by M A Price
She’d been good to him, they had fun together. More importantly she had his back whenever he needed it. They didn’t always agree on everything, Samiah tended to think orders had to be followed to the exact letter and never questioned, but sometimes she would go against that for him, follow his lead and that was probably the best thing anyone had ever done for him. Anyone that cared for him was a good thing at present; who knew what the next few moons would bring…
He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her. She purred as she wrapped her long arms around his waist. He could be sensible, maybe the air would even do him some good.
“Where would you like to go?” He listened to her answers, places he really didn’t want to venture, he had lived here all his life after all and was well aware that Tonkara didn't hold as many wonders as she believed, but his mind was straying elsewhere as he felt his gaze wandering to the nutrient bars on the bed next to her.
He felt more alert than he had done in moons, since he could actually sneak out of this place and properly dispose of the excess power. It felt too good to be true. Was the Prince really trying to just woo Samiah? She was incredibly beautiful and athletic; Reyn Landress certainly had a reputation for wanting attractive women at his side, but-
He’d never liked the man. Didn’t trust how he stared a little too long or had a question ready for every situation. He always seemed to pay more attention than was usual to Jax and his unit and now this. He hadn’t even realised the Prince had noticed Samiah before, but then again, why wouldn’t he? It’s not like his Father was letting him have anything to do with his plans or the councils with The Unforgiven. A drunken womaniser, Jefferson Landress had been prone to call him on the days he wished to be nice. The other days there were far too many curses to work out the other insults.
He was probably just being paranoid. He certainly had been recently. The Prince would be too busy causing trouble to be a problem.
She pulled herself up, using the scruff of his shirt and kissed his neck.
“Let’s go and have an adventure,” she decided, yanking him back towards the door. He took one last look at the bars still scattered on his bed, before he tried to push them from his mind and comply.
Worrying about Reyn Landress could wait for another time. This moon should be about Samiah and enjoying his clearer head.
He paused only to grab his favourite woollen cloak before their adventure began.
***
He’d managed two hours of sleep but every part of him was aching as he slowly made his way to the throne room.
The summons had come at dawn, despite the fact he wasn’t meant to be on duty until noon. He’d dressed in his uniform as quickly as he could but one look in the small mirrored glass of his washroom had made him realise how bad he looked. His cheeks looked hollow, the usual trained muscle of his arms and torso were shrinking away, the scars covering his hairless stomach and arm more prominent. The clear head and energy of the nutrient bar last night felt like a distant memory. Samiah had taken the rest when they returned from their expedition, angry at him for not letting her stay.
She and the others were gazing at him awkwardly now as they marched on, but he had no comfort for their concerned expressions.
He could hardly tell them the truth and he certainly didn’t have the mental capacity to think of a lie. His mother had been the one that made the lies, creations to protect him that he would always follow.
If he was caught here…if they found out who or what he was, he would die. Possibly worse now that the palace seemed to be infested with evil…
Samiah moved her spear-less hand out of formation to poke him slightly on the shoulder and despite the rules he knew he should follow now more than ever, he turned his head to look at her.
“You look like shit Jax,” she whispered, her own blonde hair immaculate as ever.
“I’m fine. Just tired.” No thanks to you, he wanted to hiss, but stopped himself in the nick of time. It would do no good, especially here and despite himself he had enjoyed watching her dance and laugh as she hung from his arm.
She pulled a face but made no further attempts at conversation. He knew she would eventually, and he also knew that Tyr, Joseon, and Jala behind them would have listened to every word. Would they be worrying about their commander or preparing their own bid for a promotion?
The rest of their walk through the white hallways passed without comment or action. Outside the Throne Room Prince Reyn was pacing, a look of utmost irritation written across every feature. The personal guard behind him, taller than even Samiah, seemed to look almost bored or certainly uninterested in whatever the Prince seemed so concerned about.
Jaxon brought himself and his men to a stop in front of Reyn and bowed his head slightly. The others followed suit, except Jala he noted, but decided to reprimand her later rather than highlight the issue. The Prince seemed to acknowledge none of them bar Samiah, who received a slight smile which didn’t quite reach his incredibly dark eyes.
“Have you also been summoned?” he asked, his voice sharp.
“Yes Your Highness,” Jaxon drilled in response.
“How wonderful that I am now being treated like the foot soldiers,” he smirked. His long black hair was pulled into a braid down his back and Jaxon couldn’t help but think Reyn looked paler than usual. At least he wasn’t the only one suffering. His overwhelming dislike of the man didn’t let him feel any sympathy, just a faint curiosity as to what would displease him so.
He bit his tongue to stop a retort which could get him and his unit reprimanded as the Throne Room doors were opened by the King’s returned Commander. Xave was a tall man, his skin as dark as night, with leather spiked armour across every part of his brawny body and twin blades adjourning his hips which rumour had it he never used, preferring to utilise his powerful gift which he had sworn to the King. To The Unforgiven.
“Excellent, you are all here. The King is waiting,” he proclaimed, his voice as slick as oil. He moved his considerable form to the side to allow them all in the room and Jaxon politely indicated the Prince to go first. He certainly hadn’t missed Xave whilst he had been away at the Facility. The saddest part about its demise was his return.
