Chapter 01 The Aftermath
To my counsellor, most of my teachers and friends, this series wouldn’t have been written without your support.
Content Warning: This chapter contains graphic violence, including descriptions of a massacre, child death, and implied sexual violence. It also features themes of grief and trauma. Reader discretion is advised.
John ran as fast as a boy of eight could, behind him, two fully grown men in the red of House Lancaster were chasing him from behind. He had overheard the two soldiers chatting and laughing together. When he had attempted to slip away, they spotted him and started the chase to prevent him from telling anyone what he had heard.
“Don’t let him get away!” one soldier shouted to the other.
“What do you think I’m trying to do, you big twat?” the other retorted, glaring at the bigger soldier.
John made a sharp turn down an alleyway, concentrating on moving faster than the two soldiers who were pursuing him.
“Ah, shit. This little runt knows his way around, that’s for certain,” the smaller soldier grumbled more to himself than to his comrade.
John dashed past a small alcove where two other Lancaster soldiers were cornering a young woman in a blue dress. He hoped they hadn’t noticed him, but his hopes were dashed when the larger soldier called out to them, “Hey, leave the wench and get that bloody boy!” In an instant, instead of two soldiers pursuing him, John now had four.
He sprinted and turned down several alleyways and narrow streets before making a turn onto Market Road. John knew he was just a few streets away from Dragon’s Road. He grinned and picked up speed as the four soldiers caught up to him, cursing under their breath as they ran after him. John then veered onto Dragon’s Road and set his sights on the Sleeping Dragon Inn.
About halfway there, two large men stepped out of the shadows, and John came to a halt in front of them. Dressed in dark clothing, he spotted knives and daggers hanging from their belts, along with swords suspended from their hips. He didn’t recognise them until one spoke up.
“Where are you off to, little buddy?” one of them asked.
“Sage! I was trying to get to the Inn and lose a tail,” John replied as the four soldiers turned onto Dragons Road.
“That the tail you’re talking about, son?” the second man, Dav, inquired.
“Yeah…” John responded, slightly uncertain.
“You run along; we’ll handle them,” Sage said, giving John a reassuring pat on the shoulder before he and Dav stepped past him towards the four soldiers approaching. As John jogged towards the Inn, he heard Sage’s voice call out, “There a problem, boys?”
John carried on jogging towards and then around the Inn to the back, where two men stood guard at the door. They allowed him in without a second glance. John then headed up the stairs into the attic. When he reached the attic door, he opened it and went inside.
The attic was well-lit with torches along the walls. At the far end was a desk and chair. The desk had a few papers and candles on it. Sitting in the chair with her head lying on the desk was a young woman. She appeared to be in her early twenties; her hair was dark, she had fair skin, and she appeared to be asleep.
“Excuse me, milady?” John said softly, hoping to wake her without startling the woman.
The woman made a “hmmm?” sound as she lifted her head and looked at him. With her eyes open, John could see her ice-cold blue eyes that gave people the creeps. When her eyes focused on him, John saw recognition go through her now-focused eyes.
“John?” she croaked, “What’s happened? You wouldn’t wake a woman from her sleep unless something important has happened.” John could hear the concern in her voice.
“It’s the Lancaster soldiers, milady. I overheard two of them at the docks talking…” he told her, trying to figure out how he should tell her, “about Runestone…”
“What about Runestone?” the woman pressed, her voice firm.
“They… they were talking about…”
“About?”
“They attacked Runestone!” John then exclaimed, “They killed everyone there. Victoria, Lord Bran, Lord Johnson Rosegarden, everyone! They said something about a Nightingale girl.”
The woman’s face went pale as she listened to what he had told her before swearing. John stepped back in surprise; the only people he had ever heard use words like those were sailors.
She then stood up and smoothed down her long, grey dress, which had long sleeves fitted to her arms and a shallow neckline that barely revealed her collarbone. The top half of the dress was tailored to her body, while the bottom half flowed loosely. A slim leather belt cinched her waist. She pulled open a drawer in the desk, placed the papers inside, and retrieved a small bag of coppers. Then she drew a gold piece from the drawer and added it to the bag. Tossing the bag to him, she walked briskly around the desk towards the attic door, where she grabbed a dark cloak that hung alongside a satchel. She strolled out, slinging the satchel strap over her head and draping the cloak across her shoulders.
