Seed of Scorn

by Aaron-Michael Hall

  “But—”

  She shook her head. “Trials will come, but you must remain vigilant. Sarai’s son will be integral to Faélondul as a whole. Ayrmeis is as no other, Zaxson, and he’ll need your guidance and Symeon’s strength.

  “Ayrmeis? But how?”

  “Look to the priests. The Drah’kuus have knowledge that will aid both you and your sons.”

  “But the Doh’Mahn Vwazi Tr’Eon, the Nazilians?”

  “I cannot remove the images from your mind, but with the aid of the nectar, their impact on you will lessen in time. The scrolls must be written and delivered to all of Faélondul’s temples. The truth of the Nazilian heritage will be known.”

  “Not everyone will accept such truths, AsZar.”

  “No, but the onus is on you to present them with it.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Malediction

  Nikolina’s skin paled with terror covering her visage. “Father,” she whimpered in desperation, struggling to stand. As Lilinth closed the door behind them, the fire in the hearth swelled, whipping spikes of orange and yellow tendrils lashing toward her.

  Shrieking, Nikolina fell back, raising up her hands to shield her face. She cried out to the Four…praying…begging…as the fire’s heat intensified and the wicked, flaring tendrils encircled her throat.

  Her eyes bulged, pawing desperately until her hands were snatched away, forcibly wrenched down at her sides. Her prayers ended in a gasp, as an acute, otherworldly caterwaul resonated off the cottage walls. Swirls of pallid fog billowed throughout the room, entwining with the fire, creating an obscuring haze that hovered ominously around her. It looked as if all seven hells had erupted from a fissure, trawling her down into the abyss of the Shadokyn.

  Nikolina thrashed wildly, attempting to fend off her unseen assailants: taunting her…grasping her…and tethering her in place.

  “No!” she protested, writhing in the chair.

  Her face was bereft of color as the misshapen shadowy figures emerged from nothingness, assuming corporeal form. She couldn’t breathe or move, she could only stare at the infernal nether-creatures, slinking ever closer.

  A puling cry escaped her lips, seeing the glimmering, wan eyes of the creatures appear from the miasma encasing them. Their ragged, slavering maws curved up in wicked grins as they continued to lash out, leaving singeing welts across her flesh. Their skin glowed with an unearthly pallor, exposing the webs of bluish tendons beneath it.

  With whitening knuckles, she grasped the arms of the chair, fighting to break free. The nearer they stalked, the more fervent her prayers became. The grotesque creatures glided their scabrous fingers up her legs to her womb.

  “No!” she shouted. “Please, gods, get them away from me. Please!

  The creatures stood no taller than small children, hunching over with their crooked backs and legs. Nikolina shook her head in terrified disbelief, watching the strange cadence of their steps. No, not steps. It was more a stuttered glide. The imps moved as if they were struggling to advance, though nothing tangible hindered their path.

  Tears streamed down her cheeks, feeling both the heat and pain of their acidic touch. They rasped in a horrid whisper, if in fact they were speaking at all. To the tortured woman, it sounded more like a series of meaningless syllables and shrill clicks, tormenting her mind while syphoning any lingering resolve left within her.

  Nikolina’s prayers began anew, feeling them scratching at her exposed skin, leaving singeing welts in their wake. Her scream was silenced by one of the creature’s mouths covering hers. The bile raised in her throat, the creature’s bulbous pustules bursting, oozing a noisome slime into her mouth. She tried to turn, only to be held in place by the clawing grasp of the many.

  Those same scabrous hands covered her body, moving everywhere all at once. Nikolina released a stuttered breath, her limbs becoming flaccid and weak. In that moment, she felt darkness creeping in, and prayed that death would soon follow.

  That prayer fell empty as the creatures screeched, dragging her down to the floor. She urged her legs to kick, but they were fettered in place, and forced widely apart.

  Radiating pain cascaded through her entire body with the creature’s feral shrieks and panting adding to her torment, as they took turns violating her.

  Nikolina ceased her struggle, unable to endure another intrusion. Then, just as quickly as they’d appeared, the wretched creatures dissipated in a cloud of acrid dust.

