In all honesty the sword looked plain, but appeared reliable. She also got it for free, so she shouldn’t take it for granted. The blacksmith watched her for a while before returning to work. A thought crossed her mind while sheathing her blade. “Those people from the Faith, who came here a few days ago… I saw that sword in the commander’s possession.”
Talon gazed back at her, his eyes lit up. “Aye, I saw that too. That caught your fancy? I believe that’s the Hand of Kratés—reforged from the God-King’s blade in the battle against the Dark One. I hear Commander White travels to Corlin just to see a master blacksmith, which is odd…” Talon paused briefly. “Old Edwin is a master blacksmith—the best in all of Ardana, given one can afford his services. He even puts my skills to shame. However, there was another who could rival him, but is no longer around.”
“What happened?” Mara asked.
“He mysteriously vanished about thirty years ago,” he answered, then went back to work. She looked at him as he began to strike the heated metal with his hammer. The sound of metal being struck was familiar, but she couldn’t remember where. After staring at the embers, Mara headed to the training grounds to practice on a dummy with her new sword.
***
Mara rested in her bedchambers later that evening. The pale moonlight filled the room. Hearing a wolf howl over the distance, she opened her eyes and glanced at the window. She got up and looked out. The snow was falling lightly. Hearing a knock on the door, she turned around to answer it. Opening the door, she saw Master Harold and bowed in respect.
“It’s an honour to see you, sir,” she greeted. “Is there anything you need?”
“I have some news,” Harold began. “The group I sent a few days ago returned with some more findings, concerning Saskia’s murder and the state of Misty Valley.”
“What of the White Lady? Is she gone for good?”
“Yes, they found her corpse and confirmed everything you told us. Saskia was right, you’re an undying,” Harold said. “Misty Valley is reverting to normal, albeit slowly. Then again, a cursed area cannot recover over night. The Forgotten Ones are less hostile. They now resort to hiding and show signs of fear if approached. I guess it’s natural—they were once children.”
Mara felt her stomach twist in guilt. She recalled killing a few Forgotten Ones when they showed hostility towards her.
“On a positive note, the four missing children have been found,” Harold added.
Mara’s eyes lit up. “They were?”
“Yes, they’re perfectly fine. They were in the nearby woods, living off wild berries. We discovered that they wandered back to Ozin, but were barred from returning home. They’ll go to the orphanage in Mirahyll.”
“Oh,” Mara murmured, glancing down. “Saskia said the village wouldn’t take them back.”
“They’ll be in better hands,” he reassured her. “The city is safer.”
She changed the subject. Mara looked up at Harold and asked, “What of Saskia’s murder?”
“I have reason to believe you were framed,” Harold replied, looking down at the floor. “We discovered that the alderman and the village guards were bribed into executing you. Whoever did this sought to divert attention away from the true killer. The former village guards confessed. However, the alderman denied any wrong doing.”
“Did they find Boyd?” Mara asked.
Harold shook his head. “No, we were unable to find him. Regrettably, the Holy Blades have begun their own investigation. There’s now very little we can do.” He gazed up at her. “I’m considering another scenario—Saskia might have been murdered by the Blackthorn Guild.”
“The Blackthorn Guild?”
“Yes, I know them quite well,” Harold replied. “They are thieves and killers who could be hired for a price. The guild’s founder is Theo Blackthorn, the most wanted man in Ardana. They tend to terrorize people traveling on the roads alone or at night, but do accept the occasional assassination job. Lady Isabella or the Faith could have hired them to avoid suspicion. Regardless, they remain as prime suspects, which leads to another thing…”
“What is it?”
“I’ve been invited to Hema. Lady Isabella wishes to plead her case and clear her name. She also invited the Faith, although High Priestess Alena will not be there. Two representatives will attend on her behalf. We’re to meet in Hema’s capital, Hemal.”
“Okay, so what’s the problem?” Mara asked.
“If two possessors meet, it may spell disaster. Especially if someone seeks to kill us. It’s a risk I’m not willing to take. So, you’ll go in my stead. Come, a carriage is waiting.”
