Love, Blood & Fury

by Melissa J Kincaid

  Candlelight flickered on the warm hued walls. At the hearth, her mother coughed loudly and Arii found herself glancing her way. “Mama, your cough is getting worse.”

  The woman turned and smiled at her daughter, raising a white handkerchief to her lips. “It’s getting cooler now, my little violet. You know my cough gets worse when it grows cold.”

  Arii padded to the bed, nestling amongst the pillows and thick down coverlet. “I know, but it sounds worse today.”

  Her mother had a cough, and Arii knew that back when they lived in the castle, she had approached the healers in hopes of finding relief. Arii was too young to understand that her mother had been suffering for a long time with Dragon Fever, a slow painful disease that attacked the lungs and caused excruciating, burning pain in the chest and throat, akin to what it would be like to breathe fire. Despite healers working with magic and endless concoctions of herbs, Dragon Fever had no known cure.

  Her mother approached with a mug of milk that she had warmed over the fire, sitting on the bed next to her daughter. “Always worrying, my little one. If you worry any more, you’ll have permanent frown lines between your brows.” She wiped a finger tenderly between the girl’s eyes, smoothing the little creases there, causing her to giggle.

  “I love you, Mama,” she whispered, clutching the mug between her fingers and breathing in the hint of cinnamon her mother had stirred in. She had always loved cinnamon.

  “I love you too, my little violet, the woman whispered, tucking her handkerchief, stained with crimson blood under her pillow, away from the little girl’s view.

  “Drink, then sleep,” she said, rising from the bed and moving to clear the kitchen. The girl drank her milk before sliding under the covers. Her eyes drifted closed, and she was soon sinking into a dreamless sleep.

  Arii awoke next to her mother a few hours later, and immediately knew something was wrong. Her mother’s breaths were shallow, her brow glittering with beads of sweat. Her skin, normally a gentle olive hue, was now the pallor of chalk.

  Arii slowly placed a hand on her mother’s cheek, the woman’s own violet eyes red-rimmed and glassy. Arii felt her chest begin to constrict, her tongue too big for her mouth.

  “M-Mama? Are you alright?” she forced out, her voice shaking.

  Her mother coughed, but the sound was weak, a gentle groan escaping her pale lips.

  Arii slid from the bed and ran, throwing open the door and sprinting as quickly as her little legs could carry her to Krepth’s door, unfazed by the wobbly bridge separating their homes that would have normally caused her to pause and cross gingerly, clutching the hand ropes tight. She slammed her hands against the thick wooden door, tears pricking her eyes.

  “Mrs Hallier? Krepth? Please, it is my mother, she’s… she’s unwell!”

  The door opened quickly and a woman with long, jet black hair mussed from sleep stared down at her. “Ariiaya? What…”

  “My mother!” It was all she could muster, a feeling of thick dread beginning to coil in her tiny belly.

  The woman was swift, grabbing a cloak and throwing it across her shoulders before sweeping past the little girl. Arii was quickly following, her numb little body immune to the cool night. Through the slowly boiling panic in her mind, she heard Krepth’s footsteps behind her, his muffled yawn puffing mist into the night sky.

  “Arii?” he said, rubbing his eyes and following after them.

  Mrs Hallier swept into their little home and dropped to her knees beside the bed, her fingers dancing over the rasping woman’s forehead, then pressing to the pulse at her neck. Swiftly, the Shifter woman parted the front of her mother’s tunic and pressed her hand, fingers splayed on her skin. Gentle, glowing light emanated from the Shifter’s fingers as she whipped around and barked at her son. “Krepth, go get Freya, swiftly now!”

  With a look of determination replacing sleepiness, Krepth straightened, and with a quick glance at Arii, spun and dashed into the night.

  Sprinting across the little bridge, Krepth let his magic sweep through him, welcoming the change as his body flashed into that of a midnight wolf pup. Four legs were swifter than two.

  Arii stood, fixed in the doorway of the room.

