Open Chronicles The Return Of The Queen

[Vairos]

Cheering. Rejoicing. For what?

Vairos could stand by the queen's decision to engage in mass conquest, he could be made to feel alive by it.

These choices in her Queensguard were...fine, he supposed. The first two were obvious choices, women of great repute, heroes in their own ways. The last one was...the worm who made demands of him earlier.

Hmph. Vairos had not been present at whatever battle the worm had. He could not speak to its strength. Only that its presence did not impress him. But then, very little did.

Vairos stood among the crowd expressionless and still. Perhaps one day he might get to test the worm for himself, to see if it deserved its place far above the bedrock. For now he merely watched with a cold-blooded stare and an unmoved expression. No chanting, no cheering, just observing.

 

[Sazalam]

It took five long and world changing seconds for Sazalam to catch up to what had happened. In fairness, he would have sooner expected rain than this.

"What...?"

He was hanging from a lamp post with a cup of wine in his hand and the cheering was for him. For him?
At some point he stepped down from the wall and straightened up. Someone, darkness bless them, took the goblet from his hand as he made his way slowly forward with a look that was utterly bemused by the situation. Had he been drugged? Was the wine spiked?

This was not reality, this was... only one other had ever... and well that was extraordinary circumstances.

Thought's half finished clouded his mind and the cheering mob of encouragement deafened his senses so much that he did not even feel the ground beneath his feet by the time he breached the crowd and began to walk as if mesmerised into the centre of the plaza.

He did not deserve this. His body screamed, his muscles fought him. This was trick he was going to be killed. They heard, someone heard, someone knew THEY ALL KNEW AND NOW HE WAS GOING TO DIE IN SHAME AND...

Zathria's voice cut through the din of his thoughts and reached him. His name, she was saying his name, his real name not the pet one. Loudly, she was shouting it as loud as anyone else, maybe louder or so it seemed to his twitching ears.

The short walk lasted a lifetime and his eyes cast themselves downward and though he did not seem to be able to look anywhere with focus he knelt at her feet, head low to reveal the back of his neck to his Queen. As he had done when he first met Zathria.
If this was some trick to kill him, he would die as he lived. In perfect duty though as the seconds dragged he realised the crowd had been hushed and when the blade did not come and silence failed to turn to mockery he realised perhaps the worst of all truths was upon him.

This was all really happening.

The first words clogged his throat like flea's cotton.

"My Queen..."
He could barely hear himself even over the silence.

"MY QUEEN, I AM NOT WORTHY TO RECIEVE SUCH HONOURS, LET ALONE KNEEL BEFORE YOU IN THIS PLACE AT THIS HOUR BEFORE MY BETTERS..."
How else was he to start his vow?

"BUT SAY THE WORD AND IT SHALL BE SO. BY YOUR GRACE I SHALL BE LIFTED IN HUMILITY TO SERVE ANEW THIS KINGDOM, THE DARK-MOTHER AND YOUR HIGHNESS!"

Unsure of whether to stand or not he waited with bent body for some thing, some sign that he was not making a fool of himself before Darkness and all.

Vyx'aria Zathria At'Arel Xunari Auceus Tyrnael Myrlochar Zairyn Hebemarri Kiyari Vel'duith Azrakar