When Seamus opened his eyes, he was almost blinded by the light. He groaned and let out a few foul words, and a nearby voice tutted. His eyes flew open again, and he had to blink furiously a few times to get his eyes to adjust. Looking around, he recognized his surroundings immediately - his surroundings were a light blue, a symptom of the crystal walls and healing pixie globes. He was in a slender bed that floated gently a meter or so above the shining floors.
On the cabinet next to him, a familiar pair of luminous eyes greeted him solemnly.
"Bono?" Seamus croaked aloud in confusion. The sugar glider squeaked at him in greeting.
"He hasn't left your side since you got here."
Seamus looked at the closest pixie globe. The small glass ball floated closer to him, and he saw that the tiny figure inside was looking at him warily.
Seamus shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry... What am I doing here? What happened?"
"I don't have the faintest idea what happened, but you got here a week or so ago covered in burns." The pixie crossed her arms and turned her delicate nose up at him. "You had a mighty fine bump on your head too, so I can see how you don't remember anything."
Seamus grimaced and ran his hands through the strip of hair on his head. Someone had washed it and combed out all the product, so his hair lay in a silky ribbon over his skull. He was no good at speaking with strangers, and he avoided healing posts at all costs, but somehow he'd ended up here. What had happened? The last thing he remembered was a field of crops that seemed to go on forever, and watching as a golden figure rose up into the sky...
His eyes widened, and he leaned forward so abruptly that the pixie squeaked in surprise. "Was anyone else with me? A solstae man, perhaps?"
The pixie looked even more annoyed. "Oh, you mean the man that brought you here? He's not here anymore. He looked like he was right about to collapse when he hauled you in. Took off into the sky without a word, and he hasn't been back since - hey!"
Seamus was climbing out of the bed awkwardly, already wiping off the crystal beads that coated parts of his skin. He scowled at the burn marks on his torso and legs - they'd healed considerably, but still stung.
"You're not ready to leave yet!" The pixie exclaimed indignantly, her globe darting forward anxiously.
"Says who." Seamus grumbled, staggering to his feet. He winced at the throbbing on the back of his head, but ignored it. He spun around until he saw his clothes, neatly folded on another counter, and strode over.
"Your burns will get infected if you don't treat them properly." The pixie was still going on. Around him, a few of the other globes were beginning to shimmer yellow and green, anxious colours.
Seamus resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he pulled his clothes on roughly. He really didn't like pixies; they were more nagging than his damn mum, which was saying something.
"I'm sure I'll be fine." He said gruffly to the pixie following him, avoiding her gaze. His eyes landed on Bono, who was watching with an expression that almost looked amused. Seamus grimaced at him before grabbing him and stuffing him unceremoniously into his shirt.
As he strode to the door, the pixies behind him began to cry out in protest. Sighing, Seamus spun around and bowed as low as he could.
"Thank you all for taking such fine care of me." He said tonelessly. "I will forever be in your debt."
The protests lowered into a lull as they were mollified, and Seamus took his chance to escape. Spinning on his heel, he practically ran from the room into the hall, narrowly missing knocking a few pixie globes out of orbit. Seamus blinked, looking around quickly to see that the hall curved into a circle, and that a spiraling staircase descended in the middle of the tower in front of him. Dozens of pixie globes had stopped to stare at him, and across the balcony from him, an elderly dwarf had paused in the act of walking into his treatment room to look at him with watery blue eyes.
Seamus peered down to see that the staircase descended several floors, and that a cloud of globes were currently making their way up the staircase in lazy orbitals. Seamus cursed under his breath; he had to make sure Di was alright, and he'd already wasted so much time lying around here. As he climbed onto the railing, ignoring the alarmed cries of pixies floating around him, a small squeak came from inside his collar.
He looked down to see Bono looking up at him. He looked resigned, as if he knew what the werewolf was about to do, and knew he could do nothing to stop it.
