The chamber was plunged into a discomforting silence. Gars tightened his fingers around the pill pouch as shadows danced around his feet. He vanished!
`Above ground, the elven capital was filled with the grunts of passerby elves and the curses of merchants. The riots had done nothing but grow even bigger.
The elven guards stood their ground before the Palace gates, a cold look in their eyes. They disdained these commoners. How easily they were swayed.
They believed they were fighting for the protection of their elven race entirely unaware that their anger was being maliciously steered by invisible forces.
After a series of meticulous strategies, Phillis was finally able to leave the palace unnoticed. He stood within the chambers of the Gardenian council room facing the battle charts on the black stone walls. He twirled the black dagger between his fingers silently leaking malevolence. The council elders sat silently around the black marble table not daring to breathe too loud.
"Execute 'black garden' before midnight today!"
Phillis threw the black dagger, stabbing it accurately at the 'black garden' plans on the wall. He smoothened the front of his emerald weave robes, his fingers brushing against the golden embroidered twin willows on his sleeve.
He smiled in contempt, his eyes shining with abundant confidence.
He was going to win this time around!
He flapped his wide sleeves and vanished in a blinding flash of pale green light. Before the lights died down, his voice resounded in the silent council room;
"Stop the riots too..!"
Afterall his cover couldn't be blown by a group of senseless citizens.
The seated Gardenian elders wiped the sweat from their foreheads collectively releasing a sigh of relief. The pressure was overwhelming.
Gars got up and stood before his fellow elders;
"You all heard his highness…, It is time to execute 'black garden'…"
He smirked at the end of his statement, the others grinned, their eyes shining with a malevolent light. Their bloods boiling with excitement.
******
As the skies over the elven realm turned darker, the streets grew silent and the elves had all gone to their families.
Smoke from the chimneys of the lower districts drifted over the gated estates of the upper canopy, where the kingdom's noble families and even the royal family resided. Raven had stayed at the Fyor Estate when she first left the white walls of the hospital before moving into the Royal Palace.
Despite the riots, the aristocratic houses had maintained a sense of arrogant security. They were the bloodlines of the realm;
The Fyor's, The Telaviv's, The Moonbrook's, The Vine's, The Silver's, The Fae's and the smallest; The Tauriel's.
Across the high district, shadows slipped through shadow. A hundred elite assassins, the finest of the Gardenian cult, moved with terrifying, synchronized precision. Clad in light, soundless black leather, they bypassed the outer perimeter guards with practiced ease.
At the Fyor estate, four Gardenian elites scaled the gold and obsidian boundary walls without making a sound. As the estate of medical practitioners, the security was particularly tight but they still posed no threat to the swift assassins. The estates wards designed to trigger an alarm at the presence of an intruder remained entirely silent; Phillis had made early preparations.
Inside the grand manor, the young master of the Fyor estate; Engar sat at the writing desk in his room, his eyes bright with keen interest in his medical discoveries. He was two years younger than the eighteen-year-old Princess and a year younger than Raven and the prince. It was in the Fyor's DNA to be wrapped in the marvels of herbs and healing.
A cold chill swept through the interior of the room making Engar shiver. He looked up from his books with a frown on his face. His windows were open. He was sure he had closed them before. Another chill crept up his spine, before he could reach for the alarm bell, a gloved hand clamped over his mouth. A blade coated with a paralyzing agent pricked the side of his neck.
"Not a sound…, little bird." A cold voice whispered in his ear. Similar scenes unfolded simultaneously across the seven different noble houses including the royal palace.
At the Moonbrook estate, the two heirs of the first and second branch of Grand Marshal Vigil Moonbrook were pulled from their chambers, their wands snatched before they could utter a single incantation. At the Tauriel Estate, the young master; Alvion was cornered in the estate gardens, bound instantly in shimmering obsidian chains engineered to absorb all mana.
The operation was swift and silent. All the 23 noble children from all the noble families were stolen away in a silent kidnapping.
Phillis wasn't one to cower. The King had given him a chance why shouldn't he take it. Afterall,
'A dead heir is a martyr; a captive heir is a leash.'
