I choose Power

TWO

"Dahlia Tallhorn." The Queen's icy voice carries from her high throne. Her back is straight and her face is haughty and clear of any expression and only those that know her deeply know that the clenching of her fists on her lap and the ice in her eyes is not due to rage, but grief. "You are being tried for the murder of the King Consort Silas Tallhorn. What have you to say for yourself?" She asks.

Dahlia's mouth is dry and her heart is bleaker than a desert land. She does not bother to look around at the hundreds of people gathered in the throne room and beyond, moments ago celebrating this year's Behemoth season and currently bound together in their shared grief for their beloved King Consort's murder, and in their shared fear and hatred of Dahlia.

"What has she to say for herself?!" Someone cries out from the crowd. "Look at her eyes. She is evil, tainted, accursed." She turns said eyes, currently a liquid flashing silver on the speaker, a red-faced Marcus Vinath and he flinches, the entire crowd in the area shrinking away from her,, visibly sending prayers to Freya for protection.

"Silence!" The Queen's voice cuts through the hall and absolute silence descends. "I will hear the words from her lips." She turns flinty eyes on her, as if to drill the truth from her head. "Tell me. What say you on the count of p*******e and regicide?" She asks.

Despite the bleakness that has descended on her, she flinches from the harsh words, words that should never have been used to describe her. "What happened in that room?" The Queen asks, at the end of her patience.

Unwanted images whizz around in her brain and the memory of earlier in the afternoon inevitably descends on her.

"No..." Her cries expand to fill the room and her hand clenches her dagger sunken into the King Consort's chest. "No, Papa, no..." She sobs, her other hand grabbing a fistful of her father's shirt as if to force him back to life. Her entire body shakes with the force of her cries and her heart bleeds as surely as her father's does beneath her. Finally, he looks at peace, his eyes shut and his face calm in death, a direct contradiction to the expression of extreme pain he had possessed just before his death.

"Papa...!!!" She cries, her sobs choking her. There is a gasp behind her and she hears a voice she vaguely recognises as Celeste's.

"Oh no, Dahlia, what have you done?! You have killed our father!" Her sister sounds shocked and stupefied but Dahlia does not have the strength nor the inclination to correct her. Her world it seems, has come to a sudden standstill.

Her father lies on the floor beneath her bloodied hand, still, dead, forever out of this world. Her grip on his shirt tightens as if with the force of her will alone, she could tie him to this world. And then rough hands are on her and they are trying to separate her from her father, from the last remaining piece of him.

"No!" She screams, uncaring of her loss of dignity and regality. She pulls her arms from their grip and clutches at her father, a part of her expecting him to stand up any minute and declare it a well-executed joke. But he does not stand, and his hands between hers gets colder by the second. Hands are at her shoulders again, yanking her roughly away from him and rage, vast and unending, ignites within her. Her pain and anger finally find a target, the guards, and she looks up at them with the promise of death. They stagger back, mirroring expressions of shock on their faces and she opens her mouth and screams.

Glass from the window explodes in a tinkle and shower of shrapnel and the three armored gaurds before her are thrown into air by the force of her scream. They hit the opposite wall, leaving huge indentations before sliding to the floor in a heap. A huge glass shrapnel had speared into the closest one's chest and the wall and the floor slowly bieng painted red.

They dare! A feminine voice purrs in her head and when a fresh wave of guards rush into the room with their swords drawn, she stands, clothes stained brilliant red with her father's blood. The six guards quail at the sight of her.

For her once midnight black eyes are now a liquid silver, lightning zigzags through the sky behind her and against the light is a silhouette of great silver wings flaring out behind her.

"Attack!" Their leader screams and they rush at her at once. She smiles.

"STOP." She whispers to them like a lover and they all jerk to a stop, unable to move a muscle in their body. Their eyes fill with identical terror and it is a balm to her battered soul.

"FIGHT EACH OTHER. TO THE DEATH." She commands them and they instantly clash against each other with vigor. Their eyes are panicked and terrified but their movements are smooth and effortless. She has absolute control over them and they do not stand a chance of resisting.

She approaches them, but has to step over something and when she glances down at the floor, she falters. Something about the man sprawled dead on the floor is familiar, his dead flat eyes tug on her soul and reopens the wounds in her heart. She does not like looking at him, does not like the dreadful hurtful feelings he incites in her and yet she look on, mesmerised, unable to look away. And like a thunderclap, it dawns on her. Papa.

She falls to her knees, all else forgotten as she palms his cooling cheek. A lone tear drops from her eyes onto his face.

"Papa." She whispers.

There is a movement behind her and she looks up but too late. For the second time that day, Celeste uses her abominable strength to knock her out.