"Hey now." Seamus patted Bono's head awkwardly. He was absolute rubbish when it came to animals, ironically. "You're probably used to this, aren't you? Ryker's an absolute madman."
Bono squeaked in agreement, but Seamus had already tipped over into the open air.
Seamus grit his teeth as he sailed down past the staircase, the air rushing up tearing at his clothes and flowing through his hair. Startled cries followed him all the way down, and when he crashed into the floor a few screams of terror rent the air as well. He groaned and rolled onto his back, twisting different ways to pop his bones back into place.
"Are you mad?" Someone demanded.
"Just a little." Seamus muttered in response, stretching his neck as he staggered to his feet. The main lobby of the healing post was busier than his floor had been; assorted magical entities stared at him in shock as he limped over to the main desk. The girl behind the counter could have been an elf or a shifter, but Seamus didn't care to look close enough.
Digging in his pocket, he pulled out a few crumpled notes and a handful of coins. "Keep the change." He gasped gruffly, wincing as he turned and walked out the door.
Amazed stares followed him into the bright and colourful street; Seamus groaned at the realization that he was in Feloix Felaii. That damned Dionysus - of course he would bring him here of all places. Seamus grumbled darkly to himself as he took off down the street, oblivious to the wary stares and wide berth people gave him as they hurried past.
Bono squeaked again, and Seamus looked down again to see that the sugar glider was looking at him worriedly.
"I'll be fine." He told him. "I've had worst falls, anyhow."
He limped on, glaring at all the gaudy people walking by and all the ridiculous peddling stalls in the street. He really did hate Feloix Felaii. A mongool gave him a surly look as he passed, and Seamus resisted the urge to bare his teeth. "Wankers, the lot of them." He muttered to himself.
Finally, he caught a glimpse of a faintly glowing figure just ahead of him. At the sight of the solstae woman, Seamus limped on faster; reaching her in a few seconds. When he grabbed her shoulder, she turned to look at him in surprise.
"Can I help you?" She asked politely, apparently unperturbed by Seamus' ruffled appearance. She was a beautiful specimen, with golden, glowing hair that grew past her waist and a slender figure that reminded Seamus of a graceful willow. Her eyes were large and dark and luminous as they looked at him questioningly.
Seamus inhaled with some trouble; his bones were correcting themselves slower than usual. "Are - are you going up anytime soon?" He pointed up at the sky weakly.
She followed his gaze. "Not right away." She said slowly. "Perhaps in a few hours or so. Do you need to pass a message? There's a solstae messenger post just a few blocks away - "
"I can't wait." Seamus wheezed, leaning a hand on his knee to prop himself up. "Can I trouble you, ma'am? I need to make sure that somebody is okay, it's of utmost importance - "
"Seamus?"
Both he and the solstae woman looked up at the new voice. A few feet away, to Seamus' utter shock, was Dionysus. The solstae man drifted closer, looking between Seamus and the woman in confusion. Seamus couldn't believe his eyes; his lover looked better than he'd ever seen him - he was in solstae fine clothes, and his skin glowed with renewed light that was a contrast to his dimmed appearance just a few days ago.
When Dionysus reached him, he laughed in amusement. "What's this? I leave you for a week, and you find a stunning replacement for me?"
Seamus was baffled. "I don't know her, I just wanted to find out - "
"Are you by any chance Dionysus Hyperion?" The solstae woman was staring at Dionysus curiously. Her dark eyes shimmered with some kind of emotion Seamus couldn't identify. "The Dionysus Hyperion?"
Dionysus looked taken aback. He smiled charmingly, running a hand through his head of curls. "Why, I had no idea such beautiful women know me so well. Have we met before?"
Seamus gaped as the solstae woman slapped Dionysus across the face. Her lip was curled in contempt as she turned her nose up at his lover.
"You're infamous back home." She spat at him. "That was for all the people you cheated out of their money!"
Seamus and Dionysus were speechless as she promptly turned on her heel and stalked away, her golden hair bouncing as she went.
