He melted in her lap like a lovesick puppy as he continued watching the angry prince. Shemmy giggled, feeling excited but conflicted. She was happy my brother was to pay, but she was not glad she was having to witness so much of it.
Zan reached up with his good hand to plead with Micah. He swatted it down with a look of disgust before screaming in his pitiful face, “Do not presume to touch me! Do not presume to touch any of us! You are a knight no longer; you are not a member of our group. You are my property, understood? You are now my slave until we return home and you earn your sentence.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” No longer feeling entitled to gaze upon the prince, Zan kept his face down, imploring, “I know I do not deserve to ask this… I feel it is justice that I don’t… but if you’d like me to serve you, Prince, could you please cauterize the wounds? I might bleed out or become ill if you do not.”
“That would be quite fitting, hmm? Shemmy, could you take care of that?” he asked sweetly, walking away from my brother at last.
Micah felt himself growing weak as he skipped over to Billiam. By the time he was within arm’s reach, he felt his eyes closing on their own. When they opened, he was laying on the ground with his head in Billiam’s lap. It felt as if his eyes closed for only a second, yet that wouldn’t have been nearly enough time for the scene to change so much. He saw Shemmy wrapping up Zan’s hand from the corner of his eye, before getting lost in the sweet face floating above him.
“Hi, Billiam,” he whispered meekly with a cute smile.
“Hello, Prince!” He grinned so happily, Micah thought for a moment he had dreamt up the whole gruesome scene he had just produced.
That could not be right, though; he just saw Shemmy treating the wounds. Was Billiam really not terrified by what I did? thought the prince with a troubled look on his face.
Seeing his worry, Billiam leaned down to kiss away all the furrows in his brow. “You overexerted yourself, Micah. You must’ve been running on pure nerve and then used it all up!”
Micah could not understand how he was being so cheerful, so kind. “You… you are not scared of me?”
“Prince, no one has ever stood up for me like that. I have never been avenged… until now, of course. It was frightening to see you be so violent, but I know exactly your feelings. Had the tables been turned, I doubt I could’ve shown that much restraint. I must say, no matter how bloody, that was the most romantic display I have ever seen! I cannot wait to be your husband!” He gave the prince an upside-down kiss, feeling as though Micah had sucked the darkness and pain he had held in the last year right out of him. He wished so hard it hurt that he could do the same. He wanted the prince to have nothing but light and beauty filling his heart as he had in their past life.
“Is that why you are taking me to Alafor? We are able to be married there, are we not?” Micah grinned and started to wiggle about in his lap.
“We are going to Alafor to form an alliance. Why would we need to marry there? You are the rightful king and will be sitting on your throne soon enough. There is not a soul who will be able to stop me from marrying you in our home.”
“Yes, yes! You are right! I wouldn’t have nearly enough time to plan this way, and I never dreamed we would elope…. It will be so lovely! Wait… you are proposing to me, aren’t you, Billiam?” Micah grew embarrassed, a blush crossing over his nose to reach both cheeks. He realized it was merely an assumption at this point, and he was getting very much ahead of himself.
Billiam lifted Micah off his lap, helping him to sit beside him. He turned to him and grabbed both of his prince’s hands into his own. He gave him a look so heartfelt it made Micah feel as though his legs were softening butter. “Micah Helvendeere, King of Casperland, will you be my bride?” There was a huge grin present as he said the last part. He meant it all but couldn’t resist bringing up that memory.
“Oh Spirit! You remember that?” squealed the mortified prince.
Billiam shook his head and became serious again, asking earnestly, “Micah, will you please make me the happiest man to ever live and take my hand in marriage?”
“Yes!” he screamed joyfully, throwing his arms around Billiam’s neck, landing against him with a good deal of force. “You have always been the only man whose bride I wished to be!”
As soon as he heard his own volume, he grew bashful and scanned the camp. He heard Shemmy laughing but saw that she was content sitting at the fire, picking at the flaming goose with her fingers. It was not ready and hadn’t been the half minute before, but that would not stop her persistent examinations. He saw Zan slumped in front of the cave where he, and now Shemmy, had left him. His head was down; he would not be caring about Micah’s exclamation.
