The Fire Within (The Fire of The Soul Series)

by Racquel Kechagias

  There are times where masked men come in and torture us, they would torture cat-eyes as I watch helplessly as they mark his russet skin with bloody stripes. Cat-eyes' cries echo around the sealed cell while he is tortured, his cries becoming pained screams as they pour alcohol into his open wounds. They soon turn on to me when they push Cat-eyes further than he can handle. I lose my hold on sanity in those times of torture, my thoughts are distorted, images of truth and memory become things to fear, events to fear just like the majority of my human life. I see days of darkness where Victor has died, and the Skin-walkers have won, where Anna has turned against us, and she reigns with the enemy. I see Emma-Leah turning away from me as if we had been together all of this time. Her azure and silver eyes loathing me with a ferocity that burns like liquid fire. My hopes and dreams are turned into nightmares, everything I ever want to achieve taken away from me, and used against me. My past brought into my future making me feel weak and useless. If I had no reason to hate torture before then I find reason to in these moments. The pain is all consuming, and no matter how much I wish it to end, I feel as if my wish will never be answered, that this pain will be with me for all time, that the circle of this torment, of this torture will continue to go on for all time.

  I awake one morning to find that Cat-eyes has gone, that I am alone in this cell. When my captors come I demand to know where they have taken him.

  "He died in the middle of the night. We took his body out of the dungeon to give his remains back to his family," They say with no compassion in their voices.

  "How long have I been in here?" I ask hoping for an answer. They must be in a communicative mood because another answers my question.

  "You've been in here for a week and two days. Do you have anymore requests?" His voice is bitter and filled with malice. I don't know what I've done to deserve this kind of reception, and then I remember why I'm a felon because I broke their Queen's heart.

  "I want to see Emma-Leah," I say with determination, the bitterness in his eyes become full with malice and loathing. I wouldn't be surprised if he was about to start shooting flames from his eyes from the way that they are burning with such a deep, dark hatred for me.

  The slap across my face stings more than it would have a week and two days ago, and I fall back against the stone, my hands scraping against the flooring trying to prevent more harm on my body. "How dare you demand to see her! You, an elevated human asking to see the Queen of the Fae! As if she would waste her time on someone as filthy, and unworthy as you!" He screams and I start to laugh, the madness of the torture starting to finally show. He spits on me, and I can't help but continue to laugh. He gets into a deep conversation with the other guard who has been impassive and silent throughout the whole ordeal. The other one, the one that was screaming at me, kicks me in the stomach a few times, trying to release his pent up anger and frustration. The conversation flows for a long time, I cannot understand what they are saying, perhaps because I have heard nothing but tortured screams for over a week and a half, or perhaps its because they are speaking in a language only known in Antadova, but their words have little meaning to me. My laughter falters after the first kick to my stomach, and I struggle to regain my breath as their conversation flows swiftly, enriched by some of the Antadovian slang.

  Finally they stop talking, the one that had been yelling and kicking at me leaves in a huff of frustration, and the other kneels beside me, his kind face not one that I would have expected to see in the dungeons of the palace. "Why have you requested to see Queen Emma-Leah?" He asks, his fully white eyes staring at nothing yet seeming to look directly at me.

  "The Vampire King has sent me here, to ask for her help in the war against the Skin-walkers. If I had a choice I would not have returned, as I know how unwanted I am here," I reply, struggling to catch my breath in between the words, speaking only the truth as I look into his white eyes. I can feel the hopelessness at ever getting out of here, and I know it shows in my voice. It is the fact that I feel so hopeless about the sticky situation I am in, that I am surprised to see his open hand reaching across to me, kindness etched into every line of his face.

  "And the truth shall set you free," He whispers softly, as if his words are nothing but an echo on a dead breeze. I accept his offered hand, and he helps me to stand up. He takes my hand and leads me up the stairs, sharing his strength with me through the simple contact. I can feel my own skin and strength, my whole body being repaired through the energy flowing from his body into mine, the whole time as we climb the stairs.

  When we near the top he pulls out his sword from the sheath hanging on his thick belt and whispers "This is only for appearance sake, I cannot allow them to see that I've helped you, or have allowed you to be free, if only for so long." He points the blade into the middle of my back, and pushes me along at dagger point.

  The name-less man continues to push me along like this, the point of his dagger digging deeply into the small of my back just above my tied hands. He doesn't say anything, and I believe it is for the best as we are watched as we walk toward the Queen's throne room. I can see hatred and scorn for an outsider in their eyes, and I refuse to bow my head in shame, my pride giving me the courage to stand tall. However no matter how proud I am, I can still hear their whispers. Lying, deceiving little whispers that play and twists any mind that listens to them. The walk is not a short one - for why would a Queen keep her throne room near a dungeon? - and it seems to take forever to get there but I blame this on the nervousness I feel at seeing her again. I can feel my stomach doing strange things at the thought of seeing her, to the point where I start to feel slightly sick.