Dionysus looked over at Seamus, a hand rubbing his cheek where she slapped him absently. "Now that, my love, is why I've sworn off women."
Seamus threw his arms around Dionysus, pulling him close. A few people clucked in disapproval as they walked around them, but Seamus didn't care. "You're alright." He breathed in relief.
Dionysus chuckled and firmly pulled away, touching Seamus' waist gently. "Of course I am." He smiled at him affectionately. "I'm harder to kill than a cockroach. But how about you?" He held him away, looking him up and down. "You look awful, love. The pixies said you'd be alright in a few days or so, what are you doing out? I was just on my way to see you."
"I had to make sure you were okay." Seamus explained. "The last time I saw you, you were on the brink of collapse." He paused. "What happened exactly? That elf and Roan and the little girl - "
Dionysus' face fell, and Seamus searched his face in confusion. "Is... is everything alright? Why are you in fine clothes?"
The solstae looked away, his face closed off. His dark blue eyes looked sad. "The girl..." He hesitated. "She didn't make it." He said softly.
Seamus stared at him. He thought of Roan, and all the secret glances and smiles he'd sent Emery's way when he thought no one was looking. Bono was trembling in his shirt, but Seamus barely noticed.
"Roan?" He asked roughly, clearing his throat.
Dionysus looked back at him and smiled sadly. "Alive." He said shortly. "But grieving, of course. I was heading over to join him at the Council Chambers after I saw you."
Seamus frowned. "Why? That's the last place info dealers should be."
Dionysus chuckled lightly. "I owe the boy." He told Seamus, reaching out to touch his face. "And he needs as many witnesses as possible. You should come with me, since you're lumbering around already."
He began to lead him away, but Seamus ground his heel into the street, forcing them to stop. His eyes bored into Dionysus' fiercely. "Explain." He demanded in a low voice.
Dionysus shook his head at him, but the small smile remained. "No need to be so tense, love." But his face darkened. "Roan caught Greyfire. He's being tried today in the council chambers, and Roan is determined to get him locked up for life."
--------------------------------------
In the back room of a seedy little pub named The Three Witches, a hulking mongool and a petite elf sat behind a rickety wooden desk.
Eisla was in a foul mood. The two of them had been sitting in the pub for about three hours now, turning away prospective new trackers again and again. The room was dimly lit and smelled faintly of spilled ale and someone's vomit, and the longer she sat in it the shorter her temper became. Guo, as usual, was as tranquil as always - he sat peacefully, with his back as straight as a rod and a small smile on his reptilian face. He'd been fitted with a mechanical prosthetic that could be customized according to his preference - right now, a metallic hand lay calmly on the dirty tabletop as he patiently crossed off another name.
"The next candidate is a dwarf." Guo told Eisla in a soft voice, leafing through the papers in front of him. "He used to do security at the Communications Building."
Eisla groaned. "Not another security guard."
Guo smiled complacently. "He might not be like the rest."
"You mean, he won't be another bastard looking to be a hero?" Eisla scowled, raising an eyebrow at her partner. "He was bored with his job, and with what happened at Commerce and the Council Chambers, he's all inspired to do good work."
"There's nothing wrong with that." Guo blinked down at her.
"There is if he wants to be a tracker." Eisla shot back. "You know as well as I do that our job doesn't always do good work. Nine times out of ten, we kill the people we find."
Guo smiled wanly, thinking of the time they'd tracked a girl down for a client and she turned out to be the star of the client's sick fantasies. "But we do good to the best of our abilities."
Eisla sighed and said nothing. Guo was thinking of how'd they'd pounded their stalker client into a pulp, but Eisla was thinking of someone else - a girl with dark blue eyes and a mysterious ring on her finger. They did good, but often times it wasn't enough.
Eisla cleared her throat, shaking the vision away. "Next."
There was a shuffling behind the door, and then it opened to reveal a dwarf. Like all dwarves, he was short and stout in stature, but he looked even smaller due to his lack of hair. Both his head and face were clean shaven, making him look younger than Eisla expected and making his nose looking even bigger than it was.
