The Lost & Cursed

by Rina S Mamoon

  Master Harold approached her. “I see you’ve chosen that garb to wear.”

  Mara glanced down at her attire before looking at him. “What’s wrong with it?”

  “Oh, nothing… I think it suits you quite well,” he said. “Saskia was never fond of the garb and thought it was too formal. She had it repurposed for monster hunting and combat.”

  The two watched as the guests arrived.

  “Do you know any of these people?” Harold asked.

  Mara shook her head. “No, I’ve never seen them before.”

  Harold explained some of them to her. “After the old kingdom fell, Ardana was split into two primary regions—Hema in the North and Terra in the South. Lady Isabella is Hema’s current ruler. Davis is Terra’s chancellor.”

  Mara saw Chancellor Davis—a regular middle-age man in a dark formal suit. He possessed greying hair and pale blue eyes. His thin face was partially hidden by a full beard and moustache. The wrinkles appeared to be caused by the stress of governing over Terra. His nose was a little wide.

  Gazing at Lady Isabella, she couldn’t look away. The ruler of Hema wore an ivory and dark purple dress made of expensive looking silk and velvet. Amethyst gems and pearls were sewn into it. White pearls and silver adorned her long neck. Even her silver crown had matching adornments. Appearing elegant, her attire perfectly matched her role as queen. Hema’s ruler had an hourglass figure, pale skin, long blonde hair, and thin eyebrows. Her thin face had a narrow nose, thin lips, and a sharp jawline. Her cheeks were sunken, making her cheekbones more pronounced. Under further inspection Mara noticed the blood red eyes and fangs.

  “What is she?” Mara gawked at the strange woman.

  “Lady Isabella is an eighteen hundred year old vampire,” Harold revealed. “She’s been Hema’s ruler for the past one thousand years.”

  Mara gaped at her. A real live vampire. She never recalled seeing one before, but the bestiary confirmed their existence. While looking on, three people approached Harold and Mara.

  The first was a veiled woman in a white gown. Gold and jewels adorned her dress. She was concealed from head to toe. White gloves covered her arms. Her face was obscured by a white gauzy cloth.

  The second was an old man who appeared to be in his sixties. His clean dark suit indicated his origins from high society. He had pure white hair, and a matching moustache and beard. His eyes were bright blue. He was a very plump and short man with a round face and large nose. Despite his wrinkles, he appeared to be doing very well for himself and lived a comfortable life.

  The third was a handsome young man. Appearing in his late twenties, he looked very fit and strong. His brown hair was semi long in the front and short in the back, and had nary a strand of grey. It was parted on the left side with much of it combed to the right. The fairly narrow chin was graced with some stubble, as well as a small tuft of hair under his bottom lip. His eyebrows were thin—he took care in his grooming. His pale skin was flawless and his vibrant green eyes demanded attention. The face was a little on the thin side, though he wasn’t starving. His nose was fairly thin and its length about two-thirds of an index finger. The upper lip was thin compared to the bottom.

  He wore a dark grey overcoat reaching down to his feet with gold engravings on the collar and coat tails. The left shoulder was adorned in shiny gold plates. On the right sat a brown leather shoulder pad holding a red cape. The cape was two pieces of fabric, one shorter than the other and covering only the right side. He wore a white shirt underneath and a pale blue scarf as a neck guard. A gold chain held the neck guard together, attached to a red ruby pendant. He wore white pants with brown leather armour and matching knee-high boots. Golden plates covered his knees. He stood proud, holding his hands behind his back.

  Out of the three, the young man held Mara’s attention. He looked like a prince from a fairy tale. She could feel her face grow warmer the longer she gazed at him. The young man did his best to ignore her. He was aware of her attention and grew more sour.

  Master Harold looked at them, speechless at first. Then he bowed in respect. “High Priestess Alena,” he addressed the veiled woman. “I don’t believe we sent an envoy to Kallikratés.”

  Hearing his comment, Mara wondered if Harold wasn’t too fond of these people. The young man walked up to him, still ignoring her.

