She sighed as she pulled herself up, murmuring to herself that seeing him hadn't been a dream. Bertrand was real—he had been there. She still felt the heavy pressure of his hands as he forced her underneath the surface of the river. She still felt the quaking boom of fireballs slamming themselves into the surface of the river and the land. She remembered closing her eyes as one sailed towards Bertrand, only to open them and still see him standing there. His large hand forcing her under the surface of the water as heaven threw fire from its rust colored clouds.
He disappeared when the fire stopped. Then Kat popped up, unable to breathe even though she sucked in air like a hungry babe suckling at a teat.
The once yellow colored field of dead grass before Labassette had been scorched black. Burnt bodies lay strewn in the coal colored waste. Their hands reaching towards the skies, their arms shielding themselves. Scale mail armor melded with the mottled skin of a Sonant's blackened corpse as a batch of red tipped arrows sprung from the head of a foreign soldier. A man or woman confessing loyalty to Vidonia and the north, Kat assumed.
She could still smell the scent of burning flesh, the smell like sulfur yet nauseatingly sweet. Kat felt her stomach roll and tumble, her belly lurching as her throat became thick with acid. Forcing herself to stare at the untouched stones of Labassette's two gray towers, Kat's vision became a narrow tunnel as she stalked towards it. Her right hand gripping her left arm. Her lower lip trembling as the smell of human skin overwhelmed her.
Overhead, the rolling clouds of rust darkened. Their color a somber black as it began to rain.
~~~
Walking the familiar stone corridors of Labassette, Kat approached the only room she thought of as home—Vidonia's study. At the end of the corridor, gathered around the thick oaken door that once led to Vidonia's room, were three Sonants in light gray scale mail armor. They heard her encroaching footsteps, but paid her no mind as they glared down at a body.
At their feet, lay Anais. Her pale skin gray. Her doe eyes dark. Moving around the ambling group of Sonants, Kat gazed upon the woman who tried to send her to the sea. Anais looked frightened—shocked. Her mouth lay open and the blackened tips of her fingers lay upon her swollen abdomen. Bright red blood stuck to a gaping hole upon her neck, while her matted hair attempted to cover it.
Kat ignored the urge to look away. She ignored the urge turn around and give the woman privacy.
Before the group, the door to Vidonia's study moaned open.
Tangled rubicund locks touched the floor as Vidonia stooped, black taffeta sleeves trailing upon the ground as a tall figure forced her arms behind her. Vidonia was shoved forward with an oof. The councilor almost tripping to the floor before one of the Sonants outside of the doorway caught her. The Sonant was tall, his face concealed by a visor of pointed silver that prodded Vidonia in the crown of her head as he reached to roughly yank her up by the muscle of her shoulder.
“Throw her somewhere,” a familiar voice commanded. “and lock her up.”
Kat couldn't help but smile as the three Sonants edged past her, the familiar figure in the doorway turning away before he set his single eye upon her.
“Has my eye gone to shite?” he murmured, jaw dropping before he closed his mouth. His grim features rising as he curled his lips into a smile. “You aren't dead!” he laughed.
Kat brought her arm behind her back, edging her knuckles along her spine as she puffed out her chest. “Sonant Kaiden!” she beamed—happy to finally be in familiar company. “Glad to see you as well!”
The two shared a laugh—the first bit of laughter Kat had had in some time. Reaching out his hand, Kat grasped it with a nod of her head and the two shook. Kaiden and Kat acting as if they were estranged friends seeing each other for the first time in a decade.
Their hands detached. With a grunt, Kaiden nudged Anais' corpse towards the far wall and closed the distance between Kat and himself. Leaning upon the study's door frame, he crossed his leather bound arms.
Kaiden avoided her gaze. “Your cousin's missing.”
“But he's not dead?” Kat blurted out.
Kaiden cut his eye towards the far wall. Shaking his head, he crossed his legs. “I think not.”
Kat took that as a no.
“Is this...” she ventured, moving her arm from behind her back to rub her forehead. “...is this the Chaperon?” she tried, meeting his eye. “Was this its true purpose?” Was this why the duke stressed it must go through Remicourt?
