Eternal Wynter

Eternal Wynter Chapter 7

Wynter snapped out of her thoughts when a deep rumbling noise echoed through the room. Her emotionless mask slipped back into place, leaving no trace of her earlier worry. The bookcases around her rattled violently, causing some of the books to spill out of their elegant resting places. The rumbling stopped abruptly, as if it had been cut off by magic. The aftershock of the rumbling was a deep, hollow noise that sounded like a thousand tortured souls. Wynter rose to her feet and gathered the fallen books in her arms. She dumped them onto the couch and drew the Crystal arrow head. She strolled over to the section of the room filled with curious objects and placed it on one of the low shelves.

As she turned away from it, her eyes lingered on the arrow for a moment longer. Then she shoved the thoughts that filled her mind into a chest and locked it, just like she had done so many times before with memories. Her feet led her to the bare part of the room and a fissure opened in the rock, compliments of a long forgotten acquaintance. A pitch black tunnel curled deeper into the earth, darker than the one that led to the magnificent room she left behind. It had been many years since this tunnel had been used, but only one thing could possibly have stirred the earth enough to cause the rumbling.

Wynter strolled through the dark tunnel like she was having a picnic in the Winter Woods. The acidic smell of smoke and sweat curled up her nostrils and burned its path down to her lungs. When she exhaled, white smoke billowed from her mouth, spilling out like a steamy waterfall. The poisonous air had no effect on the Queen, on the contrary. As the acidic smoke grew thicker and blacker, shouts and swears filled the air. The sound of heavy shackles being dragged across a gruff floor danced around the air like a skeleton's dance of death. A red glow replaced the blackness of the tunnel, opening up to a pocket that reeked of death. As Wynter stepped into the chamber and broke through the magic separating the tunnel from the chamber , a feeling of cold travelled down her spine. She took in the scene before her with mild interest. Jagged pieced of clear Crystal broke through the surface of the walls, jutting out to face the centre of the room.

Men, dressed in tight black clothing, were shouting and fists flew in all directions, hitting random targets. They crowded in front of a sealed door, banging, slashing and flinging powers in a useless attempt to escape. Broken iron shackles lay in a heap on the floor, next to the unconscious body of one of the Royal Guards. Wynter kneeled beside him and felt for a pulse. His heart beat slow, but steady. She straightened herself and braced herself to take on the fifty or so men.

She had arrived in the deepest parts of the mine.

"What do you think you are doing?" Wynter's voice carried through the chamber and cut through the smoke like a gust of icy wind. The shouts, swearing and fighting died down instantly as the men turned to face Wynter. Their eyes all held the same look of hatred, insanity and fear. Although their iron bonds were broken, the chains of ice around their arms and legs still held fast. All except one, of course. Silas Bane had not been in the mines long enough to experience the full horror of what the empty chasms, tunnels and shafts held. His experience of horror had not yet begun.

"I asked, what do you think you are doing?" Wynter's voice was crisp and cold, stabbing the hearts of the men directly. They flinched at her words and practically fell over each other to avoid her gaze. Wynter closed the distance between her and the men in only a few strides, causing the first row of men to fall to their knees and hide their faces in their hands. The rest of the men followed suit and fell to their knees as well, even Silas. None of them mad eye contact with the queen and none of them even dared to move other than to draw a breath.

The room's temperature had slowly been plummeting, but now it felt as cold as the water in a frozen lake. The men shivered and huddled closer to each other. Those in the mines were the only ones who were not protected against the cold of the Crystal Court. Wynter was a merciful queen, but to those who committed crimes worthy of a death sentence she was the woman the stories spoke about. In the Court, a life was traded for a life. These men had not committed their crimes in the Court, so she used them for the chore nobody else wanted. Mining precious gems and magic infused crystals.