Chapter 465: Choosing Death to Save a Life
"Who else among the dead cries out for justice and revenge?"
Nyrielle’s words once again brought all eyes to Zedya’s crimson figure. So looked next to the coffins holding the bodies of the Black Wolf Brigade, marked by their red paw prints as though promising violence to anyone who failed to honor their deaths. But while most expected Zedya to move on to the next victims on Nyrielle’s side of the tragedy, she moved instead to a cluster of six giant blocks of ice, each holding the body of a venerable and respected Frost Walker.
"While few at the ti knew for certain what had happened to young lord Hauke," Zedya began as she prepared to reveal a truth that few knew for certain even if many had already heard rumors. "Lord Ritchel understood the mont he attacked that his son had been possessed by the ancestral spirits of the horns he carried."
"For a brief mont during the battle, the Mother of Trees had been suppressed, the Willow Witch had retreated, and Young Lorde Hauke stood alone," Zedya explained, painting a clear picture for those in the audience who hadn’t been able to witness the outbreak of hostilities. "Lord Ritchel attempted to seize that mont to imprison his son before the violence could escalate."
"If he had succeeded, the entire tragedy that followed may have been averted," Zedya said with a heavy sigh. "Six n stood beside him and aided in the construction of that prison of ice. Gunter, Hrosskel, Artur, Sturla, Hulda, and Daldis," she said, reciting each na in turn. "These n of honor stood by their lord and took action against one of their own in the hopes of preventing further bloodshed. Their honor at that mont shone as pure and brightly as fresh snow."
Hearing Zedya’s words, Talauia squird uncomfortably in her seat. Now that there had been an opportunity for Zedya to interrogate the captive lord, the truth of his intentions was being laid out before everyone. Moreover, in Zedya’s retelling, Ritchel and his honor guard were clearly honorable heroes, which ant that she was dood to play the role of the villain.
Briefly, for perhaps all of two wingbeats of ti, Talauia thought of fleeing the proceedings before the crowd could turn against her. It was only when she received a gentle, reassuring look from Heila that she stilled her trembling wings and forced herself to remain in her seat. She wasn’t alone this ti, she reminded herself.
She had friends here, and her strongest friends were the strongest ones present. Nothing would go wrong, nothing could go wrong, she told herself again and again until she almost believed it was true. She believed it, but her hand still gripped the wand at her waist and her multifaceted eyes never stopped tracking the people in the room who might pose a threat to her.
"Lord Ritchel failed to isolate Hauke," Zedya continued, telling the complex story as simply and directly as she could. "And in his failure, he trapped the Mother of Trees in a prison of ice with the most powerful ancestral spirits the Frost Walker Clan has ever seen. Spirits who were hostile to her and the Willow Witch for the ’offense’ of carrying a blade carved from the horn of a traitor to the Frost Walker Clan."
"That failure cented the perception that the Frost Walkers had beco traitors in the minds of many, including the Thistle Witch, Talauia," Zedya said, turning to face the winged assassin. "The Thistle Witch who had already seen her dear friend gravely injured and one of the most important witches outside of her own coven imprisoned," Zedya emphasized. "She didn’t know then that Lord Ritchel and his honor guard were only trying to help. But she knew that if they died, it would allow her friend to break free from their prison."
Across the room, people’s expressions grew complex as they looked at the anxious, fidgety witch. Among the Frost Walkers, many looked on with gazes that showed a trace of sympathy while others burned with icy fury. None of the sorcerers in Lord Ritchel’s honor guard had been young n and so of the Frost Walkers gathered in the crowd were their wives, children, or even grandchildren. For so of them, nothing less than the death of the Thistle Witch would satisfy their need for revenge.
"Gunter, Hrosskel, Artur, Sturla, Hulda, and Daldis," Zedya said, repeating the nas and turning to face Nyrielle and Ashlynn on the dias. "These six n fell one by one to the needles and poison of the Thistle Witch. Each of them died a hero, buying ti for Lord Ritchel to absorb the power of a Blood Vitality Crystal without which he never would have survived battle with the Thistle Witch."
"But these n have died with their work unfinished," Zedya said, returning to the six n frozen in ice. "They died so that their lord might live, but now he lays in the cells below the fortress, balanced on the edge between life and death. In a few day’s ti, when the Blood Vitality Crystal’s energy is exhausted, he will likely beco crippled for the remainder of his days."
At those words, the restraint that had prevailed in the hall shattered like a thin sheet of ice as several young warriors among the Frost Walkers surged forward.
"Save Lord Ritchel! You can’t let him die!"
"He did nothing wrong! He tried to save us all!"
"If Lord Ritchel dies, the Thistle Witch must die! Justice for Lord Ritchel!"
"Justice for Lord Ritchel and death to the Thistle Witch!"
"Justice for Lord Ritchel and..."
"I WILL HAVE SILENCE!" Nyrielle said, infusing a trace of the deep abyss into her voice and instantly robbing the young n of their montary surge of courage. Her midnight eyes had beco deep wells of darkness like the depths of the chasm outside the keep and anyone who t her gaze felt their knees weaken while their innards turned to jelly.
"Young Ritchel is my friend," Nyrielle said into the deafening silence that followed her command. "As was his father before him and his grandfather before him. Or have you all forgotten? Do you think I am happy to see him wounded and in pain?"
"Now is not the ti to decide whether or not he did anything wrong last night," Nyrielle said firmly, directing her cold stare at the young n who insisted that Ritchel did nothing wrong. "Now it is ti to find peace for the fallen. We will discuss Lord Ritchel’s future and the future of the High Pass once the dead have had a chance to have their grievances heard and answered. Zedya," she said, turning back to the vampire in crimson. "Please continue."
"Yes Mistress," Zedya said with a polite curtsey before she swept her athyst eyes over the gathered Frost Walkers. "These heroes who sacrificed their lives so their lord might live need not die bitter and unfulfilled. Their sacrifice can still have aning if Lord Ritchel’s life can be preserved. Lady Talauia," she said, turning to look at the witch who looked like she was about to rush for the nearest exit.
"Will you heal Lord Ritchel," Zedya asked. "Will you restore him from the wounds you inflicted and honor the last wish of those who died so that he might live?"
Odette’s heart raced in her chest, beating so hard that she thought it had transford into one of the drums that announced Nyrielle’s arrival. Her pure white horn glittered with half-ford snowflakes as hope began to build within her that her love could still be saved. Lady Nyrielle refused to talk about the fate of his throne, but if they could secure his life... Her hope, however, was short-lived when the Thistle Witch gave her answer.
"I can’t, I can’t restore him from what was done," Talauia said with misty eyes as she watched the gazes of the Frost Walkers grow increasingly hostile. "So things, so things, once you break them, they can’t ever be fixed. I didn’t... didn’t leave a way out for Ritchel..." she said in a voice that grew quieter and quieter the more she spoke.
Heila had told her that they needed to ask him questions, she was supposed to keep him alive long enough to ask their questions, but... she’d never intended for him to survive for more than a few days. It would have been enough ti to get all the answers they needed, but now, to change her mind and grant him life because he hadn’t died yet... She really couldn’t do it!
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