Within two hours, the hundred elite assassins converged back to the underground chambers of the Gardenian cult. Slung across their shoulders or dragged bound and silent were the entire next generation of the Alvea's ruling class. The noble scions. The sons, daughters, and immediate heirs of the seven houses most loyal to the king, had vanished without a single alarm blaring off. Without a single guard taking notice.
Deep beneath the grounds of the elven capital, A garden of blooming black roses and black orchids filled the cold air with an alluring fragrance. Within the damp walls, life bloomed.
The hostages were brought to a chamber right at the center of this rose filled garden. The chamber was a massive amphitheater surrounded by towering pillars of black basalt. The floor was carved with intricate, glowing green runes that hummed with a low, oppressive resonance, suppressing any attempt at magic casting or even mana circulation. At least for those with chains binding their limbs. They were cut off from every form of energy.
One by one, the young nobles were forced onto their knees in the center of the ring. Panic was settling in. Whispers of confusion and terror bubbled up among them as they recognized each other underneath the glow of the pale green lights and faintly glowing runes.
"Engar? Is that you..?" Raine Silver; the heir to the Silver House whispered, his voice trembling but still cold as always.
"Raine! Its nice to see you too!" Engar said with a light smile on his lips.
They both turned to look around at the others they had guessed were their fellow noble youngins.
Raine gasped lightly as he struggled to move towards his younger siblings.
"Regis, Rumiel, Rianne, Runas, Raisha…, it's me. I'm coming over!" His brows were furrowed and his lips pulled into a cold thin line.
"Brother! What's going on?, who are these people?" The siblings were shivering with terror. Raisha; the youngest already had tears running down her cheeks.
"It's okay…, I'm here. We'll be fine" He forced a smile on his face as he coaxed his little siblings.
Engar scanned the crowd trying to find his own siblings. They at the far side of the chamber, with his position, he couldn't get to them at all plus, the paralyzing agent had yet to wear off completely. He raised his bound hands and snapped his fingers in a pattern only they would understand. A whistle spread out in the hall, his sibling responding with corresponding snaps of their fingers.
He had done what he could. He crawled slowly and met up with Regis and his siblings, sighing lightly.
"They bypassed all the wards in our estates. That shouldn't be possible Unless…."
"There's a mole…" As the top two geniuses in the elven empire. It wasn't that hard to come to this conclusion.
"Silence!"
The harsh command echoed from the elevated platform above them.
Varis stepped into the light, flanked by light armored Gardenian enforcers holding daggers made from black steel.
The murmurs died down, replaced by a tense, heavy dread.
Slowly, from the darkness behind the platform, Phillis emerged. He was draped in his usual heavy emerald robes, his silver and emerald mask catching the light.
He walked to the edge of the platform, his steps slow and heavy. Anyone could tell he was born with elegance ingrained in his bones.
He looked down at the twenty-three bound youths and children.
"Welcome to the black garden…"Phillis said, his voice carrying to every corner of the vast chamber. It was calm, warm and at the same time chilling with unspoken authority that made the children flinch.
"No need to be scared…, It would all be over soon. I know you all are undoubtedly wondering why you've been dragged into the darkness without cause, no worries, You'll all be free… When I succeed!"
"You won't get away with this..!" Ashar said through gritted teeth. He was Kneeling in a corner on the far side of the chamber deeply shrouded by shadows. No one knew he was there until he spoke. There was hope for them, even if their parents couldn't find them. The King would surely never give up on his son.
Phillis let out a soft, dry chuckle sending shivers down the spines of every kneeling inhabitant of the chamber.
His eyes glowed a deep shade of eerie green, black colored mana shrouded his entire being as his soft chuckles broke out into a fit of mad laughter.
"Who's going to stop me…? Even your King has no idea what I can do! What right does he have to stand in my way?"
A few dreadful moments later, Phillis used his fingers to comb through his golden locks.
"Send the birds…!"
Varis bowed slightly as he went off to deliver messages.