The Forgiven

by Nikki Hunter

  Layla blinked at her. “I can try.”

  Behind them the door to the bedroom violently flew open, Vargan stood within the door frame making it look small. He scanned the room, bowing slightly at the king and heavily frowning at Layla.

  “The queen is looking for you my king,” Vargan gritted out through clenched teeth.

  “You mustn't speak of our visit here.” The king pointed to Bekket then to Vargan. Both men nodded. “Fine, take me away then.” Vargan gently wheeled the king out of the room without making eye contact with anyone else.

  “Layla,” Vargan commanded.

  She stiffened beside Camila. “I have something to tell you,” Layla tried to say as she took steps toward the still open door. The fate had asked of her one thing, to tell Camila of the powers that dwelled within her small frame. Powers that prevented the queen from ever fulling draining her. Powers that had managed to keep her alive for this long.

  “There isn’t time, now. Get me what I need and you can tell me whatever you want,” Camila said matter of factly.

  That was the last time they had spoken.

  Layla continued to squirm in the meeting as boredom and nervousness left her feeling uneasy. She never met Vargan’s stare. She couldn’t bare to lie to him after all the training and wars they had been through together. He had even allowed her to come to the castle with him. Yet she had to do what needed to be done.

  As soon as this meeting with the queen was done Layla would flee this land in search of the white watch.

  Chapter Three

  Maps and Metal Boxes

  Something almost like cowardice nipped at Layla as she stood just feet away from the tear. The day was mild and the suns were still shining cheerfully above her as if to encourage her on her trip but it still felt weird. Still felt wrong.

  She never pictured herself sneaking away from the higher ups in her chain of command. If Vargan knew what she was up to, oh, he would have her removed from the guard as quick as possible and even marked her as a traitor. If Queen Katrice found out she would have her head. However, if this small act of defiance could save her brother, like he had saved her so many times before, she would do it.

  Each passing breeze that tousled her chestnut hair, bound in a long ponytail, acted as encouragement. Even nature seemed to be urging her forward. The small bit of wind that went by lifted the odd curtain of the tear to show an empty black paved road surrounded by stone lined buildings.

  Layla took a deep breath, taking in the familiar scent of home. Her black uniform sounded slick as it whisked with every movement she made. She tried to ignore the hard pounding of her heart inside her chest as she ran towards the tear. Treteauh wavered around her, blurring as she skidded on her side to slide through the gap between this world and the human’s.

  Soft blades of grass quickly became harsh asphalt and rock that scrapped against her clothes. Layla laid against the ground unsure of her next move. The air here smelled…bad. It smelled like dirt, not like the dirt back home that was ripe from nature, but like filth. So much filth. Layla felt like she might choke on the air here. How did her brother survive in this land for so long?

  Standing she held in a cough and tried to cover her mouth with the neckline of her uniform but it was too snug to stretch enough to cover her mouth and nose together.

  The human realm was already cloaked in night, the odd single moon shining down on her. This moon was not as happy as the suns that she just left, she thought. Layla’s ears perked up like a hound’s as she took in all the noises of this realm too. A heavy humming was quickly growing louder, in the distance horns blared, people laughed, and dogs barked.

  She emerged from the alleyway, glancing down either sides of the man made road. Bright beams of sun accompanied the humming noise. Layla stepped closer. A large metal box on wheels zoomed passed her sending its own current of strange polluted air toward her.

  That wasn’t the only box on wheels that was roaring around these roads. More appeared the longer she stood staring at the pavement. After a few minutes a couple holding hands walked by sending her strange glances as they passed.

  Layla thought she might be standing out here since these few people she saw were not wearing any form of uniform or insignia to tell which kingdom they belonged to. Nor were they balancing a large sword on their hip.

  Roughly she cleared her throat and dusted off the dirt that had collected against her shirt and pants when she entered this realm. To her left one of the buildings had their lights shining from inside, perhaps she would find the help she needed there.

  Rocks from the alley grounded under her toes as she swiveled and made her way toward the glowing building. Layla tugged at the metal door. With one hard pull it swung open a bell ringing above her head. Her eyes widened and her hand went straight to the weapon on her belt. Was this some sort of alarm system?

  No one came for her. Not a soul moved as she made her entrance. With great caution she edged forward looking at the rows and rows of shelves lined with all sorts of items. She glanced at the pictures on the labels. Most appeared to be some kind of canned vegetables or other food type items she wasn’t familiar with.

  Humans didn’t have a market to buy their food from? Did they eat everything out of metal cans? That just did not sound appetizing to her.

  Continuing down the aisle a voice broke over her shoulder. “Can I help you?”

  The man that looked at her now was very round, his hair receding behind his ears, and the shadow of a beard covered his multiple chins. He seemed unamused by her presence and his eyes automatically darted to her blade.

  “The cosplay convention thing doesn’t start until tomorrow. We don’t have any costume makeup here but there is a small cosmetic section down aisle four.” He frowned pointing behind her.

  What in the gods was cosplay?

  “Actually,” Layla started, “I was wondering if you could help me find something else.”

  The man turned back to her. His eyebrows raised up over his never ending forehead. “Yes?”