  This tiny, wooden haven, nothing like the glorious and spacious rooms at the castle, had become a home - a place she shared with her mother and where she finally felt safe. The people, the strange placid people who took the forms of many different animals, had become her family.

  But this place was nothing without her mother in it.

  Her mother was her home.

  Soon a long, delicate fingered hand gently lay on her shoulder as a tall, willowy woman entered. Her hair was as white as freshly fallen snow, her face long and delicately angled. Her eyes, lashed thickly with white, were as black as the night sky, flecked with tiny spots of silver.

  Freya Bloom’s eyes reminded Arii of in the fields surrounding the forest with Krepth, spotting constellations that resembled animals in the dark sky. Freya’s gaze was heavy, as if that very night sky were pressing on her shoulders.

  “Little one, we are going to try to help your mother. I need you to stay with Krepth, just beyond the doorway.” Her voice was like bells on the wind.

  “But-”

  “Come, Arii,” said Krepth from behind her, and she felt a warm hand curl around hers.

  Freya swiftly joined Mrs Hallier and then Arii saw the two women bent over her mother, their voices soft.

  Freya Bloom was the Queen of the East Court and she was powerful. If anyone could help her mother, she could.

  Arii let Krepth pull her out into the cool air, and almost flinched when the boy draped a small cloak around her shaking shoulders. She glanced up at the boy, his green eyes luminous in the flickering golden light of the cabin. His dark brows were pulled in concern. Without thinking, she lifted a hand and rubbed the spot between his brows with her thumb. Krepth’s expression remained unusually serious, but softened ever so slightly. “She’s going to be alright, Arii, you’ll see.”

  Arii had come to love the boy. She did not have siblings, and Krepth was the closest thing she had to a brother. Her lips wobbled as she stared at her friend, biting her bottom lip to ease its trembling. “She’s never been this bad, Krepth, ever.”

  The two children sat, and Krepth placed his arm around her shoulders, resting her head against his neck. He was a few inches taller, and she felt the warmth of his body. It was comforting, yet her mind was in the room with her mother. The pit of her stomach remained coiled, bubbling like a pot of stew, the hairs of her arms rising under the cloak, like she had a terrible chill.

  It felt like an eternity before the door to her home opened, and Mrs Hallier entered the night. Her eyes were glassy, her cheeks flushed.

  “Arii.” She whispered. The girl flinched, having begun to slip into a light snooze on her friend’s shoulder. She stood quickly, little hands balling. Krepth stood slowly beside her, completely and utterly silent.

  “My darling…” she paused before continuing, “You can come in now.”

  Arii swallowed thickly and inched past the woman as she moved to join her son. Everything around her turned to haze as Arii entered the cabin, her eyes going straight to where her mother lay. Freya was perched on the edge of the bed, before standing and turning to face her. The Shifter’s eyes were pitch black – all trace of the silver flecks resembling stars were gone.

  “Arii, come,” she said gently.

  Arii mechanically lifted her feet, one after another as she approached the Queen and stared down at her mother’s still form.

  “My darling, she is very weak. The Dragon’s Fever has damaged her beyond repair, she is…” the woman paused. “She has not long left with us. I am so sorry, sweet child.”

  Arii’s hearing began to fade, her little, delicately pointed e
ars rendered useless in that moment. She slowly made her way to her mother, her vision blurring as her eyes filled with tears. “Mama?”

  The woman’s head moved ever so slightly, her violet eyes finding her daughter. Arii swore her mother’s eyes seemed to drift past her. “Come here, my little violet,” she sighed, her voice barely audible.

  Arii climbed upon the bed, slotting herself against her mother.

  She smelled… strange.

  Her skin which once smelled of roses and sweet sugar, now smelled musky and tainted.

  “I’m sorry, my beautiful, strong little darling.”

  “S-Sorry?” Arii choked.

  “Sorry that I cannot stay. You are so strong, my little violet fire. I know you will continue on when I am gone. Promise me you will live your life and bring change to those around you.”