"Good day." He had big brown eyes that darted around nervously. "My name's Trufgle, of Northern Scottland."
"Hello, Trufgle." Guo said when Eisla simply leaned back and scrutinized him. "What makes you think you can be part of our team."
"Well." Trufgle cleared his throat. "I used to work in Communications, as you read in my papers."
Guo nodded encouragingly. "Yes."
"Well, I saw what happened over at Commerce." He began to explain eagerly. "And I thinks to meself - what am I doing with my life? These folks at Communications are good, strong blokes, they don't need me protecting them. The people who need protecting are out in the world, not hunched up indoors - "
There was a clatter as Eisla's chair fell over. She'd stood up abruptly, her face annoyed and her lip curled. Trufgle flinched at the look on her face, taking a step backwards.
"Get out."
"Eisla - " Guo started saying.
"But - " Trufgle whined.
"Out!" Eisla thundered, her voice reverberating around the room. Trufgle was gone in the next instant, his lumbering steps thudding down the hall. The next few prospects glanced in nervously after the dwarf's retreat.
Eisla scowled and straightened her chair, sitting down in it roughly again. Guo watched her silently, aware that the prospects were still watching.
He leaned forward slightly, his voice low. "Eisla, what is this really about?"
She crossed her arms, refusing to look at him. "'I don't know what you're talking about." She said tersely.
Guo sighed quietly and readjusted his chair so that he was facing her. A giant, scaly hand thudded onto her delicate shoulder, and Eisla looked up at him reluctantly. His yellow eyes were gentle and concerned as he looked down at her.
"What happened to Emery is not your fault." Guo told her softly and slowly. "There's no way you, or anyone else, could have known what was going to happen. Don't blame yourself for the workings of that madman's mind."
Eisla closed her eyes tightly, hating how her lip trembled. "I... I just wish..."
"I know." Guo patted her shoulder comfortably. "I know, Eisla."
There were a few moments of silence as Guo comforted her, and Eisla reveled in it.
A short knock on the door and someone clearing their throat made her eyes fly open.
"I think I'm next, whenever you two are ready." A familiar pair of brown eyes appraised Eisla questioningly.
"You!" Eisla exclaimed indignantly, her eyes widening at the sight of the former guard. Guo looked between them questioningly.
Riedrus strolled casually into the room, grinning dryly at the shocked elf as he closed the door behind him. "I thought you'd be happier to see me." He looked starkly different from the last time Eisla had seen him - he'd discarded his silvery guard armour, and was now donned in a pair of jeans, a woolly sweater and a heavy maroon cloak. The colour suited his dark skin and eyes very nicely, Eisla thought to herself.
Guo was flipping patiently through the papers in front of him. "Markus?" He asked dubiously.
Riedrus smiled, and Eisla scowled at him. "He's not a prospect." She told Guo. "He's just torturing me."
"Torturing?" Guo rumbled, his eyes flashing as he looked up at the faerie. The tension in the room suddenly went up several notches as Guo looked Riedrus up and down.
"Not literally." Eisla said hastily, catching the look.
Riedrus held his hands up complacently. "I'm the guard that let her go." He told Guo.
As soon as Guo relaxed, so did everyone else.
"What are you doing here?" Eisla demanded, eyeing the faerie distrustfully. She hated being in debt, and since he'd set her free instead of bringing her in, the amount she owed the faerie was astronomical.
"Well, as much as I would love to be a tracker," Riedrus said, maneuvering his wings around the small chair he was trying to sit in, "I just came to see if you were going to the trial."
Guo blinked slowly. "Greyfire's trial?"
"Who else's trial are you planning on going to?" Riedrus frowned.
"I'm not going." Eisla said firmly.
Both of the men looked at her in surprise.
"Why?" Guo asked quietly.
"'Are you afraid of the bastard?" Riedrus asked curiously.
