Part 3 – Deliverance
Chapter 69:
Nights of Torment
The sky was dark, void of any light from the moon or the stars. There was only the thick darkness of clouds and smoke hanging in the air. Silas glanced around in shock as he felt himself being pushed forward and back in a steady rhythm. Wrapped around his clenched hands was a familiar bridle, and beneath him, panting heavily in a hurried run, was his horse. Trees whipped by them in a blur as they hurried through the forest, following a path he had taken many times as a child. The smell of ash and smoke made Silas cough and cover his face with his sleeve, trying to block the heavy, intrusive scents. The closer Silas got to the smoke, the more his heart began to race, until it was thumping heavily in his ears like a band of drums playing in unison. Silas squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore everything that was happening around him.
Suddenly, a strong, heavy heat licked at Silas’s face, making him recoil in fear. Ripping open his eyes, he found himself in an open meadow, fire burning all around him.
There was no escape.
As Silas turned around, trying to find a way to escape as the fire enclosed around him, he saw a small opening, which Silas gratefully took, racing forward with his sword drawn. Silas dove through the small opening, wrapping his free arm around his face to protect it from the growing flames as the heat seared down his body as he passed.
Quickly, Silas steadied himself and looked forward, gasping in shock as he did. In front of him, charred and burned as the fire mercilessly consumed the nearby area, was the entrance to his village.
“No.” Silas whispered shakily. His mind froze as he stared on in shock and horror, but his feet moved themselves, hurrying him forward as he repeatedly stumbled, fumbling to grab his sword as it slipped out of his hands with each misstep. As he passed the village gates, a small house collapsed into a heap of burned wood and flames, but Silas continued forward, as if by instinct, to the only place that mattered.
Silas ran, panting heavily as he hurried, feeling as if time was pressing down on him with every passing second. A left, then a right. Faster. Faster, he willed his legs to move faster, his body being pushed to the absolute extreme. Even at breakneck speed, he still felt so slow, as if he would never get there.
After what felt like hours, Silas finally passed through the towering gates of the village. He stopped for only a moment, looking left and right until a familiar frame came into view, his home. Silas’s legs felt weak, seeing his home in such disarray, but he found himself running through the debris, dodging the heat of the searing flames as he ran towards his home, weakly standing with it’s stick frame, void of any life. The house was messy, full of shattered furniture and ashes as Silas stood in the collapsing doorway. He heard a weak voice calling his name from somewhere inside. “Silas.”
Where are they? Screaming their names as he ran inside the home, Silas was lost. He had the sinking feeling in his gut that his family was still inside the home, unable to escape the collapsing house. The smoke in the air choked him as tears streamed down his face. He fought the heat and ran into the kitchen only to be stopped by a large piece of wood blocking the doorway.
“Silas! Save us!”
“Silas, help!”
“Please help us!”
Pained screams calling out for him, three separate voices calling desperately for him. As desperately Silas tried to lift the burning wood with his bare hands, he was only burned, forcing him to retract his blistering palms as he looked for another way to move the wood. There was a wooden plank not far from the side of the stairwell, one of the broken pieces of the foundation of the home.
Grabbing the wood, Silas forced the plank under the heavy debris and pushed down, attempting to use the plank as leverage. Using his weight, he pushed down until his face was red, lifting part of the wood up with tremendous effort. Just as he was able to get the wood lifted nearly a foot off of the ground, there was a loud, echoing crack, and the plank in his hands snapped in half from the weight of the burning debris. The debris, no longer supported by the plank, dropped with an alarming thud, slamming down on Silas’s chest as he screamed, attempting to stop the falling wood, but to no avail.
There was only the sound of wood falling, the fire burning, and the sound of crashing wood hammering his heart. He was plagued by the terrifying silence that followed, no longer able to hear their weakening cries as the wooden house collapsed around him, encasing him in searing hot flames. His hoarse voice was drowned out by the sound of collapsing wood.
Soon, the space around him was black. The pain in his chest was searing, and the clothes he wore were torn and burnt from the fierce flames in the home, tarnishing his pale skin with patches of red burns and fierce bruises. His eyes were hazy, and his vision unclear as he drifted into the cool, dark abyss, his fingers cold and unfeeling, yet tingling with pain as he ears rang mindlessly in the mocking silence around him.