  Layla took the moment to reach into her pocket and pull out her sketch. She worked on this picture for a couple hours before she had ventured toward the tear between the realms. She wasn’t very artistic but she thought she had definitely done it justice, especially when she was working off of the memory of the image Camila had given her. The large grey building should be easy enough to find.

  “Here.” Layla unfolded the paper. “Can you tell me how to get to this place?”

  The man laughed. He glanced at the paper then laughed again. “Are you serious?”

  “Why would I not be serious?” she questioned, folding her arms over her chest.

  “Look, lady, I don’t know what your deal is here but I don’t know how you expect me to give you directions to one of the possible billions of homes in this city. Try looking around the neighborhoods on Kennedy, there are a lot of nice, quant homes around there.” He paused. “Are you going to purchase something?”

  Billions of homes? This realm must have armies upon armies at their beck and call. That many homes had to mean triple the people or more! How was she ever going to find this building? It would be like finding a switchblade in a pile of long swords.

  “Can you point me towards this Kennedy region?” Layla gingerly folded the paper back up and put it in her pocket.

  “Do I look like a map?”

  A map! This realm had maps, of course!

  “Could I perhaps get a map?” Layla continued to question.

  The man looked exhausted at her request. “Yeah, they’re right here. It’s going to be five dollars.”

  “Five dollars?” She hadn’t thought to bring anything with her to trade for items here, that and she didn’t know what a dollar was.

  “Yes.” He held the map firmly in his hand.

  “I, um, do not have a five dollar. I have this silver blade I could trade for it?” Squatting down Layla pulled the small blade from her boot.

  �
�Woah!” He threw his hands up backing away from her. “I can’t accept any trades. Get out of my shop before I ring for the police.”

  Puzzled, Layla sheathed the knife again. Clearly, she wasn’t welcome here. Gods forbid he call whoever their police were. Layla cocked her head to the side looking at the man in interest, sweat was already beading on his wrinkled forehead.

  “I’ll see myself out.” Layla frowned strolling from the store, concern now twisting her features unpleasantly.

  Back into the exposed world encased in the bleak night that was only broken by the glow of the single moon and the yellow lights that poured down from long poles along the road, Layla pressed forward. More boxes on wheels putted along in front of her as she twisted around wondering where she should head to next.

  A large yellow type metal box rolled to a stop before her, water splashing up on her boots from the puddle it ran through. Slowly, the glass pane eased down puffs of smoke escaping into the already polluted air that surrounded her.

  “Need a ride?” a dark haired woman asked leaning toward the window.

  “You would do that for me?” Layla smiled.

  The woman snorted. “Get in.”

  Layla nodded. Her hand met the cool metal of what she assumed was the door. First she tried twisting the handle nothing happening, next she tapped against it wondering if it required some sort of key.

  “Are you getting in or no?,” the woman asked.

  Clearing her throat, Layla leaned toward the open window. “How do you open the door?”

  The woman raised an eyebrow. “For real?”

  Wind picked up tossing Layla’s ponytail behind her as she stood in silence. So many people here must be used to people playing some sort of tricks on them to be constantly asking if Layla truly meant what she was saying, she thought. Interesting. Did that mean she couldn’t trust anyone either?

  When Layla didn’t respond the woman got out of the box walking over toward her. Instinctively, she placed her palm against her sword. The lady who had offered her help swiftly joined her at the door dramatically tugging at the handle and opening the door for her.

  “Your Majesty,” the woman sneered.

  “I’m not royalty, just a part of the queen’s guard. No formal name is necessary.” With that Layla plopped into the leather seat, much more comfortable than she thought she would receive but just as dirty as the world around them.

  Her escort shook her head pushing the door closed once Layla was completely settled and returned to her seat behind a large wheel.

  “Address?” she asked as she twisted to see Layla better.

  A heavy sigh broke Layla’s lips as she pulled the picture from her pocket again unfolding it and sharing the image. “Here, I need to go here.”

  “Get out of the car.” The woman rolled her eyes.

  “I’m sorry, what?” Layla stammered.

  “Get out.” The girl shooed her with her hands pointing back at the door.

  A small quiver ran through her hands as Layla tried to find the way to open the door from this side, unsuccessfully. The dirt smeared inside was much like the outside in the way that Layla saw it as an odd sort of puzzle, one she didn’t know how to figure out.

  The woman pushed herself out onto the street again stomping over to Layla’s door once more. With hesitance Layla watched the woman, who’s features now narrowed in a heavy glare, stepping out where she stood minutes before.

  “This is my job you know. Don’t waste my time.” She hissed climbing into the metal box that purred loudly down the street leaving Layla more frustrated and confused than before.

  Chapter Four

  Off With Her Head

  Their footsteps echoed along the empty halls of the castle. Every corner of this royal manor was barren. Clearly, Camila wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to be here. As soon as she left the room it felt as if the energy had already been drained from her body perhaps just from the knowledge of what was to come.

  Next to her Vargan looked about the same. His long hair was knotted and frizzing in an unkept way she had yet to see him in. Under his eyes were severe dark circles that brought attention to his weary gaze.

