Chapter 312 - Purple Tendrils
Instinctively, Anastasia's voice soared from her lips and came out in soft notes of music in the form of purple tendrils, the color of hydrangea. The notes hit against the entranced dancers and there was a crackle. She backed up a little, as the darkness around them started to wriggle, trying to resist the magic of the music, but it still clung to them.
But Anastasia didn't stop, not even once doubting that she could sing her magic out, and that her song would carry the magic she intended. Notes continued to come out of her throat in purple tendrils. She closed her eyes and stroked her emotions for the right notes, for the right magic.
The serpent-like form twisted and turned and writhed, lashing its tail on the floor. Every time it lashed its tail, inky sand grains would fall apart. It went back to the dancers and tried to choke one of them, but soon gave up because the song induced pain. It lashed its tail at another dancer, who was flung some at the far corner of the hall. She hit the wall and slumped to the ground, unconscious.
The audience watched all of it in horror. Some even stood up, shouting foul. Their hands crackled with magic, but they couldn't move from their places. It was as if they had been chained there. The serpent writhed in more pain, but surprisingly the rest of the dancers kept on dancing.
Anastasia's music soared into a very high pitch. It became so high that the audience had to plug their ears. Knowing that it would adversely affect them, Ileus cast a spell around the center of a sound barrier. Now the song was heard only by the dancers and him.
The song Anastasia sang carried frustration, anguish and love. It felt like a sharp, powerful energy that sliced through the spell on the dancers who all of a sudden, stopped dancing. Their yellow ribbons dropped. They stared at the fae princess, who was still singing, purple tendrils flowing out of her lips, with wings that rustled and then flared wide open. It was her powerful magic that no one in the kingdom of Draoidh could match.
As for Ileus—he was seeing his wife sing for the first time. Her voice was so melodious that it was as if his soul was snatched from his body. If he wasn't already ruined, he was going to be… forever. The melody seemed to come out of her soul and it flooded all his senses. If he—the dark wizard, had this kind of an effect, he didn't know what the audience would have felt if he hadn't put a spell over there. And then, he covered his ears because it was impossible to take the music anymore for it shredded his soul. He pitied the dancers, for he didn't know what effect her song had on them.
Her music had broken into so many notes, every note was tailored for one individual. Gods, the woman was powerful beyond words, and these idiots—they wanted to go against her. His eyes stung with tears, which he wanted to keep for her, and wanted to shed only for her.
His gaze travelled to the dark form of the serpent who was unable to bear the notes of the music. It was as if the notes were burning it from the inside.
Half of the dancers dropped their ribbons and kneeled on the ground in reverence while the rest just stood there, transfixed, as if they had grown roots in the ground. Tears flowed out of their eyes. They wanted to become one with their deity. Her song was like a lullaby on their tarnished souls, like a warm wrap over their emotional wounds. It soothed and healed the blemishes of their life. They heard her sing,
In the midst of the dark night
Bedazzling stars shine their light
Come with me to seek that dazzle
And then we will be special
I am not an illusion
I come with a resolution
Our hearts dance in fusion
Let me heal your soul
Let me embrace you
Our love steers us to the light
A promise which bounds us tight
The music I sing is for you
Do you feel the notes like honeydew?
Or just its flowery residue?
Look at the night sky again, my dear
Because the stars dazzle across it like diamonds for you
The magic kept coming out of her mouth weaving the spells one after the other. The purple tendrils continued to swim in the air, wafting the soft aroma of hydrangea. Her voice broke in a multitude of notes, each one of them more beautiful than the last one, laced with her feelings and energy.
When Anastasia was about to reach the last of the notes, she noticed that the serpent of dark sand grains was writhing and twisting. And as it lashed its tail and body, a form started revealing itself, it started becoming corporeal.
The dancers were least bothered, still sitting or standing in their places, completely under the effect of her spell.
Suddenly—
"Stoppppp it!" A voice shrieked when all the grains shed away and shape of a naked woman came into existence. Her nose and mouth were bleeding. She wobbled her way towards the podium but sank on the floor, her body a complete mess. She felt as if her body was about to explode.
The audience gasped and looked at her with shock and fear.
One of them pointed out, "That's the High Priestess!"
"Oh god!"
"Is she mad?"
"What was she doing?"
Anastasia stopped singing. "Tamara," she said with a knowing look. "You should have taken up my proposition." She took a step closer to the witch. "I had my doubts that you wouldn't leave this place so easily."
Tamara got up from her place, her head reeling. She was unsteady on her feet. "Your proposition was faulty. You see that I had to be your emissary in the Lore, speak good words about you in the Lore, but— but—" She sank on her feet again. There was so much pain directed at her soul that she coughed blood. "But I wasn't bound to it in the kingdom of Draoidh." Blood trickled over her throat, her breasts and towards her belly. She felt like she would explode. Using her dark magic that she had borrowed from one of her political connections, a woman who was a minister in the council, she wanted to get back at Anastasia. How dare the fae princess throw her out of her home? From the minister she had come to know that the crown prince would be taking his bride-to-be to Level three and this was her chance to get back. However, she wasn't ready for this kind of magic.
"And look what you have gotten yourself into?" Anastasia said with an angered smile that reached her violet eyes. "Look behind you. The haters who you thought would support you are now under my control."
Tamara turned her head over her shoulders and found all of them ensnared. They looked at Anastasia as if— as if she was their goddess. "How is it possible?" she said with disbelief. "They did not share the food with you, nor did they offer you anything?"