Chapter 32

12.2K 899 24
                                    

 The Onyx Aerie had changed. Once it was busy and strictly ordered, filled with elaborate treasure, wealth and servants. Now shadows hung over broken buildings and crumbling walls. Statues portraying great Dragon Lord ancestors and heroic deeds stood limbless or headless along the main streets; defeat of what had been a proud heritage. Even the wall that once separated the Shifter residences from the rest of the aerie had broken in places, an ugly scar for an ugly reminder. The abandoned streets were littered with debris. The edges filled with dust and leaves and the refuse of wild animals.

The new delegation, a long line of Dragon Lords and Shifter warriors, followed by the remains of the Onyx Aerie pack, was encouraged forward by a very young Onyx Lord. Hardly old enough to be given such a responsibility. The mutiny must have rendered the Onyx Lords desperate, which would also explain their eager acceptance of the Onyx pack's return.

I looked to Cillumn at my side. Dressed in the finery of the Lords, clean shaven and hair bound tightly. Hells he was a handsome man, one I had seen without clothes often enough that I didn't have to imagine what lay beneath the impeccable material. He hadn't balked when I insisted on coming for the reunion of peoples. I was grateful too. I would have found a way to come anyway, but it was relieving not to have to fight for it.

He had, however, insisted on a great deal of protection. So much that I wondered how the Onyx Lords could help but feel that we were an invading force rather than a peaceful commission.

The echoes of our footsteps proceeded us to doors that had been ripped from the main hall, and I gaped as we entered. When the pack lived there I hardly had reason to enter this building, but the few times I had I remembered opulence and the feeling of great importance of the room. Now it was nothing but empty remains. The rich tapestries that had hung along the walls were gone, as were the soft carpets. Many of the windows were missing too, gaping openings left in their wake. It was clean however, the stone scrubbed and polished.

A group of Lords awaited on the dais. They too were clean, if dressed more simply than the Lords of my memory.

We halted before them and I studied the man at the forefront. The new Archon. He would be responsible for the remains of my people. I hadn't been able to save a single victim of the possession process. Through isolation only was the pack now free of threat. Yet watching Shifter after Shifter forfeit their lives as they became aggressive and mindless had cost my heart a great deal. Enough that I felt the need to do something to ensure they had a better chance here.

"Greetings, Lord Archon. May your rule be more successful than your predecessor," Dynarys, one of the Lords who insisted on coming along began. Even to my ears his speech was harsh and accusing.

The Archon, an ancient looking man, with enough silver through his hair and eyebrows to rival the moon, frowned, black eyes flashing. His displeasure was well contained though and he forced a smile. He waved an arm in a welcoming gesture, the robes of black and gold swung with the movement, then, with a stooped gait he approached the group.

"Amber Aerie Lords," he spoke. "It is with hearty welcome that we thank you for guiding our Shifter pack back to their rightful place." He gestured to the Shifters. "Together, I hope we might rebuild our once great home into an Aerie worthy of honor and praise. It has been too long since it was such." He eyed the gathering before him and then returned his attention to the Lords. "You will forgive us, though, for our lack of hospitality. As reduced as we are we cannot tolerate your presence for long, we ask, respectfully, that all that belong to the Amber Aerie leave at dawn."

I stiffened. How was that for a thank you? It took all day to travel to this aerie and we would not be allowed to stay past dawn.

The Lords of the Amber Aerie were not as surprised as I. Not one even raised an eyebrow in distress.

The Dragon's RogueWhere stories live. Discover now