  Arii gasped through the sobs beginning to form in her throat. “But, I can’t… N-Not without you.”

  Her mother’s laugh was a weak whisper. “You can do anything you set your mind to, my child. Already the children of the East Court respect you. You are strong, so much so that they believe that if you were a shifter, you’d take the form of a proud lioness.”

  Arii pressed her face into the damp skin of her mother’s chest. “Don’t go… I can’t…” she wailed. She knew that when the Gods decided someone’s time was up on the Earth, nothing could change their fate. That little fact had been ingrained into her from a young age.

  “My legacy is you, Ariiaya. I know you will make me proud. Even if my body is not here to see it, my spirit certainly will.” The girl lifted her head and stared at her mother’s hazy eyes. Her mother’s thumb whispered across Arii’s brow, smoothing the lines there, before her hand gently fell to the bed.

  “I love you, my little violet,” she whispered as the light drifted from her eyes.

  Arii stared, her mother’s flawless face a blur before her. Her heart squeezed and her throat became impossibly tight as sobs began to wrack her little body.

  “Mama?” she whispered.

  But her mother’s chest did not rise again.

  “Mama?”

  Pain tore through her. Great, heaving gasps began to shake from her lips, her skull began to throb.

  Her mother’s chest still did not rise.

  “M-Mama?”

  The coil in her stomach turned to stone, and her fingers tingled as she clutched her mother’s tunic. The little girl shook, hoping beyond all hope that her mother’s eyes would open again.

  She sobbed, knowing in her heart that they never would.

  Pain, pain was pressing in on her, the walls of the cabin threatened to swallow her whole. Hot tears cascaded down her cheeks, teeth sinking into her lip as she convulsed. The sound of a million humming bees began to swarm her senses, and her chest rose as her eyes snapped wide. She tasted something sweet, washing over her tongue and shooting down her throat. It was as if her head was being held underwater, and she was forgetting how to breathe.

  Her mother was gone, and there was nothing she could do to get her back.

  A pain unlike anything she had ever experienced ignited in her tiny chest, shattering something within her heart. She screamed as the pain flared out and exploded from her body, the shockwave rattling the pots and pans in the kitchen, shaking the glass windows.

  Her world exploded into blinding sparks.

  Awakening magic rocketed across the forest, causing the trees to shake and sleeping birds to flee their nests with cries of alarm.

  The door flew open, and Freya was scooping the girl into her arms as Arii screamed.

  She screamed for her lost mother, screamed for her lost father, and screamed to the Gods as the foreign feeling of magic erupted within her, sizzling her nerves and blinding her eyes with stars.

  The Queen gripped her tightly as the little Fae girl’s magic awoke that night, rattling the forest and no doubt awakening many just beyond their borders.

  Freya knew that on the ‘morrow, three women would enter the forest to claim little Ariiaya Trillia as their own, whipping her away to the shadowy school upon the western bluff of Fythnar.

  As was the fate of all Fae who had magic awaken within them.

  A fate Freya believed worse than death.

  The grief Arii felt for the loss of her parents, the deep tearing anguish in her soul, was slowly replaced with shards of ice as she built an impenetrable wall of cold steel around her heart. If the many years spent training in the School of Fate had taught Arii anything, it was that emotion clouded judgement, and pain was naught but a feeling that could be pushed to the deepest reaches of the mind.

  Now her solid walls were in threat of being slowly torn down by an unusual warm-hearted King and his wickedly deadly, silver eyed bodyguard.