  She screamed, an agonized scream, curling on the floor through the stabbing surges of pain. Rolling to the side, she gripped the chair, desperately clutching its arm as she strained, pulling herself upright.

  Nikolina staggered, collapsing in the chair as she wept. Foul-smelling fluids seeped from her body, causing her to lurch sideward, retching on the floor.

  She wept irrepressibly as the concealed door creaked open and Allister entered the room, battered and disheveled. His normally neat hair was wild, as if he’d been caught in a windstorm. Nikolina’s heart ached, reaching out to him.

  “Father,” she whimpered.

  He struggled to find his footing, his clothes ripped and bloodied. “Nik—Nikolina,” he rasped, with pain contorting his features as he stumbled to her side, wrapping his quivering arms around her.

  “What have I done, Father?” she said through hiccupping cries. “We must leave here. We must leave this cursed place.”

  “Leave?” Lilinth’s euphonious voice sounded from across the room. “There’s much for you to learn, young Nikolina. Isn’t this why you’ve come?” the once-beautiful woman asked, gliding toward them. Allister shrank away, shuddering as she stroked his face.

  “You’ve pleased me well, Allister d’Garrion. With your seed, a generation will grow.” She smiled, fiendishly. “And your daughter has pleased my children. After such pleasures, I’ll acquiesce to your desire.”

  “I desire nothing,” Nikolina said, unconvincingly between sobs. “We only want to leave. Please.”

  “I’ll allow you this,” Lilinth said, producing a small phial. “Does this look familiar? Isn’t it reminiscent of the phial you used to poison the Nakshij?”

  Allister’s eyes narrowed, staggering between the two. Before he could speak, Lilinth’s eyes flashed as her arm came up, batting him aside, and hurtling him across the room.

  “Once you’ve come to the Sycophant of Sanctium, our deal is struck,” Lilinth sneered, gripping Nikolina’s hair, and forcing her head back. She jabbed a knee into her abdomen, pouring the contents of the phial into her mouth. Nikolina swallowed hard, clawing at Lilinth’s hands covering her nose and mouth. After she’d stepped away, Nikolina pitched forward, gagging and coughing from the sting of the putrid liquid forced down her throat.

  Lilinth laughed. “Delicious,” she hissed, gliding to her seat.

  “What have you done to her?” Allister demanded, recovering from the wicked blow.

  “I’ve given her what she sought,” Lilinth said with her uncharacteristically beautiful smile, hearing Nikolina’s agonized screams.

  “Do not struggle against the essence, and your pain will be less. You’re weak, Nikolina d’Garrion, and your body must be strengthened to receive Mah’saahc’s blessings.”

  “Mah—Mah’saahc?” Allister breathed, cradling his daughter in his arms.

  “Mah’saahc is who you seek. Through her, you’ll receive the desire of your heart.”

  “I only want to be free of this place,” Nikolina strained to speak.

  “And so you shall, my lovely Nikolina,” she purred, standing and resting a sharp nail beneath her chin, forcing her head up. “The babe that you cursed has been snatched from the womb of your enemy.”

  “We’d never curse a child!” Allister said.

  “It was your daughter’s wish, was it not? Didn’t you curse Danimore’s wife and pray her child be flushed from her womb?”

  Nikolina’s tears increased, burying her face in Allister’s shoulder.

  “Keep
your wickedness to yourself. My daughter would never pray for such a thing. You’re an evil and vile wretch. To the shadows of—”

  His words ended in a grunt as Lilinth snarled, flicking her wrist, and sending him careening against the wall.

  “Mah’saahc has granted your heart’s desire. The human whore’s babe was wrenched from her womb, and rendered it void.

  “Danimore’s only true heir grows within you.” Lilinth turned, peering at Allister struggling to stand. “It was after your visit to the citadel did the babe meet its end,” she taunted. “Learning about Nikolina’s pregnancy caused young Zeta to become careless. A wicked tumble down the stairs loosened the babe from her womb. Isn’t that pleasing to you?”

  “Gods, no! You lie! All of this is nothing but manipulations and lies.”

