Dusk of the Realm

27

The city erupted into a panic once the heads started appearing.

One per day, showing up in a different Fae's home in Azure each time. Of course, the first one appeared in the throne room of the castle. Triana had immediately issued an alarm, and Tarin had come running.

Running to see Iliss' decapitated head upon Serena's throne.

Iliss had warned him of the Infernals' plan. One Fae hostage killed per day, starting with her. And he had failed to find them. He had been so busy searching for Serena at the traitor Ambrose's behest that he had lost interest in finding the hostages, though he did remember that their trail had dissolved into nothing once he broke into that clearing. He was not sure he would have found them even if he had stayed for longer.

He grieved Iliss' murder in the way only he could: by fighting. Each man he brought down provided another small outlet for his rage; so, as long as he kept going, he could distract himself from his internal fury for a time. However, once families of the hostages began to show up at the castle each day, crying over finding the head of their loved one on their beds, in their stove pots, lying on their lawns, he realized that just fighting his fellow warriors was not going to be enough. The Infernals thought that they were winning this war, that they were on top of the game. They had no idea what they were going to unleash.

He had never particularly liked Iliss. He knew that most people around the castle had flat-out hated her. She had been haughty, high-maintenance, arrogant, and boring. She looked down her nose at anyone who did anything she was not fond of; maids who cleaned her room, women who went out to fight, men who did not adore her. She had annoyed Tarin to no end with her infatuation. She had always just seemed to expect that he would want her, seeing as she saw herself as being of such a higher status than him.

However, for all her outward superiority, he knew that Iliss was much more fragile inside than what she tried to show the world. It was an act. She looked down on those who fought because she did not know how to. She looked down on maids because at least they knew what their place was - at least they were accepted in the castle. She wanted men to adore her because that was all the attention she could receive, and nobody can live without some sort of attention from others. She had been weak, but still, she had mustered up the courage to save his life when Alcern snuck in to attack him. She had even risked leaving the castle keep to help him bring the others back to safety, and came back for him later, though she failed in finding him.

It was his fault that she was dead now. His fault, just as it was his fault that Serena was not speaking to anybody.

He had tried so many times to get her talking, but all he got were those blank stares, as if she did not even recognize him, or did not understand his words. He had tried once to reach for her, but quickly learned not to try so again. She had flinched so hard that he drew back his hand urgently, thinking that perhaps he had hurt her, though he had not yet touched her skin. When he tried asking what was wrong again, she simply shut the door on him. He did not think she did it out of spite or anger; she had not even seemed aware that she was doing it, as if sleepwalking.

He headed up to her room again now. Though he had had no success in communicating with her in the four days since Ambrose's attack, that was not enough to get him to stop trying. As long as the suns rose and set in the sky, he would persevere. He would not lose her. Not again.

He knocked, but there was no answer. That was typical now.

He waited, knowing that the door would soon open anyway, though Serena would not be the one with her hand on the knob. And, as usual, he was admitted by Stacia, the princess' lady's maid, and one of Cade's many little siblings. Seeing her made Tarin think of Cade, though Stacia did not look all that much like him, and certainly did not seem to resemble him in personality, from what Tarin could tell. Tarin had refused to show Cade any gratitude for saving the princess the other day; it was not that he was ungrateful, it was just the thought of making that brat even more pleased with himself than he already was that was repulsive to him. Besides, Triana had already thanked him enough for the both of them.