Crystal Azure

He sprinted down the left hallway, keeping his eyes set on the floor ahead of him, deliberately ignoring the crumpled, bloody forms lying against the walls on either side of him. When he reached the door that led to Erowa's and Riak's bedchambers, he stopped, dread suddenly filling him. He didn't want to enter that room.

Taking a deep breath, he turned the large brass knob and stepped into the carpeted anteroom. Everything seemed in order; nothing was broken, no blood could be seen. His hopes rose. He crossed the room and entered the bedchamber itself.

A body lay curled on the huge bed. Erowa. He hurried over to the bed, hoping desperately that she was only asleep. He lightly shook her by the shoulder and got no response. With a sinking heart, he turned her over, and gasped.

Her eyes were closed, as if she was sleeping, but they had the sunken look behind them that said her eyeballs were missing. Blood trickled forth from her slightly parted lips, drying slowly. The dagger used to kill her was still buried to the hilt in her stomach. The bed was saturated with her blood; it had been a slow, painful death.

Aterae stumbled away from the scene, running as fast as he could from the realm of death. He avoided large puddles of blood and kept his eyes solely on his destination, ignoring the shadowed lumps that cried silently for vengeance.

Upon bursting out of the castle, he saw Kala and Flix meandering through the streets, mildly curious. He squinted his eyes against the brilliant sunlight, and took deep breaths of fresh air. He tried desperately to compose himself, but the horrors of what he saw were still fresh in his mind. He was a trained warrior, true; he should have been able to deal with the atrocities of war. However, the one war he'd ever been in was more of a large-scale fight. That was six years ago. Very few people had died - and none as gruesomely as he'd just seen.

He strode purposefully towards the pair wandering in the direction of the palace.

"Did you find anything?" Kala asked.

Aterae nodded stiffly. "We have to go back to Gilian."

Flix shuddered, but nodded. The trio headed back to where the dragons were resting. War was no longer on the horizon; it was in the midday sky.

"Your men fight persistently," Raukath said mockingly to a stooped Riak.

Riak had bruises covering every inch of visible skin, and skin hidden by clothing as well. Hunger weakened him beyond defense, but anger partially made up for that.

"However," Raukath continued, grin playing on his lips, "you lose more men than I do by a considerable amount. When will you realize this is a futile effort, that you're wasting your men's lives?"

Riak stiffly sat down, wincing. "I've told you already. As soon as you give me Kala back, I will leave with my troops."

Raukath laughed. "And as I've told you, Kala and her friend used one of my slaves and took my dragons and escaped! Do you mean to tell me that they didn't fly back to Oran's Falls?"

Riak merely nodded.

"Hm. I don't believe you." The Kerna'a struck Riak's arm with surprising force. Riak grimaced. "I grow weary of this game, Riak. It's really quite simple. Give me the girl, I will take what I need, and you and the child will be free to go home. But I will find out where she is."

"Why...is she so important to you?" Riak gasped.

Raukath idly twirled the Kerna'a in his hands, inspecting the intricate designs. "It's not her as much as what she holds."

Riak just looked at him, not understanding.

"The crystal. You had the crystal.