“We can't win our freedom in blood and steel. Not like the northerners can.” shaking his head, Kaiden ran his fingers through locks slick with grime and dried blood. “The purpose of the Chaperon has always been to test the north's strength. Be it through requesting provisions, or through the needless bloodshed of civilians. This was our choice—,” he roared, stabbing himself in the chest with his thumb, “the Sonants of Liberation have veered the Southern Reaches towards the path to freedom. Instead of losing needless lives with a battle to determine an opposing side's strength, we left the cityfolk at Remicourt and conducted our own people—the Sonants of the South—towards Labassette in the quest for the south's freedom!” he caught his breath, cutting his eye from Kat's gaze. “And, unfortunately, we have lost a sizable amount of our forces. But,” he added with a cunning smirk, “we've acquired a vital piece of the Monarchy's power. An impressive bargaining chip.” Kaiden finished, smiling wolfishly. “How did you come to be here?”
Kat shook her head, “It matters not—I'm,” swallowing, she searched for courage in the cracks of the stones at her feet, “I'm magebane,” she whimpered, shutting her eyes tight. “A witch, Sonant Kaiden.” bringing her gaze up to meet Kaiden's, Kat found sympathy in his gaze. And pity. “What will you do with me?”
It was a Sonant's job to burn a witch. According to so many tales and tomes, women wielding god given magic brought the Cataclysm upon Danae—bringing monsters and dragons, elves and hetaera into their world. To avoid another Cataclysm—a universe shattering force that could grind their world into dust—witches had to either be sent to the Sybil, or burned. The Sonants often chose the latter—slitting the witch's throat first before taking her life by throwing her body to the flames of a pyre or a stake. Kat clenched her fists until her knuckles turned white as she heard Kaiden shift.
She felt a large palm engulf her shoulder. Looking up, she met Kaiden's grizzled face. A white rag hid the eyeless slit opposite the soft gaze of his other eye.
“You wouldn't be the first I've saved.” he told her, clapping her on the shoulder. “Besides,” he murmured, the soft smile growing upon his face warm with bubbling laughter, “I've always known.”
FORTY-THREE
Councilwoman Vidonia stood with her hips cocked, eyes scanning the drafty tower room as the door clicked to a close behind her. She stood at the round room's center, her nails digging into the thick fabric of her black drop-sleeves as she stood. Her sharp incisors biting down on her bottom lip, the skin of her lips blooming to a bloody red as she increased the pressure. Her heart hammered within her chest, only for the throbbing organ to silence itself as she glared towards a towering rectangular window.
The Confrerie has forsaken me, she told herself. Nails plunging through the fabric of her drop-sleeves, I am alone.
Vidonia had played the part of a graceful captive, the councilwoman submitting to the Sonants almost instantly after swallowing Anais' life. Taking what was left of the young sorceress immediately stopped the hail of fire from heaven. Stopping her brought life-giving rain which fell as heaven's apology for the perplexing turn of events; fire hailing from on high incinerating all—except the crumbling towers of Labassette.
Vidonia thought it strange that Anais touched the Power's crux to murder both sides of the warring forces, while using her own life-force to protect Labassette from the flame. The girl had been driven—she was nothing more than Vidonia's dog. An obedient thing professing unconditional love for Vidonia—no matter what the High Sorcer
ess did. When the young sorceress stumbled upon Vidonia's well kept secret, it surprised the High Sorceress when Anais offered herself—her blood, her Power—in the hope that what Anais could give her would quell the High Sorceress's lust. Anais was like the blubbering child Vidonia could never have, nor want.
Anais...Councilwoman Vidonia felt her lips curl into a cruel smirk...what a sweet girl.
Vidonia was sure she'd never find another soul as willing as Anais.
If only she hadn't let the magebane go!
Throwing her hands to her sides, Vidonia crouched as anger roiled through her body like flame. The fire burnt through her veins, erupting upon her skin as beaded sweat.
If only she hadn't let the magebane go!
