Chapter 77:
The Hunt Begins
Note: This chapter contains a graphic fight scene. Viewer discretion is advised.
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The palace was full of vigor, crowded with a variety of nobles, palace guests, diplomats, and other high-standing figures from around the continent. The guests spoke amongst themselves, eating hors d'oeuvres served by the experienced palace servants as they waited for the final selection event to start. Many of the nobles waged bets behind the scenes, putting trivial amounts of gold on the prince's affection towards particular candidates, their nationalistic ideals unhidden in their choices as they supported their own kingdom's candidates.
Charlotte had already entered the garden, which was the designated rest area for the participants, with Sagara, Philomena, and Olicia having entered separately not far behind her. They all were silently in awe by the immaculate beauty of the garden. The usually pristine garden was breathtaking with the amount of lights and flowers that were arranged around the expansive garden in a very short amount of time. Still, Olicia could not hold back the dread that slithered down her spine as she looked around the familiar setting. She had managed to avoid the garden completely since she had been almost killed in the garden's maze, but now she was forced to return and relive the memories. She tried her best to stifle the uncomfortable fear that sunk into her stomach, making her heart race, but when her eyes glanced over to the entrance to the garden's maze, she could feel her chest tighten, and it became hard for her to breathe.
Charlotte, who was speaking to a high-ranking noble from the Vartien kingdom, paused for a moment as she rested a hand on Olicia's arm, causing Olicia to jump. Charlotte innocently laughed as she patted Olicia's arm, "I'm sorry for startling you, Marchioness Hallan. It's easy to get distracted with how beautiful the garden is, but I wanted to introduce you to a good friend of mine." This caused the nobleman to laugh and bow politely at the pale Olicia. Olicia smiled weakly and curtseyed at the nobleman,
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sir." Olicia said politely.
"The pleasure is all mine." The nobleman said with an equally polite smile, before he looked over at a voice calling out to him, "Ah, well. It seems I am being summoned. We must speak again before the hunt ends, Princess Charlotte."
"Of course," Charlotte said with a smile, her rosy cheeks glowing in the sun, "Best of luck in the hunt. May your prey be swift, but your arrow be swifter." The nobleman bowed once more at the young women, then walked towards the voice that had called to him before. Out of earshot, Charlotte turned towards Olicia, her smile warm while her eyes were cold. Olicia held her breath as Charlotte sighed at her,
"I know that this place holds bad memories for you, but you must have better control of your reaction. You might as well be thrown in the cage with the rest of the prey for the hunt with how you're acting." Charlotte continued to smile as she glanced around the expansive garden.
Though Olicia winced slightly at Charlotte's hard words, she knew that Charlotte was right. Even though it was difficult for Olicia to return to a place with such bad memories, she could not show weakness in a place where there were enemies lurking all around them. Not only was she putting a target on herself, she was putting everyone who associated with her, including Charlotte, Philomena, and Sagara, at risk, "You're right. I'm sorry."
Charlotte glanced back over at Olicia before she smiled genuinely, her eyes warming, "I know it's difficult right now, but you'll get used to it." Olicia nodded, closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down. Charlotte calmly stood next to Olicia as she did this, patiently waiting as Olicia regained her composure.
"I'm okay now. Thank you." Olicia said, turning towards Charlotte with color back in her face.
"Good." Charlotte opened a fan that was hung by a cord around her wrist, covering the lower half of her face, "It seems Sagara is speaking with someone interesting. We should join her."
Leading the distracted Olicia with an arm wrapped securely around hers, Charlotte quietly returned them to their group, joined by Sagara and Philomena, who were socializing with nobles as they exchanged pleasantries, their eyes sharing knowing looks.
As the four women stood together, nobles from their various countries would stop by to speak to them, exchanging news. Olicia stumbled through the greetings as she had little experience dealing with other nobles, but each time Charlotte would smoothly cover for Olicia's mistakes, bringing attention back to herself instead of the embarrassed Olicia. Once their initial appearances had been made, the small group was able to move closer to the main tent to wait for the event to begin. Annmaria and Ophira were not far behind them, standing at a distance from the small group with their heads held high, greeting the other guests with a cordial attitude.
As Philomena finished exchanging greetings with a Yursinean noble, she noticed Alywin standing by his father. Olicia followed her gaze, "Where is Prince Clarence? Usually he and Marquis Cyneric are stuck at the hip, but all I see is the marquis by the tent over there." Olicia said with a frown, adjusting the collar of her hunting jacket as she stared at the marquis with a wary expression.
While Charlotte and Sagara nodded in acknowledgement, Philomena's eyes perked up as she looked towards the well-dressed marquis, but she could not hold back a sigh as she said somewhat sadly, "I'm sure he'll be over here in no time to come speak to you. You two are so close, after all." Her bright eyes stared down as she covered the lower half of her face with her fan. "The two of you suit each other, after all."
