The Hungering Saga Complete

by Heath Pfaff

  "Kye believed what she had to, Tempest. She was not given any choice in the matter. The king's contract took away her freedom, and that of her people." I said, putting as much conviction into my words as I could manage. It was not easy, since the elder Knight had struck on exactly a matter that had plagued me for years.

  "For her it was an honor to die for our country!" Tempest's voice held a fierce snap. "That is as it should be; for a Knight of Ethan, or even for a lowly keeper of lore. We all serve the king to make this world better, but you. . ." He spat at the ground at his feet.

  "You squander your gift and belittle your Bound One's sacrifice because you think you have the right to question the authority of the king. What is worse, you have killed our brothers and sisters, fellow Knights who have worked hard, and lived difficult lives for the cause in which they believe." There was a terrible fury behind his words, and I could hear his control of "the voice" slipping away as he spoke, making his words even sharper than they already were.

  "I loved Kye, and if you think. . ." I began, my own words heated by the conflicting anger and misery that rolled within me.

  "I know you loved her, and that is why what you've done to her memory is even more terrible than it would be otherwise. I came here to tell you, Lowin, that you are the worst type of man. You are one who cares nothing for anyone but yourself. The king has said he will not kill you, and I will abide by his word, but know that I believe you deserve the death you have been saved from." Tempest's cloak snapped as he spun about and departed, leaving me once more in the terrible silence.

  He could not have aimed his words with any more lethality. If his goal had been to demoralize and destroy my sense of self, he had achieved it in one short speech. He had accused me of everything I had most feared about myself, and I wasn't certain any longer that he was wrong. It was difficult to look back at my choices, and still believe them to have been the right ones. What would Kye think of what had become of me?

  The king sacrificed innocent lives to make his armies powerful. Tempest's king, my king, killed innocent people, stole their lives away, so that his army would be more potent. He did this, he said, to insure a safe world for the kingdom of men, but did the ends justify the means, and was the safety of his people really all he wanted?

  I walked to the wall of my cell and slammed my fist into the stone there, an act of pointless rage that did little but shatter the bones within my fist, and tear the flesh from my knuckles. The wounds began to heal at once, but a dark stain remained on the wall. I wanted to fight back, to strike out at the injustice of the world, but all I could do was rage at the stone. The stone did not care to listen.

  I closed my eyes, and willed the world to end.

  "You're being moved." Those words startled me from my sleep. I'd taken to sleeping as often as possible, even when I did not feel tired at all. I couldn't be certain how much time had passed, but I guessed it to be months. At first I had tried to stay active, but as time wore on any hope of escape I retained began to fade, and so I simply slumped into a corner of my dank cell and slept. Other than the servant sent to give me water and food and their guard, who came only infrequently, no other visitors ever entered the dungeon. That didn't bother me as much as knowing that Kay was somewhere out in the world beyond the bars of my prison, likely in terrible danger.

  I stood up and stretched, the muscles in my body responding quickly despite their many days of inactivity. So long as I still drew breath, my muscles and my body would remain powerful. That was one more legacy of the power I'd gained when I received Kyeia's eyes.

  Four guards stood at the entrance to my cell, each dressed in the shifting cloaks of the Knights of Ethan, and each with their swords drawn. I wondered for a moment if I could take them all and make an escape, but I knew that with my injured heart I did not stand a chance. The betraying organ hammered heavily in my chest, as it had been doing for several days, in a strange fits to remind me of its weak mortality. I could almost feel it pounding at my ribs, as though it were trying to escape from the body that had so abused it. I wondered if the new pounding was an indication that the muscle was wearing down.

  The door to my cell swung open for the first time since I'd entered it, and two guards came forward and grabbed my arms, locking their fists around my wrists tightly, and pointing their swords so that the tips rested just below my throat. The Knights were strong, but I knew that I was stronger. If my heart had been reliable, I could have easily pulled myself free from my captors, but I knew how much stood on the line and so I submitted. Somewhere beyond the walls of the castle, Kay was waiting for me to come and save her. If I died, she would have no one to come for her. I wondered, as well, what had become of Malice. If Malice broke free, I knew that she would look for Kaylien, but where could she begin? Where would I begin if I was free? It was a question hardly worth considering.

  I hung my head in defeat, and let the guards lead me where they would. We did not go far, but the scenery around me did change. We seemed to be passing from one section of the prison into another. The cells were becoming better kept as we went, until finally we came to hallways lined with not bars, but heavy steel doors. I was lead past a few of these before my heavily armed guards stopped, and pushed open a metal door to reveal a surprisingly pleasant room. There was a well-made bed, and enough room to walk twelve paces from wall to wall. There were no windows, but I saw a room off to one side that looked like a private bathing room.

  I was so surprised that I nearly opened my mouth to ask why I was being moved to such a room, but one of my guards spoke first. She was gruff voiced, obviously a recipient of "the voice," but I could tell nothing else of her since her hood was pulled low.

