Love, Blood & Fury

by Melissa J Kincaid

  Had something just… moved?

  Placing the grape back on her plate, Sybell moved to slide her hands under the plate when the candles around her suddenly snuffed out.

  “H-Hello?” she said, but all that greeted her was silence.

  Sybell fumbled in the dark, searching for a candle, a match, anything to light the darkness.

  Her hands found a wet, inky texture, like cloth drenched in Winter rain. She yelped, leaping back and hitting the table she had been preparing her food on moments ago.

  The wet cloaked thing was suddenly upon her, and Sybell was screaming. As her mouth opened, she felt a cool gust of breath wash over her face. She smelled the reeking stench of carrion and death, just before she felt the strange sensation of falling. Her chest bowed as her back arched, feeling as if the very fibres of her being were being sucked up a black hole in the air above her. She felt sick to her core, all traces of happiness and light slowly sapped from her being, as if the thing were feeding on all that was good within her soul.

  Her scream died in her throat as blazing red eyes winked open above her, and a half-moon of jagged white teeth appeared in a slow sardonic smile.

  Eyes wide, Sybell attempted to scream again, but no sound broke from her gaping mouth.

  Panic, pure and paralysing gripped her as a distorted laugh sounded from the thing above her.

  Pain washed through her, her skin sizzled as if drenched in acid and the Princess tried to scream again, but her voice was lost to the void.

  She was going to die, right here in the kitchens and she had not said goodbye to anyone, not Mother, not Father, not Lorch.

  And not Ingrid.

  Oh Ingrid.

  Candlelight split the darkness as the kitchen door flew open and the sound of boots broke through her pain filled haze. Her eyes slid to the door, every nerve ending and every muscle locked in a silent battle, and Sybell saw the broad-shouldered silhouette of a man, his hair laced with silver as he drew a sword and shouted her name.

  Whatever the thing was, it lost its grip and screeched, fleeing into the shadows.

  Sybell slumped on the table as if she had just been dropped, her prone form boneless.

  Commander Hawke flew into the kitchen, his sword clattering to the floor as he rushed to the Princess, curling an arm around her torso, his other hand pulling her face to his as he inspected her deathly pale skin.

  “Sybell!” he barked, his voice hinting hysteria as his head dipped to her chest in search of a heartbeat. When a weak thrum beat beneath his ear, a sound like a pained gasp left Hawke’s lips and he held her to him as a guard ran into the kitchens.