Sagara raised a brow as Olicia froze momentarily before she began to cough. "What-?!" She patted her chest and caught her breath as she said, "I'm sorry if I have confused you, Philomena. The marquis and I are not close. In fact, we don't get along that well. He only helped me when I needed it, and it certainly wasn't because of affection." Olicia's brows were furrowed as she did nothing to hide the irritation on her face as she mentioned Alywin, thinking back to the times he had locked her in a room when she was in disguise.
Hearing Olicia's distaste, the fire in the bottom of Philomena's heart was quickly reignited as she said in a heated whisper. "Really?" The light in her eyes burned even brighter as she then said with a determined tone, "Then you have no feelings for each other? You would not be bothered if I pursued him?" Olicia quickly shook her head, reassuring the excited princess. Philomena's smile grew larger as she clapped her hands together, her mind racing, "When he takes his father's position, the marquis will be a duke, and he is a close friend of the prince. He is practically a prince, so he will be high enough rank to please my father. And my father wants better ties with the Yursear kingdom, so he would be so happy to hear this!" Lifting her chest, Philomena stood proudly, fanning herself with a fervent pace, as if her mind had been made up.
While Philomena was heatedly discussing this with Olicia, Charlotte lifted her fan just above her chin as she peered over the edge, quietly watching the throne chair.
The queen stood next to the throne, speaking to an aged Yursinean duchess, watching the crowd as they spoke, maintaining her regal demeanor as she hid her irritation at the late appearance of her son. Having already sent a servant to find him, the queen was tempted to send another servant in the young butler's place, but before she could raise her hand to send another palace hand, Clarence appeared.
With his hair pushed back off of his forehead, Clarence appeared older than eighteen. His eyes were sharp, his spine tall and straight. He wore his black royal hunting suit, embroidered with the Yursinean crest and gold threading. Even without padding, his shoulders were broad and wide, and his fingers were long and slender under the white gloves prepared by the palace servants. As he walked from the castle to the garden, his bright eyes glanced over the crowd as he smiled politely, smiling at the various familiar nobles from around the continent as they bowed, formally greeting the future king of the Yursear Kingdom.
The prince's appearance finally signified the start of the hunt. As he greeted the queen, the other nobles moved away from the queen's tent and waited with bated breaths, ready for the event to finally begin, for the final selection event to go underway. With the appearance of the prince, even Philomena fell quiet as she found Alywin once again in the crowd and stared at him with a fervent, piercing gaze that made the young marquis's back grow warm and his expression sour.
"We welcome you all to the Annual Yursinean Hunt. It has been my pleasure to prepare this hunt in order to celebrate my son's arrival to adulthood, and to allow him one last opportunity to select his future wife from the lovely candidates from around the continent. We hope you enjoy this event." The queen spoke eloquently, explaining the details of the event as the nobles listened with attentive gazes, their eyes falling on the prince as he stood, listening to the queen with a smile on his lips.
Clarence smiled, the color in his eyes darkening another degree as he thought of the surprise he had prepared for the participants. It was his last chance to test the bridal candidates, and this way, he would be able to find who was truly worthy of stepping up to the throne. Captain Laurent had already been sent to take care of the things Clarence ordered him to. Now, it was time for the hunt to begin.
As the hunt was announced, the nearby noble men, dressed in their hunting gear and armed with their bows, arrows, and other hunting weapons, stepped first towards the forest in groups, led by the prince himself as he held onto the hilt of his sword, his bow resting on his back with his quiver as he walked steadily into the late fall foliage. As he walked, he noticed a figure walking towards the edge of the forest, their expression reproachful as they stood by, watching the prince's descent into the forest.
Don't forget your role. Clarence mouthed to the man as he passed, smiling brightly as his hand rested on the hilt of his sword, his index finger brushing against the top of the handle in warning.
The man, Captain Beau Laurent, controlled his gaze as he saluted the prince, leaving the rest of the noblemen to enter the woods as he stepped back, his gaze falling towards the group of candidates, standing not far away from the queen's tent.
It was time for the true hunt to begin.
…
Coughing up the last of the bile and vomit trailing in the back of his throat, Silas panted. Leaning against a tree, partially hidden by the cover of the forest, he attempted to catch his breath, thinking of the words spoken by the villagers during the "festival," if it could even be called that.
As quickly as Silas had run, Emmeline was only a short distance behind him. In her light dress, she looked young and healthy, but Silas could see the worry and paleness in her face as she looked at him, her voice full of concern, though she was still smiling, just as she had during the festival.