  "Make yourself presentable for a visitor. You have one hour." She said, before I was pushed into the room, and the heavy door was shut behind me.

  The space was well lit, and even furnished with a desk and a few chairs. I found myself confused, and a little worried. For the first time in ages events were moving again. I had grown accustomed to the monotony, and I was taken aback by how quickly things were changing. I decided it would be best to do as I was told, and the thought of a proper cleaning did seem appealing.

  I stepped into the bathing room and found the tub was already full of water that was still warm to the touch. Beside the tub were a mirror and a blade for shaving, as well as a fresh change of clothes set out for me. I stopped as I saw myself in the mirror for the first time since in a long while.

  I had not precisely grown a beard, but my face was covered in rough and patchy stubble. My eyes had great dark circles around them, and my cheeks were gaunt. My flesh, which had always been pale, had become almost translucent. My hair was long now, it hung far below the line of my chin, and was matted and terribly greasy. I went to work with the blade, cutting the knots from my hair, and trimming the mess of stubble from my face. After a few minutes of this I looked better, but still quite rough around the edges.

  I stripped away the clothes I'd been wearing for the entire length of my imprisonment, and cast them aside before stepping into the warm water. By the time I was done with the water and provided soap, the tub was dark gray with filth, but I was feeling considerably better. I pulled myself reluctantly from the bath and did my best to wring the moisture from the fur of my arms and legs. It wasn't the first time in my life I'd had to do so, but it had been a while, and I'd almost let myself forget just what a pain it was to dry fur.

  I dressed in the clothes provided, a strange outfit of gray and blue, a set of colors I'd never worn in my life, let alone since I'd joined the Knights of Ethan so long before. I felt better once I was clean and freshly dressed, but without my familiar cloak about my shoulders, I still felt exposed. I was cleaned and ready for whatever visitor might come, but I still had time, so I walked about the new room to which I'd been brought.

  For all that it was nice, it was still a prison cell. There was no way to view the world outside and contained little that would provide a
distraction from the tedium of time. I lay down upon the bed and began to think. I wondered who was coming to see me that would require I have a new room, and be cleaned ahead of time. The king himself had come to my dark prison cell to see me, so what was different about this new person?

  I desperately wanted it to be Malice, and even more desperately hoped it would be Malice holding Kay, and that she would tell me the king had lied, and that she had been taking care of Kay the entire time I'd been in the cell below. I knew that latter hope was beyond reality, and I didn't fully believe the prior either. Such hopes were foolish.

  I was startled from my thoughts by the sound of the door opening. I sat up in bed. The door closed and a single figure stood within the room, dressed in a shifting cloak, the hood pulled low. As I stood from the bed, the figure drew back her hood to reveal a female Knight of Ethan that I was unfamiliar with. She had short cropped black hair, and soft features that blended to give her face an almost child-like vigor. What struck me strangest of all, were the clawed hands that drew back her hood. They were covered in a wispy white fur unlike any I'd seen on a Knight of Ethan before. She smiled at me, an expression that looked rehearsed. I could sense an underlying tension beneath the facade. Fear. She was afraid of me. Of course, she, like the others, believed I was one of the most powerful Knights of Ethan. I was not inclined to disillusion her.

  "I am Snow." She said, her voice quiet, despite the open smile she was forcing. "I've been sent here to provide you company." With those words she unfastened her cloak and dropped it about her feet, revealing that she wore not a single scrap of cloth beneath the shifting fabric. Her body was pale white and flawless, her breasts on the small side, with nipples so light pink they virtually vanished. It had been years since I'd seen a woman naked, and just as long since I'd been with one, but I had no interest in sleeping with a woman who meant nothing to me.

  "You may thank whoever sent you on my behalf, but I am not interested." I said, and turned my back to her, ignoring the temptation she provided to the best of my ability. The truth was that my body hungered for hers. It had been far too long since I'd been with a woman. The carnal part of me that was a lonely human man wanted to feel the warmth of her feminine charm.

  I heard the soft padding of her pawed feet approaching, and then her arms were around me, her small, pert breasts pressed against my back. Her arms wrapped around me, her hands seeking down my body, brushing the growing excitement I was trying to ignore. I spun and pushed her away.

  "I am not interested." I said once more, anger creeping into my voice.

  She smiled again, almost shyly, and this time there was more honesty in the expression. "You felt interested to me, Lowin." She stepped closer to me, hesitantly, as though she still feared me. "You will like it. I can make you feel better than you have ever felt before, and when we're done you don't ever have to see me again if you don't want to. How many women would offer that?"

  She reached for me again, and I felt my resolve slipping away. It had been so very long, and she was willing and warm. I let her touch me, her hands going immediately to the buttons on my shirt, which she made deft work of. My control fell entirely away, and I grabbed her up in my arms and drew her to the bed. The rest of my clothes I tore away, my dangerous claws rendering them to ribbons in seconds. I felt her start against me as my claws sharpened to remove the fabric, her heart beating erratically for a moment until she realized my intent, and then she was upon me, her mouth meeting mine hungrily.