She took her sword and followed him, the bestiary was strapped to her belt.
“Okay, I’ll go,” Mara agreed, “but I’ve noticed they don’t see eye to eye.”
“Ah, yes… It’s probably because of the treaty. Once finalized, Kallikratés will have a presence in Hema for the first time in a thousand years. Lady Isabella is less than keen about it,” Harold explained.
Approaching the main entrance, the doors opened. Mara saw a black carriage pulled by two black horses and a veiled rider.
Harold looked at her. “I’m sure Lady Isabella will explain the treaty, but please find evidence. Anything you find may help us move forward. And I recommend you keep your sword ready.” She glanced at her sword, and then to him. “Hema can be very dangerous,” he continued. “Be safe.”
Once ready, Mara headed for the carriage. She got in and the carriage began to move.
***
The horses moved swiftly down the mountain path. The ride felt bumpy, Mara wondered if this was safe. The recent snowfall made the path slick, but the rider didn’t seem to care. Never once did he adjust his speed.
Looking out the window, she saw the moon lighting up the night sky. Mist and snow covered the top of the mountains. Mara could see Ghost Mountain to the East. While glancing at the scenery, she noticed a couple of white creatures on the higher elevations. They were snow beasts. Fortunately, the creatures were far away. They went higher up as she went the opposite direction. The carriage reached the main road to Hema, passing in between the two mountains. The rider picked up speed. Soon she saw the city of Hemal.
The carriage stopped upon reaching the entrance to Hema’s capital. Mara watched the door open. Realizing she had to leave, she sighed and got out.
“Is this it?” Mara glanced at the rider. The rider left in silence. She watched the carriage travel to the castle beyond Hemal. She sighed again and walked into the city.
Wandering the streets, she watched the snow fall under the pale light of the lamp posts. Walking past gothic buildings and townhomes, Mara found not a soul around. It was unusually quiet at the moment. The light of the full moon broke through the thick and heavy clouds. All of a sudden, she heard a crash and a scream. Gripping the hilt, Mara went to investigate.
She found many dead, slaughtered as if by an animal. Mara was supposed to meet with Lady Isabella, not witness a massacre. Looking around, she found one person still alive. A young girl held her wounded neck in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding. Mara approached her, taking note of the massive injury. The bite tore through vital arteries. No one else was around and she was unfamiliar with Hemal.
Losing a lot of blood, the girl would be lucky to have a minute to live. She opened her mouth to utter one word. “Werewolf…” she said barely above a whisper.
Mara gaped at her—a werewolf in Hemal. She didn’t sign up for this! The girl stopped moving. Mara stared at her body, then closed her eyes. This girl didn’t deserve to die. Hearing another loud crash, her eyes snapped open. She looked up and followed the source of the sound. The creature even killed the guards. People screamed as they fled into their homes. They shut their doors tight, waiting for the madness to end. Mara was stunned with all the chaos and death caused by this monster. Being outside wasn’t safe, so she searched for a place to hide. Mara knocked on several doors, hoping to find sanctuary.
But none would offer their homes for they were too frightened. Growing desperate, she found an abandoned house and entered it.
A horrifying scene greeted her. A young family was slaughtered, their scattered body parts strewn all over the place. The walls and floors were painted with blood. The stench invaded her nostrils. It was more overpowering compared to when she entered Saskia’s home. Mara identified a father and mother, and two small daughters.
She heard a crash in the next room. Curiosity got the best of her. Raising her sword with a shaky hand, she went to investigate. Opening the door, she found the beast—a werewolf with light brown fur, sitting in the centre of the room. The monster’s body looked human at one point, but now it was twisted and deformed by unknown forces. The creature’s back was turned to Mara, unaware of her presence. To say the least, she was terrified. This was her first time seeing a werewolf. It looked larger than her, though the snow beast was much larger and she had the aid of the Silver Thorns. Alone, she stood no chance against this creature. Sneaking out of the room, the sounds of her footsteps alerted it. The creature turned around and snarled at her. Mara saw glowing yellow eyes and sharp bloodied fangs. Standing on all fours, it lifted its head and roared. She turned around and fled. The creature gave chase.
