Traitor to the King: A Tale of the Benaga Sisters

by Clare SM Keating

  “I know you…”

  In that moment the guard fizzed away into the lengths of golden tentacle and the monster gave a guttural hiss before slipping back into the darkness. It was watched curiously by the shaded figure that merely shook his head gently. He looked toward the stains of burnt stone upon the ground with a soft growl of irritation. There would be a curious attempt to answer this situation and if the possibility of infiltration was not mentioned, then the figure knew that there were indeed problems within the hierarchy. But, for having lured his ugly companion thus far with the shield from the stone wavering and barely pulling at the squishy exoskeleton from this monster, the figure knew things were not as safe as it used to be. With a vicious chuckle the figure turned back toward the monster and breathed a soft sigh.

  “So, the king is weakened… otherwise you’d have been blown into little splats the moment you stepped into the tunnel my slimy friend. Now… return to the shadows of the forest and wait for me to call you again, in the meantime send out a message to the others. It’s time to give our plan a little test.”

  The next morning had no mention of a missing guard or a dangerous creature, the bad atmosphere had been pushed aside and everything had returned to a complacent normality. Hope for the evening’s party was brought to the fore and the nobles were encouraging it, ignoring the concern amongst the guards and the Royal Core for a missing figure. Unconscious to this Damara and Karani went to attend their usual lessons within the academy and amongst them was a lesson in magic use for ‘mundane’ practices that could be essential in the future.

  Within the underground academy on the second level with a winding stair separating it from the third level market place, there were several nonchalant chambers where desk and bench had been carved from the stone itself. Within each cool room the students of various ages learnt the fundamentals of life with magic and what was expected of them. Each degree of ability was separated out and in any class there could be a mix of noble and peasant; it was the most equal period in life for the teens and vital to develop their sense of unity.

  This morning had the higher level and eldest class with Head of the Academy, Lord Lutas in a lecture on ‘Domiciliary Magic Use’. This was the standard manipulation of magic for purposes outside of defence and was covered constantly. The higher the level, the harder it was to produce something simplistic and as power was increased only by the power of the being that created it, constant practice was essential to maintain control. So, for Karani and Damara learning how much energy to use to produce a lone scouting ball of light was like an elephant learning how not to indent the ground with each step… next to impossible!

  “Class we are not seeking an orb that will explode on contact with the enemy or maintain a mental link, this is just a simple device to check around a corner.” Their teacher stated with a gentle smile upon his soft sandy coloured face as he brushed his lush dark red locks from his face with a chuckle. For many of the young girls it was distracting, and the myriad of coloured orbs pulsated and throbbed with the lapse. But with a gentle sigh their teacher continued. “Remember too that in a battle situation our minds are often in two places… learning to do something so easy when you’re at an elevated level can end up being vital for escape on the battlefield and how much energy you can maintain in your body. Very good Karani, but we only need one of these orbs…”

  Karani, as usual, was having a lot of fun with this task as would any mage using light abilities. Not only had she produced the light orb with a gentle notion of twisting the air then she’d produced five and was sending them back and forth with little effort. She would have been gloating over the matter if the master had not just reminded her of the request for just one item. Trying to tailor your magic to a lower level was difficult; frustration was easy but in a society where you were lucky to have magic but could never use it in vain matters, such control was important. Those members of the community that could not control their magic ability were encouraged to wear special bands on their wrists made of some living force that swallowed up the magic in their blood and these people were forced to live in the foreign sector.

  “This is so irritating Damara! I can’t just flick a hand for it to appear like our teacher… it’s like trying not to tread on a blade of grass!” She grimaced as she breathed out for the orbs to disappear. Although stopping magic actions was the result of thought alone, producing at a less experienced but prominent level could be dangerous, like giving a sword to a hyper little boy – one unconscious swing and someone could be dead! But beside her Karani could see that Damara was really struggling as her face grimaced and she kept dropping her hands out of fear. Karani breathed a soft sigh before patting her friend’s shoulder and smiling widely. “You can do it Damara… try doing it the way Lutas does… draw a light ball in the air with your finger then fill it.”

