by K R Leikvoll
I wanted to go back to Duskwraith. Every time that I left, I wished to be free of my Master, just as every time I was homebound, I desired to be back more than anything. It was confusing to me, and it was something I was very much aware of as the regime prepared our endless convoy.
Did I miss Vincent? It was a curse loving him. I was constantly being tempted with something I could never have. If I grew too close to him, it would make it impossible to kill him. And hating him? That was out of the question... entirely inconceivable, but of course, I despise him – do not misunderstand.
I existed because he existed.
As he was chaos through order, I was order through chaos.
I was the everlasting night, and he was the perpetual day.
We could never meet in the middle. We could neither truly love each other nor hate. It was both and it was none. Everything about our intertwined fate was tragic to me.
“Warden,” a voice said over my shoulder, distracting me from my flooding thoughts.
It was Typhlon. He was as drained as I was. War was not a time of rest and indulgence, as I thought before I left. The screams of my enemies were nonexistent, which meant we had finished our commands. I would leave that Empire as the prophet of end-times to come.
“What is it?”
“We are prepared to leave. Will you be joining us?”
“Yes,” I mumbled and turned back toward the Black Sea. He caught that I wanted to be alone and bid me good travels, as he was going to be too busy maintaining the regime to spend much time conversing with me on the trip home.
Before I departed, I removed the ba’yan Ortos carving from my belt. I ran my fingers over its eyes, remembering the massive avatar it represented. The child who carved it had no future – I took that from her.
I left it in my place… as a gravestone for all of the fallen.
WAR
Grand celebration was more than underway by the time the Duskwraith forces and I reached the border in Eidune. It was rather surreal. Their faces were all so pleased we had defeated our great enemy. I assume a lot thought that meant we would have more food, or a better economy, given all the treasure. It was hard to look at them knowing the truth.
Rain fell from the maroon skies like drops of ink, but it was muggy and warm with summer. I was so close to being reunited with my beloved; it was hard for me to believe I had been gone a long, insufferable two and a half years away from my home. It is difficult to say if I truly missed Vincent or not. The tugging of our bond that grew agonizingly strong the closer I got to the palace dictated that I very much longed to be in his embrace. Outside of the bond, I am unsure. Either way, it did not matter, as it was overwhelming to the degree I could not resist.
We were showered with flowers, liquor, and adoration by the citizens that watched our convoy file into the country. They followed on our tail, singing old Kaedan songs and bringing meals to the soldiers. At first, I was too numb to feel anything other than disturbed by their happiness. The very head of Aresius was in its sack next to my leg. I had ultimate victory, so why did I feel bored by the response of my own subjects?
The palace grounds were littered with people. Even the gates of the Everglade had been opened for the residents to enjoy the festivities. The arena was packed with people fighting, for show and entertainment for those from other cities. The smell of food was thick in the air. It was pleasing for all of the mortals in my presence, as most of the poorer were starving to some degree. Raven and Varnoc, however, were in much of the same mood I was.
We were exhausted. Even a party was not enough to excite me, and I had never attended one before.
When I finally stepped foot through the palace’s threshold, I wanted to fall to my knees and nap on the stone. Only the idea of wine and a bath forced me in the direction of the throne room. Holly stopped all three of us before we entered to warn us of how crowded and rambunctious it was in there. Perhaps she could see the tiredness in our eyes. We all collectively looked at each other with apathy. They sought to relax as much as I did, but we had to make an appearance. Varnoc pushed open the door for me, as they both wished for me to go first.
It was an absolute disaster inside. Blood coated the floor in a thick layer. I was forced to step over bodies discarded near the room’s threshold. Everyone inside was intoxicated on far more than just wine. Vince had clearly placed some sort of spell on the room to help create the ambiance he desired. All of the chatter, sex, and indulgent behavior ceased as I clinked further into the mass of barely-dressed nobles.