"For the last time, Dahlia Tallhorn, are you or are you not guilty for the death of your father?" Queen Thalia's voice breaks at the end of her question and her fists clench harder against the arm of her throne. Dahlia has never been particularly close to her mother but she has always loved her regardless. The turn of the day that was supposed to be the most celebrated day of the year into this disaster has caused visible strain on her, from her tight lips to her bloodless hands. Her heart breaks anew for her mother, the despair threatening to pull her under.

"I am not guilty." Dahlia whispers.

She relaxes back into her throne, aquamarine eyes boring into her daughter's. "Celeste." She calls out and Celeste steps out from the front of the hall. Dahlia looks up at the sound of her sister's name. Celeste's eyes are red and for the first time ever, she appears in public in a less than perfect state and proceeds forward slowly and hesitantly. Behind her are the rest of the royal family lined up facing the crowd from the oldests Celaena and Cecille to the youngests Niamh and Ciara. Celaena and Cecille are in a similar state as Celeste, and so are the rest of the Tallhorn family, standing a little less proid in their shared grief. They stand facing her and yet none of them meet her eye, except for her three womb sisters who stand side by side, looking at her with varying expressions of shock, awe and fear.

"Yes Mother." Celeste says, executing a curtsey in front of the queen.

"Tell us everything that happened." The queen says, sounding so blasé that one could assume she was asking for a news report but for the muscles standing out on her lithe body.

"Your Majesty." Celeste glances at where Dahlia stands once before straightening up. "I came back to the palace to pick up something with the intention of returning to the revels. I was heading past Dahlia's, Rose's, Peony's and Lily's chambers when I heard her scream. I called for guards but took off in the direction before them." She pauses to look back at her once again, a frown on her brows. It is obvious she does not like what she has to say next. "When I saw the guards with their throats slit in front of the doors, it was obvious something was wrong, but I never suspected Dahlia could be behind it. When I entered Father's chambers," she pauses to clear her throat before continuing, "when I entered, Dahlia was bent over Father's body. He had his hands on hers and seemed to be trying to repel her but she sank her dagger into his chest. Right in front of me."

The entire crowd of people explode with noise and speculations, their combined whispers a throbbing hive in the air.

"Silence." Queen Thalia says and the halls fall silent once again.

"Dahlia." She says, and there is disbelief  in her voice. "Is the version of events that Celeste has related true?"

The entire hall turns to look at her with varying degrees of hostility and it steals her breath. She cannot imagine the level of mistrust they must have always had for her for the people to even entertain the thought of her killing their father. She is grieving, like the rest of the royal family and yet, she is being accused by her kin and her people.

"Of course not!" Everyone, including Dahlia is surprised to see Rose step forward from the line of royal children. She curtsies in front of the queen. "Your Majesty, if I may." Their mother bids her continue with a wave of her hand. "Celeste must have seen wrong. We all know Dahlia. We all know how much she loved Father. As her womb sister, I know her best of all. Dahlia would never kill him." She says.

The queen stares her down. "You would bring sentiments to a trial of murder?" She asks, ice dripping from her voice and Rose quails. "Inconsequential. And I do not think your other womb sisters agree with you." They all turn to Peony and Lily and they lower their gazes but do not contradict the queen. Dahlia's heart hurt anew, like someone was carving it out slice by slice. "Dahlia." The queen calls out and she curtsies.

"Yes, Your Majesty." She says.

"Do you deny that as Celeste has related, you killed the King Consort Silas?" She asks.  She glances around, at the throngs of people all silently baying for her blood and she has never felt more alone that she feels at that moment.

"I-- I did." The hall explodes with whispers once again. "Mother, I have no doubt Celeste related exactly what she saw but I swear that is not how it is." She says.

"Then tell us!" For the first time in her seventeen years of life, she hears Queen Thalia the eleventh raise her voice and it is filled with so much pain and anger that the entire hall shrinks away from her wrath. "And tell us the meaning of this." She says, waggling a finger at her face where her eyes are surely still a dazzling silver.

"She has admitted treason! She killed her own father, the King Consort! Kill her!" She recognizes Marcus's voice from the audience and around him, the audience take up his call, screaming for her blood.

Her memory of this afternoon starts from waking up in her bed with a splitting headache.

Dahlia winces as she pulls her hair into a ponytail. She has been in a foul mood ever since she woke up in her and her womb sisters' chambers with no recollection of how the Behemoth challenge had ended. All she remembers is stretching out a hand, being so close to being the Behemoth this year and then the pain in her skull before she had blacked out. After questioning the terrified servant who she had aggressively woken up to, she had found out that Cecille has once again won the Behemoth challenge this year. Remembering the details she had wrung out of the servant makes her so livid it steals her breath. Apparently, right before she had been able to grasp the Behemoth gem, Cecille had released the compulsion on Celeste and with united interests, Celeste had sent one of her prizes crashing into her head with so much force as to knock her out completely through the rest of the ceremony and then Cecille had turned around and Voiced Celeste once again, finally managing to get past her and take the Behemoth. Her fists clench and she pulls her hair too tight and winces again.

