Underground (Hewn City) / Unknown Location
Underground (Hewn City)
Nesta glanced at the stone celling kilometers away tall from the ground, she still held her sister, walking beside Amren as they stepped towards the Mannor.
The Underground was very similar to the Hewn City, lampposts in the streets, houses and several artificial lights… it was basically a Hewn City's copy.
The sentries opened the small Mannor's gate, the three females passed by it, going directly to the front door, Amren opened it, Nesta entered in with Feyre, the living room’s lights were already turned on, soon Elain stepped in the living room.
“What happened?” Elain asked going close to her sisters, Lucien appeared in the kitchen’s door, also approaching to them.
“We lost the battle in Lunar's Bridge.” Amren said slightly panting as Elain took Nesta's arm while Lucien wrapped his arm around Feyre's waist, “The Knights are traitors.” She sat in a armchair, close to the couch where Nesta and Elain were placed, “Rhysand got taken by them, Amarantha is back.”
Elain felt a tremble in the bond; fear, rage, she turned her face to Lucien, saw his facial expression, “Who is Amarantha?” she asked him worried, voice low.
“A tyrannical, awful, cruel female, ex-general of Hybern, ex-self declared Queen of Prythian.” He held his own upper arm, hand close to the elbow.
The middle sister’s eyes surveyed the red haired’s face, “What she did to you?” her lips pressed in a thin line, she watched Lucien use his index finger to point to his golden eye, his scar, rage ran on her veins as she learned this information, her fingers curled in fists at her side, her heart a thunderous beat, the fact that someone had injured her mate…
“Elain.” Nesta called her, touching her sister's wrist, the brown eyed's gaze slowly found her, the older had a understanding face as she had felt like this in the first years she had meet Cassian, every time he came back injured from battle, the instinctive rage got well controlled in a few years after accepting the bond, “Why are you both here?” she blinked as a thought come into her mind, her gaze ran to her pocket's dress, she opened its zipper checking her son's small gloves, which were still in there, intact.
Elain blinked, once twice, slowly stretching her fingers, she touched Lucien's upper arm, rubbing her thumb in a light caress before saying to her sister: “Hewn City got attacked, the Palace invaded.”
“I need to write a letter,” Amren stood.
“To who?” Nesta asked.
“Varian, when the news spread he will be worried.” The red lips started to step towards the corridor.
“Wait.” Lucien said suddenly, taking everyone’s attention, “Who it is possible to Amarantha be back? She got decapitated by Tamlin.”
Amren placed a hand on her hip, “What was done to the body after it?”
“Hauled off to be burned.” He dragged a hand through his red hair.
“Have you saw it being burned?” the red lips asked lifting a brow, the male didn’t answered, she clicked her tongue, sitting in the arm of the couch, beside Nesta, “Well, someone certainly took the body to somewhere else.” She placed a hand on Nesta's shoulder, “Took a few specific rare artefacts, a few strong and every hard to be made spells, probably also some blood spells, a enchanted twine, then that or those ‘someone' putted everything in a same room, placed her body inside a circle made by salt in the floor with blood candles around, performed a ritual and resurrected her.” she crossed her arms, Lucien and Elain had their eyes wide open, “Not a regular resurrection as you can see by the amount of stuff it needed… For what I saw, she is not exactly well resurrected, alive I mean, she is undead to be more specifically.”
“What do you mean?" Nesta asked.
“Her body is still rotting, most of it actually, some parts will have to be replaced by fresh ones.” Amren slowly blinked.
“For what reason she would be resurrected like this?” Elain asked, holding Lucien's wrist, a try to comfort him, and to calm herself.
Amren's eyes found a nonspecific point in the room, “This kind of resurrection gives to the undead incredible strength, resistance, there is no need to eat, sleep, no necessities, no pain but there is still sensibility; vision, hearing and smell senses become stronger, magic powers as well. Even a stab in the heart or brain can’t stop the undead, if a limb is chopped off it will crawl back to the body and rejoin… Several advantages, but it all came with consequences as the rotting body and limbs needing to be replaced, as it had been already told before. As well the fact that the undead needs soil, and every single elements that makes a fertile perfect soil for plantation which includes worms, inside its veins... ”
“Can a undead be killed?” Lucien's lips pressed in a thin line, one of his hands touching the one Elain had on his wrist.
The red lips clicked her tongue, “Yes, there is a twine bow in the undead's nape, if you untie and remove it from the skin, the body loose its function, but the head will stay alive and will have to be burned.” She blinked slowly, “The problem is on getting in there since… well you know, I just said it.”
Silence, Amren walked out the room.
Nesta leaned her head in the couch's back, rubbing her eyes, “When have you both arrived here?”
