Fractured Worlds (Worlds Away #1)

Edoline Chapter 23: Fallen

I pushed the tapestry aside, observing the hallway. No one, eternals or guards, was present.

"Clear," I said.

Zyair and Adrianna moved past me, blades drawn. I jumped out of the hidden door, arranging the tapestry back into place. With that, we moved.

The hallways of the palace were empty. There were no eternals or half-eternals, let alone any guards or servants bustling around. There were no bodies either, another unsettling fact. Everything felt wrong.

We moved to the wall, and Zyair swiftly opened the servant's passageway. The three of us filed in, ready for anything.

Zyair led us, knowing these passages as well as those who used them. He guided us through twists and turns, slowly but surely leading us closer to the throne room.

A soft thud sounded above us, freezing us in our steps. A blood curdling scream of anguish sounded next, sending chills down my spine. Zyair picked up his pace. We needed to get to Socorro and Donovan. Now.

The passages were dusty, and the boards creaked underfoot, making our approach far from stealthy. When we made it to the exit, our approach remained unnoticed. No one had heard us.

Easing the door open, Zyair looked around the hallway. He stepped out, sword at the ready. With a nod from him, Adrianna and I exited the passageway, the half-eternal leaving the door slightly ajar.

On the floor were the bodies that had been missing. A small army of royal guards and servants filled the hallways in all directions. They had tried to protect Lord Ursett, baring him inside the throne room, judging by the higher number of bodies closer to the doors. It had been an effort in vain, they could not stop the eternals. You could not kill the unkillable.

A scream filled the air: Socorro's. I moved over the bodies lightning quick, blasting the doors open with a burst of telepathy. The doors slammed against the walls with a bang, revealing the bloody sight.

"DONOVAN!" Socorro's scream shattered my heart, along with the sickening thump. Donovan's limp body crumpled to the floor, and behind it stood Zerbelgrim.

He had a smug look on his face, and with lazy eyes, he looked over to our group. Behind him was the body of Lord Ursett, his sword a few feet away from him. Blood covered the floor, a pool underneath father and son. A third pile was near Socorro, and at the sight of his arm, my teeth clenched in anger. I felt Zyair stiffen beside me, taking in the surroundings just as quickly as I.

"Zyair," Zerbelgrim greeted. He flicked his sword, scattering the blood that collected on it. "It has been too long."

"You will pay for this," Zyair gritted.

Zerbelgrim just grinned. Two eternals stepped out of the shadows, their swords drawn.

"Enough talking with the enemy," Another voice growled, the deep voice smooth and rich authority. My blood ran cold as a third figure emerged.

Grimtaladar was not an eternal who could be mistaken for someone else. He was the very embodiment of power, a warrior bred and trained for the only purpose of conducting death. He did not fear anything or one and seemed to thrive off of violence.

Grimtaladar was one of the oldest known eternals and had maintained his leadership through fear and absolutes. He towered over Zerbelgrim with his toned body, eyes calculating as he observed who stood before him. No sword was in his hand, nor on him.

His dark eyes met mine and recognition flaring up in his gaze. I had only seen Grimtaladar once in all of my lives, but I would never forget him. I could never forget the cold look on his face, the atmosphere of power hovering around him. His menacing demeanour was enough to scar even the most experienced of warriors.