  In an instant, Lilinth towered over him. She clutched him around his throat, lifting him easily from the floor.

  “The pact you’ve made will be fulfilled. Mah’saahc has been summoned, and you’ll release her from her imprisonment.”

  Lilinth tossed Allister aside, swiping her claws across Nikolina’s exposed arm. As she yelled out, Lilinth filled a phial with the precious life essence seeping from the wound.

  “The pact is made, and now you’ll retrieve the key.”

  “The—the key?” he wheezed, grasping his chest.

  “You have two tasks to complete, my obedient paramour. You’ll find the key in the Dessalonian Mountains. Retrieve it for me, or I’ll rip the babe from your daughter’s womb and force you to watch as my children consume it.”

  Nikolina cried out, submersed in both grief and heartache. She looked at her father, used and battered, and then thought about Danimore’s child. She hated Zeta, but would never harm a child. The violation, Danimore could’ve forgiven in time, but this…this would never be forgiven. What have I done? she lamented, meeting the wicked creature’s eyes.

  “Worry not for what you’ve done,” Lilinth said as if reading her mind. “Turn your thoughts to what you must do. There’s one who holds the second item that you must retrieve. The possessor of the blood of Oisin.” She handed Nikolina a small, curved blade, barely the size of an eagle’s talon, and an opal cylinder.

  “These will aid in completing your second task. First, you’ll retrieve the key and return it to me. And you, my dear Allister,” she said with a lascivious glance. “You’ll serve me again. Do not fail Mah’saahc, or your suffering will be beyond any pain your former leaders ever thought to inflict.” She smiled, regarding Nikolina. “My children want more of you. If you don’t deliver what you’ve promised, I’ll allow them their pleasures for eternity.”

  With a dismissive wave, the cottage disappeared, leaving Nikolina laying in the dirt blood sodden and trembling. When she gathered her senses, she gasped, seeing Allister unmoving, bedraggled and bloodied on the ground. She struggled, dragging herself to his side and throwing her arms over him.

  “Please, Father. Forgive me. Please,” Nikolina sobbed, drowning in her emotion.

  The sun had nearly set before Allister began to stir. He groaned, trembling on the cold ground as Nikolina clutched him tighter, never wanting to release him. His eyes slowly opened, turning woozily to face her.

  “Nikolina? By the gods, Nikolina. By the gods,” he repeated.

  “Please, Father. Please take us home. We must leave before she returns.”

  Allister frantically scanned the desolate patch, laboring to his feet. He fought against the agony still assailing him as he reached for his daughter, nearly toppling from the piercing throb between his legs. He brought his knees together, doing his best to remain upright. As the pain eased, he helped Nikolina to her feet, wrapping an arm around her waist. Using each other for support, they lumbered through the thicket until reaching their boat.

  “The babe?” he asked when they neared the water’s edge.

  Nikolina shook her head. “He moves, but I don’t know. I don’t know what I’ve done to him…to all of us. Forgive me, Father, I’ve condemned us all.”

  He helped her into the small craft, climbing in and pushing off from the shore. Never taking his eyes off the isle, he fought to pull the oars with weakened strength.

  “Soon we’ll be home and this torment will be behind us. It can’t be true, this can’t be the mage the Cha relied on. That was no servant of the Four. I shouldn’t have ever allowed this. Never. Once we’re safe, we’ll never speak of this again. I’ll keep you safe, Nikolina, and burn those damn books. All of them! Never speak of it again,” he strained to say, continuing to guide the boat.

  “We can’t, Father. Lilinth won’t allow it.”

  “Don’t speak the name of that witch! After what she did to you…what she did to me.” A tumult of images flashed through his mind, causing his pace to slow. Lilinth possessed a power over him, a power so wicked that even as her claws dug into him, he begged for more. His hands shook, recalling that pleasure infused with so much pain.

  “Father?”

  He nearly leapt from the boat when Nikolina called out to him.

  “Are you all right? You’re shaking. Please say that you’re all right.”

  He shook his head, regaining his purpose. He began rowing feverishly, determined to get his daughter to safety. “Both of us will be, in time. We shouldn’t have ever come here and we shan’t return.”