Eisla tossed him a scathing look. "Of course not! If I had the chance, I'd slice him up and serve him to wild vampires."
"Then why? You have just as much reason to see him put away - " Riedrus's eyes widened in sudden realization. Eisla fidgeted under his piercing gaze; she really did hate that faerie with all her might. "You're not scared of Greyfire." He said slowly. "You're afraid of Roan Ryker."
Eisla averted her gaze, scowling ferociously. The dim light shone off her short hair, and Guo looked at her sadly.
"You have no reason to avoid our friend, Eisla." He said gently.
"Shut up." Eisla muttered.
"Unbelievable." Riedrus said lowly, making her look up. His face was disapproving. "And here I thought you were the toughest elf I've ever met."
When he was met with silence, he got up with a sigh. "Alright then." He looked between the mongool and the elf, his lips pressed into a hard line. "I guess I'll leave you be."
He turned and opened the door, leaving the room with a swish of his cloak.
Guo watched him go before looking back at Eisla helplessly. She'd frozen at Riedrus's words, and her eyes were glued to the seat the faerie had just vacated.
Guo sighed. "Don't let him get to you - "
"I am the toughest elf you've ever met, you flying bastard!" Eisla snarled, launching out of her seat.
Guo watched as she took off down the hallway after the faerie. He shook his head to himself as he slowly began to gather up the papers in front of him, but there was a small smile on his face.
----------------------------------
When the three of them arrived at the Feloix Felaii Council Chambers, a small gathering of people were already on the steps. Eisla immediately recognized several faces.
Seamus and Dionysus were the closest to them, talking in low voices with a bunch of rough looking individuals who could only be information dealers. Seamus looked worse for wear, in the same clothes she'd seen him in last, and a hand self consciously smoothing down the rope of hair that was usually carefully arranged into a Mohawk. Dionysus contrasted with his lover sharply - someone had outfitted him in a fine solstae suit, and he was literally glowing in the midst of the rag tag group of low level criminals. Further in, Jannosh and Myrnah huddled together, looking into each other's eyes as they spoke to each other. Behind them, Apollo and Lilah stood gracefully and regally, every bit as beautiful a couple as they always were.
Imbetween them, flanked like some kind of royalty, was Roan Ryker.
Eisla was taken aback by how different he looked. He was dressed as he always was - worn jeans hung fashionably off his hips, and a ratty black tee shirt was worn under a faded suede jacket. His face looked the same as it always did, pale and devastatingly gorgeous, but his golden eyes were expressionless. All the light and impish energy had gone out of them, and their absence absolutely transformed him.
There were subdued greetings and murmured hellos as she, Guo and Riedrus joined the group.
"Eisla." Lilah was as warm as ever. She touched her hand and smiled earnestly at her, and Apollo nodded solemnly from beside his love.
'Hello." Eisla smiled at the couple, before turning nervous eyes to Roan.
He wasn't looking at her, which made her heart drop. His blank eyes were on the great doors behind them, which were slowly opening. Eisla saw another familiar figure stride out to meet them.
Like Roan, Felix looked how he always had in a dark grey suit and smart black shoes, but his face was completely changed. He looked older, with new lines in his handsome face and unreadable silver eyes. If possible, Eisla felt even worse at the sight of him.
Everyone else had noticed his arrival as well, and all talk lulled into silence. Felix nodded curtly at everyone.
"Thank you everyone for coming." Eisla didn't miss how his eyes skipped over Roan. "It means a lot to me that you did. Please come inside, the trial is about to start."
After he finished speaking, he turned abruptly and headed back inside. The group began to follow, a grim silence hanging over everyone's heads.
A warm hand encircled Eisla's, and she looked up to see that Lilah was still smiling warmly at her. "Sit with me?" She asked, her voice like wind chimes.
Eisla nodded, unable to speak, as Lilah lead her inside.
The largest council chamber was being used, but when everyone trudged in, Eisla saw that less than half of the crystal seats were full. The room was opulent and shining, but Eisla's eyes were immediately drawn to the figure chained on the circular dais in the middle of the room.
