20. Undertaking

20

Undertaking

Roman

S omething was wrong, very wrong. The usual vibrant energy that pulsed through the heart of the fae realm was gone, replaced by an eerie stillness that made his skin crawl.

"You feel it too, don't you?" Christian murmured, his eyes darting around the deserted courtyard. "It's like all the life has been sucked out of this place."

Roman nodded grimly, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his sword. "Stay sharp, everyone. We don't know what we're walking into."

They made their way into the castle, their footsteps echoing hollowly in the empty halls. The once-bustling palace was now a ghost town, devoid of the laughter and chatter that usually filled the air.

"Where is everyone?" James wondered aloud, his brow furrowed in concern.

As if in answer to his question, a familiar figure emerged from the shadows. It was Luca, Rowan's mate and the prince consort of the Seelie Court. But the usually jovial wolf shifter looked haggard and worn, his eyes haunted and his shoulders slumped with exhaustion.

"Luca!" Roman exclaimed, rushing forward to clasp his friend's arm. "What the hell happened here? Where is everyone?"

Luca shook his head wearily, his voice rough with emotion. "It's bad, Roman. Really bad. Come on, I'll explain on the way."

As they hurried through the winding corridors of the castle, Luca filled them in on the grim situation. "Shadow creatures attacked out of nowhere," he said, his jaw clenching with barely suppressed rage. "Led by that witch, Wanda. They swept through the court like a plague, stealing the souls of any fae they could get their hands on."

"What about Queen Elara?" Adrian asked, his voice tight with worry. "And Rowan? Are they safe?"

Luca's face fell, his eyes filling with a profound sorrow that made Roman's heart clench. "The Queen… she was on the front lines, fighting to protect her people. She took a bad hit, Roman. Really bad. The healers are doing everything they can, but… it's not looking good."

Roman felt like he'd been punched in the gut, the air rushing out of his lungs in a painful whoosh. Queen Elara, the wise and compassionate ruler who had taken him in when he had nowhere else to go, who had given him a purpose and a place to belong… the thought of losing her was too much to bear.

"And Rowan?" he managed to choke out, his voice hoarse with emotion.

"He's with her now," Luca said softly, his eyes distant and filled with pain. "Hasn't left her side since it happened. He's… he's not doing well, Roman. None of us are."

Roman nodded, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. He couldn't even imagine what Rowan must be going through, the agony of watching the mother he adored slip away before his very eyes.

"There's something else," Luca said, his voice dropping to a whisper as they rounded a corner and entered a secluded alcove. "Rowan and the Queen they think there's a traitor in our midst."

"A traitor?" Christian hissed, his eyes flashing with anger. "Who would dare betray the Seelie Court?"

Luca shook his head, his expression grim. "We don't know. But whoever it is, they've done a damn good job of covering their tracks. We've been trying to root them out for weeks, but so far nothing."

Roman's mind was racing, trying to process the overwhelming flood of information. A traitor in the Seelie Court, Wanda on the loose, the Queen at death's door it was almost too much to comprehend.

"Alright," he said, his voice steady and filled with a quiet, unwavering determination. "First things first. We need to see the Queen, pay our respects and offer whatever support we can to Rowan. Then we'll start digging into this traitor business, see if we can't flush out the rat before they cause any more damage."

Luca nodded, a flicker of hope kindling in his eyes at Roman's words. "Rowan will be glad to see all of you," he said, managing a weak smile. "He needs all the friends he can get right now."

As they approached the Queen's chambers, Roman's heart grew heavier with each step. He couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled in his gut, the sense that something truly awful awaited them behind those ornate wooden doors.

Luca paused, his hand on the doorknob, and turned to face the group. "Brace yourselves," he warned, his voice low and somber. "She's hanging on, but only just."

With a deep breath, he pushed open the door, and they all filed into the room. The scene that greeted them was like a punch to the gut, stealing the air from Roman's lungs and making his heart clench with sorrow.

Queen Elara lay on the bed, her once-vibrant form now still and pale. Her chest rose and fell with shallow, labored breaths, each one seeming like a battle hard-fought and barely won. Rowan sat beside her, clutching her hand like a lifeline, while his brothers Aedan and Kieran flanked him on either side, their faces etched with grief and worry.

Roman stepped forward, bowing deeply in respect. "Your Highnesses," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "I am so sorry. How is she doing?"

