Chapter 231: The Smiting
Chandea, Year of Severus, 21st, I.R., the 79th day of Spring, Ardantean Township, Nhils' Il Bucay Outskirts
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Orphella's heart beat violently inside its bony cage. All eyes were on her, an magical elf, as what Lamentosza told her. Most of the people from the West thought of the faerfolk as direct descendants of the gods, whether it was the truth or not, she didn't care at the point. All she wanted was to get her mission done and be reunited with her friends. Seeing them alive and well was the best reward she could ever have.
A flowing, colorful dress distracted her from her thoughts. The dancers hovered all over the stage, dancing gracefully in their lavishly made dress, created from the finest silk, colored by the best dyes in the western continent, and adorned with precious gems that made rhythmic clicking sounds as they swayed their bodies.
The drums began to mellow down and the reed instruments began. The wonderful music from the flutes sounded like birds singing. Their piece began with an upbeat tone and then a melancholic chorus. She repeatedly counted the dancers' movement along with flutes' accompaniment and realized her piece was about to begin.
As the music went back to its jolly tune, the dancers jumped and swirled around the stage like graceful birds courting their mates. One heavy stomp and jump, then the flute chorused a sharp, yet sweet tune. As the dancers landed on the stage, the flutes stopped and now, it was her turn.
Orphella took a deep breath, composing herself for her piece. Her hands felt frozen from anxiety, but she had to work it. She reached for the first cord and strummed it gently. The first sound her harp (Papillon) made was heavy, a sign of another melancholic part of the musical piece. She looked around and saw how the audience including General Maharmoud waited for her to continue.
She strummed another cord, then another until her musical piece was beginning to unveil. The single sound of her harp echoed throughout the garden. No one was making a sound aside from her, and even the dancers where still kneeling on the ground waiting for their turn to once again show their flamboyance.
The more she strummed her harp, the more she became confident with her piece. She made a slight pause and stood up from her stool to look at the audience. In that short pause she readied herself for the part of her piece. As the audience sat with batted breath, she strummed her harp hard sending a message to the audience to listen to her.
As the dancers slowly stood up from her signal, she continued playing the harp but this time it was in a fast-paced tone. The dancers joined to the tune of her music and stomped on the stage before clapping their hands rhythmically. Not to long, the drums began to grumble on the background. She continued on with the piece, looking violently beautiful as she strummed her harp as hard as she could. She got lost in the music, and for a moment forgot what her true purpose was.
The dancers jumped and swirled once again like feathers blown in the wind. As they reached the climax, she felt her fingers numbing but it was too good to stop now. She carried on and until the piece ended with a sweet note of her harp. She strummed it for the last time and gave the audience a delightful end. By the end of the performance, she stood their catching her breath as the crowd was still perfectly silent.
One by one, the audience began to clap. It started as a low pitter patter of raindrops, then all of the sudden, it became a downpour. The claps became thunderous and deafening. Everyone stood up from their seats and yelled for more, but unfortunately, that was all the time given to them. She went down the stage and noticed the general speaking to the announcer once again, this time she saw him point at her.
They left the garden and went into a serene, yet wide space just near the estate's gate. They sat there with contented smiles. All the while being handed food from one of the general's servants. She was slowly approached by some of the troupe members praising her for such a powerful performance. All she could do was bow her head to hide the tinge of red creeping on her face.
As a small crowd of performers were surrounding her, the troupe leader inserted herself from the circle and asked everyone to leave her alone. The troupe leader was met with sour faces as the other performers left her alone. Once they were alone, he immediately spoke to her about the general.
"He wants you in his chambers later tonight." He whispered in her ear.
Orphella felt digusted, however, it was also the only opening she had to assassinate the vile man. Without any second thoughts, she nodded and smiled to the troupe leader. The troupe leader's eyes brightened. It seemed like he has been threatened by the general just to get to her, nevertheless, it was now her perfect time to execute the plan.
She was instructed to knock at a small door hidden at the back of a marbled pillar at the far end of the garden. She was also instructed to go there just as soon as the moon shone brightly at the middle of the sky. All of these she agreed to.
Bringing Papillon with her still disguised as a harp, she went back into the garden at the exact time she was asked to be there. She arrived at the dark garden. The once vibrant and lively garden was now empty and serene. There were no more silks hanging around the pillars and the big gazebo was no longer on sight.
She walked past rows of beautiful blooming red roses, lined on the side of the path where the secret door was supposed to be. As reached the end of the garden she noticed a torch in front of the small door. Orphella looked around to check if there were other doors aside from it, however, it was the only one there. The small door was on a big wall filled with plastered paintings of beasts and men killing each other, surrounded by a fiery ring.
"Beautiful, is it not?" A smooth yet thick accented voice of a man startled Orphella.
She looked around, and saw from the shadows emerged general Maharmoud, clad in his white elegant clothing and gold. He smiled at her revealing his glimmering golden teeth. Orphella tried her best not to show her real emotion. She bowed to her respectfully and knelt at his feet.
"Please, you do not have to do that." The general said. "Stand up and face me like how you would face a friend." He added.
Orphella stood up and looked at him straight in the eyes. The general didn't look away, instead he welcomed her gaze with his own. The general's eyes had painted fire and blood all over them. His ruthlessness overflowed from his soul and was reflecting in his eyes, and yet there was a certain gentleness inside of it as well.
"Well," General Maharmoud cleared his throat. "I called you here for a private audience. Would you care to take a gander at it?" He smiled.
Orphella smiled back and took out her harp. She looked at the general with her eyes asking on what song she had to play. The general for some, reason understood her gaze and answered.
"The Ballad of Scherezade." He smiled.
Orphella nodded and began to play the song. She started to strum her harp when she realized how accurate Lamentosza's information gathering was. She praised him for her accuracy, as she recalled how Lamentosza told her to study the ballad of Scherezade, because it was thought to be the general's favorite song.
She started to hum along with the strumming her delicate fingers made. The music was immaculate. It was a sad tune filled with regret and pain. The melody was grating her heart painfully and she couldn't help but shed a tear or two. She looked at him as well and saw the sadness in his face.
Orphella continued to play for him, when she noticed, her eyes were beginning to feel heavy. She shook it off and strummed the harp harder, but her shoulder suddenly felt heavy. She knew something was wrong at that point, but she didn't want the general to realize what was happening.
She played on while mentally talking to Papillon. However, she wasn't getting any answer from her weapon. She began to panic, but she couldn't show it to the general. As she spiraled into despair, she calmly finished the piece, a testament to her focus.
The general clapped after wiping the tears in his eyes. "Marvelous! Marvelous!" He said. "I am already content with your music!" He smiled.
Orphella bowed at him hiding the anxiety that was eating her slowly.
"I would've loved to bed you as well!" He grinned. "I have never bedded with an Eastern elf before, but sadly, I don't bed with would be assassins."
Orphella's eyes widened as she looked at him in terror. The general's mood began to change, and his smiled became a grotesquely sadistic grin. She held her weapon tightly and tried to make it transform, however, it was not responding. Soon, the armed guards came out of the darkness with their spears pointing at her.