  “Okay, I think that’ll be safer then turning one out of the air.” Damara wheezed in relief. She could only imagine herself turning and forcing a giant ball of flame to vomit onto the other students! But, relaxing her body and watching the air Damara imagined a small glowing sphere and traced its outline cautiously with a long finger before opening her hand to make the orb glow! To her great surprise a thin glass-like circle had appeared and with a curious lavender haze, it suddenly began swirling in the air ahead of her and Damara froze. She trembled in fear as she felt something like a thousand such objects desperately bashing at her mind to appear, which she did not want to create. All eyes were suddenly upon her with excitement as she closed her eyes, lifted the ball and let it float towards the end of the chamber.

  The object was vibrating at an audible level and everything about it was pulsating with her anxiety. The excited students soon began to screw their faces up with concern as the object started to grow. Damara could feel the other orbs pushing past her fingers and stuffing themselves into the floating one to make it swell, but if she focused too much on stopping them then… what would happen to the orb? The swollen balloon like object now bumped itself fluidly against the natural sharp spears of the roof stalactites, the surface rippling as it moulded around such hanging dangers. Karani grimaced and began to sink beneath the stone desk in preparation, followed by the rest of the students. Even Lord Lutas looked ready to dive aside and the moment Damara realised they were all worried, she dropped her hand. However, she dropped before she had stopped thinking about it and with a resounding snap the great object exploded into a puddle of freezing water! It turned to ice the moment it connected with stone and Lutas was only able to save himself by lifting a hand for his electric lightning powers to slice through the spray and heat it enough for him and Damara to simply become soaked.

  The room exploded with laughter as Damara stared, dumbfounded, towards the doorway where the object had been floating. Lord Lutas gave a chuckle before slowly grabbing his white shirt and peeling it from his clingy body; the laughter dissipated as the young ladies were introduced to the neat, slim, physique of the elf as he switched into a spare sitting under his desk. Cheeks were flushed with surprise and then fuming rage as Lutas stepped to Damara and helpfully dried the water off her face with his removed shirt. Karani squinted in surprise at the action, which was as bad as asking Damara to go courting with their tutor!

  “Don’t take it to heart Damara, you’re not the first to do that or I would not have kept a spare about. But you showed real restraint not to just let several orbs show and that’s fantastic… it means you have all the possibility of becoming a teacher yourself. Now… shall we all try it one more time?” As Damara almost sank out of sight she could hear the whispers and insults from other noble women behind her. When she’d first been engaged she never experienced such jealousy but without a partner she was subject to the petty misgivings of the more social young nobles who would now loose good partner options because of her availability!

  In fact, it was such availability that intrigued Karani over their teacher’s bold show of care just now. She knew very well
that every young woman found Lutas’ charm and looks attractive and his position was the most secure and risk free. But, there had never been a pairing between the Benaga and Lutas household before and according to Anouk there never would be. Damara even considered that and with the current issue revolving around the party tonight, she wondered if Lord Lutas was starting to show his interest. There would be many, old and young, who would flirt with Damara tonight, but she tried not to think about it. Instead she returned to her thoughts on the orbs before Karani gave a soft snigger.

  “I just realised that tonight we’ll see your sister forced to dance! Knowing her she’ll stick to doing so with the married men so none of them can ask her to marry them… not that any of the actual lords want to marry her. I mean… the only bachelor she ever dances with is Yeruell and that’s only because…. Actually, why is that?” Karani muttered with a snort of amusement and Damara grinned. The question pulled her out of her embarrassment long enough to grin eagerly over the thought of Anouk suppressing her rage as another drunk male stomped on her big flat feet! After-all, when they were hosting Anouk was not allowed to make her excuses to escape and had to deal with all of it.