“Thank you!” Billiam cheered. “I cannot wait to consummate our engagement tomorrow!”
“I thought the only thing that got ‘consummated’ was a marriage?”
Billiam grinned wickedly and explained to his amused prince, “That would be rather boring, now wouldn’t it? The way I see it, we’ve already consummated your rebirth. Tomorrow, it shall be for our engagement. The time after we can consummate you turning a week old or some such thing.”
“All right, all right, we can consummate our engagement, but after that let’s just fuck, yes?” Micah laughed as he said it, even more when he saw Billiam’s ecstatic expression at his vulgarity. He leaned in for more kisses and affection, before pulling away slightly. “Billiam, might I ask you something?”
“Yes you may, Prince, but the answer will be no. I will not break your rule of indulging without an inn.” He grinned triumphantly before getting his nipple twisted hard by Micah, knocking the smirk right off.
“I’m being serious, you lech!” He sounded irritated but looked both flattered and highly entertained. “I wanted to ask… why is it that you brought Zan with you? How can you even stomach looking at him?”
Billiam leaned back, sighing while he caressed Micah’s hair, gaining encouragement from the touch of it, as he now had a habit of doing. “I cannot stomach it. You’ll notice I barely ever do. I have had to live with the bastard, pretending we are fine to benefit the others and the Order, for the last year. I suppose I became accustomed to stifling my feelings, ignoring his presence. That, and he avoided me quite completely, rather kind of him. I am glad he is not a human, never feeling he ought make amends nor repay me for his injustice. I never had to deal with his snivelings nor be tempted into forgiving him. Since we were able to be so distant living in the same home, I felt we could do the same as we traveled. I needed a faelock with us, so I brought him.”
“But why didn’t you bring Leke? Couldn’t you have been free of squelching your feelings and avoiding his gaze for this journey?”
“I trust Leke more. I needed her to be on her own team, to lead in my stead if need be.”
“But why?” the prince cried. He was feeling ill from his own actions, and he hated this situation he had made even more grotesque.
“Micah, I was afraid that if we did not succeed, and you remained dead, that I would take my own life. Honestly, I know I would’ve. I had written a course of action for Leke should you and I be out of the picture. There was no way I would trust Zan with something so important or with feelings so vulnerable.”
Micah nodded, understanding at last. “We are blessed things turned out so well! I should not dwell on one noxious beast. You and I are what’s important. Our friends, the Logos, the people of Casperland, they are all so important. Forgive me my preoccupation, my love, and thank you so much for your sacrifice!” He fell again into his lover’s arms. Billiam embraced him hard, never wanting to let go, ever again.
Unfortunately, that hug did not last for eternity, as Shemmy broke it up with two flaming hot goose legs. “Suppa time, my sweeties!” She handed one to each man, then grabbed a breast out of the dress pocket she had shoved it in. Billiam really wished he hadn’t seen that.
“Thank you, Shemmy!” cheered Micah as he took a large bi
te, so happy to have some real meat for the first time in his new life. Chewing quick, hoping to speak with his mouth mostly empty, he asked, “Shemmy, will you see to it that Zan eats? He may need your help, due to the shock and all. I know he wanted goose for his last meal, and as much as I’d like to be cruel and make him wait, I am far too happy for that now. Billiam and I are engaged!” Micah surprised Billiam with a sloppy, greasy kiss as he attempted to swallow down his own mouthful. This should have disgusted him, but he conceded anything Micah did would be lovable, especially when it involved his mouth.
“Congrats, Mr. an’ Missus Dandy! I ’ope to be one o’ yer bridesmaids, love!” she chirped, pinching Micah’s cheek before frowning. “Why I gotta feed ’im?”
“Would you really like me to say?” He had a mischievous sparkle in his eye and spoke to Shemmy while looking over to Billiam.
“Right, nope. I’ll be off ta nurse duty, then,” she replied reluctantly, with the giant hunk of goose meat hanging out of her mouth. She trudged to the fire to grab some of it for Zan before walking to him. Micah watched on amused as she started smacking him in the mouth with the floppy chunks of food.
“What was that about?” Billiam queried, licking the grease from his fingers, a habit he was ashamed to have adopted on the road.
