Rayna and I plugged our ears as the cannons fired, trying not to flinch with every blast.
All of the servants and guards stood opposite to us, dressed crisply in their uniforms. They were packed tightly together, but still the crowd of them was so large it overflowed down the hill. The blues and golds of their uniforms matched the flags of Arce on the gentle slopes just behind them, at half mast.
I stood with the smaller side of the congregation, a sea of black. All of the heritors were asked to come. Not only did this man protect us with his life, honoring a fallen soldier was something we all needed to learn to do. We weren't really asked.
The Headmaster stood between the two groups, closest to the body laid upon a wooden cot and covered in a burial shroud. The flurries which floated down from the overcast sky landed on her black hair, contrasting sharply against it. But she didn't so much as shiver as she led the ceremony.
The Lieutenant, Ser Kellen, approached the shrouded body. The Headmaster opened a small metallic box, lined with velvet and held it out to the knight. He carefully reached in and pulled out the single golden dragon scale.
Using his thumb, he pressed the scale to the forehead of the covered body. "Be quiet now," he said to the soldier.
Orange wisps of magic slowly flowed out from the dragon scale. Gentle flicks of flames, curling around the shroud, but not burning the Lieutenant's hand. The magic completely covered the body, glowing a warm peaceful orange. Just then, a wind swirled up the side of the hill. I pulled my scarf closer as it swept through the crowd, catching the body as it dissolved into glowing embers. Carried up and off into the sky.
The Castilander servants each took out some type of strip of cloth. Old handkerchiefs, ribbons, strings of yarn held aloft. The fabric caught the wind, all fluttering above their heads like a rippling patchwork flag. A last wave goodbye to a good soul, as it drifted up into the other side.
A long, thoughtful silence fell like the snow as we watched the last of the embers disappear amongst the clouds.
The dragon's scale was placed carefully back into its box and the Headmaster thanked everyone for coming. The servant crowd started to disperse, heading back to the Servants Quarters for the wake. The heritors drifted down the hill as well, back to the dorms to pack. Winter break was ordered early for the students' safety. I counted the size of my classmate's crowd as they disappeared down the path. How many of them would be returning?
A thick black wool cloak drifted up next to me. The Headmaster looked down at the students returning to Arce as well. In her hands was the velvet box, locked again and held securely in her iron grip. Her grey eyes turned to me, I could make out the bags under them, despite the makeup that tried to cover it. "Walk with me?"
I did.
The flurries were starting to gather on the grass now, making the mess of footprints stand out like a ghost procession.
"Your father sent word. He's coming to pick you and your brother and sister up himself. He said he was in Endel on business, so he'll be here in two days."
I nodded, tucking my nose down into my scarf, my breath fogging up my glasses.
"Are-are you okay, dear?" The Headmaster paused, causing me to stop as well.
I bit my lip. "Is he dead?"
Her silver eyes hardened. "Yes."
Like the hippogriff? "Are there going to be more?"
Her breath caught. I could see the answers run through her head: No, it's over now. Lie. Yes, but we'll keep you safe. Impossible to promise. Maybe, but you shouldn't be worrying about this. Dismissing.
YOU ARE READING
Royal Guard Book 1: The Servant
Fantasy(Arce Academy is a school for heirs, but there are secrets hidden behind these walls. And people are willing to die and kill for them.) I lived in a land of myth, magic, and monsters. And there was one monster who was more terrible than any beast. R...