  “Yeruell? Oh well that’s because they were sweethearts as kids and I think he’s still in love with the memory of her… though there is no way she’s in love with him or ever really was…” Damara smiled and then breathed a soft sigh. She could understand if Yeruell was, after-all she had known Jarl since they were infants and always been his best friend. She had never known other friends then Talon and Karani, so when Jarl had left she’d felt helpless and lost. She’d felt even more pathetic when he’d arrived with his new intended and Damara’s reality had been cracked. She’d dared to feel love for him, assumed his feelings were equal and then….

  Bang!

  Another orb exploded above Damara’s head and this time she was coated in soil! Her face was a grimace but Karani looked genuinely shocked as she realised that it had been caused by jealous girls. With a groan Damara raised her hand to be permitted to go change her head scarf and was given a nod. It was not customary to wear the scarves in the academy building, but with situations like this Damara was grateful. However, her hopes of this evening’s events were cooled to a gentle frustration that she would now have to stop Anouk skinning her new bullies alive when they were introduced at the party.

  When the lesson was over the group of fourteen students had just about managed the seemingly simple task. Nearly everyone had been coated in something, but showers had been permitted before the students were ushered towards two hours of Weapons Meditation. In that lesson Tyfuga gave them each a weapon of some description to sit with and mentally attempt to commune with… the weapon that responded would prove the weapon of choice for future training. For Damara it was obvious she would be bound to a sword, but before she was able to leave, Lord Lutas held her back for a conversation.

  He encouraged her to sit at one of the desks before gently persuading her to produce the orb again. Nervously Damara gulped but could not question him and tentatively did as she was requested with a grimace upon her face. Once more a fluid orb appeared, and she encouraged it to do a circuit of the room before it disappeared. Damara was shocked to see herself complete the task and almost gave a whimper of delight over the matter. But Lutas just nodded his head slowly in understanding and produced one of his sweet smiles.

  “You’re just like your father… too self-conscious in public to reveal his true potential. Don’t let them get to you Damara; you’re special and very talented. Don’t think you have to live up to Anouk’s standards because it’s clear that’s the path of an abnormal.” He stated proudly but his choice of phrasing seemed too aggressive and Damara motioned to speak. However, she was a woman and he was the teacher, she had no right to argue his praise and ‘abnormal’ was considered a perfectly natural and healthy term. Yet he noticed the expression and breathed a soft sigh before tentatively stroking Damara’s back. “It’s that dreaded demonic influence. Not only did it unravel her senses as they do but her power was cut in half. Your sister set ridiculously ambitious standards for herself to cope with this fouling and it weakened her to the susceptibility of foreign articles. Never put your ambitions on so high a shelf you can never reach them… you’d only get hurt in the attempt.”

  “If Anouk was so powerful before how did the demon get her?” Damara blurted, only to smother her mouth. She was forgetting to question respectfully let alone to lower her head and her cheeks flushed. She remained curiously oblivious to the sensation of a hand upon her back as she modified her posture to humble dejection and rephrased her question. “Lord Lutas, you knew my sister at that time and understood her mind, why do you think it happened?”

  “An easy question… Anouk claimed the demon was going to return one of the stones when it was the right time for its assistance. Back then Anouk was still suffering from your grandfather’s death, she wanted to make it safer so no one else had to die and thought this was the right way. The demon saw this weakness and used it, then it stole her powers, and some say a piece of her heart too…” Lord Lutas sighed as he placed both hands on Damara’s shoulders, comforting her as he spoke kindly. “Your sister was never normal… but when your grandfather died she lost the only person who was protecting her from your uncle’s ruthless training. He taught me for a while until my father rescued me from the abuse… your sister only wanted to help the kingdom but in doing so she only made things worse.”