She has been given no time to recover because another servant had come in with the message that the Queen has requested her presence the instant she awoke. And thus, her hurry. She might be in a mighty black mood but no amount of black mood would justify facing her mother's wrath if she keeps her waiting. She manages to get her hair into a sad ponytail, regretting sending the servants away in her anger and yanks on her combat boots. She shares the huge chamber with Rose, Lily and Peony despite having the choice of moving to separate chambers because the quadruplets prefer to have easy access to each other and they have separate rooms so there is no dearth of privacy. She has not seen any other sisters since she awoke but that is no surprise because they are surely participating in the revels and will not be coming back till late in the night.

She steps out of their chambers and hurries in the direction of the throne room. Apprehension slithers down her spine, for she knows what could be so urgent that Queen Thalia would demand to see her. The entire kingdom had seen her resist Cecille's compulsion effortlessly. There would need to be an explanation. She ponders the implications of this discovery, realizing that the easiest and most likely reason is that she is a Void.

Voids are those few people who are naturally resistant to magic. They have no active magic of their own but offensive magic does not work on them either, to a degree. An average Void can resist an average powered person but most Voids stand no chance against power the calibers of Queen Thalia's, Cecille's, Celeste's and Celaena's. If she is a Void, then she is a very powerful one. The thought makes her grin, and she forgets the pain in head for a second. She begins planning ways of testing out her new powers and wondering if she will be capable of not just Voiding herself but Voiding others with powers as well, as the most powerful Voids have been rumoured to do. A Void might not exactly be what she always wished for, but she will take the blessing in any shape it comes.

She turns a corner into another pathway when she hears a groan followed by a thud of something heavy falling to the ground and it had come from the direction of her father's chambers.

Curious, she turns around and heads in the direction. She had thought her father would surely be out in the kingdom in the depths of the revels. Opting to gamble on the Queen's wrath for her lateness and reasoning that she could just get her father to follow her to the throne room and then the two would be too busy making eyes at each other to be wrathful about anything, she approaches the chambers.

He had watched her struggle through the challenges, resist Cecille's Voice and get so close to taking the Behemoth before gettig knocked out but she needs to know what he thinks about the discovery of her powers. He had been the one to teach her to love herself, blessed with power or not, and his opinion means the world to her.

She turns into the passageway leading to the doors and screams in shock. The two guards that are ever-present in front of the door lie on the floor with their throats sliced from ear to ear, a wide pool of blood spreading out from beneath them.

She takes off at a run, feet pounding and ears ringing and throws open the door. King Consort Silas Tallhorn lies on the floor of his chamber, his hands clutched to his chest and his face screwed up in pain.

"Papa!" She screams, running to him. Her eyes are wide and her hands are frantic as she searches for any physical wounds on him but finds none. A movement by the window catches her eye and she raises her head in time to see the tail end of a black cloak disappear over it.

"You! Freeze!" She rushes to the window, hoping to tear the attacker into pieces but when she looks over the edge of the window, there is no more sign of him. Her father groans from behind her and she runs back to him.

"Papa! What did he do to you?" She asks him but he can only manages a groan. Blood trickles from his mouth and down the side of his cheek and fear lances her heart to dirt. She is losing him.

"Don't worry, Papa, I'll get you help, just hang on, please." She says, needing to convince herself as much as him. She attempts to move him and his body seizes and convulses and he squeezes his eye shut and groans in pain. His body is so hot it burns her fingers. She drops him, fearing she will only make it worse by moving him and calls out.

"Somebody help! Somebody! Anyone there?! Help me!" She calls out. Her father's hands are clutched in hers and when she glances down her body ices over. His fingers have turned a bruise coloured purple and red and the discoloration rapidly climbs up his hands. Death morsel. The deadliest and most painful poison in the world. Records say that the instant the discolouration sets in there is no more chance of living. Her father's lips are a glacial blue and blood pours down the side of his mouth now.

"No. No, Papa. Just hold on, okay? I'm going to get you help. You're going to be alright. Just hold on, please." She says, her voice catching on a sob. She puts his hands down, intending to run out to the palace apothecary but he grips her hand in his with surprising strength. She looks back down at his wobbly image beyond her tears and he is shaking his head. He tries to speak and his body convulses again, arcing off the ground. His mouth opens in a silent scream and when he settles down, a lone tear tracks the corner of his eye down to his ear. She sobs, clutching her father's hands.

"Papa, please, fight it. Don't leave me." She grips his hands in hers, willing him to live, wishing there was anything she could do, wishing she could trickle life back into his body. His shaking hands rise and grip her dagger sheath and when he looks in her eyes with a plea in his eyes, she understands.