  “We were meeting with Chancellor Davis when the envoy arrived. We heard what happened,” he said in a formal tone. His voice wasn’t too deep, but remained masculine. The young man appeared perfect, but this was too good to be true. What was the catch? While watching him, she began to notice a faint smell of alcohol.

  “Yes, Commander White,” Master Harold addressed the young man. “This is very dire.”

  “And you should have told us,” Commander White responded, frowning at the old master. He looked at Mara. “Who is she?”

  The three turned their attention to Mara. She took immediate notice of their stares. The old man watched her with curiosity while Commander White gave a harsh look. Mara was unable to see her eyes, but could feel the strict gaze from the veiled woman.

  She looked at Commander White and spotted a well-crafted sword in his possession. Half the grip was black. The other half was deep red, wrapped in thin strips of gold crossing over each other. The pommel was made with gold and topped with a ruby gemstone. The gold and silver cross-guard was curved towards the blade. The guard was also adorned with a ruby gem. The black sheathe was also decorated in gold and rubies. The sword looked very stunning, there was no way it could’ve been forged by a mere blacksmith.

  Her gawking grabbed the attention of its owner. She glanced up and got caught by his scowl. Commander White gazed at her from head to toe and grimaced. His critical stare made her feel uncomfortable.

  “She is Mara,” Harold explained. “She came to us with the news of Saskia’s death.”

  The commander gazed at Harold. “Is that so?” He looked back at Mara. “I heard Saskia was murdered.”

  She wanted to reply, but her words were stuck in her throat.

  “Yes, she was,” Harold began, gesturing to Mara. “And she was caught up in all of this.”

  He nodded to her. Mara pulled down her mask to show her undead visage. The commander’s face twisted in disgust. The old man looked horrified, but showed pity. The priestess had no reaction and was unmoved by Mara’s plight. Mara saw their reactions and pulled her mask back up. She had shown enough already.

  Master Harold looked back at the three. “She risked everything to come here. Even crossing paths with a snow beast. If we hadn’t found her, then this meeting wouldn’t have happened.”

  Alena remained quiet. She kept her gaze on Mara for a while before walking away. The two accompanying the priestess followed suit.

  “Please take your seats,” Master Harold announced. “The sooner everyone is seated, the sooner we can get to the pressing matters at hand.”

  Mara and the others took their seats. Even the uninvited guests made themselves comfortable. The others watched the three, some expressing disappointment to seeing them. The three seemed aware they were unwanted, but didn’t care. Mara gazed back at Master Harold, watching him sigh. He rose to his feet.

  “Thank you for coming,” Harold began. “It is with sadness and regret I announce… the death of Saskia.”

  Some expressed surprise while others looked at Harold with dread. A tall and muscular man shot up to his feet. He had tanned skin and short silver hair. He owned a muscular but clean-shaven face and a scarred wide nose. The silver-haired man also wore heavy leather armour with metal plates and a wolf’s pelt. His wide dark eyes fell on Harold.

  “How could this be?”

  “Yes, Heru… This is very troubling news,” Harold responded, gazing at him.

  The chancellor rose from his seat while Heru sat down. Mara looked at him and his two companions. She didn’t recognize the middle-aged man with wrinkles and greying blonde hair. His blue eyes remained bright and vibrant behi
nd round glasses. The white outfit he wore made him look like a doctor or scientist. However, she did recognize the other—a young man with short black hair and a smug look. Recognizing Boyd, Mara glared at him.

  “I’ve heard of this terrible news, but is that not the killer standing next to you?” The chancellor pointed at Mara.

  “No, Chancellor Davis,” Harold said, shaking his head, “she didn’t kill Saskia.”

  “How would you know?” Davis questioned.

  Boyd rose to his feet, smirking at them. “We know she killed Saskia and those four children. She’s an undying, a soul devouring demon!”

  The guests looked at Boyd, then to Mara. She felt humiliated, knowing she never did those things. Mara would give anything to wipe the smirk off his face.

  The Silver Thorn master turned his gaze to him. “What proof do you have?” Harold glanced back at Davis. “I’ve heard her side of the story and it’s more believable. Saskia was still alive when she found her, telling her to find me.” He gestured to Mara. “But she was executed with no proof or evidence.”

  “Is that so?” Davis asked.

