Stones of Light (Threadlight Book 2) by Zack Argyle

Author:Zack Argyle [Argyle, Zack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-04-03T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

When the hood lifted and his eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight, Alverax nearly peed himself. Ten of thousands of Felians solemnly assembled throughout the colossal hippodrome, staring with broken hearts at a broken young man while a choir of circling birds sang his death march. They gathered to witness the death of the last Obsidian threadweaver, and to watch their hopes of a Heraldic return die with him.

The strength he’d shown while trading his life for the Zeda people had all but vanished. Now, he stood upon frail bones and hunched with the posture of a man resigned to his fate. He turned his eyes from the people; it was more than he could bear. He could weather the storm raging in his own mind—a story of failure and ill-fate wrought by his father’s curse—but each time he locked eyes with one of the Felian people and saw the tragedy in their gaze, it broke another piece of him.

He felt more alone than any man should in a sea of souls.

Somewhere, the Zeda were still imprisoned, forced to wait until after his execution before they were exiled. He wished he could have seen even one of them again, a single nod of approval for the only selfless choice he’d ever made.

As he stared at the circular stone floor beneath him in the center of the hippodrome, he was taken aback by the familiarity of the runes carved upon its surface. It reminded him of what the Zeda called “the coreseal”. This platform was much larger, but its shape and style were certainly comparable. His eyes followed the chain wrapped around his ankles that ended at a point fixed to the ground.

“It is typically our custom,” Watchlord Osinan said quietly, his chin raised high as he inspected the chains, “to allow the condemned an opportunity to address the people. However, we have decided that you are not deserving of such a platform. So, you will be given no such opportunity.”

The slightest commotion broke through the crowd, like leaves rustling in the wind. Alverax turned his head to see Empress Jisenna summiting the platform, dressed in a flowing black dress with dozens of thin, golden tassels draping from her sleeves. In another life, the bright sun and the singing birds would have been a fitting accompaniment to her arrival, but, today, Alverax looked away and cursed the birds to silence.

As the empress approached the center of the platform, she kissed her fingertips and placed them in the air in front of her.

“Today, we grieve the loss of our beloved empress." She spoke with power, letting her voice travel through the acoustics of the hippodrome. "While her ship may now sail the infinite sea, her spirit and her ideals remain with us. The truth is that we have been deceived. A ship, flying a false flag, entered our harbors and stole a piece of our soul.”

Stole.

The word seared itself into Alverax’s mind. Was that how he would be remembered? The man

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