Rowan looked up, his eyes red-rimmed and filled with a profound sorrow that made Roman's heart ache. "Not well," he said softly, his voice hoarse from crying. "I've tried everything, every healing spell and potion I know, but… it's not enough."

Luca was at his side in an instant, wrapping his arms around his mate and holding him close. "You've done all you can, love," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to Rowan's temple. "She knows that, and she's so proud of you. We all are."

Roman swallowed hard, fighting back the sting of his own tears. He could feel it now, the life force of the Queen growing dimmer and dimmer with each passing moment. It was like a candle flame sputtering in the wind, fighting to stay lit but ultimately doomed to be extinguished.

He stepped forward, laying a hand on Rowan's shaking shoulder. "What can we do?" he asked softly, his voice rough with emotion. "How can we help?"

Rowan shook his head, his shoulders slumping with exhaustion and despair. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I feel so helpless, so… so useless. I'm supposed to be a healer, a leader, and I can't even save my own mother."

Aedan reached out, clasping his brother's free hand in a gesture of comfort and support. "You're not useless, Rowan," he said firmly, his voice filled with conviction. "You're the strongest, bravest person I know. And you're not alone in this. We're here, all of us, and we'll stand by your side no matter what."

Kieran nodded, his own eyes shining with unshed tears. "Aedan's right," he said softly, his voice rough with emotion. "We're a family, now and always. And we'll get through this together, no matter how hard it gets."

Just as Kieran's words hung in the air, a soft, shuddering breath drew their attention back to the bed. Queen Elara's eyes fluttered open, hazy with pain but still filled with that same fierce, unwavering strength that had made her such a beloved ruler.

"Rowan," she whispered, her voice thin and reedy but still filled with love. "My son, my heart. Come closer, let me see you one last time."

Rowan was at her side in an instant, grasping her hand and bringing it to his lips. "Mother," he choked out, his voice breaking with emotion. "I'm here, I'm right here."

Queen Elara smiled, a soft, tender thing that made Roman's heart clench with sorrow. "I know you are, my love. You've always been there, always been the rock that our family and our kingdom could depend on."

She took a shuddering breath, her eyes drifting closed for a moment before opening again, filled with a quiet, unwavering resolve. "And now, it is time for you to lead them, Rowan. To be the king that the Seelie Court needs, the ruler that will guide them through these dark times and into the light of a new dawn."

Rowan shook his head, tears streaming down his face. "I can't," he whispered brokenly. "I can't do it without you, Mother. I'm not ready, I'm not strong enough…"

But Queen Elara just smiled, her hand squeezing his weakly. "You are," she said firmly, her voice filled with a conviction that brooked no argument. "You are ready, Rowan. You have been ready for a long time now. And I know, with every fiber of my being, that you will be a great king. A king that will make me proud, that will carry on the legacy of our family with honor and courage and compassion."

She turned her head, her gaze finding Aedan and Kieran. "And you, my brave boys. You will stand by your brother's side, will support him and guide him as he takes on this new role. For you are a family, now and always, and together… you can weather any storm, overcome any obstacle."

Aedan and Kieran nodded, their own eyes shining with tears as they reached out to clasp their mother's free hand. "We will, Mother," Aedan promised, his voice rough with emotion. "We'll make you proud, we swear it."

Queen Elara smiled, a final, beatific thing that seemed to light up the room with its radiance. "I love you all, so much. Never forget that."

And then, with a final sigh, her eyes drifted closed and her hand went slack in Rowan's grasp. For a moment, there was only silence, a stillness so profound that it seemed to swallow the world whole.

Rowan let out an anguished cry, his body wracked with sobs as he clung to his mother's lifeless form. Aedan and Kieran were at his side in an instant, their own faces streaked with tears as they tried to offer what little comfort they could.

Roman's heart ached for them, for the pain and the grief that he knew all too well. Losing a parent, a guiding light… it was a wound that never truly healed, a scar that you carried with you for the rest of your days.

But he also knew that they couldn't afford to lose themselves in their sorrow, not now. Not when there was so much at stake, so much that needed to be done.

He stepped forward, laying a gentle hand on Rowan's shaking shoulder. "Rowan," he said softly, his voice rough with emotion. "I know it hurts, I know it feels like the world has ended. But we need to keep moving forward, need to honor your mother's legacy and her final wishes."