"Goodness! You must have drank too much!" Emmeline gently placed her hand on Silas's shoulder as she hunched down next to him. He jumped at the warm fingers resting on his shoulder. Emmeline tilted her head in concern, but quickly smiled it off, "Can you stand up? I'll go get you some water."
"No." Silas said weakly, shaking off Emmeline's touch. Emmeline's eyes widened in surprise at the rejection, but quickly smiled again.
"You can't stand up? Or you don't want water?" Emmeline asked slowly, uncertainly.
"No," Silas said sternly, placing a shaky hand on the tree as he rose to his feet, "No more." Silas's voice shook, but he straightened his back, "I won't do this anymore."
Emmeline's eyebrows hunched as she stared at Silas, confused, "Silas, what are you talking about? Maybe you should rest for a while."
Silas slowly shook his head, frowning deeply, "I'm sorry, Emmeline." Silas then walked past Emmeline, who faltered, trying to think of something to say.
"Silas? Wait!" Emmeline said, reaching out and grabbing Silas's arm. He stopped, but did not turn around to face her, "Where are you going? What are you doing?"
"I'm leaving." Silas said, his tone cold and his words short, "I can't stay here."
"But you just got back!" Emmeline protested, letting go of Silas's arm and running in front of him, holding out her arms so he could not easily go around him. The air around them stilled, as if the forest itself was holding its breath, waiting and watching the couple, "Everyone was so excited to see you! Your mother, your siblings, everyone! We worked so hard to make this a fun reunion! How could you just run away now?"
Silas finally turned his face up to stare at Emmeline, taking in her curly brown hair, her large eyes, and her familiar freckles. He looked down at her thin arms, valiantly standing strong in an attempt to block Silas, and her dress that hugged under her bosom, drifting down to sit just below her knees. Sandals covered her small feet, hiding the callouses that were developed from walking barefoot daily.
"Looking at you now makes me think of our time together in Moireach. Even though most days there were difficult there, being by your side made them pass so easily." Silas said, a sad smile slowly growing on his face as he reminisced.
"Moireach? But that's impossible, neither of us have ever left the Yursear kingdom." Emmeline said, her expression dropping as he listened, "Maybe you should rest, Silas. Obviously killing the crown prince has been more taxing on you than you originally thought."
Instead of replying, Silas's sad smile grew. He stared at Emmeline, then towards the large group of people, who continued to cheer and celebrate as the small head on the spike was paraded in front of them. Silas opened his mouth and spoke, anguish flooding his pale face, "I knew it. I knew this whole time, but I couldn't bring myself to say it. I guess now I can't deny it anymore."
"Deny what?" Emmeline asked, her hands gradually dropping back down to her sides. Her excitement was gone, her face now masked in doubt and concern.
"That this isn't real." Silas whispered, shaking his head, "None of this is real. The only thing I'm unsure of now is if this is a dream, or if I'm in purgatory."
"Silas." Emmeline mumbled, reaching out towards Silas. Silas stared at her hand forlornly, then took a step back, moving himself out of her reach.
"No. I can't." Silas said, his eyes misting with tears, "You're not real. You died years ago. And my family is alive. If I'm not dead, I have to go back and save them."
"Silas, you're speaking nonsense. Listen to you-"
"Shut up!" Silas snapped, his fists clenching, his shoulders shivering, "Stop, Emmeline. Please."
Emmeline's hands froze at his sharp tone.
"Why are you saying these things? Are you trying to hurt me?" Emmeline mumbled, looking away from Silas with disgust, "Do you hate the village, now that you're the big hero for killing the prince? Are we all too small and insignificant for you now?"
"Yes." Silas whispered, a tear running down his cheek as he stood his ground, "I hate this village. I hate this family. And I hate this you. This isn't what I remember. You aren't the Emmeline I remember. Emmeline, my village, my family, they never would have celebrated the death of a child! I want to return home! I want to go back to where I belong."
"How…" Emmeline took in Silas's words, her confusion contorting into anger as her glare grew intense and her thin lips turned downward into a sharp, nasty scowl, "How dare you! After everything I've done for you! I continued to live in horrible pain for you! I died in agony for you! And this is how you repay me?!" Emmeline waited for a response, but Silas only shook his head and walked past her, refusing to meet her gaze as he passed. A horrible scream echoed behind him as he walked away, and as Silas whipped around to see what was happening behind him, he saw Emmeline scream as she hunched over. Her body violently shook, as if she were in immense pain.
Silas wanted to call out to her, but as he opened his mouth to speak, he was stopped as he witnessed what was happening. He could only stand in place, frozen in shock, as he heard the sounds of bones snapping, skin tearing, and fabric ripping as the person he called his wife turned into something inhuman.