She ran to the door, but the creature was much faster and blocked her exit. Mara had to fight. Holding her sword, she stood her ground. The werewolf charged at her. She swung her sword, but the beast parried the attack. Mara could only watch as the sword flew out of her hands. The creature leapt and knocked her onto the floor, massive claws pinned her wrists. She glanced up at the fearsome creature. Mara didn’t know why she decided to fight this monster. Her heart thumped as if it were about to leap out of her throat. The werewolf sank its fangs into her. Mara screamed while the creature bit the left side of her neck and shoulder. Its canines penetrated her flesh. Her heart was pounding. The pain was so intense, it put her into a state of shock. Before slipping away, she saw the creature snarling at her. The moon was red. Her vision blurred and everything went black.
***
Mara woke up with blurry vision. Within the haze, she saw a man approach her.
“Ah, you’ve awakened,” he began.
“What happened?” Mara asked in a coarse voice. Her throat stung from the bite. Looking around, she found herself in an unfamiliar place. No longer was she in the home of the slaughtered family.
She blinked a few times. Her vision cleared, allowing a better look at the middle-aged man. He wore a black dress shirt underneath a grey vest. The man also wore black pants and matching shoes. His eyes were dark and sunken, and a prominent nose sat on his thin pale face. She saw a monocle over the left eye. A frown graced his thin lips. His head possessed thinning dark hair that was swept back and bushy eyebrows. Silver hair graced the sides of his head.
“You’re in Hemal Clinic. I’m Doctor Simon,” he explained. “You were found unconscious. You had a very unfortunate encounter, but survived.” Mara reached for her neck and felt a burning sensation. The clinic doctor noticed the bite wound. “Feel a burning sensation where you’ve been bitten?” She looked back at him and nodded. The doctor sighed, “You’ve been infected with lycanthropy. You’ll become a werewolf.”
Mara’s ears perked up. “What?”
It wasn’t as painful to speak this time, but she’d be better off letting her wounds heal. She recalled being attacked by the terrible beast. Mara thought she died. Even though she survived the attack, Mara was unsure about being lucky. Now she had lycanthropy on top of memory loss and a curse.
“Fortunately, a full moon already passed. You’ll have time to cure it.” He stepped forward and passed her a sealed letter. “Lady Isabella knows of your plight.”
Opening the letter, Mara began to read it. “I’ve received word that you’ve been bitten. As soon as you recover, come to Bartharoy Castle. I wish to cure you, as well as compensate. I recommend you make haste. Lady Isabella Bartharoy…”
Mara looked up, feeling relieved to know there was a cure. She looked back at Dr. Simon and reckoned she owed him for treating her injuries.
He shook his head. “Do not worry,” Dr. Simon said. “It was Lady Isabella that requested your treatment. I suspect she’ll request a favour from you.”
Mara nodded. She turned around and left the clinic.
***
The sun broke through the heavy clouds. Morning arrived. She looked to the castle beyond Hemal. Walking down the streets, Mara saw the chaos and carnage left by the werewolf. Hemal’s inhabitants were picking up pieces of victims and preparing them for burning. Some of these victims had family and friends. Some lost their fathers, some their mothers. There were even children—brothers, sisters, sons, and daughters. These victims were slaughtered in cold blood.
People mourned the dead. Mothers and children were crying. The men tried to keep a brave face, but none could hide the devastation of last night.
Watching the dead be taken away, a thought crept into her mind. Such a creature shouldn’t be allowed to live. By now a bounty should have been declared. She glanced at her sword, still in her possession. Whoever brought her to the clinic retrieved her sword as well. She hoped not to encounter that creature again. Mara made her way to the castle.
Walking by an inn, she noticed some men in golden armour, wielding gold and silver swords. She reckoned they were the Holy Blades accompanying the two representatives from the Faith. Much to her surprise, they appeared fine and unharmed. They could’ve helped last night. There could have been more survivors.
Approaching the castle gate, she found a huddled figure. Coming closer, she saw an old man pleading to the guards.