  As my captor pushes upon the heavy oak doors, that glints with the jewels of Antadova, my tongue dries up. I'm here, about to enter her throne room once more, about to see the look of scorn and hatred on her face, and despite all that I know she will be as beautiful and young as ever. I've dreamed of this day for so long, dreamed of her welcoming me in with open arms, telling me how much she misses me, and that I cannot ever leave her again, that somehow I am not surprised at her order for her guards to leave, but I am surprised at the slap I receive as a welcoming gesture. My body - still weak from the week and a bit of torture - crumples to the ground at her slap. I turn my head to look up at her as wind rushes through a still air, and I find that she is straddling me, her very own dagger held against my throat. There is a combination of misery, scorn, anguish and loathing deep in her azure-silver cat eyes, that I cannot think of what to say if I had even the slightest ability to speak.

  She doesn't say anything for a long time as she holds my gaze, and I cannot understand why, if I had returned a century ago she would have been yelling, screaming doing everything within her power not to kill me, and trying desperately to prolong my torture but now... now there is nothing, nothing but an icy silence which wounds the soul.

  "Emma," I whisper her name, half-pleading, half-exalting in her presence. She does not make a movement at her name upon my lips, but I breathe in heavily at the smell of her pear and honey shampoo.

  "How dare you come back! After all this time Adrian. How dare you!" She breathes, her breath is chilled, and it makes me shiver, if only slightly, remembering the dagger she still has a hold of at my throat. I am surprised that she uses my given name instead of my chosen one that she still remembers that I loved hearing my real name upon her lips. "I should kill you; it's what you deserve for making me suffer for so long."

  "Emma, if I could have come back I would, but you banished me, made me a felon with in Antadova. You were the one who didn't want me, who made me an undesirable so that I would be forced to never return," I say, my voice is soft, hoping to get through to her if I talk rationally with her. Her eyes are still burning with her anger and she realizes the position that she has me in. Getting off of me, somehow we are still in sync after all this time as she sighs heavily with me.

  "If you knew that you are undesirable in Antadova, then why did you return?" She asks
, her voice is so soft that I almost don't hear her, but getting up to my feet I walk over to her, putting my hands on her small shoulders. Unlike all of the Fae she is not tall, in fact for a Fae she is indubitably short, so short that I could rest my chin upon her head.

  "Because I was ordered to by my King! Victor has declared war upon the Skin-walkers. We need everyone to help us, to fight against them. He knows that I am the only one who would be able to get through to you, that I am the only one of his people that you would listen to, and so knowing what I am here, I accepted the task," I reply, almost whispering the words to her. She walks away from me, her gold hands reaching up to play with her fiery red hair.

  "Emma, please just listen to me," I beg, she refuses to turn around, refuses to look at me again and I know that she will not listen, that she cannot stand the sight of me.

  "No Adrian, I've heard what you have come to say, and I will think about helping Victor. Not because you have asked this of me, but for the benefit of my people, for if our world ever fell into the Skin-walkers hands we would be one of the first Kingdoms to fall, after the Vampires of course," She has turned around while she is speaking, if only to look at me once more before she banishes me again. "You should leave Adrian, while my warriors still listen to my order to leave you alone."

  "Are you banishing me once more Emma?" I ask having to know the answer, she sighs heavily her eyes never leaving from me though the grace that she possesses has left her.

  "No Adrian, I am not banishing you again, but I wouldn't suggest coming back too soon, my people still see you as a felon," She says smiling softly. This is the best news that I have heard in so long, and I quickly stride toward her, embracing her in my arms once more.

  "You won't regret this Em," I say softly, not being able to hold back the grin that is spreading across my face. It must be infectious because soon she is smiling as well.

  "You better hope not Adrian," She says, quietly before reaching up on the top of her toes and softly kisses me, only once but enough to give me hope. I kiss her more fully as I draw her in tightly. I can feel her starting to smile, and I place one more kiss upon her lips before I let her go. I start to walk away from her, trying to hide my smile but I cannot do so to save my life.

  "Oh and Adrian," She calls her smile still firmly in place, her azure-silver eyes shimmering softly. "Fog is waiting out front for you." I blow her a kiss and bow lowly to her, and she laughs softly, the sweet melody continues to ring in my ears as I bound down the stairs and mount Fog. The image of her happy and smiling, the ghosts of her kisses stay long with me even though Antadova and Emma-Leah are far behind me.

  No-one not even Shade - who is within range of the Black Mountains - can hear the pained screams of tortured victims echoing out of it's darkest corners. No-one knows that two nomads lay dead in the Mountains that evening and that one, the only female member of the Cantu coven, is able to escape the terror of a deadly monster no-one could ever describe.

  Chapter 17 – Behind Enemy Lines

  Christian's P.O.V

  The throne room is empty, there is no on-going party from the night before, and there is nobody there except myself. The silence is empowering, relaxing, I feel as if here, alone I can be everything I am without wearing a mask. I have no tricks to perform, no minds to befuddle except my own. How this silence calms my soul, this silence is like balm on an open wound. This silence is bliss. However, things are not truly ever silent, my mind never stops for a moment, and then there are all the dreaming souls, and their whispering voices that bounce around inside of my skull. Though there is no noise, there are always voices, saying one thing or another. I sit here, alone in the dark, silent room, my feet dangling over the side of my throne, a position I always find myself in, staring up at the blank ceiling, trying to imagine the night sky that I know she is looking at.