A few weeks later.
Lady Ash of House Raven stood on a ridge, gazing down at the ruins of Runestone. Beside her stood Jyn Darkside and her mother, their expressions grim and unreadable. All three were clad in dark pants, tunics and cloaks. Behind them, the elven fighters given to Ash by her uncle waited in silence, their dark cloaks shifting with the cold wind.
Below, the castle smouldered, a broken husk of what had once been a stronghold. Smoke curled from the remains of burnt ships in the bay, their blackened hulls jutting from the water like shattered bones. The air reeked of charred wood, rotting flesh, and blood long dried in the sun.
They descended the ridge, moving cautiously toward the castle. As they drew closer, torn Silverstone banners flapped weakly in the wind—a last, defiant symbol among the ruins. Most were blackened by fire, others barely more than rags.
Then they saw the beach.
Ash heard her mother gasp, a sharp breath swallowed by the wind.
Bodies. Hundreds of them. The shore was a graveyard, littered with arrows, swords, shields and the dead, their corpses left to rot beneath the sun. The sand, once pale, was stained dark with old blood, the tide whispering against bodies bloated from decay.
Above them, the crows circled. Some dived down, tearing at flesh. Others stood in clusters, feasting. A few paused in their work to watch the newcomers with glassy, black eyes.
Ash looked at the other two women. Her mother had her hands clasped over her mouth. Jyn, on the other hand, had barely reacted, only pressing a few fingers against her nose to block the smell. Her expression remained blank, and her ice-cold blue eyes portrayed nothing.
The group continued towards the castle, stepping over and around the bodies of Lancaster soldiers and Silverstone men-at-arms. They made their way to the stone stairway carved into the cliff face up to an entrance into the castle and ascended the steps.
The carnage continued inside. The halls were littered with bodies and discarded weapons. Many of the bodies were Lancaster soldiers, but the majority were Silverstone men-at-arms. As they delved deeper into the castle, the number of bodies in almost every hall and corridor began to decrease.
They eventually came across Victoria, lying on the stone floor, her dull, dead eyes staring at the ceiling. A crossbow bolt protruded from her back, the tip jutting from her chest. Around her was a pool of dark, thick, dried blood that had left stains in the stone. Not far from her was a man in silver armour with a crossbow bolt in his chest, and a Lancaster soldier in their red armour slumped against the wall with a sword in his stomach.
Ash knelt next to Victoria and closed the dead woman’s eyes as Jyn did the same for the man in silver armour. The three women and Ash’s fighters then continued on. It wasn’t long before they found a group of dead Lancasters and Ash’s brother.
As soon as they rounded the corner and saw Bran lying there, gashes and cuts all over him, Ash’s mother bolted forward. She dropped to her knees beside her son’s body, clutching his head to her chest as tears rolled down her cheeks. Moments later, the scream of a heartbroken mother echoed through the silent stone halls and corridors.
Ash stood frozen for a long moment, then moved forward to her mother and dead brother. She knelt next to her and reached out hesitantly and touched Bran’s face. As soon as she felt cold skin, she pulled her hand back and hugged her crying mother.
Behind them, Jyn slumped against a wall, bringing a shaking hand to her face as she slid to the floor. She covered her mouth to stop herself from screaming as she cried. The elven fighters with them silently lowered their heads and put their right fists to their left shoulder in salute of a fallen fellow kin.
Jyn, after a while, got up and left the two other women, a couple of elven fighters followed her. Not that she cared. Jyn walked the corridors and halls and found herself coming across Lord George Eagle’s body. Crossbow bolts sticking out of Victoria’s consort’s body. In his arms was a young girl, also dead. Victoria’s firstborn child, Princess Isabella.