“Please, I must see her. She’s the only one who can save him.” Sensing her presence, the old man turned around and looked at Mara. His blue eyes grew wide. “You!” He scrambled to his feet, grabbed her hand, and shook it. All of a sudden, he was in a cheery mood. “We meet again. What a coincidence!”
Mara watched him in confusion. “Do I know you?”
“Of course. My name is Mr. White. We met a few days ago.”
She recalled an old man apologizing for his rude son. His snow-white hair reminded her.
“What are you doing here?” Mara asked.
His smile faded and he released her hand. “I’m one of the two representatives sent by the Faith. However,” Mr. White hesitated, “did you see that dreadful creature last night?”
“Yes, and it bit me,” she replied.
Mr. White noted the blood stains on her hood and clothes. “I’m very sorry,” he murmured, glancing down. “You see, I’m trying to request an audience with Lady Isabella, but she doesn’t think highly of the Faith.” He gazed at her. “Maybe you can help me? If you’re here, then you must’ve received an invite.”
Mara tilted her head in curiosity. “Okay, with what?”
He cleared his throat. “I must save that creature.”
“Why do you want to do that?”
“The beast from last night was… Karl.”
Mara gaped at him. She froze, processing the words spoken to her. The man she first saw as Prince Charming turned out to be quite a monster. Now he was a werewolf, the same creature that attacked her last night. Perfect.
The castle gates opened. Mara and Mr. White saw a well-dressed man walking towards them. His ensemble was a mix of black, red, and gold. His pale skin contrasted with his dark hair. His eyes were pale blue. He appeared young, but most of his colour was drained away.
“Welcome. I’m the steward of Bartharoy Castle, but you may call me Evan. Milady has been expecting you.” The steward beckoned Mara to come inside. Mr. White was about to follow, but the guards stopped him. Mara noticed and looked at Evan with a questioning glance.
“Lady Isabella only invited you,” Evan explained. “Since the treaty hasn’t been finalized yet, he’s not welcomed.”
“I don’t understand,” Mara said, shaking her head. “I thought he and his son were inv
ited?”
“True,” he answered, turning around. “However, those discussions were supposed to be held in the city. Given the circumstances, they’re now delayed.”
Mara closed her eyes and sighed. “Then I hope you can make an exception.” She opened her eyes and gestured to Mr. White. “Commander White is the beast from last night. His father needs Lady Isabella’s help to change him back.”
Evan and the guards glanced at her, and then to Mr. White. The old man shifted around nervously, seeing all those eyes on him. After watching him for a while, the steward nodded. “Very well. I’ll grant you both an audience, given you adhere to our rules.” Evan beckoned them to follow.
***
They walked past dead gardens, withered and frozen. Evan guided them to a pair of large bronze doors, opening with their approach. They entered a grand foyer. Mara noticed how cold and dark it was. Several candles burned, but offered little warmth. The walls were dark blue. Large pillars matched the walls with some gold adorning them. A grand staircase with golden rails led either to the left or right. Looking around, she spotted a couple of servants. On their hands and knees, they cleaned the floors and furniture. Mara and Mr. White followed Evan up the stairs and went left. They passed through the grand dining hall. She spotted a long table with several candles burning on top.
“Thank you,” Mr. White told her. “If not for you, I’d never get into the castle.”
Mara looked back at him and nodded. Evan brought them to an anteroom.
“Please wait here until Lady Isabella is ready to see you,” the steward said. Mara and Mr. White nodded. “Oh, and the rule you must adhere to—uttering the names of the gods is forbidden.”
“What?” Mr. White cried. “That’s sacrilege!”
Mara was perplexed, yet didn’t question it. After a few moments, the steward led them into a very fancy room with elegant furniture and dark red walls. Heavy curtains blocked out the sun. Lady Isabella sat on a golden chair, being served a clean crystal glass. A servant poured her drink. It looked like red wine, but much thicker. Mara then realized Isabella’s vampiric nature. The ruler of Hema looked at her and smiled.
The Lost & Cursed Page 8