It was not until he heard a clear, familiar voice that he was drawn awake, pulled out of the hellscape of the repeating nightmare, “Silas, you’re having a nightmare again. Wake up.” Silas opened his eyes in the blackness, blinking once, then twice. He could see nothing in front of him, not even the hands that he had lifted to his face. Blankly, he moved his head with a mechanical stiffness, feeling his body slowly regain it’s functions once again.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
“Silas, wake up.” A hand touched his own, entering the black abyss with him. “I’m here.” Hearing that familiar voice call out to him again, feeling the touch of another living being, shook something in Silas.
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Meredith’s light blue hair had been let down and laid to rest on his shoulders casually, swaying back and forth with his movements as he moved his hand back to his lap, watching the small kettle burning on the fire with a small sigh. His eyes moved back to Silas and lingered for a moment before he said, “It’s alright.” Meredith paused for a moment, “I’m making some chamomile tea. Drink some. I think you’ll feel better after having a little.” He said in a gentle tone, grabbing two clay tea cups out of his nearby storage bag.
Silas opened his mouth to protest, his stomach sick from the horrible nightmare he had been forced to suffer through again, but he closed it upon seeing Meredith’s gentle, concerned smile. Silas could only accept the tea, licking his dry lips as he looked over towards the others in the group. Vaan and Yulia were resting under their blankets inside the carriage with Eva, while Neema and Saoirse sat awake not far from Silas and Meredith, resting to the side of the carriage as they stood guard, watching over the group. Holland fell asleep not far from the fire, snoring softly to himself as he was wrapped in a thick, decorative woven blanket. He looked warm, wrapped head to toe in the long fabric.
As the fire crackled aloud, a quiet sigh escaped Silas’s lips. He momentarily felt like telling Meredith about his nightmare, but he quickly decided against it, unsure of how he could even describe what he had witnessed, or if he would even want to relive it again by explaining it. Instead, he quietly received the freshly poured cup from Meredith. He thanked him in a quiet voice, allowing the tea to cool before he sipped at it, feeling the warm tea moisen his dry throat as he sat on the cold ground, draped with the heavy leather coat he had been wearing as they traveled.
Meredith and Silas sat in silence, slowly sipping at their tea as they watched the popping fire. The crackles from the flames broke the calm silence, but to Silas, it was somehow soothing. As if seeing real fire somehow diminished the power the fire had in his nightmare.
“Are you alright?” Meredith finally asked, breaking the calming silence as he silently sipped at his tea.
“No, but I think I will be when we find them.” Silas asked in a small voice, holding the warm cup in his hands. The steam wove through the air as the cool night air began to lessen the heat of the mug. “Or, if we find them.” Silas’s grip on the mug tightened, his eyes darkening at the thought.
Meredith set the kettle back on the fire, still full of tea, as he responded quietly, “We will find them. Our family, and the people who took them. If they didn’t want to be found, why did they let Vaan and Yulia live? They are the only ones who can identify who took our family.” Meredith’s expression was dark, but his tone was light as he continued, “It’s only a matter of time before we find out who took them. Until then, have some faith in them. Maeir has survived many things, and she’s waiting to see you again. At this point, there’s almost nothing that can stop that woman.” He smiled lightly, the exhaustion in his face lightening.
There was a soothing effect to Meredith’s words as Silas quieted his worrying thoughts. Meredith was right, Silas had to have faith in his family. And, as much as Silas wanted to find them, he had to focus on the mission at hand, finding more information on where his family was taken, and why.
Maeir wouldn’t give up without a fight. Silas thought to himself, his lips pursed as he sighed quietly to himself, closing his eyes weakly.
As the space around Silas and Meredith fell silent, there was a rustling sound from inside the carriage, and a hand reached out from outside the fabric flaps on the back of the carriage, feeling around as if they were trying to find the steps. Once their hand rested on the first stair, a slim, blonde head poked out, their white-blonde hair long and straight. It could only belong to Yulia.
Quietly, Yulia stepped down with steady steps and landed on the ground with her small wooden boots, looking back and forth around the small camp with a curious glance until Meredith called out to her. “Yulia, we’re over here. Come join us.” His voice was soft and gentle, losing some of the seriousness from the conversation between him and his nephew.
