Page 114 of A Sword of Ice
The parts that had been made of wood and metal had twisted, crumbled, while other parts melted into a molten pool against the earth.
A group of humans rode up to the charred remnants of the emperor’s precious camp and dismounted the horses, their metal armor the only noise piercing the air.
The tallest of them all led the group forward, his boots crunching against ashes and fragments of bone and flesh, clinging to the metal of a uniform. He kicked at it with disgust and continued to prowl through the debris.
“Captain!” the voice of one of his soldiers called out. He turned and saw the man waving at him from across the camp. “Come look at this, sir!”
He took his time closing the distance between them. Once he did, he was able to see what the commotion was about.
Men gathered around him, gasping and gagging at the sight.
The captain didn’t. He was used to the unpleasant scent of charred flesh and the sight mangled bodies. Of blood and innards hanging from slit skin. He’d seen battle, had fought in many.
A burnt, still alive and wheezing body was hardly reason to lose the contents of your stomach over.
“Can you speak?” he asked with something that sounded like bored disinterest. At least, it did to the men at his command. He could all but feel the looks they gave one another behind his back.
They all thought their captain unfeeling, sometimes a bit manic.
The truth didn’t lie in either of those things.
“H-h-hy-e-sss.” The wheezing reply was enough for him.
“What happened?”
“F-F-Fae…”
“Well, that much is obvious.” His eyes darted around the camp. Why else did the dying fool think he was here? To save his life? Surely not. No, the captain was here for someone far more interesting.
A female with fire dancing in her veins.
He almost smiled at the thought of her.
“S-Seelie Prince.”
The captain’s gaze slammed back on the dying man. He observed him more closely. The grotesque flesh melted to muscle and the smallest hint of bone beneath. Metal was already pooling against his body. Just a single glimpse was enough to tell the captain that this man didn’t have very long to live.
“You have served the emperor well with this information,” he said. It would please Emperor Laurel to know that his precious fire Fae Elemental was being harbored by the Seelie Prince.
His hand lowered to graze against the still hot, ashy ground.
And she was being unleashed.
The dying man began wheezing, and the captain thought they were his last breaths until he realized it was laughter.
“I-I-I g-got it.”
The captain’s brows pulled together. Was the man falling into hysteria because of the pain? He wouldn’t be surprised. It had happened often enough in situations like this.
It was a soldier at his back who asked, “Got what?”
“H-h-his blood!” His fingers twitched. “I g-g-got the Seelie Prince’s blood.”
The captain’s eyes widened, and something that felt a lot like success and malice came alive in his veins. It was a feeling of rebirth and conquest. Of good things yet to come.
“Where?” he demanded softly.
The man’s fingers twitched again in the direction off to the side. He didn’t have to bark the order out for his men to know what to do. They began digging through the debris, wincing and exclaiming as the hot embers touched their skin. But eventually, they emerged with a sword that was still intact. It was charred in a few places, but it had been buried beneath enough debris to remain safe.