  After a few more quiet moments Vargan caught her stare. “How are you?” His rough voice broke the silence.

  Camila cocked her head, her eyes became small slits as she glared. “How am I?”

  Vargan nodded, his mouth dragging down in an unpleasant scowl.

  Camila laughed, giggled really. The sound bounced around them making Vargan uneasy. “How am I?” She laughed some more.

  “Glad to see you still have a little bit of a spark in you, genie.” Vargan sighed running his hands over his beard.

  “We both know why I’m not doing well but why do you have such a long look underneath all that ridiculous facial hair.”

  Vargan stopped walking, not that Camila minded. It only stalled the misery she was about to feel. Delayed the inevitable. Postponed the pain. The young girl, Jasmine, was just another victim of Katrice. Camila’s powers had yet to run empty, not completely. The agony of the process had her body shutting down everytime.

  Perhaps it was Jasmine’s doing. A gift that she wasn’t taking it all in a small rebellion against the queen.

  “You don’t like my beard?” he asked.

  “That is not what we are talking about,” Camila said.

  Vargan gently grabbed both of Camila’s arms, holding her firmly in her place. His eyes grew wide as he took her image in, as he noticed how she didn’t shrink away from his touch even through all the pain she had been through.

  “It’s… this is wrong. I know it’s wrong,” he mumbled.

  “You think?” Camila whispered harshly, slowly pushing his hands off of her arms. “You could do something about it. You don’t have to stand by and watch her ruin your home or rip the powers away from so many fae or kill people. Kill me.”

  “It isn’t that simple.”

  “It’s always that simple.” Her words hissed through the halls.

  Vargan’s face twisted in anger, fear, and possibly sorrow too. Camila stood still as he turned away from her continuing on toward the queen. He sent her one last long look over his shoulder before she trudged along behind him. The pain would come. Hurt would be here sooner rather than later.

  Camila wasn’t prepared. No matter how many times the queen had Jasmine pull the magic from her she was never ready for the agony again. However, she pushed forward without a fight. She knew the time was coming when all this would end.

  The weight of this war was balanced on Layla’s shoulders now. The time was coming. This queen’s rule would end with her head rolling at Camila’s feet, she was certain.

  Off with her head.

  Chapter Five

  Sleep

  Zayn was sick of making this trip already. The distance between the kingdoms was enough that he tired in their travels. It didn’t take long as their magic carried them from one place to the other but it was draining nonetheless.

  With Kade and Yehven behind him, they crept silently among the brush watching Queen Katrice’s guard shuffle in and out of their tents. It was the end of their day and the training was coming to an end, soldiers were now preparing for bed.

  They needed a head count. If Queen Noreen was to march her army up against Queen Katrice’s they needed to know what they would be getting into. Now they just had to convince Queen Noreen to do so. She seemed quite uninterested in participating in any wars at the moment, but Zayn would show her it was the only way. Zayn & Kade.

  Zayn was nodding to himself taking mental notes when Yehven broke the silence. “They just seem like regular foot soldiers. No special powers.”

  Kade swiveled on his heels, piercing Yehven with his gaze. “We still aren’t talking to you.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  The tension between the men made the air stale and their attitudes bitter. Yehven sent Zayn a pleading look, throwing his hands in the air. Zayn p
assed him an apologetic look back. Kade was still holding a bit of a grudge, gods help Yehven.

  “I thought we agreed that I would freshen up on my powers and then I could help. I’m still apart of this team,” Yehven continued.

  Kade practically snorted. “We may have agreed for you to help but that doesn’t mean we aren’t still upset with you for lying to us. Also, it isn’t for us to decide if you stay apart of the team, half of us are missing. Possibly dead I might add.” Kade nudged Zayn with his elbow.

  “Right, Zayn?”

  Zayn chuckled uneasily. He hated being in the middle of drama, especially between two of his oldest friends. However, Kade was somewhat right. What kind of friend lies about themselves for decades? Yet in the midst of all of this Zayn was still more of a forgive and forget kind of fella. Yehven had, had their back all these years. Saved his ass more times them he could count.

  “Guys, I’m just looking to get Camila back safe and sound.” Zayn turned away from where they had been watching for hours now. His image flickered with the wind as he disappeared to go back to their campsite. He didn’t feel bad for leaving Yehven and Kade alone, though he wished he did. Any emotions besides weariness and anger seemed to be incredibly fleeting during this trying time.

  Zayn sighed to himself as he sparked his magic against the tip of a twig, the zap quickly sparking the wood. They had watched Queen Katrice’s men for too long now and the time that was wasting away made him tenser with each passing minute. Zayn felt the burden of passing hours settled in his bones. Never had the possibility of impending doom in the near future seem to keep his anxiety reeling as it did now. He was sick of watching the camp. Watching this camp, watching the others. It was all a terrible waste.

  They knew the numbers, they knew the ins and outs. The camp they had just scouted was clearly the heart of Queen Katrice’s army by the amount of weapons that circulated the site before being taken to the others.

  It didn’t take but a few minutes and Kade appeared before him giving him a look that screamed he was about to get a lecture. Kade didn’t bother to hide his words as Yehven appeared five feet away.