My eyes scanned each one of them before they settled on Vince near his throne. He had not heard us enter; he was far too consumed by… well, consuming a noble woman. What of her clothing that still intact was the tailoring work of the southern city Runera. Her entire family was likely in my Master’s court. It took the sudden silence for him to finally realize we had arrived.
“Is that my beloved Queen?” Vincent asked, wiping his mouth and shoving the woman off of him. His hair was messy and untamed. Blood of all different shades and sources drenched his robes. His apparent happiness did not cover that he hadn’t slept since we left.
My Master pushed a few partygoers out of his way and approached me, clearly intoxicated, holding out his hand. I caught Raven scowling in the corner of my eye when I kneeled at his feet and kissed the rings on his fingers. I would be lying if I said I did not feel love for Vince at that time. Despite our differences and our destiny, the bond still sated me in a way nothing else could.
Vince pulled me into his embrace and rested his lips on mine. Some of the nobles were pleased by seeing our connection, as who did not want their ruling monarchs to be in love? His favor was everyone else’s favor at that moment, so I played my role of Queen well.
“I have stayed true to my word,” I uttered to him, moving away. I reached behind Varnoc and commanded the undead children to come. Vince was confused, leaning forward to study them with cautious eyes. “This is Prince Kubbo and Princess Elthra of Aresius’ line. May they serve you well as loyal servants. I know Ophelia’s absence has been so difficult for you.” I scanned the half-fucked women surrounding him with an aggressive stare that made many of them back away.
Next, I pulled the silk sack from over my shoulder and held it out to him. He knew very well what it contained. He took it gently from my hands and peered in before letting out a cackle. With a fistful of his hair, Vince ripped Aresius’ rotting head from the bag and held it high for all to see. Everyone in the room let out screams of victory. It endured until I handed my Master the heavy silver crown, Morein’s headdress, and Gradelkine’s hair charms.
“You have stayed true to your word,” Vince cooed in a pleased tone. When his arms wrapped around me, I stopped feeling interested in his behavior. I only wished for rest at that second, not to make love in front of the court of Duskwraith.
“Zaar is no more, Master. Was there anything you needed? I fear I must excuse myself,” Raven interjected, shifting his weight between his legs impatiently. Vince let me go and forced him into an embrace as if he had not realized he was there.
“There is much I need. You can rest when the party is over. I did not summon the whole country here for you to sleep through it. Now, why don’t you both get washed up so you can enjoy.”
My Master missed the look Raven and I shared at the idea of returning to the throne room. Normally, I think Raven would have been quick to partake in party favors, but not after all we had endured. At least he was far more versed in Vince’s whims and attitude. The frustration he caused him was easy to hide, unlike me. I stormed out of the messy hall, viciously wanting to barricade myself in my room until it was all over.
I sent Yuelle to fill my bath while I gave Vince his gifts; it was relieving to have it steaming and awaiting me when I entered my room. A weaker version of myself might have wept at how pleased I was to be home. Alas, I could never dare to release that much emotion.
I had her wash my hair while I closed my eye
s and listened to her talk. She was in awe of the palace. It was apparent she had not seen much of royal structures beyond the Emperor’s castle in Uxe. She looked ravishing in the dark robes I had given her to wear. I am sure she felt the same way I did when I first was bestowed with such a beautiful place to live.
“Do you wish for me to lie with you before you return to the party?” she asked as she rinsed the final bit of soap and grime from my arm.
“I wouldn’t mind,” Varnoc’s voice answered instead. He was seated on the bed with his head in his hands. If I knew him as I thought I did, he would enjoy his private release and fall into a long rest. That idea was still something Yuelle seemed opposed to. She was rather racist toward Zaarians after all she had been through.
“Do you think him to be like his kin? I thought he had spilled enough of his own blood to prove his allegiance to the same cause as me,” I said, holding Yuelle by the chin. Her golden eyes softened.
“No, I don’t. Forgive me.”
