The Revenant Queen 2 (wlw)

Chapter Eighteen

Oliver's face was to the floor the second he was placed in the centre. He looked at his shoes and at the creases within them while his brown eyes laid worried and watered. The revenant didn't want to recount anything, he didn't want to relive that horrible experience just so people could make loose decisions that would never impact him. But he needed to, for his sake and the sake of all the revenants and Queen Adira.

So he swallowed or at least attempted to, all his fears and worries until they settled within the pit of his stomach and how they caused his belly to churn. He felt sick, so deathly ill and there was nothing that could've quelled the unrest inside of his body.

"Take your time, young man," a voice within the crowd of elders said and at the sound of it, Oliver rose his head. He saw the weathered eyes of the many councilmembers and he felt the eyes of all the others on him. He too felt like a spectacle, a muse, a poppet or a doll there to entertain and in the eyes of so many, he wanted to disappear, vanish within thin air.

But he couldn't, he had a duty to fulfil.

"I...don't know where to start," he mumbled. "My thoughts are all over at this point,"

"How about the beginning." Said the sharpest voice in that impressive building.

"That night of the massacre, what did you see first? We can start there," answered Isabella, already tired of the long pauses and dramatic delays. She didn't want to be there all night and possibly into the next morning waiting for some child to tell his side of the very horrible story. She needed there to be action and immediately.

"Isabella, please be empathic, the young man has been through a lot." Said Marabel.

"I understand but time is of the essence." She responded. "No one wants to sit here all night waiting for him to tell us what we already know. How about this.." the older devil got up once more. Isabella walked over to the table Oliver sat by and when she reached him, in his eyes she didn't see fear as most people would exude but she saw sadness and pain. It worried her that someone could be that broken and scarred and for once she felt guilt and concern but they dissipated quickly, leaving behind a cold, distant, ironwoman.

"Instead of recounting the entire tragedy, putting yourself through even more trauma, just tell us if you could remember the faces of the attackers from that night. All we need, no, all I need is a slight description of only one of them and I'll find them all. They will be brought to us, prosecuted and justice will soon follow as everyone who was in the wrong is accosted one by one. Here I stand, volunteering myself as the one to find them all."

At those words, and finally, Edas and the siblings, Castiel and Calais along with his wife shivered in their seats. They knew who Isabella was, they knew what she was capable of and quickly they tried to leave the room but Oliver pointed Edas out the second he stood.

His clawed finger, though trembling, laid straight ahead and at the discoloured nails pointing in his direction the man grimaced.

"That man." He said without holding eye contact with the vampire. There was an eerie silence as everyone waited and was sure they heard it all before there came hurling, their disapproval and condemnation.

"He was the one to lead the attack," continued Oliver.

And there were murmurs suddenly as all eyes pinned on the ostentatious vampire whose jaw flexed incessantly at the toxic attention he received. He was worried for several seconds, but then his cool boy exterior took over. The narcissist who was tucked beneath his skin saw that it was their time to shine and came out in full swing.

Edas smirked in the faces of the elders and other onlookers.

"Must we believe the words of a fella with questionable sanity?"