  How had Fythnar’s most deadly assassin become entangled in a triangle of temptation and desire? Had the Three Fates known what they were sending her into, known that she would question everything she had been trained not to feel?

  ~~~

  Arii’s brows creased as she stalked towards the training area, absolutely ready to hand Elijah’s arse to him on a silver blade in the ring today. Her body was humming with confused frustration and coiled anger. She needed release, but absolutely refused to sate anything outside of the training ring.

  Entering the training hall, she snatched a sword from the array of weapons and turned to face the ring, expecting to see the dark haired, hulking guard standing there.

  Instead, she stared at Sybell Kruel.

  “I dismissed Master Wolfe for a few hours,” said the woman as she tightened the buckles on her boots, before straightening and adjusting the sleeves of her lightweight guard uniform.

  Arii just stared, dumbstruck.

  The golden-haired princess rested her hands on her hips and tapped her booted foot impatiently as she snipped, “Are we to train or not?”

  “Erm, not.”

  Sybell’s chocolate eyes narrowed at her tone.

  Arii paused before adding. “No offence, Princess, but I wouldn’t want to hurt you,” she said as she began to place the sword back on the rack.

  Suddenly a dagger flew over her shoulder, crashing against the rack and causing some of the weapons to fall. The clanging sound that rang out as steel met stone floor was almost deafening.

  Arii slowly turned to face the Princess.

  Sybell was breathing hard, her hand still hanging in mid-air from her sloppy throw of the dagger.

  “I fucking order you to train with me, you little bitch!”

  Oh, if only Arii was but a little bitch.

  Lips pursing, Arii picked up one sword, then another and turned to the ring.

  “Alright then,” she said derisively, pacing forward and tossing one sword to the Princess.

  Unbelievably, the woman caught it by the grip with two hands.

  Arii’s brows climbed on her forehead as Sybell moved into an extremely poor fighting stance.

  “If I may ask, why do you wish to learn, Princess?” Arii flipped the sword in her hand as she spoke. “I would have thought you’d be too afraid of breaking a nail.”

  “I am sick of everyone telling me what I can and cannot do!”

  The Princess’ sword flew through the air, and Arii blocked it easily. Steel glimmered, aiming for her head. Arii blocked again. By the slow and untrained way the woman moved, Arii knew she had only handled a sword a handful of times.

  “Isn’t that part of being a Princess?” Arii said stiffly.

  “Why does it have to be?” retorted Sybell.

  Clang.

  “Well, I guess it’s just to be expected? Your life is not your own.”

  Clang.

  “Exactly, it’s vexatious!”

  Clang.

 
; “Ohh, big words, did you learn that in court?”

  Sybell swiped at Arii’s middle with a grunt of anger and the Fury chuckled as she half-heartedly blocked the woman’s attempt with one hand on her sword.

  “Look, Princess, I admire your tenacity, but you have guards to protect you. You don’t need to learn how to fight.”

  With a frustrated cry, Sybell began an assault, her sword flinging through the air. Arii met her swings with hardly any effort, twisting away from her.

  Gods, where was Elijah? She almost wanted to see his hulking, brooding form right now.

  “Teach me, godsdamnit!” the Princess practically howled.

  Arii paused, surveying the woman panting before her. Her cheeks were flushed and red, blonde hair dishevelled and eyes puffy as if she had been crying not long ago. Her chest rose and fell, and she did not ease from her fighting stance. Well, if the Princess were not such a brat, maybe she would be more inclined to give in to her request.

  “What about Master Wolfe?”

  “Hah, he barely looks my way let alone speaks to me.”

  “Commander Hawke?”

  “Refuses, constantly. Gives me a pained expression like I am asking him to hand over his first-born son.”

  “Maybe if you placed a please in your sentences every now and then, perhaps they would be more inclined?”

  “I - I want to know how to defend myself.”

  “Defend yourself, or make an example of anyone who refuses you?”

  The Princess huffed and waved the sword in front of her but remained silent as she seethed. Her gaze never left the Fury. In a strange way, Sybell reminded her of a couple of the younger assassins she had helped train at the School a few years ago. They had been angry, confused, and eager to spill some blood, having no idea why they had been taken from their families by three mysterious women. The School had been made up of predominantly women, as female Fae who displayed magic were far more common than male Fae with magic.

  The new recruits needed stability and solidarity. Having a weapon and knowing how to use it was a starting point in their search to finding their purpose.