Greyfire's arms and feet were locked in Trinity chains, and stalks of kalleb had been bound to his remaining palm and the soles of his feet. It was clear from their pristine condition that they were doing their job - he was unable to use his powers with them there. Gone were his opulent red robes; in their place, plain white prisoner garb made him look even more like a ghost. His white blonde hair had been shaved off, making his thin face even bonier, and the golden eyes set deep in their sockets looked furious and full of contempt. He watched as their party descended the steps, his lip curling up into a sneer. His chains jingled as he leaned forward, and the two peacekeepers flanking him barked something curt.
In the front row, closest to the dais, Greyfire's defender sat next to the Council Chamber ministers. Eisla didn't recognize the defender, a small shifter man that looked miserable, but she recognized the ministers. Dressed in all black robes, they were the same men who had presided over her trial. Like everyone else in the chamber, they had twisted in their seats to watch them enter, and she felt a chill, wondering nervously if they remembered her.
When everyone was seated, several rows back from the dais, the chamber tribune stood up. At this trial, the tribune was a stout witch with the snout of a pig.
"Are we awaiting any more trial members?" He boomed, his voice carrying around the room.
The people present intoned a somber "nay."
"Then the trial will now begin." The tribune cleared his throat and picked up a piece of paper. "Today, on the 16th of April in the year 2015, Eleazar Greyfire stands accused. His charges include that of mass murder, inciting acts of murder, inciting public disorder and murder in the highest of disapproval. He stands defended by chamber appointed defender Alex McQuaid, and is to be judged by the High Ministers of the Feloix Felaii Council Chambers. Is anyone present today in disagreement of the facts?"
"I am." Greyfire crowed. Dozens of eyes looked at him, but when no one else spoke, he was ignored.
"Very well." The tribune looked over at the ministers. "Then this trial is in session."
As he sat down, the minister directly in front of Greyfire stood up. The stout goblin cleared his throat loudly. "Are you, Eleazar Greyfire, aware of the consequences that come with such serious charges?"
Greyfire smiled darkly at the minister. "Quite aware."
The goblin seemed unperturbed. "Do you plan today to contest the charges brought against you?"
There was a short pause as everyone looked at him. Greyfire glanced around swiftly, his eyes pausing on where Roan was sitting in front of Eisla, before looking back at the minister.
"Yes." He said simply.
His defender leapt to his feet. "My apologies, High Minister." He bowed low, shooting a desperate look at his client. "My client and I have been unable to reach an agreement in this matter, but as his defender I must insist that he will not be contesting these charges - "
"Oh, stop blathering, you fool." Greyfire snarled, glaring daggers at his defender. Eisla was annoyed to see the poor man flinch at the look. "I never agreed that you would defend me. You're barely capable of defending a baby, let alone someone of my stature."
"Eleazar Greyfire." Another minister climbed to his feet, letting the goblin sit down. This minister was a vampire, from the looks of it - he had a wonderfully beautiful face, with flowing golden hair, but his face was twisted in irritation. "You will not speak unless directly spoken to."
Greyfire's eyes flashed. "Is that so? I thought I had the basic right of making a statement before the trial proceeds, do I not?"
The vampire took a deep, annoyed breath. "That comes after the traditional trial proceedings that come at the beginning of trial."
"Oh just let him, if he's that adamant." Another minister, an elf, snapped impatiently.
The vampire made another irritated face before sinking back into his seat. He held a hand out mockingly, signalling Greyfire to proceed.
The waif smiled sickeningly sweetly back at him. "Thank you, kind sir." He turned away, and everyone could tell he was looking directly at Roan. Eisla glanced uncomfortably at the back of Roan's head; he was as still as a statue, no doubt looking squarely back at Greyfire.
