MUSIC

MUSIC
Chapter 35

ROYANNA

The parade began swiftly, with Saphena leading us into the village through the street, lined with villagers, whose cheers were mixed with whispers.

Some threw flowers at us, not as vibrant as I knew, but still colorful. Some applauded, while others just stood still, staring.

“Don't look at them.” I heard Clio whisper to me, and I tore my gaze from the people, glancing at her. “I am not,” I replied, and it was Clio's turn to briefly look at me.

I flashed her a small smile and kept my gaze forward. In a matter of seconds, they perched on the villagers once again, particularly a small girl perched on a man's shoulder, her father, I presumed. She held a black flag with the sigil of a wolf standing at the peak of a mountain. Her smile was pure and sweet, it made me wonder how such a small child could happily live in a place like Frost Vale.

And it was just her, most of the villagers had warm smiles, especially the elderly. It felt strange, seeing happy people in a cursed land, surviving.

The parade wound up at a large market square, Saphena stopped right in front of a statue covered in Frost, shaped in the exact way of the sigil.

Raising her hand, the voices of the villagers dimmed, their cheers and whispers subsiding.

She turned to face us, her face unreadable as always, “This place.” She began, “... Is the heart of Frost Vale, and the statue of hope. Every warrior who has served the Alpha, pledged their loyalty to the Alpha, his people, and the Plague. Now you will do the same.”

“Guards!” Saphena yelled, and behind us, two guards stepped forward holding a trunk. They dropped it before her, and opened it, revealing a clean silver dagger.

My heart skips a beat as Saphena picks up the dagger and raises it in the air.

“By the power vested in me, I pronounce the commencement of the swearing of the oaths.” She declared, and lowered her hand, her gaze landing on mine.

“One by one, each of you will step forward and repeat the pledge after me. Now proceed.” She commanded and Kithara was the first to march forward.

Saphena commanded her to bring her hand forward, and when she did, she brought the dagger to her palm and said, “Repeat after me,”

Her sharp voice boomed across as she began to chant, “I pledge my blood and strength to the Alpha, the people of Frost Vale, and the Plague. My loyalty is bound to him alone, and I vow to serve for the rest of my life.”

Kithara repeated the words, and without warning, Saphena grasped Kithara’s wrist and drew the dagger across her palm. In a swift and clean motion, she slit Kithara's palm.

Kithara hissed softly, grabbing her wrist, her face wrinkling in pain as she turned to us, walking back to where she had stood earlier.

“Next,” Saphena called hastily, as though she wanted to get it over with and disappear.

Taking turns,each of us stepped forward. Clio went next, muttering the oath with her teeth clenched tight. When the blade touched her skin, she flinched but didn’t make a sound. I was very relieved and at the same time proud. Jira followed, then Benedict, Sarah, and the rest of us. Each of them had the same wincing reaction to the pain.

The cut was shallow, nothing too deep almost like a graze on the palm. The burn of the silver sealed it off, a symbol of the oath they had taken.

Then Saphena’s gaze returned to mine, assessing me as I stepped forward, stopping before her. I extended my hand, and she grabbed it. Her hold on me was iron. Her eyes held mine, flickering with spite.

“Repeat after me,” she said again.

I obeyed, repeating the words. “I pledge my blood and strength to the Alpha. The people of Frost Vale and the Plague. My loyalty is bound to him alone and I vow to serve for the rest of my life.”

Her lips curved in the faintest smirk, and then…she brought the blade to my hand and pushed it into my palm, a sharp pain shot through my body, and I tried to retract my hand as the ache burned like I had stepped into the fire, but Saphena's grip on my hand tightened, the dagger sinking deeper.

I bit my cheek hard, stifling the cry clawing its way up my throat. Blood dripped out of my hand, spilling on the ground, painting the snow crimson.

I glanced at her, and her smirk grew deeper. She twisted the blade just slightly before pulling it away and releasing her hold on my wrist.

My knees almost buckled, but I held firm, fisting my hand tight to soothe the pain as I stepped back into line beside Clio.

“You okay?” she whispered under her breath, stealing a glance at me.

“Yeah,” I murmured, though my palm still pulsed with the burning sting.

Saphena turned toward the statue, raising the dagger again, the blood of our oaths glinting on its blade.

“It is done,” she proclaimed. “You are bound now, by oath, by blood, by the will of the Alpha.”

The villagers cheered, applauding and screaming. Some of the villagers stepped out with musical instruments to play music, and watching them set up brought so many memories to my mind.

Orphelia, the tunes I played in my room, and the tree stump where I played for the young lads and elders who enjoyed my music.

Being in that castle and facing all these adversities made me forget the one thing that kept my soul alive every time I was down.

Music.

Subconsciously, I moved, approaching the villagers. I heard the gasps behind me, but I couldn't stop; only the heavens know when I would find such an opportunity again.

The cut on my hand had been sealed by the silver burn. So I dusted the blood off my hands like a child eager to
receive sweets from an elder.

“Can I?” I asked, pointing to the harp.