  “Yes,” Mara replied, “I’ve no reason to kill Saskia, but they never gave me a chance to defend myself. And after I rescued two of their children.”

  People murmured to each other, unsure what to believe.

  The older man with glasses stood up and gazed at Harold and Mara. “We can find out right here, right now, if she’s the killer,” he suggested.

  The chancellor looked at him, his face contorted in fear. He grabbed his sleeve and frowned at him. “Dr. Moen! You brought that thing here?” Davis cried.

  “Of course. She accompanied me,” Dr. Moen chimed, smiling back at him.

  Boyd raised an eyebrow. “Well, that explained why you asked for a private carriage.”

  Davis looked at the new guardsman, and then to the doctor. The chancellor eventually released his sleeve.

  “I think she can help.” The doctor looked at Master Harold. “If that’s all right with you?”

  The old Silver Thorn master nodded. “Very well, you may bring them in.”

  The doors opened to reveal a woman in form-fitting armour with a skin-tight suit underneath. Glowing crystals and gold trimmings adorned the dark metal. The red fabric forming her hood flowed behind her in an ethereal manner. She moved with fluid and grace. Mara gawked at her face in shock, recognizing the seven eyes and the red hood. Although the creature’s face was actually a mask. Now that they met face-to-face, Mara could see her details more clearly.

  “This is the Watcher,” the doctor introduced, gesturing to the creature. “My most finest creation, she’s a powerful psychic who can read minds.”

  The Watcher approached Mara. She stopped and stared at her with seven glowing eyes. Mara glanced back and felt a strange sensation in her head. She rubbed her eyes, trying to break contact with the creature’s gaze.

  A big smile formed on Dr. Moen’s face. “Ah, she’s using her powers now.”

  “What?” Mara looked at him, feeling nervous that this creature could read her mind.

  “Relax, it won’t take long,” the doctor reassured. “She’ll determine if you’re telling the truth. We’ll get this straightened out.”

  Mara followed his instructions and gazed at the Watcher. The doctor approached the two.

  “Watcher, did she kill Saskia?” Dr. Moen asked.

  “No, she did not,” the creation said in a monotone voice.

  Gasps and murmurs filled the room.

  Boyd glared at them. “This is bullshit!” All eyes fell on him. “I don’t believe in all this psychic stuff. The creature is fake!”

  The Watcher turned her glowing gaze onto Boyd and said, “However, she killed the White Lady permanently with Saskia’s aid, for only an undying can kill an undying.”

  Chancellor Davis snapped his gaze onto Boyd. Even the doctor looked surprised. No one expected the Watcher to say that. Boyd’s jaw dropped as he stared at the doctor’s creation. He shook his head, but the creature had plenty to say.

  “He pushed her off a cliff, hoping the fall would kill her. He planned on stripping every trinket off her corpse so he could sell them. But Saskia came to her aid and they killed the undying together. He saw this and ran back to the village. He lied about killing the White Lady and everyone believed him. Word reached the Guardsmen and Mirahyll. A small group was sent to congratulate and ask him to join. He accepted. After all, who would believe a mere girl—who couldn’t hold a sword in a fight—killed the White Lady?”

  Mara gawked at the Watcher. “That’s what he said to me!” She glared at Boyd.

  Everyone stared at Mara and the Watcher, and then finally to Boyd. The new guardsman gawked at the Watcher. She exposed him. He sat back down and stared at her with apprehension. Davis gazed at Boyd, unsure what to think. He looked at Dr. Moen.

  “Doctor, this creature—is it true?” Davis asked calmly.

  Dr. Moen nodded, but before he could answer, he was interrupted.

  “I wouldn’t rely on such a creature’s claim,” High Priestess Alena warned in an old and hoarse voice. She stood up and pointed at the Watcher. “This creature’s powers are fake and its existence is unnatural. Its creation is against the will of the gods.”

  Dr. Moen scowled at the old woman and her disciples. “Her powers are more real than your gods,” he hissed. He pointed at Commander White. “Why don’t you ask him? He’s seen her powers.”

  Commander White remained quiet, glaring at Dr. Moen. Judging from the look on his face, Mara figured he didn’t wish to be dragged into this.