The Throne Room didn’t have its usual candles lit to highlight the splendour. The only two torches that were lit were behind King Jefferson who sat upon his simple wooden throne. They seemed to give more light to the mural of Queen Kara which adorned the far wall. It was the most breath-taking work of art that Jaxon had ever seen. Every time he entered the room, even when the rest of the marble walls were swamped with fire to highlight the paintings of other Kings, Queens or other leaders who had ruled in the Seven Worlds before Brodanna’s creation, he still had to stop himself from staring at it. The glint in her eye, the power that seemed to resonate from her. As if somehow, she still watched them all.
The only other light entering the room came from the skylight in the ceiling, a gigantic glass pyramid, designed by Kara’s father, Herikk, himself. The sun rise peeked through, banishing the shadows, something Jaxon saw Reyn take notice of. The Prince was also staring at his family, all positioned on the dais whilst he stood below. Xave returned and stood next to the Prince after slamming the doors shut. Jaxon couldn’t help but realise none of the King’s other guards or men were here.
Whatever this summoning was, it was important.
Jaxon bowed again, a full one this time and his troops followed suit. Jefferson indicated with his hand to rise.
“What is the meaning of this?” Reyn demanded, displaying no reverence for his family.
Jefferson’s hands linked in his lap, his usual extravagance dismissed for simple brown breeches and a flowing blue cloak. They were so unlike the colours he had always favoured; the colours he had chosen for his armies. For his soldiers and executioners. The red and the black, which swirled into every man’s uniform.
Jefferson looked towards his wife, but she would not meet his gaze. It was the daughter that
stepped forward.
“Why brother, the meaning of this is to secure our kingdom. After all, we’ve lost one of our own and that could interrupt plans we have in motion,” a predator’s smile adorned the Princess’ face, her incredibly pink lip cosmetics shining in the light falling from the ceiling. Her hair was tied up and her maple gown clung to her lithe frame as she descended the steps from the throne, towards her brother. Towards Jaxon. She looked older and far more dangerous than he recalled.
“You are not my sister,” Reyn spat, defiance in every word. Her sudden presence in all Jefferson's dealings fell into place for Jaxon. The Queen’s shoulders seemed to tense, her body rigid on the dais above them.
They had lost the son so offered the daughter.
“How astute,” the Princess laughed. Reyn's hand crept towards the dagger hanging from his belt. “Currently I am not your little delicate sister, but she does miss you so terribly.” The grin widened, her head turned towards Jefferson and back towards an angry Reyn. “It appears your brother was quite weak; your sister certainly seems to be providing a better host.”
“Take me,” the Prince’s only response. Jaxon felt a kindle of respect for him.
“I think such a thing is not possible. Brother, you’re more useful as a tool for this kingdom, the people love you do they not? In a way they have never loved your father and they certainly cannot love your mother. The handsome royal who dares to go out among them.” A cackle then as the Queen’s face sobered further. “You, Reyn Landress, are simply going to do our bidding; help us to protect not only the ones you love but the ones that exist here. The ones that have helped keep us imprisoned for over a hundred years. You’re going to help set us free or your wonderful little mother and dearest kingdom will pay the price for your defiance. I'm sure you wouldn't enjoy their suffering as much as I would.”
She walked right up to his face and Jaxon had the urge to walk in front of Reyn but knew he should not. Everything about her felt wrong, from the contorted face to the alien voice. Nrenna had been quiet and kind. “You’re going to save us all and bring us what we want, after everything we have been trying to accomplish to be set free again, after everything your father has done for us. You’re going to be the one to help us in the end. You will see.”
A chill ran through the room as the Princess raised her hand and froze Reyn in place, his eyes searching wildly for an escape. Samiah let out a little gasp but Jaxon didn’t dare acknowledge it. The Queen had silent tears running down her face and Jefferson had the nerve to look abashed, but never towards his son. It was no secret no love was lost between them. The fury in Reyn’s face suggested none would be growing soon.
Nrenna The Unforgiven, turned her attention towards Jaxon and walked around his Unit of men, her gown gliding behind her as if it was actually Princess Nrenna taking a casual walk. Jaxon knew better though; despite the fact he had never met Prince Hamill when he was said to be taken by The Unforgiven, his mother had brought him up on the stories of what they did and why Brodanna was made. He had seen the fever in Jefferson’s eyes as he had repeatedly chosen to imprison all the Users, to create his armies; to change things for the worse.
This was really happening.
“You,” she said pointing to Jaxon, her body stopped in front of him, a thin arm reached out as she dragged a sharp red nail down the side of his face. The nail tugged and he felt his skin break but made no noise of pain or anguish. “I have been told that you can be trusted, Jefferson says you’re loyal but I sense something special about you. Something you hide from even your king here.”
Reyn moved the only body part he could, his eyes, to stare at Jaxon. He knew the Prince had long felt the same.
“Still, I am new to this body. Perhaps this mind thought of you differently, perhaps she even desired you.” The nail tugged down again, another cut. “For now, we will trust you; you and your commanders. Jefferson has not failed us thus far. There is a new job for you.” She pulled her arm away, his blood clear on her hands. She looked at him again and then sniffed it.