The creature retained a human shape, but its nails were long and sharp, nearly a foot long, black as the night sky. Her hair lengthened, the curls shifting into long strips of black, straight hair. Her teeth, partially covered by her falling hair, were wide and pointed, alarmingly large, like a wolf's. The only semblance of humanity it had was Emmeline's eyes, but as Silas looked at the creature, he could only see the obsession in its gaze, its eyes full of him. It's black slits full of hatred and bloodlust.
Unsheathing his sword at his hip, Silas's glare turned sharp and cold, his heart thudding in his chest as the sense of danger around him heightened. The thing in front of him wanted to rip him apart with its long, sharp talons, but Silas would not let it. He would do whatever he had to to return to his real family.
As the creature stepped forward, Silas screamed, thrusting his sword forward as the creature waved its greasy claws in his direction. Silas lifted his sword and dodged to the left, bowing his head as he pushed back, using the leverage of his sword to steady his feet. The creature screamed as it swung its other arm at Silas, it's long, curved nails moving quickly towards Silas. Silas could only step back and dodge, moving his sword to parry the creature's other hand as it drove towards his abdomen, screeching inhumanely.
What is this thing?! Silas felt dizzy, his throat burning in disgust. This thing never was Emmeline.
Jumping back, Silas attempted to find any weak points in the creature. The creature's legs were long and knobby, the knees bowed sharply into each other, showing just below the hem of the long pale dress. Staring at its legs, the creature hissed at Silas and lunged forward once again, biting its sharp teeth towards Silas with a growl, it's breath full of the scent of decay and stale blood as its mouth was only inches away from Silas's nose, attempting to pin him down to the ground. Silas stood with his feet wide apart, holding back the creature with his sword, his hands trembling at the force.
I have to end this quickly. Otherwise it will overwhelm me. The creatures snapped and snarled, lunging towards Silas with killing intent. His sword could only protect him for so long. If it were to break, he would be finished, at the hands of the creature's mercy. He had to act quickly. Silas did not know what would happen if he were to die here, but he refused to let this creature keep him trapped any longer.
Clutching the hilt of his sword, Silas screamed as he pushed back heavily against the monster, pushing back the large mouth, allowing the stench to be alleviated. As the monster stumbled, Silas stepped forward and slashed his sword towards the monster's abdomen. The first cut was only a grazing blow, shallow, but the next was heavier and cut through layers of flesh, eventually hitting the inner organs of the creature as blood began to gush, pooling at the creature's feet as the liquid poured onto the ground like a fountain.
The creature hissed, holding its abdomen with its right hand as it lunged forward towards Silas again, using its left hand to reach towards his head. Silas ducked down, diving forward as he slid across the ground on his knees, sliding against the moist dirt. The monster swung its other hand to the side, behind its back, but Silas threw himself to the ground and quickly rolled, hurrying to his feet before the monster could fully turn to face him. With the creature's weak knees exposed, Silas could only finish the battle.
"Die!" He screamed, slashing his elven sword heavily, his hands holding the hilt with a heavy grip as the blade passed through the layers of flesh and bone, tearing through the fragile bones until the creature was swept off of its feet, having removed its lower limbs. With a heavy thud, the creature fell to the ground, thrashing and screeching in agony as it attempted to claw at the stumps that had once held its legs. Eventually, it ceased moving, it's long arms lying limp in the still grass.
Silas stood, covered in dirt and blood as he panted, his cheeks flushed as he held his hand to his head, shivering as he dropped his sword to the side, fighting the urge to vomit again. Instead, as he looked up at the sky, which had begun to rain, he shed a tear, then another. The rain and storms masked his sobs as the villagers screamed and ran, covering their heads from the heavy rain as they fled towards their homes for shelter.
Once again, Silas was all alone.
…
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Thank you, Hunny, for helping me fix this chapter and for reminding me how to correctly spell hors d'oeuvres, repeatedly. Reminds me to be thankful that she studied French ahaha
Thank y'all for your patience, as a relative of mine just died (we weren't close, but still sucks), and another one just got out of the hospital with covid, but they still don't look good (again, we're not close). Just got alerted recently, so it's been one after the other. Honestly, I'm ready to stress cry since I'm lacking sleep ;~; I apologize for my general slowness getting back to things, as I just have 0 energy. Work is starting to pick up, but I just got a 2% pay increase, so I'm feeling better for sure, but still tired.
Also, this is the last bit with Emmeline, now Silas will be moving on. Grief can be a long or short process, so Hunny and I wanted to show Silas's last feelings with it. Now, we will soon see that fated reunion. I've been working a lot of scenarios through my head when that happens, so be ready for anything.
Thank you all for reading, and please excuse my slowness, as I need more sleep. See you all next week ♥