  Hawke lifted Sybell into his arms and cradled her like a child. The Princess’ pale form was limp as the he hitched her head to rest against his chest, his dark eyes darting to the soldier as he said, “Notify the healers that the Princess has been attacked by a Reaper.”

  ~~~

  “A Reaper?” Lorch breathed in confusion as he sat by Sybell’s bedside. Mild morning light filtered through the windows of the Princess’ rooms, highlighting the russet in the King’s perfectly swept hairstyle. “What, by the Gods, is a Reaper?”

  “Something I thought no longer existed,” said Hawke, his gaze hardly leaving the Princess’ sleeping form as her chest rose and fell lightly.

  He had been scared, more scared than he had felt in a very long time. Seeing Sybell’s pale, boneless form arched on the kitchen table, the terrifying shadowy thing perched with its jaws hovering over her body, inky black arms curling like a spider around her, sucking the very essence from her being - Hawke swore he had never felt so afraid in his fifty-two years.

  He had almost lost her.

  “What was it doing in the castle?” asked Elijah from the far right of the room, his cloaked form hovering by the window.

  “Or a better question, why does it exist?”

  Hawke speared a hand through his hair in frustration. From her place by the door, Arii could see the Commander looked beyond exhausted. The Princess’ discovery seemed to affect him worse that she thought, as if the girl was perhaps more important to him than Arii realised.

  Lynnera sat on the opposite side of the bed to Lorch, her hand clutching Sybell’s as her thumb dew circles on the back of the girl’s pale hand. The King’s mother looked like she would be sick.

  Hawke spoke after a short silence. “A Reaper is said to be drawn to powerful magic. It is incredibly strange that one was in the land at all.” He paused. “Magic strong enough to draw such a creature is rare these days - nothing or no one with such power should exist.” Hawke ran a hand down his beard in agitation as he paced the room like a caged animal.

  “It’s lucky you got there when you did, Commander. Thank you for saving my sister,” said Lorch, his tone heavy with gratitude.

  The King stood, before looking at Elijah and then Arii. “Someone else must have seen or heard this creature around the castle grounds. Commander, would a Reaper cause the damage seen on the servant found in the gardens a few days ago?”

  Hawke paused; his brows pulled together. “No, taking out the heart is not characteristic of a Reaper. They feed on life essence, and strong emotion. Normally they would target a being with powerful magic but perhaps Sybell was in the wrong place at the wrong time…” He paused. “The creature may have been lurking the castle in search of someone else.”

  Arii’s mind was coasting over each person she had met in the castle. So far, she was stumped at who could have drawn the Reaper, no one she could think of had displayed any sign of immense magic. Something tickled at the back of her mind then, as if a thought were wading from the far reaches of her mind before it was interrupted by Lorch’s voice.

  “Commander, I want you to ensure all of your soldiers keep a keen look out for anything suspicious, and if they see anything, even a hint of something strange - I don’t care how minor, you make sure they report it immediately,” he ordered.

  The Commander’s face was drawn and tired, but the order seemed to give him a new sense of direction as he bowed low then took a last lingering glance at Lynnera and Sybell before sweeping from the room.

  Lorch turned to his mother, his tone soft. “Mother, watch over Sybell while she rests. She will need to see a familiar face when she wakes. I’m going to find this creature, and I’m going to make sure it cannot harm anyone else in our home.”

  Arii was surprised to hear a tone of steel in the King’s voice that she had not heard before. The time she had spent in Lorch’s presence never hinted that the young man had an ounce of steel in his body, but now she could hear a dangerous, determined edge to his speech that had her brows rising. Sure, Sybell was a bitch, but Arii supposed no one deserved their essence sucked out like a honey to a bee.

  “Elijah, Miss Clearwater, if you’ll come with me, I want to relay what has happened to my sister at the council. Maybe one of the old coots knows more about this Reaper.” Lorch nodded to the two guards before sweeping for the door.

  Elijah paused by Lynnera’s side and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, before following the King, sweeping past Arii and exiting the room.

  Arii took a few extra moments, her eyes fixed on Sybell’s sleeping form. She looked so small, so fragile. When she spoke, her voice was gently laced with cold calm.

  “We will find the creature, Mrs Kruel, and believe me when I say we will make sure it pays.”

  Lynnera gazed up at the woman, reading the quiet determination on her face as she replied, “I have no doubt you will, Miss Clearwater.”

  ~~~

  Masculine hands slid around the woman’s small waist as he pulled her body against him roughly, breathing raggedly as two bodies twined in the privacy of an unused room. The woman’s breath hitched as the man’s teeth dragged across the sensitive skin of her neck, dark hair rolling from her shoul
der as she tipped her head to the side. The man with copper hair tangled his hands in her hair, their lips clashing in heated passion.

  “Had I known I would receive this welcome; I would have visited sooner…” purred Klotho as a sigh graced her blood red lips, her hands gliding up the man’s chest and into his shirt. “It’s too bad we could not speak like this when you visited the School.”

  Valdis’ lips paused their ascension of the Fate’s neck as he spoke against her skin, his voice deep and husky with lust. “Did you bring what I asked?”

  “Oh yes, just a small few to avoid any suspicion. Won’t you tell me what you need the crystals for? We are on the same side, you and I…”

  Valdis’ hand took hold of her hair and yanked roughly, her head pulled back to allow him better access to the skin of her neck as he growled. “When you answer my question, I shall answer yours.”

  “Ah, about your son and the Tapestry of Life,” she answered.