She left my side to give him company while I dried off and rummaged through my clothing. Before the fall of Zaar, I loved my wardrobe. Afterward, the fancy gowns and robes were cumbersome and impractical. It took me far too long to select something rather plain. I tidied myself in the mirror and hurried out, eager to get it over with.
The hallways were swamped with people at the bottom of the staircase. They all raised their glasses to me when I exited the tower, surprising me as I had not been paying any mind to those outside myself.
“Hail Queen Lazarus,” they said in triumphant voices. I suppose an alternate version of me would have enjoyed being beloved by my lessers, but all I could think about was my mission. It was my duty to bring absolute ruin to Praetis. That meant that every noble or otherwise attempting to impress me would wind up dead before the end. I was okay with it, which did not make it a comfortable situation.
I glared and forced my way through the crowd, though they gave no mind. They were all far too intoxicated and entertained to care about my temper. The increased amount of those in the hall came from the throne room, as Vincent had ordered most of them to leave. I do not think it was for my sake, or Raven’s for that matter. He had likely grown bored.
When I joined them, I was disgusted to see who remained. Lydris was there, indulging in a few women on the far side. Guinevere was pacing like a caged animal. Fevith and Devith were dissecting a corpse near the door. Raven was seated next to our Master, allowing him to pet his hair while he rambled drunk nonsense endlessly. It was not at all the sort of party I was interested in attending.
“Lazarus!” Vince yelled. He had not paid attention when I entered again, but through the bond, he knew I was there. Raven looked somewhat relieved to have our Master’s focus shift and slipped away toward the side of the room.
“Yes, Master?”
“I knew it wasn’t a mistake making you Warden. Dispensing punishment to my foes seems to be what you are best at… if the rumors are true.”
I wished to tell him that all my feats I did for Naazvaba, but we were still playing games.
“All of the rumors are true,” I assured him, feeling the wrath of Lord Nakarius flash through my eyes. He stood and walked toward me, swaying like he was on a ship at sea.
“All of them? Including the one about you being captured and forcing everyone to retreat toward Diam? How many lives did we lose?” His tone had grown irritated, instantly putting me on edge. When his hands touched me softly, I tensed, waiting for his torturous magic to course through my being. It never came.
“I was not even locked up a day,” I replied sharply. I would not be seen as anything less than victorious. “It played in my favor, and I would repeat my actions if I was put in the same scenario once more.”
“You didn’t answer the question.” He got in my face and glared straight through me, daring me to lie or otherwise evade the question. It was confusing as to why he cared. It was like he needed a reason to be angry.
“Fifteen percent loss.”
It was closer to twenty percent, but I hardly expected my drunk Master would be following up to see if my words were true. Instead of shrinking at his angry demeanor, I felt provoked. I was home once again, dealing with his dramatics, yet somehow, I was silently delighted at the challenge. The success of Naazvaba was more important than the lives of his puppet-state; any opinion otherwise is treason.
He let me go and backed away. His face was somewhat puzzled, but it calmed. That annoyed me – I recall wanting him to be furious with my success. Perhaps I wished to feel greater than him.
When I came home from my very first victory, I was more than cocky – I was arrogant. My grand sacrifices – primarily the royal Zaarian family and Gradelkine – had boosted my demonic potential. War was like a fifth limb or a second brain, and a pleased God of Wrath and Violence? I was invincible.
Childish, wouldn’t you agree?
I had never personally seen my Master fight. Yes, maybe a few scuffles with our kin, but not any battles. The five-thousand-year-old myths of dragon genocide really seemed like myths as I watched him gorge himself on wine. Of course, they were true, but he had grown more than soft, or at least that was how it seemed.
I was nearly drawn to put him in his place, beneath me, right there.
“There’s no way that’s possible. I accounted for a loss of forty percent at least –” he trailed off, unsure of how we managed such a feat.
“The power of our Gods is more than mighty, Master,” I replied passionately. Perhaps it might have sounded to others that I was avoiding the question, but I was only trying to remind him of the capabilities of Naazvaba. He had forgotten as of late.