Just a few corridors down from George and his daughter was the body of Scarlet Nightingale. Upon seeing her body, Jyn understood why the two Lancaster soldiers, her informant John, were laughing about the girl. She lay on the ground, her dress ripped open. Her legs spread apart in and awkward positions of struggle. Next to her was a Lancaster soldier with her hairpin in his throat. Jyn knew what the nightingale girl had been put through. Jyn knew because she, herself, had been on the receiving end of it twice. She turned and walked back in the direction of Ash in disgust.
Jaysn Smokestar stood at the bow of the Liberty, Kaitlyn Strange at his side. The two looked out over the water at the southern coast of Shadland as a hidden cove revealed itself. As the Liberty glided forward, docks came into view on the far shore. A group of figures stood waiting.
Jaysn smiled when he saw the sigil on the flag one of the figures was holding: a white star on a black field.
“Is that…?” Kaitlyn asked.
“Yep, that’s Elisabeth,” Jaysn responded.
As the ship approached the docks, the two could see the group more clearly. At the forefront stood a woman in a black dress and coat. Just to Eilsabeth’s left and slightly behind her was a man in a red coat, similar to Eilsabeth’s. Behind them were two younger women in blue coats. Standing behind the four mages were six guards.
As soon as the liberty was docked, mooring lines were thrown, and the gangway set up. Jaysn stepped onto the dock, followed by Kaitlyn, Alan and Alanna. As soon as Jasyn was on the dock, Elisabeth shot forward into Jaysn, wrapping her arms around him. He wrapped his arms around her, returning the hug. “I’ve missed you, too.”
As the two hugged, Jaysn noticed the dark-haired man in the red mage coat holding Elisabeth’s cane. Looking back at Elisabeth, he looked more closely at her mage coat. It was black with shadow embroidery in a different shade of black. The two broke away, and one of the girls in blue stepped forward.
“Good to see you, Master Smokestar.” She had black hair that she had tied back and hazel eyes. She was about fifteen and roughly five foot three, maybe four.
“And you, Miss Wepster,” Jasyn said.
“We only have a few hours of sun left, so we should get going,” the man in the red coat said, handing the cane to Elisabeth. The six guards stepped to the side so everyone could walk past them. Once everyone was off of the dock and Alan and Alanna mounted up on one of the horses Elisabeth and her friends had brought with them, Jaysn took Elisabeth and the man in red aside.
“Would you care to introduce us?” he asked his former apprentice.
“This, Jaysn,” she told him, “is Liam Collens. Liam, Jaysn Smokestar.”
Liam held out his hand to Jaysn, “A pleasure to meet you, sir.”
“And you,” Jaysn took his hand, and the two shook.
“Lilibet’s told me a fair bit about you,” Liam told Jaysn as the group started walking away from the couple of docks.
“Has she?” Jaysn inquired, then looked at Elisabeth with a raised eyebrow, “Lilibet?”
Elisabeth shrugged at his raised eyebrow. “He came up with it, not me.”
“Oh, just tell him already!” the second girl in blue called out from a little bit ahead of them with the Wepster girl.
“Yeah! What Isla said!” Lucy Wepster added as Kaitlyn came up holding the reins of the horse the kids were mounted on.
“What’s this commotion about?” she asked, looking at Elisabeth, who looked down to hide her blush.
“They’re lovers!” the girl called Isla called back, and Jaysn cracked up laughing.
“How long a trek is this going to be?” Kaitlyn asked, trying not to laugh.
“Just round these hills,” Elisabeth replied.
“How long have you been here?” Jaysn asked once he’d stopped laughing.
“We’ve been here a few days”, Liam replied.
After about ten minutes of walking, they came around a hill and entered a small village. They continued down the main road through the village to the castle on the other side. The castle itself was more a tower with outbuildings surrounded by a wall and ditch.
Evelyn sat in a cushioned chair with her legs crossed on the balcony of the ravendark chambers, engrossed in her book. She wore a silver-grey dress with long, loose, thin sleeves and a respectable high V neckline. Her raven-black hair was braided back away from her neck. The dress’s bodice was lightly fitted, while the lower part flowed loosely. She occasionally looked up over Dragonheart’s city before returning to her book.