  “Then how do you feel about the Karayan?” Damara stated, suddenly feeling a need to question his thought now the being was here. She accepted his view and understanding, the whip marks upon his arm had been proof of her uncle’s tyranny, much like those on Anouk’s body. Even if they both could not trust each other anymore, Damara believed that her master was honest and would encourage good will to her new friend as he had done so all other beings to join the kingdom.

  “He is a menace yet to reveal his true colours.” The words cut quickly into Damara’s mind and for a second she felt her body vibrate in warning. Something was very wrong in that statement, very wrong and abnormal for Lutas. Though she left him then to head onto her meditation Damara’s mind was swimming with a new sense of dread. She knew in her heart that the Karayan was gentle and truthful, she’d become a firm friend to him as had Talon and Karani… but everyone feared him. The Royal Core were too scared to misbehave and that alone was a good enough reason to appreciate the strange figure. But hate was a strange thing in their culture and perfectly allowed for anyone who was not a Deep Elf.

  The evening was coming in far too close for Anouk to bear as she growled over her collection of dresses for the party. With everything almost set up and the musicians due to arrive within the hour, not to mention extra servants, the Benaga Lord needed to dress up for the occasion, for the sake of her bloodline. The Lady’s job was to sort out such things but playing the role of both Lord and Lady was more than Anouk wanted to handle and she sat naked in the room staring at a collection of dresses bought for her years ago by her mother… which somehow still fit her stocky body. There was no chance she was going to wear one and thank her mother for it, but if she wore anything masculine she’d be shaming everyone.

  “Ling! Please can you give me a hand here?” Anouk called out with a growl; as she only had the one female friend present there was not going to be much discussion on the choices. When she called out there was a sudden sound of empty bottles being dropped and with a grunt the door was opened, and the limber figure lunged into the room. With her hands suddenly to the blades attached to her hip, Ling looked prepared for danger before she noticed that Anouk was sitting naked upon her bed with a grimace. Suddenly Ling looked a little fearful and lifted her hands up for mercy.

  “I can’t and I won’t…” Ling began before Anouk cast a towel at her to keep quiet.

  “I did not ask for that… I need help choosing some clothes.” Anouk groaned gently as she then strolled toward a hanging bag o
f fresh clothing and removed her underwear. Ling pushed herself into the pile of dresses and began to skim through for something relatively safe. As much as Anouk would prefer to be wrapped up head-to-toe in dark cloth so no one could see anything of her, that would be highly inappropriate within the Virenheim Party society and Ling chuckled. She found something of a jade green colour that was long enough to go to the ankles, had long sleeves but just about showed some cleavage. It was the only thing that would do the job and Ling gave a chuckle as she pulled it out with a grimace.

  “This’ll do it… put some gemstone necklace on and you should be fine. Shame you can’t wear a mask or a veil…” Ling snorted, grinning as she pulled open a small stone box and riffled through the jewellery. The natural hunger for money maintained by the Blood Elf species encouraged her to be a little crazy at times when jewellery was present and slowly she began to slip on a bracelet made of shells, something incredibly rare in the north! However, the moment she put it on she noticed the flash of aggression in Anouk’s eyes as she managed to pull the long, sleek grey-green article upon herself. With a crooked grin Ling removed the item and passed it over to her with a chortle. “You look good… this will really make you look fancy. After-all nothing says rich like shells!”

  Anouk’s hands closed around the soft white scallop shells, rubbing their almost chalky forms to remember when they had been given to her. In truth, they were the last thing she had to remember her grandmother, a Deep Elf who had runaway to the coast and then come back to be married to her grandfather. She had been a very beautiful woman with deep purple hair, dark grey skin and glittering blue eyes that had died of a terrible illness common amongst the elderly. She had been a curious figure to Anouk’s childhood, a mystery in truth, but in placing the item upon her wrist, she chuckled and patted Ling’s shoulder. Her friend could see she’d been thinking of something important because of it, but then she noticed that Anouk’s hair was looking a little too frazzled.