The Ones Who Shouldn't Be (The Emerald Queen)

This story does not relate to the prompt but instead is the prologue of a novel I am working on called The Emerald Queen. Hope you enjoy this sneak preview!

Warning - This story contains death

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To the two men, the night held mystery to all, comfort to none. They stood, dead silent, in a sort of terse agreement. A messenger hesitant to recite the words to his master that would change his life forever.

The messenger coughed suddenly and bounced his leg against the table, leaning against it for support. He was tall, with the body of a wrestler and hair as dark as the sky in the absence of starlight. His eyes, however, belonged to a man with secrets by the dozen and fright to spare. His eyes nervously darted from side to side, his hands gripping the desk tighter and tighter until his knuckles turned white. 

A wispy voice slurred from the silhouette near the window, “Are you all done, Mr. Capps?” 

The man who was called Capps straightened violently, eyes wide, staring ahead at the tall skinny figure whose back he faced. Moonlight slipped through the cracks of the window illuminating the boy in icy light. 

“Yes, Sir.”

The figure at the window slowly turned around revealing a youthful face, no more than 16 years. He was something out of a fantasy, dark tousled hair, perfect teeth, and a lean body. He smiled knowingly, no sincerity in his expression. Though his face remained young, his dark eyes were bottomless pits of knowledge, burdened by the weight they carried. Capps was captivated by his eyes. Nothing else mattered, he would serve his master. Great master. I will serve you. 

“Get up,” the boy’s sharp voice snapped. 

Capps blinked and the spell was broken. He felt blistering cold on his calves and looked down, shocked to see black ice creeping up around his legs. He looked up in surprise and saw the boy smiling. His eyes were glowing black, swallowing up his pupils while his hands were poised in front of him like a serpent preparing to strike. But perhaps he already has. The ice had stopped moving.

Capps placed his hands in front of him on the slippery unnatural ice and slowly pulled his legs out of their prison. His first attempt at standing was thwarted, his legs too numb with cold, but his second try prevailed, the boy’s empty eyes silently watching. 

“This is more to my liking,” the boy walked closer to him. He moved like a panther, gracefully and silently but deadly. “Now, what did you learn?”

Capps gulped, intimidated by the boy despite being several inches taller. He was unable to decide where to look while addressing his master. Certainly not his eyes, they were too distracting. He finally decided on his feet. 

He took a deep calming breath and started, “The city was annihilated like you instructed. No survivors. But..” 

His eyes remained closed. He could tell his master’s patience was waning. Cold sweat ran down his back as he continued in a whisper. 

“But…We’ve heard rumors that some of them left before we came.” 

“What!”

The boy’s cold mask had vanished, replaced with fiery anger, “You idiot! I needed their kind to be wiped off the Earth! You couldn’t follow one simple instruction.”

“We…we tried, master, ev…everything in the city was destroyed. But…but according to the records, some went missing about a week before we attacked”

His voice dripped with accusatory malice, “Were they warned?”

“There was no…no way they could have known.”

“Then why did they leave!”

Capps opened his eyes and saw the boy standing mere feet in front of him. The boy’s face was contorted into a grimace and ice radiated off him in deadly spikes. One spear sliced through the leg of Capps’ pants sending a warm trickle of blood down his ankle. He barely noticed, focusing instead on surviving the danger before him. 

When the boy spoke his voice was icy, yet somehow still full of fire. It sent chills down Capps’ spine.

“Well, have you found them?”

Capps’ heart quickened. He knew his life was balanced on the careful precision of his answers. 

“We..we tried sir, but it’s almost impossible to track them. They would blend in with the others effortlessly. They could even change their names. I’m afraid they could even…”

“Even what? Careful what you say to me.”

Capps shivered. He knew telling the boy the truth would risk his life but he was not one to lie, even in the face of danger. He had been taught by the father of the very boy in front of him. How humiliating it was, to be taking orders from a mere child. Nevertheless, the first lesson taught by any commander was to never lie to them. He could not go against his beliefs. 

“I’m afraid they could even, with enough of them, rebuild their community. The next generation is always stronger than the first. The first generation would have to give up their abilities, but their children wouldn’t. They could become strong enough to defeat us.”

The boy screamed with rage, “Are you telling me I failed?! You incompetent worm! You’ll die for this!”

As he screamed, ice streamed from his body, carpeting the floor, the ceiling, and the walls. Ice chunks flew from his hands pelting Capps until he fell to the ground crying in pain and agony. The boy’s body tingled with the rush of power and he pushed harder and harder. Ice flowed in waves as the room turned into his own personal arctic. He smiled. Despite all the bad news he had gotten today, at least he was having some fun. 

Capps lay on the floor, humbled and defeated. He watched ice creep down the boy’s arm, from his shoulder to his wrist. The ice gathered onto his hand forming a long gleaming sword. A blade of death. About three feet long, it glowed in the moonlight, reflecting light like a crystal chandelier. The boy raised the sword above his head. 

He looked down, laughter in his eyes while his mouth twisted into a frown, “I don’t break my promises.”

As the sword angled over Capps’ heart, he stopped thinking about his impending doom. 

He thought about his family at home and how he’d miss them. But most of all he thought about the boy. What a fool he was to call me incompetent. He’s the incompetent one, nothing like his father, but blinded by rage. We’ve all been fools, thinking that a child can lead us to victory, no matter his abilities. Though I can’t now, someday he will pay for what he’s done, corrupting our cause. 

The sword slowly penetrated his heart, the boy enjoying every minute of it. Capps coughed, looked the boy right into his penetrating, all-knowing eyes, and choked out a whisper, “You will get what you deserve, Cyrus Darkfeather.”

The breath rushed out of him and he was still. 

The boy grinned as he stood up, wiping blood off his newly pressed leather suit. With a flip of his hand, the surrounding ice melted until the only evidence of his abilities was the sword, lodged firmly in the messenger’s rib cage. 

He walked past the still body and made his way to the door. If his men weren’t able to find them, he would have to do it himself. 

He twisted the door shut behind him and sealed the lock with a layer of ice. No one would be able to get in until morning when the boy had vanished far, far away. 

The moon sparkled as if trapped in ice far above, the little stars just glints on its neverending surface. Under the sky, the boy made a vow to himself. He was going to find those runaways, even if it took him a thousand years.