A War of Silver and Gold

by Minerva J. Kaelin

  The dark bird flew towards Astrid before it landed softly with its glittering talons onto the female’s shoulder. Astrid flashed a smirk at Arslan and petted the crow’s spine softly.

  “You see, little Arsly, you must be careful around me.” Astrid twisted her head to the side and glanced at him, at both of them with red, crimson eyes. “Now, tell me what you know.”

  19

  Cassia pulled from the bed, not at all caring if Ael woke up or not, and slammed the door of the bedchamber shut. She fisted the leather handle of her sword, her eyes posing a dead glare, full of her legendary, flameful antipathy and contempt. They must have looked dark, darker than usual because of a few maids, she crossed in a corner, winced and flinched as she glared towards them. The vicious tapping of her heeled boots against the marble floor and the vigorous slapping of her long, black cloak did nothing to don her aura of a Court Lady.

  She was a War Lady, born from flames and blood and gore.

  The tall arches of the windows around her in the broad, aerial hallway, with stones and runes carved on their frames, leading to the King’s personal study, only fuelled her vexation further. He had snapped her out of her sleep, out of Ael’s arms, to command her in his study. The audacity of that elf and the way he used it, merely ridiculed every ounce of self-restraint she possessed.

  She halted before the door of the study, inhaled the fumes of cabal plotting emitting from inside and shook her head. She knocked ferociously onto the wooden door. A green light flashed inside the study and the door opened with a squeak. She took angry steps inside the chamber, before bumping into someone.

  He wore a dark velvety cloak with silver linings across the hem, concealing him from her sight. Definitely a Lord from Court. His white, blond hair peeking from underneath the heavy cloth, an emerald hung from around his neck in a silver, pendant crafted into whorls and twists of various shapes around the gem.

  She took a step backwards. She hissed; her canines in plain sight as she narrowed her eyes on the stranger. “Watch your step, filth.”

  The stranger, with a huff, pushed past her and exited the study. She remained and listened to his footsteps until their echoes faded in the back before she waved her hand and the door pressed shut behind her.

  She turned and looked at the King-

  The loud smacking of his hand against her cheek pulsated through the stagnant air of the room. Her head thrown to the side. She hadn’t anticipated that. She did wait for some remarks and barking, but never a slap in the face.

  Her skin stung and burned, and a red imprint of his palm marred her cheek, but she paid it no heed. He’d given her worse blows. She straightened before him and swallowed hard.

  “My King-”

  “If you ever,” he pulled his hand up and pointed at her. “Ever ridicule me with that way in front of the council again; I will whip you so much your skin will crawl from your bones.”

  She bolted upright, her head nodding in its own accord. She mentally winced at the reminder of the last time he had to whip her. Thirty, vicious, bloodlust whips on the skin of her back. He had sneered at her with a way that gave away how much he enjoyed ripping, piece by piece, his beloved granddaughter.

  The red, hot mark on her cheek bit angrily on her soul, ushering her to reprimand –no- unsheathe her sword and graze his neck oh-so-slightly. She locked the chains around the bloodlust monster inside her and stood her ground as proudly as she could, standing before the King. His scrutinizing gaze swept over her, trying to slide through her mental shields, but he could barely make it to the other side without wincing.

  “You brought a lycan to my Citadel.”

  She shifted from foot to foot, uneasiness pouring over her. “I trust him.”

  He tsked loudly with his tongue, his brow rising in surprise and his eyes hollow. “What have I told you about trust?” He approached her, his eyes glancing down at her like a predator to his prey; hungry and lusting for her blood and taste of her flesh. “I trusted your father and look where it got me.”

  Her anger threatened to burst and damn them both to Hell and back again. She couldn’t live like this, not anymore. She couldn’t live with his insults, telling her she was a failure, a failure and a mistake his oh-so-wonderful son had committed because ‘some human harlot dared throw herself at him.’

  She knew; everything the King did was to provoke her anger and hatred towards him, give him a reason to kill her before the crowd, the people that loved her more than him. The barking of curses and swears inside her head throbbed deliciously, but she could do nothing to calm the flames, but coat them in more oil.

  “I am sorry.”

  His left eyebrow rose in mock before he barked at her. “As you should be.” He pulled away from her and retreated behind his desk; he sat on the armchair and rubbed his hands before him. “That, however, is not the reason you are here.” He narrowed his eyes at her. She struggled to keep as unmoving as she could. “Do you remember Feremony?”

  Her breath hitched, but she merely nodded, not wanting to show weakness.

  “A foul place, reeking of Adanei.” He shook his head in approval of his own words before he continued. “You are right, though. I sent those soldiers in the borders. It is time for us to take their lands, snatch them under their petulant noses.”

  She feigned a nod and a snarl. “I agree.”

  “But I need a spy; one that I know would never betray me.” There was a silence between them for a moment and when she didn’t reply; he tapped his fingers on his desk and huffed. “Would you go there?”

  Feremony...