  I sigh, the air rushing through my lips, puffing before me in a cloud of white, in the chill that has come with the night. The coldness does not affect me, as it may have once done, when I was so much more innocent, if anyone could believe that I was once such. I sigh again, as the thought of her believing that I was once innocent enters into my mind, I banish it as soon as it comes, but I can never erase the fact that it was there completely. She could never believe that I was once innocent, nor worth loving.

  Any chance that I had once had of winning her over, were gone the moment I allowed myself to be the embodiment of a 'Skin-walker'; lusting, carnal, deceitful, possessive. She was never meant to be mine to start with, but it doesn't mean that I still don't want her. Her lips, her skin, her blood. I want to possess all of her, and the only way that I can capture her is with that bloody Vampire gone!

  The anger that burns through my veins forces me from my chair, sending me into a quick pace across the large expanse of my throne room. These thoughts won't ever leave my head, my mind is never silent, and voices whisper and try to use me to their will. I never have a moment of peace. I find myself falling to my knees, my hands pounding against the marble floor, coming away bloody from cuts that I cannot explain. Quiet, all I want is silence, peace! Why is it so difficult to get some silence! From the corner of my eye I see the quick spark of moonlight hitting against glass, and then I can smell it, the sweet intoxicating smell of alcohol. My one escape from all the noise!

  I move with an alarming speed but I hardly seem to notice it, as I make my way across the room to the far corners. There before me is sweet bliss, the remedy of all this noise, the only drug that I crave. I pour the hardest liquor of them all, knowing that if it didn't kill me, it would at least knock me out for a few hours. I hold it up almost in a mockery of a toast, as I look at the crystal clear liquid. I've never drunk pure Unicorn blood before, it was always with something else, the effects of the blood is unknown, it could very well kill, me but I am willing to pay that price, if it only brought me silence.

  "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger," I whisper, breathing the words heavily. I look at it for one more moment before I bring the cold glass to my lips, drinking the liquid is like drinking in air. It's tasteless; it doesn't even feel like it's there! But I can feel myself getting woozier, thirstier. The first glass isn't enough, I need more, I have to drink until I pass out, upon the cold, hard marble floor. I need to go to the very place inside of my mind where there is no noise, where all is silent. Let the world around me burn and fall, to hell with them all! Death is the price I must pay, Silence is the one thing I long for, more than her anyways.

  The sweet intoxication is bliss; all is silent as I watch the world burn around me. I feel nothing, no pain, no sorrow, no love. My heart, my mind, my body and soul seem to have stopped functioning. I see angels fall from the heavens, and demons crawl out of hell. Intoxication, sweet bliss, the calming balm on my tortured soul. The demons feed on the angels, their blood, and their flesh. It is all food, a welcoming feast for the demons and I sit there, and wait for them to eat off of me too, I wait for my skin to be ripped apart, to burn and wriggle and crawl as if I was going through the change, I wait for my blood to pour freely but it never comes, all I do is sit and wait and watch. Hell, I don't even know what I'm watching, is it just the thoughts of a mad-man who’s given into the intoxication of a drink, or am I watching the past, or worse yet the future?

  I don't know when I pass out, but the effects of the crystal clear blood, change from torturous, insane imagery into a soft peaceful place. I know it well, the no-man lands before the shore-line. A place I had visited recently, not only in my mind but in person as well. She's there too and so is a small boy, with blue eyes and blond hair, whose smile is infectious. I want to pick the boy up in my arms, and hold him close. I want to kiss her on her red lips. The desire to possess them both is no-where to be found within me. Perhaps this is what it could have been like, if I was some-one else.

  When the boy sees me he cries out for his father, and I am instantly afraid that I've already terrified him by simply being here, then she turns around and the
re is joy and love in her eyes and I melt at the core.

  "Anna," I whisper, her name is like a prayer on my lips. I wish to take her in my arms, to kiss her, to love her but I cannot do that in front of the boy.

  "Hello Love, where have you been? We have been waiting for you," She says to me and then kneels besides the little boy again - who cannot be more than five years old - and says to him "Go and say hello to your Papa, Chino." Chino, my son, turns around and runs to me throwing his little arms around my waist. I look to Anna, and she nods her head in allowance, as if giving me permission to hug my son in return.

  "Hello Papa, I've missed you. Will you come and play with me and Mama?" I nod my head at my son, unable to speak. I look back up at Anna, and I see the answer of whether this could be as real as it feels. Her loving eyes hold no deceit, and I know that this must be real.

  I spend time with Anna and Chino, enjoying the sweet bliss of having a family with Anna. It feels unreal to explore in the sensations of the dying, and I know I'm dying to have dreamed up something so innocent and sweet.