Hearing Meredith’s voice, Yulia smiled, her pale face brightened by the fire light as she approached, her heavy fabric dress fluttering as she pulled her knitted shawl closer to her chest, appearing cold as she shivered. Her steps were muffled by the long grass as she stumbled towards Meredith, finally sitting only a foot away from his side, her smile remaining bright.
“How are you feeling, Yulia?” Meredith began, his expression gentle as he spoke lightly.
Yulia smiled and said, “Much better. Fortunately Vaan stepped in and protected me from most of the attacks, otherwise I would have been in much worse condition.” She shook her head, her demeanor turning somber as she continued, “He suffered a severe leg injury, but it seems to be healing well after your treatment. Thank you for taking care of us.” She cupped her hands and bowed her head, her hair hanging low as she did so.
With Yulia in front of him, Silas could not help but say, “Hello, Yulia. I wasn’t able to introduce myself before, but I’m Meredith’s godson, Silas.” He bowed his head lightly in an elven greeting and said, “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Hearing the sound of Silas’s voice, Yulia turned to face him and said, “I thought I heard another voice.” She laughed quietly to herself, but the sad air about her was maintained, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Silas. I’ve heard a great deal about you from Eva.” She bowed her head again, her hair falling into her face as she did so. Hearing a short pause from Silas, Yulia chuckled and said, “Please don’t worry, she said many good things about you, especially about how passionate you are.” She lifted her head, smiling shyly.
While Yulia spoke, she looked in Silas’s direction, but he had noticed she would not make eye contact with neither him nor Meredith. Her gaze was fixed, moving only to who was speaking as she listened closely, tilting her head in a relaxed fashion. It was then that Silas realized something, humming in realization.
Yulia, she can’t see me. Silas looked up at Yulia’s face a little more closely, looking into her light colored eyes. Her irises and pupils were hazy, as if colored by a film of sheer grey fabric, but glassy like a crystal. It was not the first time Silas had seen someone’s eyes like this, but he found Yulia was agile and moved as if her vision were completely normal, unhindered by her injury.
Hearing Silas’s surprise, Yulia laughed to herself and turned slightly towards Silas, facing him indirectly as she spoke. “You must have noticed my eyes.” She lifted her finger, touching her cheek just below her eye as she closed them, “I became ill as a child, and eventually I lost my eyesight.” She opened her eyes, the light of the fire flashing against the hazy texture of her pupils. “Sometimes I forget, since I’ve been blind for so long.”
Silas turned to Meredith, curious about her condition before Meredith responded, “Even with the great things elven magic can do, there are limitations.” Meredith spoke quietly, his tone regretful.
Smoothly changing the subject, Meredith prepared a cup of tea for Yulia while Silas asked cautiously, “If you don’t mind me asking, how do you know Eva, Yulia?” He raised his gaze to Yulia, who had her hands out to receive the mug of tea from Meredith. When he placed the edge of the mug in her hands, he whispered a small “careful, it’s hot” as he placed the half-full mug in both of her hands, holding the rim until she tightened her grasp on it.
Gripping the mug firmly, Yulia thanked Meredith and said, “Eva hasn’t told you? I guess she doesn’t talk about me much, hmm?” Yulia laughed as Silas’s face grew red in embarrassment and he mumbled out an apology, “Please don’t be sorry. I’m only teasing you. Eva is usually very private about her personal life, so I’m not surprised she hasn’t mentioned me. With how she speaks about you though, I’m sure she won’t mind if I share a little bit.” Silas’s eyes widened in shock, but Yulia only momentarily paused before she continued, “I met Eva through my older brother, Imre, about fifteen years ago.” Yulia lifted the cup up to her lips and blew on the tea, “She’s my sister in-law.” Yulia stated with a smile, looking warm as she spoke, expressing her relationship with Eva.
Sipping his own tea, Silas heard her words and coughed, spitting out some of his tea as he patted his chest. Meredith sighed, shaking his head as he continued to calmly sip his tea. Yulia laughed as Silas patted his chest, his cheeks flushed red in surprise. “Sorry. I had heard Eva was married, but I was not expecting that..” He said in a low voice. He felt embarrassed, but his surprise was greater.