With the magebane, Vidonia could have finished off the last of the Sonants while gaining a softhearted ally. Katell could have replaced Anais upon her death and became Vidonia's new assistant. With the help of the magebane and her blood puppetry, Vidonia could have returned from the chateau wielding nothing of circumstance for the Monarchy's eyes and still have held her place. The magebane could have entered their minds and misconstrued all. She could have been the south's token of peace. She could have been Vidonia's mouthpiece.
But Anais let her go.
Vidonia had sensed jealousy in the young sorceress. Perhaps—perhaps Anais meant to let the girl escape.
Vidonia sighed, she had to move her mind to greater purposes. Now that she was on her own, she had to free herself from this prison—but how?
A stab of piercing pain speared through the back of Vidonia's head as she thought. The pain blossoming into a rush of warmth as Vidonia stiffened. Her body freezing as a familiar voice rattled within her head.
Councilwoman Vidonia? Can you hear me? Merde—
Vidonia narrowed her eyes as she approached the towering rectangular window before her.
Archmage Ledora? Vidonia thought back, the voice within her head gasping.
We tried contacting the Confrerie, but—
Placing her palm upon the glass, her eyes scanned the barren field of black below. The Confrerie has relayed no message to me.
Ledora swallowed, We were told you were in a bit of trouble.
What have you contacted me for? Vidonia snapped, her head heavy. My Power wanes. Make haste, archmage.
Vidonia felt Ledora's spite build like bile within her throat. The colors of Baate Noir have changed, sister. The black forest is no longer dark.
Vidonia rolled her eyes. The Archon has already notified me. If the changing of the leaves and a midnight sun scares you so, perhaps you should relinquish your title of “archmage”, hm?
Biting back a chuckle, Vidonia felt Ledora seethe as heat welled up within her chest. Our hatred for each other is shared, yes? This much is obvious—but superior forces play calamitous games thrice more important than our decade old feud, Councilwoman. The changing of the leaves in Baate Noir—
Once again, Vidonia rolled her eyes as she cut the archmage off, The monsters will be free—you must think me a lean-wit, archmage. I know and understand this—but I can do nothing to stop it. Not in my current situation. My connection to the Power's crux wanes, archmage. Get to the point.
Swallowing her anger, Ledora let out a breathy sigh, Baate Noir's guardian, our Seraphina, has been murdered by a presence engulfed in sun. I've taken on her soul as a passenger within my body, but doing so has weakened my hold on the Power's crux as well. This presence lurks within the forest—setting it alight—freeing horrors and aberrations. We need your help, Councilwoman. We need you to travel to Baate Noir and merge your power with our own so that we may stop this sun presence from doing more harm than it has already done...
Vidonia cocked her head. I cannot, she thought matter-of-factly, for I am locked up.
Then teleport! Use what you have left to send yourself here! The fate of the north depends upon us dispatching this sun presence, sister! Do you not comprehend this?!
Cringing slightly at Ledora's sudden outburst, Vidonia felt the warmth within her skull explode in a shower of skull throbbing pain. Dropping to her knees, she clapped her hands over her ears and replied quickly, Grant me your combined Power—Ledora, Seraphina. I can no longer touch the Power's crux—my head is splitting! Grant me what you have left and I swear to do what I can.
What you can? Ledora snapped back.
Everything that I can.
Silence as Vidonia felt the Power rip into her mind like a leather bound whip. They were doing it—Seraphina and Ledora were replenishing her ties to the Power's crux with what the two souls had left. Though intensely painful, Vidonia felt renewed as the Power raked at her skin—causing the hairs upon her arms to stand at attention as her face fell to the floor. The woman crying out—whimpering—as the Power's crux tightened within her like a knotted rope pulled from both ends. She felt her blood boil beneath her skin as she clenched her jaws and shut her eyes tight. Her forehead kissing the cool stones of the floor as her hands moved towards her temples. Pallid fingers rubbing at cool skin beaded with sweat.
Vidonia felt the world pause.
We have done all that we can, Ledora's voice reverberated clearly within Vidonia's head now. Almost as if the woman were sitting beside her, whispering into her ear. Now, it is your turn, Councilwoman. The fate of the north rests upon you.