I expected him to grow more irate, or strike me even. Instead, he gripped my face and kissed me deeply. It was strange… unlike any other we had shared previously. It was demanding and hungry. He held the back of my head and refused to let me go. Our bond made my heart feel weak. Despite any subconscious disapproval I may have had for my own actions, I still returned it with just as much emotion.
He was neurotic in the highest degree. One moment he was upset and near hurting me – the next he was ready to make love to me on the floor in front of everyone. I feared death so little that I refused to show caution to his dangerous side. I bit his lip, forcing it to give way to my desires. I missed his blood more than anything else while I was gone.
Vince pulled away, though I saw a hint of a smile due to my notable lust. He peered around the room and down at his empty chalice. “What disappointing company, wouldn’t you agree?”
I merely glared at Lydris in the corner of my eye. My Master did not need another consenting sign. We dispersed into shadows, though he was the one in control. He might have wanted to avoid the crowds, but I thought he was as hypnotized by the emotions of the bond as I was. We traveled into the tower we called home – into his room.
Naturally, there was a fresh wine bottle awaiting us – or him, rather. I expected to give into our desires the moment we were alone, but Vince was enjoying his binge of indulgences. He poured me a glass alongside his, too. I followed suit when he raised his toward mine.
“To victory, beloved,” Vincent said sweetly, caressing my cheek.
I would have said, “To Naazvaba,” but I was starting to feel regrettably lovestruck and stupid again. I watched him drink his and set my untouched glass on the table. Even being somewhat dim, the fighter in me never allowed my guard to go all the way down. It would be foolish to be too intoxicated around my Master during his mood swings.
He swept me off my feet and carried me to his bed. His robes were already partially off, so it was mine that he fussed with. And once they were, he sat back on his knees with some sort of genuine smile. It was unlike him – as if I was seeing a secret, hidden part of him I hadn’t witnessed before.
“You cut your hair,” he noted, twisting the tips of it between his fingers. It had grown significantly in actuality. It was halfway from where it had been before I left for Z
aar, as my hair grew quite fast. “I waited so many nights to be reunited with your eyes… your blood. This war was almost too long.”
He kissed up my thigh and my side. I was somewhat unnerved to see his shadowy tendrils sprouting from his back. They snaked around my ankles and wrists, preventing me from leaving. It was too tight, as always. Per usual, he did not want me struggling while he did what he pleased.
First, it was biting into my shoulder hard enough to make me moan. My time spent with rough lovers – primarily Raven – made his actions arouse me rather than make me fearful like I might have felt before. My Master and I did not have sex often, as it was obvious James was preferable. Even within knowing I would have to kill Vince someday, the lack of attention I received from him made me jealous.
After he had his fill, sharing it with me in a kiss, he slid himself inside me. Whether it was actually him, or one of his tendrils, it was hard to tell at that moment, for he grabbed my face and forced me to keep my eyes on him. They were beautiful – they reminded me so much of Lord Baelarius I felt homesick for the Void again.
“You’ve been sacrificing quite a bit, haven’t you? You aren’t shaking like a leaf anymore.”
“How else would I repay my debts?” I breathed, moving with him against me as much as I could.
“I never thought I would meet my match – I can feel the Void living inside you. It’s awful –” he paused and kissed my jaw before pressing his mouth to my ear. “And I’m enticed, Lazarus. It’s like fucking a divine being.” His tendrils retracted, including the one that had apparently been responsible for my pleasure, and he took their place. I pulled him close and nuzzled his neck, thinking about how much it benefited me that he finally felt something.
“In fact… it’s almost like he is in the room right now… watching us.” Vince’s pace slowed and his expression was somewhat concerned when he escaped my hold. Obviously, he knew Lord Nakarius dwelt within me, but I believe that was the first time he realized our Gods had found a new way to monitor him consistently. “Make him leave until I’m finished with you.”