Snippet #1557229

The bartender staggered back against the wall, cowering in terror.

"Please!" he said. "I've told you everything I know! I don't know where they went!"

Safir's face remained expressionless. "Is that so?" he asked. "Yes, I believe you are telling the truth. Nevertheless, you will be punished for your crimes against the Queen."

"What crimes?!"

"By your own admission, you allowed a party of traitors to assemble in this very establishment and plot the murder of the Witch. From the information I have gathered, it seems they left this city a number of days ago, intent on their wicked scheme."

"They were nothing to do with me!"

"You gave them bread and wine. You rendered succour to traitors, therefore you shall share the fate of traitors." The barkeeper tried to protest, but his words turned to shrieks of pain as Safir began to work his spells. First the traitor's tongue burned red-hot in his mouth, scorching his flesh, then his throat collapsed and choked him to a slow and agonising death. Safir gestured at the corpse and it floated in the air, following him as he swept from the tavern.

Out on the streets, dark figures flitted to and fro under the pale moonlight. None of them saw Safir or his grim cargo, for he did not wish to be seen. Safir had been in the City of Light a full day, gathering information on the origin of these 'Death to the Witch' posters, and a disturbing picture had emerged. It appeared that a party of warriors had assembled in recent days to end the Witch's life. That in itself was not unusual, but it appeared that these warriors were gifted over and above the usual motley rabble.

Safir had heard, among other things, tales of a shapeshifter, a beast-man, a necromancer, a huntress, a barbarian, a wizard and others with uncanny powers. Normally Safir would pay little heed to such rumours, but his investigations had uncovered the deaths of five trolls within the city. There were very few warriors who could dispatch trolls with ease, and upon examination of the corpses, he had found that some of them bore strange bite marks and claw prints. Worse still, the corpses held traces of magic, and trolls were unskilled in the magic arts, which meant that whatever had killed them had included at least one magician.

So it appeared that a new rebellion was stirring against the witch. Safir was certain this rebellion would go the way of the others: into oblivion. He would make sure of that personally. He exited the city and transformed into a great black eagle, skimming above the forests as he flew back in the direction of the haunted forest. Whoever these traitors were, they couldn't have gone far. He would find them at whatever village they were seeking shelter at and end their unworthy lives.

The City of Light slept under the moonlight, but in the morning its inhabitants would discover the grisly present Safir had left for them: the bodies of five traitors displayed in the town square. It was a blunt message: they might think they were safe, hiding in their City of Light, but no one could escape the Queen's justice.