After PalaHar’s greeting, Mihai reached out, hugging the
man. Before standing back, she kissed
him tenderly on the lips, saying, “My
Lord PalaHar, it is so good to see you.”
She lowered her voice. “The world grows dark, my Lord, and I see little light to guide my path. It is such a pleasure to know that Mother’s torch-bearer is with us tonight.”
She lowered her voice. “The world grows dark, my Lord, and I see little light to guide my path. It is such a pleasure to know that Mother’s torch-bearer is with us tonight.”
After some small chitchat, PalaHar turned his attention to Darla. Following his formal welcoming, he leaned forward, kissing her in the way Mihai had done with him. He then drew Darla close in a hug, whispering quietly in her ear as he did. “Child, your journey has yet to begin. The night will become black with evil madness before the sun shall shine upon us again. You… you, my dear little one, must become the star that leads us through that wicked hour. Your valor shall prove to become our rallying cry… our deliverance.”
To say that Darla was confused would be a great
understatement. She stood back,
searching PalaHar’s eyes for answers.
There were none found.
Hesitantly, she thanked him for his kindness, wishing him success in his
many endeavors. Then, releasing his
hand, she took Mihai’s, leading her to the next anxious greeter standing in
line.
Ardon waited uneasily, his nervous anticipation growing with
each of Mihai’s advancing steps. Darla,
being busy in her attempt to act appropriately as Mihai’s appointed escort,
paid little attention to those in line, her being so focused on the moment. She did not even notice Ardon until she
turned to introduce the new King. Her
smile melted away when her eyes finally took recognition of him. It was quickly replaced by an angry frown and
piercing stare filled with malice and hatred.
The room went dead silent.
Ardon froze, he not daring to move or speak, watching
Darla’s fingers involuntarily constricting into tortured fists, only to open
and then close again. The hair suddenly
went up on the back of his neck, his ears picking up the growing insect-like
staccato rising up from deep within the woman’s throat - the last sound heard
by so many of her adversaries.
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