  “Indeed. Tell me why you sent a Fury to kill my son.”

  “You know the visions granted by the Gods are mere glimpses of images - my sisters and I put the pieces together and determine who the target could be.”

  She paused as Valdis’ head dipped lower to the front of her parted blouse. His free hand pulled open the material, exposing her breasts to him. Hungrily, he took one nipple in his mouth and sucked, causing a moan to erupt from the Fate’s lips.

  “All of the images alluded to your son,” she gasped, panting.

  “But there was something within the images that I did not disclose to my sisters,” she continued.

  This caused Valdis to pause in his task, stormy blue eyes lifting to meet hers. She ran her hand down the side of his face, tracing the scar that marred him, her eyes hooded as a smile played on her lips.

  “The Gods showed me an image of magic. Pure, spiralling, untamed magic. Unless your son is a Fae, which I doubt, I believe the Gods may know of the existence of a male Fae magician, the first in over two hundred years.”

  Valdis’ eyes glittered in the dim light of the room as he surveyed the woman. “You do not lie.”

  “I never lie,” said Klotho dryly. “I merely… withhold little bits of information.”

  “And you did not tell this to your sisters?”

  “No, I promised this sort of information to you, my love. I always keep my word.”

  Valdis’ lips met hers again, swallowing her breathy sigh as he pressed her body against his, their movements barely containing their lust. They paused only briefly in their exploration of one another to speak.

  “A tell for a tell, Valdis. Why the Nexus Crystals to Bonemire?”

  Valdis had opened his mouth to speak when the door to the room opened, causing his head to snap up as a servant entered the room carrying freshly washed sheets.

  Klotho spun around, black hair whirling about her like a curtain as the maid made a sound of alarm, dropping the sheets to the floor and staring with wide eyes.

  “Oh Gods, my apologies!” stammered Ingrid, her bright burgundy hair haloed in the doorway by the hall lamps. Before she could turn and flee, Klotho lifted a hand and balled it to a fist as the air crackled with magic, causing the girl to halt mid turn as if frozen in ice.

  Klotho sighed and righted her blouse as Valdis passed her, heading for the maid. “Well, this won’t do, we cannot have word of our little-” she waved her hand in the air, “-displays of affection fluttering across the entire castle.”

  Valdis surveyed the maid, her eyes wide and frightened as they stared back at him. His harsh, ragged face was drawn in a frown, eyes narrowed. “She is my daughter’s handmaid.”

  “So, get your daughter a new maid.”

  Valdis sighed and turned to the Fate. “Fine, I will take her to the dungeons myself and decide what to do with her later. The council is waiting, Klotho, as is your Emissary.”

  Klotho sauntered past Valdis, giving him a smoky stare. “We will continue this later, then,” she purred, passing into the hall.