  There was little building to the moment. Once my clothes were away, I pierced her with a lust that demanded satiation. Her body responded readily, writhing against mine, warm, wet and inviting. We rolled together until finally sweet release came, bursting forth like a great eruption of joy and madness boiling up from my body. I lay at her side, breathing heavily, listening to the steady pounding rhythm of my own heart. It thrummed against my ribs, as heavily as it had for weeks, but no harder.

  Snow's lips brushed my neck, and she leaned in close to one of my wolf-life ears, which she nipped at lightly. "You're not bad, but I can tell you're inexperienced. Let me show you how to be better." She whispered, and then her lips were on parts of my anatomy that had never been kissed, and once more the passion of the moment was all consuming.

  In the end, I knew not how many times we repeated the act, for passion blurs details, more so for every hour spent. Snow, after our final time, got up from the bed, drew her cloak around herself, and with one last smile, departed my room, leaving me alone once more. My body was sated, the burning passion quieted, but I felt empty and far more alone than I had ever been before.

  For some reason, Malice crept into my mind. I remembered the first time we'd ever made love. It had been gentle, and clumsy, a first for both of us. Afterwards we had lain together, sharing in the comfort our closeness. Snow had been more experienced, and had more tricks to show, but she had left me feeling defeated and empty. I found myself longing for Malice. I didn't only want her body, though I did desire her at that moment, despite having just been satisfied. What I wanted more than anything else from her was just to have her close. Malice, my dear, dear friend. . .

  When next my door opened, I was surprised to see Trina Rew in the company of Snow, as well as one other Knight. Trina looked angry. Snow's face was blank, but the other Knight wore an obvious look of disgust. It was an expression I had grown accustomed to encountering on the faces of the Knights of Ethan. I had killed many of their number in my quest to save Kye.

  "You have not told us everything, Lowin Fenly." Trina began, agitation obvious in her voice.

  I looked at her blankly. In my own foolishness, I was completely unaware of what she was talking about, though it should have been obvious to me. Trina grabbed Snow and pushed her in my direction.

  "Her eyes are still black. What didn't you tell us?" She accused, shooting me a venomous look. Snow looked irritated.

  It was at that moment the realization finally dawned on me. Snow had not merely been sent to me as company, but as an experiment to see if my physical affections were all that was required to bring the color back to a Knight's eyes. That knowledge hurt me. I had known that Snow wasn't really interested in me, but it had been possible to convince myself that the act was at least one of mutual enjoyment. Now that I knew the white-furred Knight's affections were nothing more than a part of Trina's experiment, I felt betrayed.

  I turned my back on them, which turned out to be a mistake on my part. I felt a strong clawed hand on my shoulder, gripping hard, turning me back around. I allowed the motion, lest I risk the grip tightening and tearing flesh. The black eyes of the male Knight of Ethan glared at me.

  "If you do not cooperate with us, your woman will be the one to suffer, Fenly." The researcher's words were heavy with spite.

  "I've told you what I know. What happened with Malice was unintentional. We lay together, and the next morning she awoke with her eyes restored." It was hard for me to speak rationally. So much anger lay curled up inside me, waiting to erupt. I had done my utmost to provide them with the answers they wanted, and in return I received naught but distrust and betrayal.

  "Do you think it would make a difference if we had Snow stay the night in your room with . . ." Trina began, but her words were the last straw. I wanted no more to do with Snow, or with Trina Rew and her research.

  "I've no desire to bed your whore again." I spat the words. For her part, Snow looked injured at my tone. Trina's reaction was different. The woman stepped forward threateningly, something I had not expected from the slight-bodied human woman.

  "You'll bed her as many times as it takes, and until I'm satisfied about the results of the experiment, or I'll see that every man in this compound has a go at your precious Malice before we dissect her to see what makes those green eyes glow. Do you understand me, Lowin Fenly?" Whether it was the long period of isolation, my anger over discovering that they had deceived me with Snow, the direct threat to Malice, or some combination of all
of those things, I found myself pushed too far.

  I charged forward, my claws honing to infinitely fine points, reacting to my will. A figure to my side blurred, and suddenly a Knight of Ethan - not Snow, but the other - was standing directly in my path, his blade drawn. I reached for my speed and strength without thinking, demanding my body give me what I needed to deal with the threat before it could harm me. The world slowed to a crawl, but I did not.

  I flashed my fist forward as fast and hard as I could, throwing his sword aside with my free hand. The balled knot of muscle and bone that was my fist struck the Knight in his chest with such ferocity that I felt his weight lift from the floor. He was still ascending from my attack when I began to move towards Trina. I grabbed the skinny woman by the throat and carried her to the wall, slamming her back with enough force to stun her, but not enough to kill her. I let the world fall back to a normal pace. It didn't waver as it normally did, but instead snapped from its frozen state back to full motion. Behind me I heard a sword clearing a scabbard, and the sound of a heavy body slamming into the metal door of my cell. I didn't look.