Chapter 631: The Harbinger of Death Introduces Her Seneschal (Part One)
As the last attendees of the grand banquet were guided to their seats, the hall began to grow darker. Attendees could easily be forgiven for feeling that the slight fading in the light accompanied the setting of the sun, but the sun had set over an hour ago, turning the windows of the great hall into pools of inky blackness that offered only occasional glimpses of the brightly lit festival below as the celebration continued into the night.
The darkness collecting in the great hall crept in from the corners of the ceiling, slowly descending as it enveloped the gilded chandeliers. The light from above wasn’t swallowed completely by the growing darkness, but the brilliant flames were reduced to tiny pinpricks of light, reflected by the dangling crystals like stars in the night sky.
By now, everyone in the hall could feel the cloak of darkness descending on them, and with it, a chill feeling that crept along their necks, whispering in their ears so faintly that it was hard to be certain if there had been a sound at all. Conversation stilled at every table, and all eyes slowly turned to the long table on a raised dais at the head of the hall.
The darkness spread further, creeping in from the walls and turning the great hearths into pools of golden firelight that felt like the last refuge of warmth in a world that had grown dark, silent and cold. In the darkness, every sound was muffled, leaving the guests with nothing to hear but the sound of their own heartbeats thundering in their ears.
"I have returned," Nyrielle said simply, though her voice echoed off the walls, rippling with power and carrying with it the feeling that she both shouted from the impossibly distant depths of the void and whispered into each person’s ears at the very same time.
Sitting at tables across the hall, natives of the Vale of Mists swallowed heavily, freezing in their seats as they felt the power of the Eldritch Lady of the Vale for the first time in their lives. There were very few guests who had lived their lives in the Vale who hadn’t seen Lady Nyrielle before, but none of them had ever seen such an overwhelming display of power from their ruler.
Most knew her from her visits to the villages when she needed to feed. During those visits, she was often gentle, showing respect to the people who offered themselves up to sustain her life and the lives of her progeny. She treated her people as treasures to be protected and thanked them for their contributions to the rest of the Vale.
Now, for the first time in their lives, they were feeling a hint of their lady’s terrifying power and hearing a voice that could never be mistaken for one belonging to a woman who was merely mortal.
"The Vale of Mists welcomes the return of the Harbinger of Death," Commander Bassinger’s deep, rumbling voice echoed across the hall once the bearish commander had collected himself enough to stand. "May her reign be eternal!"
"May her reign be eternal!"
The imperious shout echoed from the throats of more than fifty warriors and soldiers sitting at tables throughout the great hall, including the giant Tuscan, Ipiktok, startling many of the common folk as the strength of the cry shook their hearts. Some clutched at their clothing, looking about as if they were afraid that an invading army had descended on them in the darkness, while others blinked in confusion at the unfamiliar title. Harbinger of Death?