“A couple hours ago.” Elain answered, trying to keep her thoughts in place after learning the new information, “I already told to the soldiers to close the entrances from the surface as the number of enemies was too big.” She checked her sisters, looking for any wound, “And the population was already here, for llucky...”
“Good. Are you two alright?” Nesta placed her elbows on her knees, slight leaning her body ahead.
Lucien and Elain nodded, Amren walked back to the living room.
“Where are those messenger foxes?” the dark haired asked with a envelope in hands.
“In the kennel at the west side of the manor.” Elain answered, Amren was out of the room again, the middle sister turned her gaze to Nesta, “Are the others coming back?” she asked worried.
Nesta nodded, “Cassian left the bond closed but I know he is approaching.”
“Right.” The brown eyed said, “I will clean Feyre and put her in the bed.” She touched her younger sister's shoulder.
“Rhys is suffering now…” Feyre whispered, Elain held her hand, pulling her to stand up.
As the youngest did, the middle sister’s eyes became vacant for a few seconds, she had a vision, a blurred vision, again. She recognized only its feeling, sorrow, loss, something similar to what she “saw” years ago.
“What did you saw?” Nesta asked as she noticed the change on her sister's facial expression.
Lucien placed a hand on Elain's shoulder, in support to her.
“It was blurred.” The brown eyed answered.
“How bad?” Nesta asked worried.
Elain' face grim, she shook her head as a breath escaped from her nose, “Really bad.”
Nesta rubbed her own temples, Amren arrived in the living room as Elain and Feyre where out.
“Here.” The red lips said offering a glass of water to Nesta, who took it as the dark haired took a slip from the other glass in her opposite hand, “I will have a long day tomorrow.” She sat beside the blue gray eyed, Lucien walked out the room, following Elain and Feyre.
“We will have.” She held the glass with both hands.
Amren leaned her back in the couch, Nesta did the same, “We should rest.” The dark haired said, the female on her side nodded.
“Yes, but first I will write a letter warning Helion.”
oOoOo
Unknown Location
After getting beat, whipped until his back became a ravaged slab of meat, and being forced to watch a few captured soldiers being tortured and killed in front of him, Rhysand got placed in a metal bed, chained on his wrists and ankles, laid on his back, wings spread to the sides.
The spears on his knees and arm removed, the wounds from it bandaged as they wanted to keep him alive, the bones on his wings were putted back in place but in compensation several ash screws where being placed on his left one, followed by ash nuts being placed in the end of the screws, in the back part of his wing, to keep them stuck in the right place.
The violet eyed panted, and panted as the soldiers finished his wing, started to put screws and nuts in the right one, he was already too exhausted to scream, or move his body, he fainted a few times, in the last one, after his conscious was back in place, the soldiers were out of the room.
Rhysand was alone in the dark, he could hear only his own breaths, heartbeat, and the blood that came from his back dropping on the floor, he slowly moved his head to the side, noticing a collar on his neck, connected to a chain which he didn’t know where it was tied.
He swallowed, the room was cold, he felt as freezing as his body was fully naked, the blood loss made it worst.
A click was heard from the outside, the door was opened, the smell of rotting and soil, footsteps, Amarantha had entered in the room.
She stepped towards him, when close enough, her cold harsh fingers touched his lower left leg, poked his knee – which made him let escape a low grunt of pain – them touched his thigh, sliding her palm to his hip, then abdomen, stopping on chest.
“You filthy traitor.” She smiled, revealing soil between her teeth and gum, “What did you have in mind on that day?” the day she died, her smile faded, she place her index finger and thumb on each cheek of him, holding his face still as she lowed her head on his direction, her dry nose touched his forehead, sliding to his hair as breathed the air, “So you are mated now?” she held his face tightly, a flick of pleasure come into her eyes as she stared at the dark haired's nauseous face.
Rhysand's breath got heavier as he watched a small worm getting out of Amarantha's tear duct and fall on his face, he flinched at it.
Amarantha let escape a low laugh, taking the worm between her fingers, “You will have to get use to it.” She dropped the worm in the floor, her gaze found his wings, “This is new.”
The undead touched the closest wing to her, her finger running by his membranous skin between the screws, “You hid them from me during all those years,” her finger ran by his wing, to the skin close to his back, between the membranous and the smooth one, where his wings seemed to get out of his back, in the most sensible place, where the only person ever allowed to touch was Feyre, “What a shame…” she used her opposite hand to hold his torso still, “But don’t worry, me, my cronies, we will have fun on you.”
Rhysand closed his eyes, trying to keep his facial expression still as the undead stared at him, smiling, she held his eyelids to keep them opened as she talked, but the High Lord fainted in a few minutes.