Greyfire cleared his throat, tossing back the hair that was no longer there. His face grew serious. "I would like to start by saying that none of you see this as what it really was. It was a journey - no, a quest! - to gain back something of lore. Power that people only knew about from history was so close to being real and tangible again." He paused, trying to take a step forward, but the peacekeeper beside him jerked him back firmly.
Greyfire scowled at him before continuing. "I would also like to say that I regret nothing. All of this, although a failure, has not been for naught." Roan's head twitched slightly, but besides that, he was still. "I don't regret all the lives I've taken over the centuries. I don't regret all the grief and mourning that I've put you all in, because your cries are like music to my ears."
At this, the people present started to murmur uncomfortably amongst themselves. Eisla looked around to see that the people she'd spent the last several days with looked sick; just how mad the man was couldn't be any clearer.
Greyfire was smiling widely again, his grin reminiscent of a skull. "I relished in all those deaths. My only regret is that I can't kill anymore people, and that you will all sleep safe tonight."
"That's enough." The elf minister snapped as the murmuring of the crowd became more agitated. "You have had your say, Eleazar Greyfire."
But the waif was laughing again, his manic mirth ringing around the cavernous space like bells. Eisla grimaced, remembering the first time she'd heard his laughter; visions of Hargrem getting burned into oblivion and Hiegrin's still eyes. She shivered slightly, and she felt Lilah's hand, still on hers, squeeze gently.
"Yes! You're absolutely right, my dear! I've had my say." Greyfire was wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, his demented grin still contorting his face. "But one last thing, if you please. Roan Ryker!" He shouted, pointing a bony finger at the younger waif. Roan was still frozen, but Eisla saw that the air around the boy was shimmering with heat.
"Roan Ryker, my dear boy." Greyfire tilted his head at him, shaking his head in mock sadness. "How sad I am that I can't spend more time with you. You promised me decades, no, centuries of suffering, but I'll have to deprive you of that. You see, Roan, I was born a winner. And now, even in chains, I will still triumph over you."
Roan climbed slowly to his feet, ignoring Apollo's whispered urges beside him. Greyfire winked at him as he did.
"I'm so sorry, Roan." Greyfire crooned. "I'm sorry that you are a miserable, little, pathetically sore loser."
Suddenly, quick as lightning, Greyfire jerked his head abruptly to the side, cracking it against the peacekeeper's temple beside him. The man cried out in surprise, stumbling and falling off the dais. Before he'd hit the ground, Greyfire spun around to the other peacekeeper, his hand just a flash as he pulled something glittering from the shocked man's weapon's belt.
"No!" Roan roared in fury. He was suddenly in motion, bounding down the remaining seats towards the dais, ignoring the cries and shouts of the room as everything erupted into chaos.
But he was too late. Greyfire was still laughing manically, his voice high and keening and delirious, as his chained hand flicked up to his face. The crowd burst into screams as a dagger sank hilt-deep into his left eye. Blood gushed out in an awful fountain, spraying the ministers red, and Greyfire fell back and hit the floor with a thud.
The chamber was in complete disorder. Eisla leapt to her feet and watched, aghast and horrified, as Roan jumped on the dais and threw himself on the floor next to Greyfire's crumpled figure. People were clambering over each other to escape the awful scene, their screams of horror and terror ricocheting around the room, but Eisla watched as Roan grabbed the front of Greyfire's robes, shaking him desperately.
"No!" He cried out in rage and grief. "You don't get to get off that easy, you bastard! Don't you dare!"
Apollo and Felix were suddenly beside him, trying to drag him away. But Roan's hands were still locked on the front of Greyfire's robes; the stark white was quickly turning red.
"No." Roan sobbed, shaking the man forcefully. The elder waif's body was lifeless and unmoving, but Roan shook like a leaf in a hurricane. He was too upset to notice or care about the blood slowly seeping into his jeans.
As the chamber cleared out of its panicked participants, the only people that remained were the people Eisla walked in with. Everyone was on their feet, too shocked and horrified to say or do anything.
The only things that moved were Roan's trembling frame and the pool of blood that steadily grew larger and larger around him.