Chapter 6 THE EXECUTIONER

POV: Prince Ronan Vale

The scent hit me before the valley even came into view.

It wasn't just blood. It was the strong, sweet stench of fresh rot mixed with biting ice.

I pulled back on the leather reins, bringing my warhorse to a halt at the crest of the hill. Below us, Bellmere lay completely silent. Smoke curled from broken chimneys, but no fires burned.

"My Prince?" Varic, my second-in-command, rode up beside me. He had his hand resting on the handle of his broadsword. "The advance guard sent no word back."

"They didn't send word because they're dead," I said, keeping my voice low.

I kicked my stallion into a walk, coming down the muddy slope into the village square. The reports sent to the capital had claimed a single Ashborn survivor was hiding in the valley. 

A girl.

I had spent five years hunting her kind for my father. I knew what Ashborn magic looked like. It was crude. Violent. It left dark, burned earth and drained corpses in its wake.

This was different.

The square was packed with bodies standing in absolute silence.

They weren't rotting. They weren't shambling like brainless beasts. They stood straight, feet planted on the stone, staring ahead with eyes that bore a faint, unnatural silver ring around the pupils.

"Goddess above," Varic breathed, pulling his horse back. His face had gone pale. "Command us, Prince Ronan. Do we burn the valley?"

"No," I said, dismounting. My heavy boots thudded against the dirt. "Ashborn magic requires an anchor. Find the girl."

---

She wasn't hiding.

She sat in the mud in front of a ruined cottage, her small frame shaking under a torn linen dress. Blood stained her arms, her chest, and her bare feet.

An older woman lay lifeless beside her.

As I walked toward her, the wall of corpses in front of the yard shifted. They didn't attack. They simply stepped aside, clearing a path for me as if obeying a command she hadn't even voiced.

I stopped ten paces away, my hand resting lightly on my sword handle.

The girl lifted her head.

Her hair was a dark, tangled mess, falling over thin shoulders. Her skin was warm brown, dotted with soft freckles across her nose. She looked small. Fragile.

Then her eyes met mine.

They were solid, blinding silver. There were no pupils or dark irises, just a pure, metallic light shining over her eyelashes.

I stared at her, a strange tightness forming in my chest.

‘This is what frightened an entire vanguard?’ 

She didn't look like an ancient monster. She didn't look like a dark sorceress. She looked like a girl whose world had just been ripped apart.

The sound of iron armor echoed behind me. 

Commander Vane….the coward who had fled the initial push into the cottage….hurried into the yard with ten armed soldiers behind him.

"There she is!" Vane shouted, pointing a gloved finger at her. "Kill her! Kill the monster!"

The girl flinched at his voice, her silver eyes widening in pure terror.

I didn't draw my blade. I kept my gaze locked on her face.

"Has the King signed her execution order, Commander?" I asked, my voice flat and icy.

Vane blinked, taken aback. "His Majesty gave orders to eliminate all Ashborn threats on sight!"

"I am the Crown's Executioner," I turned my head slightly, catching Vane in my side vision. "I decide what constitutes a threat."

"Look around you, Prince Ronan!" Vane gestured wildly at the quiet army surrounding us. "She raised the whole damn village! She killed my men!"

"Your men died because you panicked," I said cleanly.

The girl took a sharp breath, her hands digging into the mud beside her dead mother.

"Executioner or not, I command this vanguard!" Vane snarled, drawing his longsword. "If you won't strike her down, I will!"

Vane lunged forward, his blade raised above his head.

The girl didn't run. She raised her right hand, her silver eyes flaring with desperate rage. The air temperature dropped suddenly. A strong, hidden force hit the ground.

The corpses in the yard snapped their heads toward Vane. Three dead soldiers lunged forward with terrifying speed, slamming into Vane and throwing him backward onto the cobblestones.

"Form up!" Varic roared, drawing his sword as the rest of the men panicked.

The dead surged forward in a chaotic wave of movement.

I drew my sword, the steel singing in the cold air.

This wasn't just Ashborn death magic. I had seen Ashborn magic before, and it didn't behave like this. It didn't freeze the ground beneath my boots. It didn't throw men across a courtyard.

‘What is she?’

I cut through two bodies, stepping over the writhing limbs as I advanced toward the center of the yard.

The girl was squeezing her head, tears streaming down her face, leaving tracks through the dirt and blood on her skin.

"Stop!" she screamed, her voice breaking with agony. "Just stop!"

The magic burst harder, a wall of cold force pressing against my armor. I shoved through the final line of standing corpses, stepping into the space right in front of her.

She looked up at me, her chest thrusting up, her silver eyes wide with terror and rage.

"Get away from me!" she gasped, pushing her hands toward my chest.

I reached out, my hand closing around her wrist.

As soon as my skin touched hers, the pressure disappeared. It did not lessen; it disappeared completely.

The silver light in her eyes flashed violently. For one strange, quiet second, she looked less afraid, her gaze locking onto mine in silent shock.

The slight shake in her jaw and the quick beating of her pulse in her throat showed how scared she was. The fear coming from her was strong and hard to ignore.

"It's over," I said softly.

Before she could pull another thread of magic from the earth, I twisted her arm just enough to break her balance. She stumbled forward, her knees buckling beneath her.

I caught her before she hit the dirt and lifted her away from the blood-soaked ground. She felt impossibly light in my arms.

Her silver eyes rolled back. Her body went completely limp against my chest.

The moment she lost consciousness, every dead body in the square dropped like lead. The silence came back, feeling deep and complete.

Varic rushed into the yard, his sword covered in dark blood, his breathing heavy.

"Goddess above," Varic panted, staring at the fallen corpses. "Is she... dead?"

"Unconscious," I corrected, turning back toward my horse.

Commander Vane pushed himself up from the dirt, nursing a bruised shoulder. He glared at the girl in my arms with pure hatred as he pulled a dagger from his belt.

"Finish it, Prince Ronan," Vane growled. "Behead her now before she wakes up again."

I stopped in my tracks. I turned slowly, leveling a glare at Vane that made the older man freeze in his boots.

"Touch her, and I will leave your body in this dirt beside the rest," I said, my voice dropping into a quiet, deadly tone.

Vane swallowed hard, his hand shaking on his dagger. "The King…."

"The King wants answers," I cut him off. "Bind her hands in silver chain. We take her to Veyr."

Varic stepped closer as I carried the girl toward my stallion.

"My Prince," Varic whispered, keeping his voice low so the men couldn't hear. "She raised an entire village. The Council will demand her execution the second we cross the gates."

"Let them demand it," I said.

I set her across the front of my saddle, taking a piece of dark cloth from my pack to cover her face and protect her from the biting wind.

She had raised the dead. Soldiers had died because of her power.

But she had also cried over the woman at her feet. She had screamed for the dead to stop. She hadn't acted like someone who wanted any of this.

I didn't know what she was. But I knew one thing….she wasn't what my father's records claimed.

I looked down at the girl unconscious against my chest. Her dark lashes rested against bloodstained cheeks, hiding the silver beneath.

I pulled the reins, and my stallion started forward into the dark.

"You don't know what you are," I murmured quietly into the wind.

And neither did I.