Rowan looked up, his face a mask of grief and rage. "Riordan," he spat, his voice shaking with barely contained fury. "He did this, he took her from us. And I swear, on my life and my crown, that he will pay for what he's done."

Roman nodded, his own jaw clenching with grim determination. "He will, Rowan. I promise you that. But first, we need to lay your mother to rest, need to give her the funeral she deserves."

Luca stepped forward, his hand finding Rowan's and twining their fingers together. "Roman's right, love," he said softly, his voice filled with a quiet, unwavering strength. "The funeral ritual, it's… it's important. Not just for your mother, but for you, too. For all of us."

Rowan was quiet for a long moment, his eyes distant and filled with a pain that made Roman's heart ache. But finally, he nodded, his shoulders squaring with a newfound resolve. "Alright," he said, his voice hoarse but steady. "Let's… let's do it. For my mother, for our kingdom."

And so, with heavy hearts and a solemn sense of purpose, they began the preparations for the Queen's final journey. It was a ritual steeped in tradition, a rite of passage that had been performed for centuries, ever since the first Seelie King had passed beyond the veil.

First, the Queen's body was carefully wrapped in a shroud of shimmering fae fabric, a material so fine and delicate that it seemed to glow with an otherworldly light. Rowan and his brothers took on this task themselves, their hands gentle and reverent as they cocooned their mother in the soft, silken folds.

Next, a portal was opened, a shimmering doorway that would take them to the banks of the River of Souls. It was a sacred place, a boundary between the world of the living and the realm of the dead, where the spirits of the departed could find their way to the afterlife.

Roman and the others stepped through the portal, their hearts heavy with grief and their minds filled with memories of the Queen, of the light and the love that she had brought into their lives.

As they emerged on the other side, they were greeted by the sight of a small boat, its hull carved from the same shimmering fae wood as the Queen's shroud. Luca, Christian, Adrian, and James stepped forward, their hands steady and sure as they lifted the Queen's body and laid her gently in the bottom of the boat.

Rowan knelt beside her, his hand resting on her folded ones as he pressed a final, tender kiss to her brow. "Goodbye, Mother," he whispered, his voice choked with tears. "May your spirit find peace in the lands beyond, and may your memory live on in the hearts of all who loved you."

Aedan and Kieran stepped forward, each pressing their own farewell kisses to their mother's cool skin. And then, with a nod to Roman and the others, they stepped back, allowing Rowan to take his place at the head of the boat.

He began to chant, his voice low and melodic as he recited the ancient words of the funeral rite. It was a language that few now spoke, a tongue that had been passed down through generations of Seelie royalty, imbued with a power and a meaning that went beyond mere semantics.

As he spoke, the air around them began to shimmer and ripple, as if the very fabric of reality was bending to his will. The river began to glow, a soft, pulsing light that seemed to emanate from the depths of the water itself, casting the world in an ethereal, otherworldly glow.

And then, with a final, resounding word, Rowan raised his hand and the boat began to move. It drifted away from the shore, carried by an unseen current that seemed to guide it towards the heart of the river, towards the gateway to the lands beyond.

Roman watched, his heart in his throat, as the boat grew smaller and smaller in the distance. He could feel the magic in the air, the power that thrummed through the very stones beneath his feet, and he knew that this was a moment that would be remembered for generations to come.

Beside him, Aedan stepped forward, a bow in his hand and a quiver of arrows at his hip. He handed the bow to Rowan, his eyes shining with a mix of sorrow and pride as he watched his brother take up the sacred weapon.

Rowan nocked an arrow to the string, his hand steady and sure as he took aim at the distant boat. And then, with a whispered word of power, he set the arrow aflame, the fire dancing and flickering in the gathering dusk.

He loosed the arrow, and it soared through the air like a shooting star, a blazing comet that streaked towards its target with unerring precision. It struck the boat, and in an instant, the entire vessel was engulfed in flames, a pyre that burned bright and hot against the darkening sky.

They watched, silent and still, as the boat was consumed by the fire. As the Queen's body was reduced to ash and smoke, her spirit rising up to join the countless others that had passed through the veil before her.

And as the last embers flickered and died, as the river returned to its gentle, lapping flow… Roman felt a sense of peace wash over him. A sense of rightness, of inevitability, that even in the midst of their sorrow and their grief, there was still hope to be found.

