Set in stone {31}

The prince wept. As was expected of him.

Standing in one of the many rows, the royals were seated at the front.

Liam could not sit straight, his body unwilling and completely disconnected from his mind.

The only thing that replayed on his mind was his mother's words; ignoring the heart that at each scene screamed.

Tears were streaming down his face at the terrorising realisation sinking in... hard.

He was saying goodbye to his mother; his saviour, inspiration, the one always giving him the guidance that he needed.

It was as if all this time, he was truanting on his emotions, so stressed about the kingdom and the mysteries that buried in his pocket, that the deep deep grief slammed in him now could fully surface.

Releasing waves; endless streams of emotions, trickling one by one, making him feel lighter yet heavier at the exact same time.

The words that were spoken by the head of the temple brought all who attended to tears.

All except the King.

Bitterness and hatred shone brightly in his hazel eyes for the kings lack of respect as he glanced to his side.

Even if she meant nothing to him, which he had suspected, she was still a Queen; someone to be respected and cherished no matter what.

The temple itself, was hand carved from glistening, smoothed stone that was like a giant cave in the forest.

It rounded off the bordering village and was visited frequently.

Originally, in the Kingdoms early days, the first settlers had lived in the cave, and in commemoration, was carved to form the very intricate temple hundreds stood in today. Weddings, funerals, royal occasions of the highest honour where held here, being assaigned one master close to the royal family.

A friend almost.

The master was the person -followed by their bloodline over generations- who kept the temple in pristine condition.

From its pillars, to its inscriptions, each part was thought out, had a purpose, and for it to be disrespected by allowing another king of a foreign land in, let alone a tyrant... disgusted every fibre of Liams body.

He reeled in his anger, something that was dangling on a fine line of string, and focused his attention on the alter towering over them.

His mothers burial...

Thousands of candles decorated the steps up to it. And resting behind all Southern Royals who ever lived, were buried.

There to lie with their ancestors, to join them as spirits.

Hundreds upon hundreds of people were huddled into the sacred temple, all wishing their farewells to the fallen Queen.

The stench of sadness and utter pain rolled of each and every individual; suffocation, with intense feelings wrapping around his throat.

He could barely breath as the arch of the carved stone angel rose above her tomb.

A symbol of hope.

A symbol of piece.

It's light was shining brightly in their otherwise dense and dark hearts.

Liam slammed his eyes shut, allowing the salty water to trickle down his flushed face, to his parted lips, where the tears filled with compassion and regret collected.

He hated this feeling. Despised it. Weakness. He hated feeling weak when it controlled his limbs, and causes his knees to buckle beneath him.

Was this the damage of loosing one close to you?

His eyelids parted, the hazel eyes pinning on the tomb once more as he kneeled for the last recension to be read.

Everyone followed his actions swiftly after, as no one could kneel unless the royals did first.

Liam's mind went blank as his heart was placed on his shoulder as he said painfully and with a struggled breath.

"Goodbye Mother. May you rest for all eternity in the angelic wings of peace"

~

Aloysia's heart clenched at the painful sob leaving the Prince's lips. The sound of agonising pain. She knew it all too well.

He unknowingly bathed in that emotion emanating powerfully off him.

It struck her hard in the chest, the grief almost washing over her, as she watched and became witness to his world crashing down around him.

Aloysia was not stationed in the temple, God's above no-

She would be spotted too easily and caught by any wondering eyes...

Instead, she was hanging off the temple front peering in.

The stone callused by age into rubble was holding her upright, but was not pleasant to her fingertips. Yet she bore it, relishing in the aching of her limbs as she hung, grateful for the silence and chance to say goodbye that came with it.

How no one had managed to spot her yet remained a mystery, but a slight suspicion arose with it being her brothers doing.

He knew how important the Queen was to Aloysia, and so ensured her safety while he allowed her to observe the ceremony.

And for that, she was ever grateful.

Her head dipped, eyes glossing over at the sight.

Even with the hood shielding her face, no cloth could protect anyone from the sincerity of people's voices at the loss for their Queen.

The banners surrounding the entrance and the street buildings spoke volumes of this kingdoms grieving. It was a true loss.

Aloysia thought she had released the deep gurgling on that rooftop, tried to control it... only to fail... and she had, yet for once, at the sight of that angel resting upon the Queens tomb, it cowered away... as if afraid; giving her enough strength to pull back on the reins to how she had hoped she could do in the first place.

Aloysia did not complain or even think of complying it to consume her instincts once again.

If anything, she was glad it had backed off, again, another entity allowing her to say goodbye to Celimine.

~

Over time the procession came to an end, mixed emotions flying haywire, making the stifled air hard to inhale without choking.

The sun was dimming, melting into the horizon, as they had spent the entire day in the temple, leaving the cover of darkness for The Shadow to thrive in.

The time had come.

Aloysia would allow it to invade her senses, to penetrate her mind and consume control of it without it alluding her as it did before; and indeed it did.

Filling every inch of her body with the roaring power simmering at her fingertips, the familiar pain surged up her spine, setting her crimson eyes alight.

She grunted as reality soon became a hazy distance away, and honing in on her was the instinct to kill...

Her grip on the statue above the entrance way of the temple became stronger, almost crumbling with the force of her hand's grip.

It was alive, and Aloysia had grown to have minimal control over it, enough to call upon it when in need, but not enough to suppress it.

That, was not chosen by her.

Aloysia's body began to stir with anticipation, her feline grace ready to pounce.

The plan was simple.

Get the Prince out, distract the King long enough for Zelek to slip away undetected to search for Zillah in a castle containing less guards, and gain any intel of the Kings next move.

She grinned.

Her mind was pulled from its reciting of the details when murmuring caught her attention.

Shuffling of footsteps signalled people flowing out the temple, all residing mortifying faces of grief and pain.

Little did they know that the agony, the despair only enhanced Aloysia's surging hunger deep within.

And that the most feared assassin, once again dawning her legendary hood was lurking, stalking them like predator to prey right above their noses.

The feral smirk returned as her cloak swayed with her-

It was about to get a hole lot worse...