The witches' kingdom - TOG series

Chapter 9 | Welcome home

Manon POV

After several days of flight, despite the fatigue, a mixture of excitement and anticipation filled the air as we approached our new home, Wyvern Town.

The journey had been long, but our people was resilient, and the beginning of a new chapter was the driving force behind us. There was no longer fear of everything that could go wrong, nor was there sadness for all that we had left behind; there was an immense determination in all of us. In that very moment, I realized I couldn't be prouder to be the queen of the witches.

I had never seen those lands before, but my skin tingled under the sun, and my entire being was absolutely certain that I was where I was meant to be. Even Abraxos was frantic; we covered the last stretch at an epic speed, as if we couldn't delay our arrival for a second longer.

Where I expected to see destruction and untamed, rugged land, there stretched fields of green unlike any I had ever seen, in contrast to the fields of red poppies that made it magical. I had never taken the time to appreciate the beauty of colors, how they vibrated under the sun. It had taken me almost 200 years to discover that green was my favorite color.

At the top of the hill was Witches Hill, crowning the beautiful land that surrounded it, and crossed by two rivers, Antia on the right side, and Astere on the left, named after two of the first witches.

Silence fell as we all gazed down upon our home from above, a resilient peopla that had been fractured and pitted against each other for hundreds of years, condemned to death and exile, now finding the refuge they had longed for. It seemed that after all those years of suffering, our home was welcoming us with this display of beauty and color.

We had believed that after so much violence and hatred, we didn't deserve what lay before us, not realizing that perhaps we had been robbed of the opportunity to be different, and after our immense sacrifice, we deserved a fresh start.

The nearly 10,000 witches who had survived the last battle in Terrassen, and some who had joined us along the way, landed our griffins and broomsticks in one of the fields closest to the hill.

"Welcome home," I said solemnly, looking at them from atop Abraxos. At that moment, spontaneous cheers erupted, and all the pent-up tension burst into a sudden outpouring of joyous shouts. I couldn't help but join them, arms raised high.

Dorian POV

The journey back home by land seemed endless to me. Several times, I was tempted to transform into a wyvern to join Manon's group without being seen. But I couldn't evade my responsibilities; I was the current King of Adarlan, and I had to return home to my people.

Since the last time I had been in Adarlan, I wasn't sure how my people would accept me. I didn't deserve to be king; I had killed innocent people, and I was the son of the King who had kept Erilea captive for centuries, inflicting the most horrendous sufferings remembered.

The last thing I remembered was that the city had been taken by the Yellowlegs, and everything was in ruins. People were starving in the streets, and criminals ranrampant in the city. I silently appreciated having Chaol's unwavering company because the times ahead were not going to be pleasant. Yrene's company, of course, had made the days of the journey more bearable. She had told me everything about her life in the tower, all her plans for the future, and she was eager to learn more about me and... about Manon. Just thinking about her made me want to run to her side and hide in her tower in Wyvern Town.

After many hours of listening to all her plans, I inevitably agreed to the construction of a tower in Rifthold for all the healers who wanted to learn. Yrene and her magic had more than proven their worth, and I was sure she would make everything work in no time, even while taking care of her future baby.

Not far from the tower, we planned to build a training center for the wyverns they had found and for the rukhin who had decided to stay. Having an aerial legion excited me, especially knowing that Manon had committed to training them, making everything easier.

Nervousness gripped me as the procession began to move through the city streets toward what remained of the castle. I expected chaos and destruction, jeers at our entrance, but it wasn't like that. During the war, the people who had remained in the city had taken it upon themselves to rebuild the most damaged parts during the Yellowlegs' attack, and despite the looming famine, there were people in the streets welcoming us with cheers and hope. I hadn't realized how much they needed a king to stabilize the city again. After all my people had suffered, they deserved someone worthy.

In the distance, I saw the partially ruined castle where I had grown up with my family, where I had nearly died, and where I had discovered who my father was. I hoped at least part of it was still habitable, although I was sure neither Chaol nor I would feel comfortable living there.

During my absence, the Count of Oblia, the second most populous city in Adarlan, had taken an executive position, managing the terrible situation we had been in for almost a year as best he could. He and his wife, along with their two daughters, Sarah and Diana, awaited us eagerly at the palace's entrance. During my father's rule, he had had a close relationship with Mikel, and I had always admired his determination and commitment, even when he refused to follow my father's demands. It was a miracle my father hadn't killed him.

His wife, Samira, had been a close friend of my mother, and I remembered playing with Sarah, their eldest daughter, during my childhood while our mothers had tea in the gardens, back when we weren't old enough to have obligations.