Micah smiled and grabbed Billiam’s hand to lick his last finger for him. This should have, again, turned his delicate stomach, but instead did much the opposite. “I thought it was a hollow threat, but apparently Zan also has a memory of Shemmy, one that she doesn’t want known.”
Both their faces grew sour as they joined in a collective “Ewwww,” followed by uproarious laughter. It was hard to believe such a tumultuous a day was ending with glee and high spirits.
My brother couldn’t believe it either. The giggling pained him, while the meat in his mouth turned to mush. He had been chewing that same piece for longer than he cared to know. He wanted to not eat it; he was avoiding swallowing it. He could not bear the idea of sustaining his own life. Shemmy had apparently grown tired of waiting and smashed another chunk between Zan’s lips, caring not if he ever swallowed.
He began to masticate this flesh into oblivion along with the piece from before as he made a list in his head. He was thinking of his most amusing lies—he needed only eight and the energy to yell them. The latter he was nowhere near to possessing yet. With that, he would suffer no longer. Who did he care to say good-bye to anyway? It would not matter to his corpse, either way, and he doubted it would matter to the living much more.
Chapter 14
May 9th, 989
OUR SIXTH day of travel was coming to a close, and the sun had ceased its work, but we continued trekking. We were crossing through the outlying area of City of Alafor, which was kind enough to be lit with gas lamps every quarter mile. It was a great relief to not have to stop when we were so close. We walked along the salted stone tiles, taking in the frosted wonderland about us. The lamps caused each crystal of water to glitter up at us as we passed, momentarily ceasing our resentment at the bitter cold.
I could see the large filigree gate of the city in distance. It looked to be a half mile ahead, at the end of this enormous snowfield, which would be a grand park during the four frostless months. Some other travelers passed by us as we walked, although they ended up running. I had forgotten how vile the beasts my comrades were riding on truly were. We quickly parked them off the path, behind one of the frozen elms. I halted them, not knowing how to truly break the enchantment. With that, we could continue on foot. The second group that passed us was only gawking because of my size. I was used to that and definitely preferred it to sending potential allies screaming.
Alafor’s capital was not sealed off from outsiders like Drummond; they were actually known to be quite welcoming. I wasn’t sure just how welcoming they’d be with darkness encircling, but I was hopeful we could be in without issue. We were all missing civilization differently and had our cravings of what to get out of Alafor. I was thirsting for a soft pillow and some warm milk and dearly hoped no guards or bureaucracy would stand in my way.
Walking through the gates was a breeze. The guards waved us in happily, encouraging us to get warm at once. We were bundled as much as we could be while traveling but looked quite bare compared to the locals.
Entering the City of Alafor felt like falling into a dream, like visiting another planet. The whole city was on the side of a mountain, cutting through it and climbing up it. We could see each intricate layer of life on top of life, businesses and homes pushing one another up. There was a glass dome around the city that also found its end in the mountain’s side. It kept the contents about fifteen degrees warmer and stopped the snowfall from wreaking constant havoc. I was amazed to see a cluster of moondrop flowers growing beside a shop front, taunting the winter with their happy, yellow petals.
We walked through the crowded streets, enjoying the warmer climate and genial atmosphere. There were many quaint shops and food vendors, tempting us with the smell of toasted nuts and other goodies. I had studied the city quite a bit before our venture, so I knew to lead us through the city proper into the northernmost part. That quarter surrounded the castle’s front and was known as the Goddess Gardens. It housed only the most affluent of families and poshest boutiques. There was only one inn there, and although quite pricey, it would keep us as close to those we needed to meet as possible. I was not sure how easy it would be to seek royal counsel but knew that was something best saved for daylight hours anyhow.
As underdressed as we felt entering the city, it was a hundredfold stepping within the richness of the Gardens. All the citizens about were covered head to foot in silks, diamonds, and furs. I do mean and, not or—they wore all three, all of them did. I was surprised to see the fur, as the Alafor were predominately vegetarian. Their national religion Spathalíeism condemned the killing of animals for frivolous reasons, yet I could not understand at all how food was frivolous and furs were not. (I learnt later that these furs were humanely trimmed from living Ekkits, a mammal native only to Alafor that is large and deer-shaped yet soft with a rabbit-like face.) Waltzing past these opulent nobles unbathed and in our dirty clothes should have been mortifying, yet we were too dazzled to notice.