Because the Queen's legacy would live on, in the hearts and the minds of all who had loved her. In the strength and the courage of her sons, in the wisdom and the compassion of the people she had led and inspired.

And as Rowan turned to face them, his eyes shining with a fierce, unbreakable resolve, Roman knew that the Queen's legacy would live on. It would endure in the hearts and minds of all who had loved her, in the strength and courage of her sons, and in the wisdom and compassion of the people she had led and inspired.

But even as that thought crossed his mind, Roman could see the rage simmering beneath the surface of Rowan's grief. It was a fire that burned hot and bright, a fury that threatened to consume everything in its path.

"Roman," Rowan said, his voice low and intense. "I need you to take us back to the castle. We have work to do."

Roman nodded, his jaw clenching with grim determination. "Of course, Rowan. Whatever you need."

Rowan turned to his brothers, his eyes flashing with purpose. "Aedan, I need you to call a meeting in the throne room. Gather everyone who's still loyal to the crown, everyone who's willing to fight for our kingdom."

Aedan bowed his head, his hand coming to rest on the hilt of his sword. "It will be done, brother."

"And Kieran," Rowan continued, his gaze shifting to his youngest sibling. "I need you to send word to King Oliver and Queen Lydia. Tell them what's happened here, and let them know that we're going to need their help if we're going to take down Riordan and his army of darkness."

Kieran's face was pale but determined as he nodded. "I'll leave at once, Rowan. They'll stand with us, I know they will."

Roman felt a swell of pride in his chest as he watched the brothers, as he saw the strength and the unity that bound them together. They were young, barely more than boys in the eyes of the fae, but they carried themselves with a grace and a dignity that belied their years.

And as they made their way back to the castle, as they stepped through the shimmering portal and into the heart of the Seelie Court, Roman could feel the weight of what was to come settling onto his shoulders like a mantle.

War. It was a word that tasted bitter on his tongue, a concept that made his stomach churn with dread and his heart ache with the knowledge of what it would cost them all.

But it was also a necessity, a duty that they could not shy away from. Not if they wanted to protect their people, to safeguard the realms from the darkness that threatened to swallow them whole.

And so, as they gathered in the throne room, as they stood before the assembled might of the Seelie Court's army, Roman watched as Rowan stepped forward, his head held high and his eyes blazing with a fierce, unbreakable resolve.

"My mother, our Queen, is dead," he said, his voice ringing out clear and strong in the hushed silence of the room. "Murdered by the same evil that now seeks to destroy everything we hold dear."

A murmur rippled through the crowd, a wave of shock and sorrow and barely contained fury. But Rowan held up a hand, his gaze sweeping over the sea of faces before him.

"I know you're angry," he said, his voice softening with understanding. "I know you're hurting, just as I am. But we cannot let our grief cloud our judgment, cannot let our rage blind us to what needs to be done."

He paused, his eyes locked with Roman's for a long, charged moment. And in that gaze, Roman saw the weight of a thousand unsaid things, the depth of a bond that went beyond mere friendship or loyalty.

"We are the guardians of the light," Rowan continued, his voice rising with passion and conviction. "The champions of the realms, the ones who stand between the darkness and the innocent lives it would consume."

He slammed his fist against the arm of the throne, the sound echoing like a thunderclap in the stillness of the room. "And by the gods, we will not falter now. We will not let Riordan and his minions destroy everything we have fought so hard to protect."

A cheer went up from the assembled warriors, a roar of approval and bloodlust that made the very walls of the castle tremble. And as Roman watched, as he saw the fire that blazed in every eye and the determination that set every jaw…

He knew that they would follow Rowan to the ends of the earth, would charge into the jaws of hell itself if he asked it of them. Because he was their King now, their leader and their guiding light.

And he would not let them down, would not rest until the realms were safe and the darkness was banished back to the shadows from whence it came.

"Prepare yourselves," Rowan said, his voice ringing out like a clarion call. "Sharpen your blades, strengthen your shields, and steel your hearts for the battle to come."

Another cheer, another roar of approval that shook the very foundations of the castle. And as Roman watched, as he saw the fire that blazed in Rowan's eyes and the set of his jaw…

He knew that they would win this fight, would emerge victorious from the ashes of this conflict. Because they had to, because there was no other choice.

For the sake of their people, for the memory of their fallen Queen, for the love and the light that bound them all together…