and straightened himself at her door, he came face to face with a fellow knight.

"King Silas summons you." Tiarnan gave a curt nod and followed him.

His eyes glanced around in confusion. "He wants me in the Throne Room?"

He got no response but a kick in the back of his knees sending him to the floor. He was kicked in the back then on both sides. He groaned in pain and tried to stand back on but chains were clasped on his wrists and his ankles.

Black shoes stop in front of his eyes. He slowly looks up, panting heavily to meet the eyes of Silas Casteron himself. He winks at Tiarnan, taunting him.

He stoops to look directly into his eyes with a sardonic smirk playing on the corner of his lips. "Well, don't you look gorgeous on your knees."

With that being said, he is pulled by the chains and tied to the pillars. How he got himself in this situation is the question he asked himself. He knew he shouldn't have trusted Silas when he promised her that he wouldn't bother him. It seems those words meant nothing when he felt Delyth betrayed him.

He glared down at the sociopathic King, sweat dripping down his forehead.

"You have become a constant problem for me, Former Captain Tiarnan Holian." He declared in a strong and loud voice. "Initially, you were a thorn in my foot preventing me from making Lady Aiken my Queen. Now, you are an itch that I can't scratch. Since Delyth now hates me, you have no reason to be protected by me. Your expiration date is today."

Tiarnan gritted his teeth and pulled against the chains, not caring whether it chafed his wrists. "She is going to make you rue this day."

"Oh, and I'll be waiting for her to do her worst." One by one, each knight and sword slashed him with their swords, ignoring his howling from the pain while he bled out on the floor. Three guards took their turns whipping him in the back. Tiarnan didn't get a chance to breathe before he was whipped and slashed once more while Silas Casteron stood by and grinned like he's watching the most entertaining act at a festival.

His eyes lifted to the ceiling when he felt his breath laboring. "My golden dream." He whispered, taking his last breath.

1/08/22

Au revoir...

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