“Your blood smells different to most.” she said. Eyes wide, she slid her long tongue out and tasted the liquid.
“I will remember the taste; I hope to not suffer its like again. Time will tell if I will.” She took a step back, suspicion still rife. “There is a prisoner here. A prisoner who has been brought from the Facility in Torlung. She is important and you will now be guarding her. Nobody else. You will not come here; you will not adhere to any other observable routine; you will watch her night and day. She is dangerous, she is powerful, and she will not leave this place."
“You may recruit anyone else you wish to help you but if they fail, if any of you fail,” her hand swept around his unit, “…then you will be to blame, you and your odd blood. You will pay with your life and your families’ lives, whatever we deem fit at the time. Perhaps we will find a way to use your body, to bring another of us back, if they could stand the smell of you,” she stepped towards the dais and the mother that cringed from her “…now leave here, go to your assignment. I will send Xave, when the light ends, to receive information on your rotation and anyone you need for the coming moon turn. If he deems the information not good enough, then one of your commanders will die as punishment.”
Xave nodded as if her words were perfectly reasonable; a look of adoration like none Jaxon had ever seen. He wanted to ask questions, to argue about their task, these strange rules; to ask the King why he did nothing for them or for his son? Even for his daughter? He had made no move to counteract anything, to argue or to protect any of them; even his wife. Had he given up on all of them? On Brodanna?
“I believe I told you to leave,” Nrenna insisted. Jaxon had no chance to find any words as a gust of air pushed the summoned from their audience towards the doors. They swung open with no assistance and immediately shut after them; as they found themselves back in the hallway.
Samiah’s hand went to his cheek, to the blood falling on his uniform, but Jaxon had already forgotten the wound. A sense of dread, of hopelessness, and of fear was overriding him. He hadn’t even felt this way with his mother, with his father… When Jaxon had done what needed to be done instead. Even when he sent his mother and sister away afterwards. Across the sea, never to be seen again.
He had thought himself alone since that day; facing a terrible threat without anyone to turn to, but he had been wrong. Only now did he know loneliness and fear.
Eleven - Katanya
Marius Torin’s treehouse was as eclectic as the man himself.
She had to climb two ladders before she was finally in the little wooden room they used as a kitchen, or at least somewhere to eat. Katanya knew, from a previous visit here, that they cooked all their meat out in the open and could wholeheartedly understand why.
Tabyka Torin moved around the edge of the room making some form of drink as Marius gestured for Katanya to sit. She dumped her bag on the floor and slouched on one of the stalls. Marius walked over to his wife and gently kissed her on her undamaged cheek before sitting opposite. Tabyka continued making her concoction but winked in Katanya's direction whenever Marius wasn’t looking.
It amazed Katanya how beautiful she still looked, despite the state of the right side of her body. It was the price Marius had paid before he left The Guild; the thing that had made him walk away.
Just after he and Tabyka took their matrimony Marks they had wanted a few days away to celebrate and enjoy one another. He took her to visit the waterfalls near Squilow, where he had grown up. It just so happened that they ran into one of the King’s patrols. One of the first ones to feature Users which had converted to Jefferson and The Unforgiven’s plans. So long this stupid unfaithful King had been helping them…
All of The Unforgiven had power. They had been Wielders when they came here. That meant anyone left with User power was susceptible now that the trap Kara had made for them had weakened. A trap the people who had left them would never have known they needed; a t
rap that would have always failed because of the curse that was left on this place. Less and less power to hold them off.
Tabyka’s glorious face, Katanya remembered it well, had been burnt by one of the Users, Xave his name had been. She’d made Marius tell her as soon as the Guild had brought them back. The same Xave that would later take something from her too. Xave, who didn’t need to be wielded like a puppet by The Unforgiven. He gave himself willingly and with all his might. Xave that she would love to hunt down and tear apart with her bare hands.
The whole right side of Tabyka’s face, neck and shoulders was a mass of scar-tissue, which no hair grew on. Her right eye a dead husk. Katanya could see how bad the wounds still were as Tabyka leaned over and passed her a steaming hot mug of what looked like crabble leaf tea.
It was an acquired taste. One that Katanya had never grown to like, but she certainly wasn’t going to refuse any of their hospitality. She sipped at the lilac coloured liquid as Tabyka took the stool next to her husband. A smile tugged at the side of her mouth she could freely move.
Katanya remembered being young; and her utter surprise when the fun-loving Tabyka, the envy of so many with her beautiful sandy blonde hair, had fallen in love with the grim and ever serious Marius. He had always been well respected in the Guild, the first man Ivloch Youchnore had ever recruited personally, despite this many had made Marius’ stern face the punchline of a joke at a camp fire. Often that joke had come from the lips of Tabyka Glen.
The Tabyka that had fought to stay with The Guild, even when Marius insisted this was no life for them anymore. The same Tabyka that looked quite at home now, in her crazy little tree house and who still secreted smiles at Marius’ expense.
It was funny how life worked out.