Ah. What a pity, Vidonia thought as the pain within her head subsided. A cooling sensation fluttering over the crown of her head like soft fingers creeping through her hair, that humanity's golden age will come to an abrupt end.
FORTY-FOUR
Katell wouldn't be able to stick around Labassette. She didn't want to.
“So, you're leaving us, Maeva?” Sonant Kaiden grunted as he leaned upon her room's stone gray door frame, the tower's dusty corridor yawning behind his large frame. “On your way to Remicourt, then? Port Niva and the Methusa?”
Kaiden had issued her new gear, his Sonants scavenging through the blackened battlefield for untouched clothing and working weapons simply to supply Katell with a getup that would have her looking more like a patchwork soldier instead of a disheveled fishwife.
Kaiden knew what he was doing—supplying her with ax and shield, happily shrugging off a cloak of black bear hide to drape around her shoulders—Kaiden knew what he was doing. Yet, after divulging information on the perceived whereabouts of her cousin and leaving Kat to her devices, he acted positively perplexed that Kat was preparing to vacate the crumbling old tower.
“Remicourt,” Kat told him. “the Chaperon lost him there, yeah? So,” hefting a leather bound shield upon her back, she grunted beneath its weight before smiling at the familiarity of it all. How long had it been since she'd had a shield on her back? A month? Two? Labassette had served as her prison for so long, and now—now she was finally free.
“Remicourt is where I go.” she said, turning on her heel to face him. “Will you stop me, Sonant Kaiden?”
The Sonant's smile was genuine. It was a smile she'd often seen Horace wear whenever she'd demand he practice ax and shield techniques with her. He'd leave her skin mottled in black and blue marks, but she'd always demand—again!—and he'd wear that smile. A smile that offered luck. “You aren't curious as to what will become of your captor, the Councilwoman? Vidonia—that's her name, right?” he asked, cocking his head. “You don't want to speak to her? Don't want the chance to spit on her? Curse her with your power?” he winked.
The final question made her bristle. “Of course not.” Kat spat, setting her shoulders. “I'd be just fine never seeing her again. Do what you will with her,” her hair had been washed and she took advantage of the newfound lightness upon her head. With a flick of her chin, her hair followed. “leave me out of it.”
Kaiden moved aside as she stomped forward towards the corridor outside. “Perhaps it would do you some good?”
Kat froze and gave him a sidelong glare, her chin almost to her shoulder as she turned her head. “When did you get a sense of humor?”
“The moment I saw Death.”
It wasn't a joke and Kat shivered at the black monotone darkening his words.
The two walked shoulder to shoulder in silence for a time, following the curve of the chateau's corridor as wind whistled through the cracks and crevices of the crumbling tower's stones. The weight of Kat's new gear weighed her down considerably, the shield upon her back forcing her to hunch over as the ax attached to her waist belt slapped upon her thigh. As the two neared a crossroads within the tower, twisting stairways leading up towards the tower's top and down towards Labassette's entrance, Kaiden made his plea.
“You should speak to her.” he said, moving to stand before Kat. “She's our prisoner, yes. She kept you captive here, I understand this. You have a multitude of reasons to dislike this woman, Kat. And I have a single one to burn her—but hear me. Before she is judged by the Fates, perhaps you should learn from her. There is nothing more dangerous than a witch unsure of her power, Kat—which you are...”
“Then why not burn me, hm?” Kat snapped, planting her hands upon her hips. “Why not keep me prisoner here as well, hm? You certainly wouldn't be the first—and you'd have good reason to! Why not do it, Sonant? Why not stop me? Why give me the opportunity—no, the ability—to walk out of here and survive out there on my own? Why help me at all?!”
Kaiden reached out as if to strike her and Kat flinched, twisting her head to the side to let him. She had just yelled at a superior—a man who had the ability to strip her of her title and rank. Kat had no right to make him suffer through her outburst—she had no right.
Yet, he simply placed his hands upon her shoulders. Weighing her down with the strength of his hands just as the weapons attached to her belt and back did.
Winterskin: A Dark Fantasy (Kindred Souls Book 1) Page 20