Lord Alliser Ravendark watched his daughter from the table inside the main chamber. Next to him sat his wife, Lady Ellisa. The two watched as Evelyn blissfully read her book. Across from them sat Selene, an ancient spirit that had been bound to their family for hundreds of years. Her form was that of a young woman; she had long silver hair that cascaded down her back like liquid moonlight. Her eyes were like nebulae filled with ancient knowledge. She wore a white flowing dress that gave her a ghostly look.
Alliser exhaled slowly before rising to his feet, Ellisa following a heartbeat later. The two walked over to the balcony. They had been pondering over what they were about to tell her for the last few weeks.
Ellisa spoke first, “Evelyn, dear, we need to talk to you.”
Evelyn looked up, marked her page, and closed the book with deliberate care. Resting it in her lap, she folded her hands neatly on top “Yes? What is it?”
“I’m sorry, my dear, I really am,” Allister said.
“Father?” she asked, confused.
“The Queen Mother and her brother, Lord Harold, approached us a few weeks ago with a proposal,” Ellisa told her daughter.
Recognition flashed in Evelyn’s eyes. Her fingers tensed slightly over the book before she lowered her gaze, turning it toward the bay. “They want me to marry King James?” she then asked
“Yes…” Allister confirmed,
“When?” she asked softly
“They’ve allowed for a year. For you two to get to know each other,” Ellisa said.
“That’s something, at least,” Evelyn murmured as she stared out at the bay, her gaze landing on the nine warships the Ravendarks had brought south.
King James strolled into the council chamber flanked by his mother, Queen Mother Rosealean Lancaster, and his uncle Lord Harold Lancaster as two guards in the red of House Lancaster opened the heavy oak doors. Every lord in attendance rose to their feet as King James entered.
He moved to his seat at the head of the table as his uncle and mother moved to their seats on either side of his. Once he was at his seat, he sat down, and the silent chamber was filled with the sound of all the lords following suit, settling back into their seats.
“Your grace,” Lord Harrington spoke, “I think it’s time we addressed a matter of importance.”
“And what matter would that be, my Lord Hand?”
“That of your marriage to Lady Evelyn Ravendark. Your Grace,” Harrington replied.
James pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh, for the seven hells…” He muttered. “Are we seriously going back to this…”
“Fine,” he then said, waving his hand, “what is the council’s stance on this bloody marriage my mother and uncle have arranged?”
“It is a good match, Your Grace,” Grand Councillor Aemon said softly. “She is only a few months older than you, which means she will be easier to guide. She hails from the most powerful house in the realm. A union with her, and by extension the North, will demonstrate to the lords of the realm that your reign will be one of stability and strength.”
“On the other hand,” Lord Edward of House Manchester countered, “if she were to get her nails into you, Your Grace, and influence your decisions, it would make her father the true king in all but name.”
A low chuckle came from the other side of the table.
“And what of the other risks?” Lord Petyr Edwards, the Master of Ships, interjected. His fingers tapped lightly against the wooden table. “House Ravendark arrived in the capital with a fleet—three first-rates and six frigates, nine warships. That was merely an escort, yet it was enough to remind us of the strength they wield. If they were to turn against us, their navy could challenge our own. And I haven’t even mentioned their army.”
“fifteen thousand strong, if I recall.” Lord Commander Harren said, “And that’s before they call their banners. Once they call their banners… two hundred thousand.”
“Which is why we proposed the marriage!” James’s mother called out loudly, “A marriage with their daughter and heir would secure their loyalty. Even if they aren’t loyal to the king, they will be loyal to Evelyn. And we can make sure she is loyal to His Grace.”
James leaned back in his chair, running his hand through his golden hair. “Gods…” he muttered under his breath as his mother and the other lords argued.
“My Lords!” Lord Harold yelled, causing the council chamber to go silent, then more softly he said, “Why don’t we get Lady Evelyn to go on the upcoming tour with His Grace. And see how it goes with them spending a month or two together.”
The lords looked at each other, and all agreed that it sounded good.
“Well,” James exhaled, “if that is all. I am going to go get a drink and some fresh air.” He stood up and strolled out as Lord Harrington leaned back and stared at the ceiling with a long sigh.