Yulia shook her head, “It’s alright.” She sipped at her tea quietly, her expression bright, though now slightly darkened. “Eva’s taken care of me since my brother died. She’s a good person.”
As Silas listened closely, Silas felt odd and a little regretful of how he had viewed Eva previously. Though Eva had been hard on Silas, he had feelings of lingering regret, making so many mistakes so early on. Still, through it all, Eva had helped Silas repeatedly, though she complained the whole time she was doing so.
The conversation shifted naturally to Silas’s past. Normally, Silas would find such personal conversations awkward, but Yulia’s soft-spokenness and openness about her background made Silas feel a strange sense of ease around the young woman. Her demeanor was melancholy but gentle, much like Silas when he was young. With the fear of death haunting them at every corner, there was a strange sense of comradery between them. It made Silas want to speak up as well.
The conversation between the two young elves was pleasant, and some time had passed while they spoke. Meredith stood up slowly, using Silas’s shoulder to leverage himself up as he turned to the soft-spoken pair and said, “I’m going to give some tea to Neema and Saoirse. You two, don’t stay up too late. You’re both still recovering.” Though Silas’s injuries were not physical, Meredith kept a close eye on his nephew, monitoring his mental state as if it were his own. Silas would not take proper care of himself otherwise. Not while his family was still missing.
After exchanging wishes of a quiet rest, Meredith grabbed two clean clay mugs and filled them with steaming hot tea. He used his mana to steady them in his hands and walked to the other side of the carriage, slowly disappearing from view.
After Meredith stepped out, Yulia rubbed the rim of the mug with her fingers as she said directly, “Eva told me that you’re looking for your family.”
…
The preparations for the hunt had already begun. Palace attendants moved to and from the castle hastily, maintaining a strict air around them as they worked tirelessly. Even Charlotte, using every means available to her to gain information, was only given a few crumbs from some of the lower-level servants in the palace, those who did not know enough to act trepidly. The rest were too afraid to speak up, in fear of facing strict consequences for disclosing the little information they had known.
When asked about the hunt, the prince would only say, “It would spoil the fun.” The smile on his face was carefree and bright, as if he had been given the perfect present from the sky. The smile on his lips failed to fade with time, and some of the palace attendants even reported him humming a tune under his breath as he walked through the palace halls alone, leaving some to suspect he had truly lost his mind.
The future Yursinean queen candidates were equally anxious, each of them fighting their growing nerves of being removed from the selection. As the days passed, more and more candidates left the palace. There were only seven candidates left in the selection: Princess Charlotte, Marchioness Olicia, Princess Sagara, Countess Annmaria, Duchess Cordelia, Duchess Ophira, and Princess Philomena. Since the ball, many candidates had been sent away, some leaving of their own volition while others were sent away in tears, losing their right to fight for the Yursinean throne. Since the number of candidates had drastically decreased, the girls’ began to divide amongst themselves, forming two groups to protect their interests: the Bethellian supporters and the Vartien supporters.
While Philomena and Sagara had expressed their intentions to assist Charlotte, Olicia had doubts towards the Bethellian princess. Her reaction to Cordelia’s mistake was terrible, gloating at the poor duchess’s error, and Charlotte had just become more anxious and easy to anger with the constant changes in the palace. Had Olicia not sided with the princess, would things have been different? All Olicia could do was protect herself and her interests, even if it meant abandoning her right to fight for the Yursinean throne.
While there was no one in the palace she felt she could truly trust, Olicia thought an early walk around the palace might clear her head. It would give her the time to think about what she truly wanted to do next, be that leaving the palace, or staying until the end of the selection.
After waking herself early, just after the sun had risen, Olicia dressed herself and quietly snaked through the side halls, her hair tied tall in a swaying, simple ponytail behind her head. The dress she wore was more simple than usual, but it made her more mobile, allowing her to quickly run in the direction of the library. Though the castle was large, she was able to remember the general location of the library from her daily walks through the palace. It was always empty early in the morning.
As a group of maids began to get closer to the hall, Olicia quickly looked around before she found her exit. This way. She thought. Holding the front of her dress as she ran, Olicia quickly stepped down a smaller, more compact hallway near the south eastern end of the palace. There was a line of doors, equally spaced, with simple doors and sparse paintings on the wall.