  Valdis watched her leave, before turning and hauling Ingrid in the direction of the dungeons.

  ~~~

  “You focus too much on offense, Miss Clearwater.”

  Arii’s brows narrowed as she stared at Elijah, the hood of his cloak pushed back as they sparred in the training arena. His silver eyes watched every tiny move she made like an eagle watching prey, his lips drawn in his usual disapproving frown.

  The Elijah from the pool? That hint of a smile in the library? That Elijah was long gone.

  Gods if he just smiled – a full lipped smile, not just the hint of teeth or the tilt of his lips that she had seen before, she imagined his handsome face would light the room like a fire in the darkness. She would not admit it, but she longed to see more of the smile she had glimpsed in by the pool, and in the library the night she had revealed his face and they had almost kissed.

  Pausing, Elijah ran a hand over his dark stubbled chin.

  “You press your offense with anger and ferocity. If you held back and allowed your opponent the thought of an advantage, you would end him much quicker, and use much less energy.”

  “Who made you the King of combat?” she snarked, easing her stance as they drew near to ending their training for the morning.

  Elijah sighed loudly, and Arii found herself beginning to grin. Only she seemed to get a rise out of the stoic soldier, and it amused her. Elijah, on the other hand, looked like he wanted to wrap his strong calloused hands around her neck and strangle her.

  “Years more experience on the battlefield, Miss Clearwater,” he ground out.

  Arii chuckled, slamming her boot on the edge of a nearby fallen sword, causing it to flip before her hand shot out and snatched it from the air.

  Just like every other day, their training had gone well, their skills so smooth and similar that they practically danced in the ring. Commander Hawke was silent most of the time, only adding his opinion in some cases where he believed there could be improvement. Elijah kept his hood down most days, but today it was about his shoulders, his black hair falling around his face in unruly waves, some strands sticking to his forehead and neck with perspiration. There was something about the man standing with little beads of sweat tracking down his neck that caused something to rise to the surface within her, an annoying little beast of lust that was rearing its head far too often lately.

  Really, Arii was mesmerised by Elijah’s battle prowess, bringing to the front of her mind the question she was beginning to obsess over knowing the answer to.

  Who was he?

  On the sidelines, Commander Hawke fixed Quinn’s grip on the hilt of a dagger. Tikkani and Emerson were nearby, clashing training swords in a practice duel. The twins danced and slashed with surprising speed. Tikkani ducked Emerson’s attack, neither recruit landing any blows as they moved, seemingly reading each other’s moves a split second before making them.

  If Arii had not known about the twin’s telepathic abilities, she would have watched the duel with confused wonder. Pitted against enemies, their gifts could be a colossal advantage. Against each other through? Not so suitable.

  The look Tikkani shot her way multiple times during the training caused Arii to growl, her friend’s eyebrows raised and waggling as the elf nodded in Elijah’s direction.

  Gods.

  She supposed the recruits were not familiar with Elijah’s face, and now that it had been revealed, Arii was sure to get a fair amount of shit from Tikkani about how dark and handsome the man was.

  Like she did not know that already. Elijah was a mystery wrapped up in the form of a tall, rugged, battle hardened god of war.

  And she was determined to figure him out.

  “Lady Kruel, what a surprise to see you here.”

  Arii turned to the sound of Commander’s Hawke�
��s surprised voice, expecting to see Sybell up and about. She assumed the Princess would still be resting and recovering, but when the King’s mother entered the training room with her face drawn, Arii paused with her sword hovering in mid-air.

  “Commander, I was hoping to speak with you a moment?” Her voice was laced with concern. Arii shot a quick glance at Elijah, seeing his attention was on the woman also.

  Hawke instructed Quinn to join the other recruits before turning to Lynnera. When she spoke, her voice was low and had it not been for her keen Fae hearing, Arii would not have noted the carefully veiled panic in the woman’s voice.

  “Have you seen Ingrid? The slight girl with red hair, Sybell’s handmaiden?”

  Hawke’s hands twitched as if he were holding back from taking her hands in his own, seeing her fingers shaking.

  “No, is everything alright?” he said gently.

  “Sybell is asking for her maid, but I cannot locate her anywhere. The castle staff have not seen her since last night. It is awfully strange for her not to be close by, especially since Sybell’s ordeal,” Lynnera paused, wetting her lips before continuing. “Sybell is becoming… increasingly upset.”

  “She is awake?”

  “Yes - but she is still very tired…”

  Arii’s eyes slid from their exchange to Elijah once more and was surprised to see his heavy gaze fixed directly on her, glittering with suspicion.

  Did he suspect she could hear their conversation from where they stood, where a normal human or elf would be out of earshot?

  Arii arranged her stance and lifted her free hand in a beckoning gesture, a sly grin splitting her lips.

  “Shall we continue?”

  ~~~

  Moonlight showered the golden castle causing the shimmering metal facade to appear almost silver in the night. Two figures clung to the overheads outside the Princess’ rooms, their forms shrouded in shadows as they watched the moonlit silhouette of the girl as she slept. Arii’s violet eyes reflected momentarily in the moonlight as she shot her gaze quickly to the silver haired Fury beside her. They had been lying in wait now for hours, and so far there had been no signs of the Reaper.