  “But the mage will come for us.”

  “Let her come! She won’t birth any demons from my seed. She’s taken enough from us.”

  Nikolina cradled her womb, wincing. She couldn’t tell her father the extent of her violations. She wiped her lips, recalling the demons’ tongues in her mouth, and the pustules bursting against her lips. She heaved, forcing the roiling bile back down her throat.

  Loud screeches echoed above them, wrenching her from the painful memories. When she looked up, a Desu Beast was descending upon the citadel’s roof.

  “Could what Pentanimir said about the Guardians be true?” she asked.

  “I don’t know anything about the Guardians or Protectors. What I do know is: the Cha’s mage isn’t a servant of the gods. If she’s representative of the Four, they’re no longer gods to me. There’s an evil on that isle…an evil that the Cha allowed and even nurtured. I must learn the truth before it consumes us both.”

  Authenticity of Self

  Beilzen hurried to the circled bushes with the wine he’d brought for their meal. As he approached, he took a steadying breath, nervously fidgeting with his collar and hair.

  “Isn’t Fáelán joining us?” Dalia asked, smoothing out the blanket on the ground. She enjoyed the midday meals they’d been sharing. After spending so much time together, they’d all grown closer. Fáelán especially brought a joy to her, but to Dalia’s surprise, Beilzen had become special, too. In the beginning, she was merely curious, but somehow, that had changed.

  “He’s with his uncle Wosen, taking noon meal in the hall. I wanted some time alone with you…I mean...if that’s all right?”

  She smiled, removing items from the basket. “It is.”

  His smile took in his entire face as he knelt beside her. “I brought this,” he said, holding out the wine. “It’s a sweeter blend that I acquired several years ago. I wanted something special that would complement our meal.” He paused, meeting her eyes. “And the occasion.”

  A tingle trickled over her skin. His demeanor was different, and some sparkle had returned to his eyes. Those eyes held so much mystery, yet pain as well. Dalia found them beautiful, wanting to learn more about him. What caused such intensity when he regarded her and the tears he shed so often? She was drawn to this strange man and didn’t understand why. Everything she’d been told about him was contrary to what he showed to her. Now, this.

  “To new friends and blossoming relationships,” Beilzen toasted, pulling her from her thoughts.

  She repeated the same, lifting the cup to her lips. “It—it’s delicious.”

  As they began their meal, Beilzen
continued his stare. He admired her lovely, full face, noticing her flawless ebon skin glistening in the sunlight. Dalia’s almond-shaped eyes were large, with long black lashes outlining them perfectly. They were stunning.

  Unlike most women that he’d met, Dalia stood shorter than he did. Her build was soft and round, with attractive womanly curves. The one time that she’d offered him a hug, he’d never wanted it to end.

  Beilzen moistened his lips, his eyes resting on the fullness of hers. At that moment, he yearned to feel them against his, and savor that warmth, that sweetness. But Beilzen had nothing to offer her, even if she would have him. His brow creased with that thought. He regarded Dalia again, considering the possibility.

  Would she have me? he thought as their eyes met. He couldn’t give her any children or physical pleasure, but his mind wouldn’t move from that question, that need, that desire. He had to know.

  “Are you all right, Beilzen?”

  He managed a smile, reaching for her hand. “I’m better than I’ve been in years, Dalia. You’ve helped me become more myself again, and I cherish the time we spend together. Fáelán has grown quite fond of you, too.”

  Dalia turned slightly away, feeling flutters in her stomach. “I feel much the same, and truly enjoy Fáelán. He’s a sweet boy, and you’re a wonderful father and friend.”

  Beilzen slid closer, not releasing her hand. He didn’t know how to proceed. He wanted to tell her about his attraction—to let her know how he was beginning to care for her. But how could he? How could he begin something his obvious limitations wouldn’t allow him to finish? If he admitted his feelings, he’d need to tell her about his inadequacies, of what Daracus had brutally taken from him. Albeit, as he looked into her eyes, he felt that she might also be questioning what lie in her heart.