The servants rarely use this passage, so I shouldn’t run into anyone. Olicia had already stirred up enough trouble at the banquet, bumping into Cordelia as she did. All the young woman could do was hope to keep her head low long enough to find Alywin and speak with him about Clarence’s intentions.
As she slowed her steps, quietly hurrying on the tips of her feet, Olicia moved closer to the right side of the hall. As she neared the end of the passage, closing in on a dark, quiet corner, she noticed a door slightly ajar. Olicia slowed her steps to a halt, her gaze falling on the light pouring out from the doorway. There were people inside.
Eavesdropping for a moment, Olicia did not hear a familiar voice. Rather, it was the voice of a Vartien man, most likely one of the nobles serving the king. His lofty, low voice carried a trace of arrogance that made Olicia snort, but her lifted foot was stopped as she heard another voice barely carry outside the room.
“You told me this would be solved! What am I supposed to do now? I’ve been banned from participating in the hunt! It’s only a matter of time before I’m dismissed from the palace!” The shrillness of the voice faintly carried outside the room to Olicia, who had stood stiff to the right side of the door, her feet planted to the ground as she listened.
Cordelia? Olicia’s eyes widened, attempting to peek around the slightly cracked door to see who Cordelia was speaking to.
“Duchess Cordelia, I promised you I would help you, and I will, but you must stop this. Running around the palace like a shrill, weeping wood witch, I’m surprised you haven’t scared away the rest of the candidates with this behavior.” Though Olicia wanted to leave, her curiosity peaked. Olicia moved slightly forward, craning her ears to catch anything that could tell her who was speaking to Cordelia.
“Fix this.” Cordelia said, her shrill voice growing in volume testily.
“I suppose I could try. Maybe an accident at the upcoming hunt would bring you back into the prince’s favor.”
Cordelia gasped, then quickly asked, “Will you kill that Bethellian snake?” Cordelia asked, her tone becoming low and serious.
“I won’t kill anyone. It’d be a shame if one of the candidates did, though. That would be treason, depending on who they killed.” At this response, Cordelia laughed, her hands attempting to smother the crazed laugh that began escaping her lips. This hid the small gasp that escaped Olicia’s lips.
They’re going to kill someone at the hunt? There’s no way I can let this happen. Olicia thought to herself. But who can I tell? Who would believe this crazy story? Olicia’s mind raced as she considered who she could tell. There was no chance she would tell Charlotte. Olicia would not be able to say for sure Charlotte would not let someone be killed to stop Cordelia permanently.
Is there really only him? Olicia groaned to herself as she pressed her back against the wall. Why do I do these things to myself? As the two people in the room began to whisper, Olicia took a deep breath and took another step closer, wanting to catch a hint of who was in the room with Cordelia. To her, it was the only way to make her story seem credible.
As her foot slid forward, the wood under her foot creaked, alerting the co-conspirators behind the door. Olicia’s eyes opened wide in shock as she glanced down at her feet. As hurried whispers seethed behind the cracked door, Olicia considered what to do. When she heard angry footsteps approach the door, it was finally then her feet managed to unglue themselves from the spot they had stuck themselves, and she took off in a run.
…
お久しぶりです！ Hello, all! Hunny and I are finally back. I apologize for the delays, but I’m so happy to be back. Moving has been absolute ass. Work’s been the same. I just had a student come in screaming in my office recently (they got to have a meeting with me), combined with the loss of a good friend of mine for almost 20 years (a loss of friendship, but a relieving loss I think), so I haven’t had time to look at the draft until this past week.
It’s been hard, but it’s life. I’m far more excited about what’s to come in later chapters as we near Clare and Silas’s meeting. As we get closer to the end of the series, I’ll discuss NSFW content then, as well as some other projects of mine (list of teasers on my scribblehub). I really would like to work on our webtoon, DilNor, but let’s see what happens. The YMtK webtoon is outside my skill level (it hurts ;x; ) currently.
Your encouragement means a lot to us, so please feel free to drop your thoughts! They keep Hunny and I working! 😀 Thank you all again for your patience, see you all Saturday! ♥♥
A sorry state for that elf to be in.