  “Speaking of unnatural existences,” Lady Isabella began. She gazed at the followers of Kallikratés with a dismissive air. “I find it hypocritical you criticize her of being unnatural while some of us are not human.”

  “Ah, yes… I haven’t forgotten the lot of you horrible creatures,” Alena said harshly. “Each and every one of you are a blight upon humanity!”

  “Well, that’s a compliment,” a hooded woman said. She wore a dark purple bustle dress. Green gemstones adorned her neck. The woman had a voluptuous figure, but was heavily concealed. Black gloves covered her arms. Dark shadows obscured much of her face, save for a pair of smiling full lips.

  “Indeed, Morgan,” Isabella addressed the woman in dark purple. She gazed at the priestess and her men. “Besides, isn’t your church dedicated to a pair of power-hungry warmongers?”

  Commander White rose to his feet. He was about to say something, but Alena placed a hand on his arm and stopped him. He glanced at her and sat down. Mara watched the spectacle unfold. Once again, her gaze fell on the commander. He took notice and glared at her. She turned away, knowing she got caught ogling him.

  “How dare you speak of the gods in such vulgarity!” Alena bellowed, “They gave us the Golden Age. Where were you when the Great Lord made his sacrifice?”

  “And where was he when millions of souls were lost?” Morgan asked. “Yes, indeed, Lord Kratés made such a great sacrifice, but the damage was already done. On another note, the cataclysm long ago was small compared to the bloody crusade the gods led in order to birth the Golden Age.” Morgan looked at Commander White. “And I’ve heard so much about you and your dedication to Kallisto.”

  Commander White frowned back at the mysterious woman. He looked disturbed to have her eyes on him, as if his composure was about to falter. The commander shook his head and kept a strong face. “It’s my obligation to serve.”

  “Is that so? You’re willing to give up everything for the goddess? She, who never cared for this world?” Morgan smiled at the young man. He remained quiet, but it was clear he couldn’t stand to look at her any longer. Mara watched in silence.

  A loud thud echoed throughout the room, Harold struck the ground with his staff. Everyone looked at him.

  “May we have silence,” Harold called. He looked at the Watcher. “I believe the doctor’s creation. Everything she said matched what I h
eard.” He gestured to Mara. “And I also have proof of this one’s innocence.” Master Harold glanced at a Silver Thorn and beckoned him with a hand. The Silver Thorn nodded and left. He returned with a sword.

  Everyone, except Mara, froze upon seeing the blade. What made the sword so special? She gazed at the sword, seeing a katana-like blade in a black and gold sheath. The most notable feature was a blue gemstone mounted in the black and gold hilt. Everyone watched the Silver Thorn place the sheathed weapon before Master Harold.

  “Lord Slayer Godstruck.”

  Mara glanced at Heru, hearing him utter out the name of the sword. She looked around and saw everyone’s similar reactions. Even the three uninvited guests gawked at it. She saw dread and apprehension in the faces of the commander and the old man. The priestess was as still as a statue. Her face might be unreadable, but she had an adverse reaction to seeing the blade. Master Harold watched Godstruck before gazing to his guests.

  “Saskia’s life force was bound to a spell meant to protect this blade. The spell was created by the very magic flowing through Ardana. She lived for over a thousand years.”

  Only Chancellor Davis and Mara expressed surprise. Saskia mentioned not being normal, but Mara didn’t see this coming. She saw Davis snapping his gaze onto Boyd again. Everyone, including the chancellor, believed his story. Now it was unraveling. Boyd looked back at him, his face turning pale again.

  “Saskia was the guardian of Godstruck, the sword that can slay anything,” Harold explained. “She would never grow old as long as the spell was intact, and Godstruck was safely hidden.” He glanced down at the sword. “A weapon with the ability to absorb magic or the sword’s destruction were her weaknesses. Saskia’s death broke the spell and Godstruck is now vulnerable.” He pointed at Mara. “She found smaller stab wounds on Saskia’s body, which leads me to believe she was killed by a magic siphoning weapon, possibly a moonstone-enchanted dagger. The steel sword was merely planted.”