  It was a place she didn’t want to be, not when the embers of her hatred burned so loudly and clearly that blinded her judgement. And now he wanted her to go there as his spy. Playing with the King was like playing with fire, and she didn’t want to burn.

  “What would you have me do there?” A snarl formed over her lips to match his.

  “I would have to sacrifice your court, give it freely to those beasts in order for them to trust you.” He growled at the papers before him. “I want you to talk with them, befriend them in your own vicious way, destroy their courts, incriminate their secrets and peel every ounce of their dignity from their bones. You will become the mistress of one of them, the strongest one. You will persuade them to make you a Lady among their ranks, your city and towns will have to remain under your command.” He snarled viciously. “I believe you will satisfy me, it is in your nature to satisfy those above you.”

  She gulped silently in the depths of her throat. Bile rose in her mouth, but She swallowed hard and kept her face unmoving. The King had presented her with a plan better than her own, a plan that She could use against him with such efficiency and skill. The warm, beautiful flames of revenge lapped against the coasts of her soul and satisfied the monster within her.

  She smiled at the King and bowed his head accepting his offer while plotting his downfall.

  “Tell me, daughter,” he said, his eyes narrowing on a paper before him. “What do you know of the Swords of Leondir?”

  Cassia’s back stiffened. She must have heard that legend, once or twice in her youth, hundreds of years ago. She clenched her jaw and watched the King with imminent concentration. She wetted her lips as she recited the legend, “Three will come, but do not go, stay till it lasts and see the forging of the one.” He nodded his confirmation to continue with that childish night story. “The three Swords of the Gods, scattered throughout Aethos after the first War for the Dark Elves to never find. When one possesses the three of them together...” Cassia trailed and shook her head. “When this happens the swords mould into one and the world will then be pieced back together. The Great Slit-Through-the-Ground separating the world of Gods and the species will mend itself. Infinite power, my Lord.” Cassia shook her head again. “Infinite.”

  “Exactly,” he smirked, Cassia’s stomach unsettling. “The one is in Adanei possession, somewhere in their lands. Find it for me, find it and your vaults wi
ll be full of gold and your name will shine beside mine.”

  “But, my Lord,” Cassia took a step forward, her hand close to her own sword. “It is but a legend, a bed time story for children.”

  “Oh, my fiery daughter, it is not. You will do as I tell you and you will bring the sword to me and then the next and the next. We can conquer the world, Aethos and then,” he paused and raised his head, his eyes gleaming with malice, madness and something so dark that made Cassia’s hairs stand on edge. “Then we march into new worlds, into the Seven Realms beyond our own.”

  “My Lord,”

  “Do this for your beloved King, for me, for your only family. For us. Avenge the treachery of your father.” The King stood from his chair and planted his fists firmly onto the desk, the wood groaning underneath. “For us.”

  Madness, it was utter and complete madness, but whatever it was. Whatever it would come out of it, Cassia would give her life and her heritage and her blood to hide the swords from the King, to bind them with blood, magic and love away from him.

  She nodded to the King; placing her right fist above her heart, she bowed her head.

  It was madness, but she would find the first sword and hide it better than the Gods and their forsaken scions. Anything to save the world from facing that crimson, gleaming glance of the King. She would go there, posing as the King’s spy, but she would ally with her immortal enemies for the greater good. For a chance in freedom.

  20

  They left the Citadel in a hurry.

  Once she had woken up the next day, Cassia had dressed and gathered her belongings. She had barked at Ael too much and afterwards she couldn’t do anything to pull the glance of despair from his face no matter how much she wanted. Her trust was his for the taking, but her heart... She had built walls upon walls of steel and iron and silver around it, it was untouchable and unreachable.

  It hurt her, it wounded her to see him like this, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t do anything. She was there to bring balance, not throw everything away in a moment of passion.

  She sighed if she was any other court lady she would have been married already. Her blood at least secured her a clear future and a possibility to make wrong things right.

  She was fortunate she hadn’t been born to a dying fairy or a dwarfish female. She was fortunate because she knew, no matter how hard she tried and fought to gain her worth back, her mental worth at least. It was hard for her to understand, even though she had killed and taken lives, even though she had been wounded, demolished and resurrected, she was lucky because she had royal, ancient blood running through her veins.

  She gripped her horse reins firmer on her palms and glanced forward. The mist of the forest, her forest, surrounded them and relief flooded.

  Ael followed her horse without questioning. She hoped he had grown too weary of defying her, of trying to play with her mood swings. She only hoped. She straightened her spine as she rode the horse and looked ahead at the clean passage.

  “What happened in the council?” Ael asked finally, probably voicing his much-needed requirement to know of her whereabouts.

  She shook her head. “These woods have ears of their own and affiliations which I know nothing about. Don’t delude yourself that I will tell you about what occurred in the council.”

  “Never?”

  “You will find out soon enough.”

  “Is it war?”

  His bluntness on the subject made her cringe and she stopped the horse in the passage. “What can you not understand about what I told you?”

