Never Yours ✔️

Ch. 24

It was the middle of the next day when they saw the riders. It was odd seeing them in the day, and they looked like figures of night standing upon a nearby hill on their black horses with their black cloaks. They never approached this time, just watched, far up on the hill, dark spots in the gleaming sun.

Kryssa watched them in fear as they rode past. Arysa did nothing to assuage her worries. Any second the riders could change their minds and descend upon the two of them. And even if they couldn't hurt Arysa, they could still hurt Kryssa. But the riders never moved and soon they were out of sight.

"Who were they?" Kryssa breathed.

"I don't know." Arysa replied. "And I pray I never do."

They rode hard all throughout the next day and took a break that night. Arysa couldn't sleep and sat watch while Kryssa rested. Then they were back to riding again and they got to Raida with the sun just barely peaking over the treetops.

"It's beautiful." Kryssa exclaimed in awe, staring up at the city sprawled across the mountain side and the gleaming stone castle at its top.

"It was." Arysa replied.

They approached the city gates and the guards stirred as they saw Arysa. She heard their hurried whispers, saw as they rushed about, and something inside of her twisted. She almost reigned in her horse and turned around, but she couldn't. There were things she needed to do here, people she needed to save. She couldn't back down now.

The guards raised the gates as they approached and they rode inside where a ring of guards awaited them.

"What's going on?" Kryssa whispered.

Arysa felt a cold pit in her stomach. "Just cooperate, understand? Don't fight back."

Kryssa looked at her startled, and Arysa spurred her horse forward into the center of the ring of guards. She dismounted and stepped towards General Whitevine.

He looked at her regretfully as he spoke.

"We will need your weapons, Lady."

She unclipped her sword from her belt and handed it to the guard at his side. She unsheathed all three of her daggers and gave them up. Two guards stepped up and took their place beside her.

"This way, Lady." General Whitevine turned and led the way to the castle.

None of them paid any mind to Kryssa standing by the gates with her horse. She didn't speak and Arysa didn't look back.

When they reached the throne room, the guards at her side fell away and opened the doors. General Whitevine stood still outside the doorway. He motioned for her to go ahead, and she raised her head and walked inside.

Serden Dreadroot stood alone in front of the throne, swathed in his black robes. He said nothing as she approached, his piercing yellow eyes following her every movement.

She stopped in the middle of the throne room and he finally spoke.
"You came back."

"You knew I would." Her voice was quiet.

"You're injured." He'd noticed the slight limp she walked with.

"Nothing that can't be healed."

He paused, his eyes locking with hers. She stared back at him evenly, unrelenting.

"You know about the mystic arts." He said plainly. There was no point in trying to hide it anymore.

"Yes." She replied.

"The Vella taught you." None of his words were questions. He already knew all the answers.

"Yes."