"No." She shakes her head, sobbing. "I can't. I won't"

His body goes rigid, before arcing off the floor unnaturally and when he screams, her blood curdles with the sheer intensity of the pain in his voice. When he opens his eyes again, he raises his discoloured hand and palms away her tears

"Dah-li-a." He grits out between clenched teeth, the muscles in his body bulging with the tension. "I... love you." He manages between breaths before his body clenches again and seizes violently. Animal sounds emerge from his throat and sweat and blood pour down his body.

She looks around for help, hysterical, but noone is around. Where is everyone?! And even if they were here, a part of her mind acknowledges that nothing can help her father now. Even before she came, the poison had already destroyed nearly half of his internal organs, burning him up from the inside. She shoves that part of her mind in a dark closet and locks it and looks frantically around, there has to be something she can do. But there isn't.

The next convulsion takes him and a vessel in his eye bursts, the entire eye turning red. She runs to a bowl of water by the side of the room and soaks it with a towel. She runs to his side once more and presses it to his forehead but he does not seem to even feel it. Does not seem to have any relief at all. Her cries choke her now and she presses a hand to her father's flailing chest, willing him to live.

"Please, Papa, fight it. Fight for us." At her voice, he opens his eyes and they fill with intense clarity. He opens his mouth but no sound comes out but what he wants is obvious enough. He grips the handle of her dagger and tugs weakly.

"Dah...lia." He whispers and she has to bend to hear him. "Mercy... Say... goodbye."

She glances down at his arm, the discoloration has climbed up past his elbows towards his shoulders. Once it hits his heart, he will feel unimaginable pain for a long period of time before he finally dies.

She unsheathes her dagger and his body sags with relief, his breath rattling out of his chest. His hand still on hers, she guides it over his heart.

Tears pour down her face and she is still sobbing but she bends down and plants a kiss on her father's cheeks.

"Goodbye, Father." She says and plunges the dagger into his heart.

"Mother, you need to believe me, that is what happened. I saw the assasin right before he disappeared over the window. He killed---" her sentence hiccups in her throat and she swallows painfully, unable to make the final statement.

"Salinder!" The queen calls and the head palace healer comes forward. He is a stooped wizened old man invaluable for his healing knowledge. "Tell us what you found. Dahlia says my husband was killed with Death morsel. Is this true?"

"Deadly poison, that, Your Majesty. leaves no trace after death and all the symptoms are reversed." He glances at her with sympathy. "Forgive me, Your Highness, but it is the perfect poison to claim if one does not want to be found out after a crime. Also, the death morsel poison will not available for several moons ye, and it is common knowledge that it does not keep well." He turns back to the queen. "As far as I can see, the King Consort died due to the dagger wound in his heart and nothing more."

"No. I am telling the truth. Mother, you have to believe me. I saw the assassin." She says urgently, taking a step forward and the guards at the base of the throne simultaneously unsheathe their swords.

The queen relaxes back into her throne, releasing a weary sigh.

"Do I?" She asks. "The main person that uses assassins is the Midnight King of Degolan and he is not inclined to send assassins to our kingdom at the moment."

"It has to be them, Your Majesty." She says and the queen holds out her hand for silence.

"They wouldn't have. An alliance was being arranged between our two kingdoms and neither of us would have jeopardized that." She falls silent, thinking and when she sits back up, the entire hall is so silent you could hear a pin drop as everyone listens to hear her pass her judgement.

"Dahlia Tallhorn, I find you guilty of p*******e and regicide." He words ring around the hall with finality, like heavy leads dropping on her heart and her shoulders sag.

"But your Majesty!" Rose takes a step forward but Queen Thalia raises a hand and she halts.

"Enough. Dahlia is cursed. Do you know the only person in our entire history that had silver eyes? The accounts including Celeste's tell us of ghostly wings spreading from her back and cruelty in her eyes as she had killed a member of the royal guard and irreparably maimed the rest. Do you know the only person in history that she reminds us of? That she takes after? The cursed Sabine." The hall ripples with a murmur of shocked voices. Dahlia closes her eyes as she feels her roots slowly being uprooted from her.

"p*******e is not too far a stretch." She turns to her daughter, looking her in the eye. "You are too dangerous to stay in my kingdom. As a mother, I am inclined to be lenient and relax the instant death that the severity of your crimes require." She stands and the rest of the crowd that had been sitted stands with her.

"Dahlia Tallhorn, I hereby sentence you to exile." The words hit her with the force of sledgehammers and she staggers back despite having expected something of that magnitude. "You shall never be seen in this kingdom, or close to the boundaries. If you do, you shall immediately be sentenced to death."

The queen turns around and with a swish of her cloak, disappears from the throne room, her once proud shoulders sagging beneath the weight of her grief.

And just like that, her fate has been decided.