  He shook his head and pulled his horse beside hers. “I care for you, Cassia not in an innocent way, but I do and I know you shall never be mine because I am a worthless elf.” He inhaled sharply and she felt her own breath leaving her lungs. “I want to be your friend, at least, please.”

  She turned her glance at him. His eyes were glassy, he turned away from her with the saddest expression she had seen a male sporting. She growled deep in her throat and bit her bottom lip between her teeth.

  “You are my friend, Ael. You are and I know it might look strange, but...” She paused and inhaled a strong breath, trying to fight away those foolish tears that had suddenly begun to threaten her eyes. “I am sorry for what I did that day in the city. I hurt you without remorse back then, because I-”

  “You were protecting your city.”

  “No, you wouldn’t have been saying these things if you were dead in the grave.”

  “But I am not, now, am I?”

  His quirked an eyebrow and smiled.

  “You are not, thank the Nature.” She shook her head. “We have a long way ahead of us.”

  He nodded and they delved deeper into the forest with lighter spirits and higher expectations.

  + + +

  She tossed and turned that night again. She doubted there was a night when she didn’t. She threw her blanket away and sat up on the grass. Cassia knew that she was safe, but sweating and shivering was a reflex of her body in such situations, a bad habit acquired in the years of the war.

  She could have done only so much to remain calm. She pulled up on her legs and straightened. Her hand felt for her forehead and wiped the sweat gathering there with her sleeve. She was a mess of too many bad memories and ill beliefs moulded in a way that could only prove catastrophic.

  She pulled closer to the stream running by the trunk of the Hollow.

  She knelt on the grass and splashed water on her face. She grunted and bent forward, her hair fell around her face covering her sweating skin and clinging to it for dear life. She was a bundle of bouncing nerves and hurtful feelings.

  She closed her eyes as she felt Ael’s presence behind her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. She needed, craved someone’s welcoming embrace, but she was too proud to even acknowledge it. She was used to being self-sufficient; she relied on herself alone and never in the strength of others.

  “It was just a dream, Sia.” His soothing voice reached her ears and made her shiver, not because of her dreams but because of his words, because he had understood the cause of her pain.

  “I know.” She managed to say before she bolted up and glanced about the Hollow. “I know, but it seems that I am unable to save you every time.”

  “What?”

  His words hit her like an arrow to the heart. She hadn’t told him she dreamed about him every night. That she dreamed of his slashed flesh and torn body lying, lifeless underneath the throne of the King in the Citadel.

  She scolded herself for speaking without thinking. “The King kills you every time and I am only there watching and doing nothing at all to save you. I am just...” She trailed and shook her head. “I am just stunned for some reason.”

  She felt him twitch beside her. She knew he wanted to reach out to her and embrace her, tell her he was still here, tell her that she was there with him, safe, cocooned into the bark of the Hollow that would only open to the enemy if it was burnt down.

  She exhaled soundly and turned away from him. “You should try to sleep, I will stay awake.”

  “I will stay with you then.”

  She turned quickly, placing a hand against his chest, stopping him from making a step closer to her. “No, sleep, after all, you’ll need it.”

  “And you won’t?”

  “I...” She stuttered and shook her head. “I... I don’t think so.”

  He smiled, warningly. “You will, no matter how mighty and powerful the Heir is, Sia is weary and needs rest.”

  “I am fine.”

  “You will sleep beside me, Sia.”

  “I am not some sort of dog for you to command, you know.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Oh! Sia, don’t begin with this again.” He shook his head. “I am not commanding you, or trying to control you.” He chuckled and pulled away from her, visually hurt.

  She moved forward and leant against his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist and closing her eyes.

  He must have been stunne
d because it required a minute and a skipping of the heart to enclose her in his embrace. She inhaled his scent of citrus and kept her mind as cleared as she could. His warmth was soothing and the presence of his body pressed against hers made her forget.

  She bit her bottom lips between her teeth and exhaled soundly, nuzzling and sighing. They were two very different beings struggling to attain from an avid attraction that had sprung to life without any of them noticing.

  She pulled away from him and grasped his hand between hers. A feverish sentiment crossed her. She pulled him towards the sprawled blankets as she lay there, motioning him to come beside her and embrace her. She knew she was being careless, but she couldn’t help herself, she was as weak as a teenage elf. Once he was lying on the blankets, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to him.

  “You will take me to Argoth tomorrow.”

  He tensed, his breathing hitched. The owls singing their mighty song through the woods, like a caress over their heated skin. The old tree hummed in appreciation of her words and the springs around the forest whispered stories of old and songs that should have been forgotten, long before these lands passed over to the Dark Elves.

  “Alright.”

  The heavens over their heads shone with stars far brighter, the few white clouds flew with the currents of the winds, rendering the terrifying land into a piece of soil full of mysteries that only she could call her own. Her home. Her city. Bound to her with oaths of blood and war and battlefield and the lives and souls of her soldiers.

  She nuzzled against him and shivered slightly. “Thank you”

  “What for?”

  “I know you care about me, but it is hard for me to accept someone feels something for the old, cold arse of mine.”