Here in the Gardens, the land spread out, not upward. The castle had its front to us, its heavily guarded marble gates sitting right next to a quaint florist’s shop. The back of the castle had a private port, and all in between was a flat and sprawling open layout studded with beautiful courtyards. We couldn’t see any of that yet, though. We could just stare in wonder at the beautiful people, the sparkling tile below our feet, and the elegant buildings. Each of us had spent time either being or just being amongst the wealthy in Drummond, but it was nothing compared to the refinement we saw around us.
All of us, even Malcolm, were quite struck. We knew how advanced the Alafor were in terms of architecture and industry yet were not prepared for true wonder. As I gazed upon the beauty, my eyes landed on something beautiful I had seen before. Malcolm noticed where my gaze sat and knew immediately we had trouble.
She looked the same as she did that bloody day outside of Casper. Her black hair was long, silky, and wrapped around the curves of her body as if it were sculpted. I was thrilled and horrified at the same time to see a far more becoming outfit encasing her this time, not the dirty lab coat she wore before. It was a short, elegant sheet of white velvet. No, not velvet, it must have been a liquid poured over her that somehow clung on. I know if I were dripped on her, I too would have clung that desperately. I saw in front of me Camilla Dalgarie, chief researcher of Knox’s military sciences department. She was wife to Arrikos the XXI, heir of Enox’s noblest family, and the woman I had fallen in love with six years ago.
Camilla was standing in front of the inn, our destination. I think Malcolm was trying to pull me. I did not move. Katrina was screaming something at me. I heard nothing. Police? Were there police? I suppose there must have been; there was a
cuff around my wrist. I could not see them. I could not feel them as they tried and failed to get me off my feet. I saw her smooth skin, a polished mahogany escaping from the white snow that was lucky enough to caress it. I saw her almond eyes, finally reaching mine, the black marbles within them looking endless, inviting. Her lips, wrapped in burgundy, finally opened. Would she smile? No…. She didn’t smile, did she? She shouted. More police. “That’s them, that’s them.” I think I heard that. A bag on my head, there was a bag on my head? I could not see her; she was gone.
“I love you!” I stupidly cried. This was the last thing I remember.
If being a faelock were a qualitative trait, I would say I am quite good at it. My brother, on the other hand—I would rate him less than mediocre. Firstly, as far as physical strength and speed, I am the best I have seen. I say this in earnest, not as an exaggeration or to pat my own back, but as a simple fact. My brother is strong but lacks precision and patience. His stamina is much higher than humans, about equal to Billiam’s, but only half my level.
As a second faelock quality, I offer up logical and rational thought. I excel at balancing my thoughts and feelings with the emotions of others and against the situation at hand. My brother is a bungling mess. I also have an extremely enhanced third-eye sense, a rare trait among faelocks. This gives fruit to those gut feelings I have and also allows me to step past the realm of empathy, perceiving all sorts of information through any number of boundaries.
That third eye plays into my excellence with the next faelock trait I will discuss. Faelocks are extremely valued for their connectivity, with a great importance put on how well they can sense others. Being strong and beastly is all well and good, but the ability to know when an ally is in danger is invaluable. All faelocks carry blood-bonds with their family members, sensing when they are in physical distress. We do not have to be burdened by their emotions. My brother is quite out of touch with his true faelock self and can barely feel even these blood-bonds. The only thing he had sensed was when our father died a decade back. Other than my own death, I doubt he could feel a thing from me. As far as the emotional bonds with humans, he told me the only one he had was with Billiam. As for me, I am highly in tune with my blood-bonds and carry unshakeable emotional bonds with both Billiam and Ackerman. I have strong bonds with Jessica and her mother and slightly weaker but still essential connections to Micah, Pierre, and Katrina. I probably had one with Malcolm, but he had next to no feelings, so I was unable to test it. This is quite a lot of bonds, and I always thought that showed I was a damn good faelock.
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