Mythia: and the Awakened Beast

by Margie Mandell

  The Doctrine smiled warmly at her, then motioned toward a tall knight with curly blond hair. Lord Pileus. “Ask him.”

  The tall knight smiled down at Mythia. “I was just picking up a pair of donatus from the Doctrine’s when we had a lovely set of visitors. They meant to arrest us, but we kind of thought it would be a better idea to pay you a visit,” Pileus said, shrugging. “We really weren’t in the mood to sleep on the hard cellar floors, I heard they aren’t particularly comfortable. The two donatus we rescued have found shelter in one of the houses here, specifically reserved for refugees.” Bello stood nearby, crossing her arms over her chest, watching carefully. Ustrina sat at a long, low table, her round luminous eyes peering up at everyone. A delicious scent of roasted fish wafted through the kitchen, making her suddenly realize how hungry she was after a whole day without food. Mythia placed a hand on Pileus’s arm, feeling a grin break through her tear streaked face.

  “Good thing too,” Titus exclaimed. A wide toothed grin finally broke across his face as well, slapping the Doctrine on the back. “You are both more than welcome to stay in my home for as long as you need. Good to have you back, my friend.” The Doctrine pulled Titus into a hug.

  “I’ve missed you greatly, Titus. Both of you.” He looked down at Mythia, his blue eyes piercing into hers, seeing directly through her. A gift of the phoenix.

  Pileus's face suddenly turned grave. “There may be more coming over the next few days. Something happened as we were leaving; the warning bells were set off. And yesterday Prince Regulus was arrested.”

  There was a clatter as Mythia knocked over one of the chairs.

  “Is he okay?” She blurted out.

  Pileus sighed, his eyebrows knitting together. “Apparently he had said something to make the king angry. But I don't feel comfortable knowing the bells were going off while he was in the dungeons.” Mythia swallowed, staring up into Pileus's eyes. He looked down at her and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Don't worry, Mythia. Regulus is strong, and most of the knights remain loyal to him. I'm sure he'll be okay.”

  Bello's eyes flitted back and forth between Mythia and the knight, growing more and more narrow as they did so.

  Mythia nodded her head at Pileus. Tears filled her eyes again. She suddenly didn’t feel hungry anymore, instead, she felt a desperate need to sob, but not in front of everyone. “I need to go. For a walk... I'll be back...” They continued to stare at her in silence as she turned around and strode through the door, quickly closing it behind her. She let out a slow shuddering breath, knowing that everyone was probably bursting to speak about her behind her back. About all the chaos she was causing in the cities, how she mercilessly burned those guards and bounty hunters to a crisp. How she had lost control. Tears filled her eyes to the rim.

  The door opened again and Mythia turned quickly around, immediately stopping herself from her impending break down, to see Bello slipping out of the house. She closed the door carefully behind her.

  “Mythia,” she said, her voice low. “Is there something going on between you and Prince Regulus?” Her face looked stern, serious. Her gray eyes swimming in the dark cavernous city.

  Mythia stepped back. She decided to only reveal the partial truth. “Regulus is my friend. I care for him.”

  Bello lifted her chin, studying Mythia. “Whatever you think may have happened between the two of you in Trigonus, Mythia, needs to end here and now. We cannot let emotions cloud our judgment in the face of war. This is no time for letting your feelings overtake you. Feelings make you weak. And we can't afford our queen questioning her loyalty because of some girlish crush. Either you're with the king and his son, or you're with us. You can't have it both ways.” She looked sternly at Mythia, towering over her by at least a foot.

  Mythia swallowed. “Regulus isn't like his father. He's different... he's-”

  “Everyone within the Kingdom of Terra hates you, Mythia. The Rejicio alone are the only ones who will stand by your side. Everyone else is against us, against you. Including your precious Prince Regulus.”

  Mythia frowned. “I don't believe that.”

  “Well, believe it. The royal family is corrupted by the Dragon King. You’ve seen what he is capable of yourself. They have been corrupted with evil for generations. The prince will be no different once he is crowned king.”

  Mythia slowly backed up, feeling the sudden urge to be alone again. “I'm going for a walk.” She turned quickly around and tore away from Bello’s questioning stare, across the giant cavern and straight out through the wide opening, allowing herself to be swallowed up by the mountains. She found a good slope at the bottom with enough jagged edges to place her feet on and pulled herself up. She kept climbing up the mountain, lifting herself higher and higher. She didn't stop until her legs began to shake and her arms trembled from the excursion. She pulled her body up onto a long, thin ledge and sat down upon it, swinging her legs over the edge.

  Mythia’s eyes glided over the dusky panoramic view in front of her. The entire kingdom would have been in her view if it was a clear, sunny day. But the cascading darkness of twilight shrouded the Borra Forest, and covered the cities facing her in a blanket of deep blue. The rain clouds had floated away, replaced by tiny pinpricks of light popping out slowly as the sun sank down.

  She felt a distinctive pull coming from somewhere in the south, where Trigonus lay at the very heart of Terra. A deep, beating ache overtook her, as she felt, yet again, the prince's overwhelming presence by her side. She breathed deeply, imagining him to be sitting next to her. She could smell his musty scent, hear his soft voice. The pain it caused was unbearable, far worse than burning flesh.

  “This is no time for letting your feelings overtake you. Feelings make you weak.” Bello's words rang through her ears. Maybe she was right, maybe her feelings were weakening her. Maybe that was why she lost control so easily back in Monoceros... why she killed without question, for the first time in her life.

  Ventus’s round eyes suddenly appeared next, her wise words echoing across her mind. “My weakness had prevented me from fighting back, from defending myself. So, I became the predator.”

  An odd hissing sound floated across the mountain air. Mythia's eyes flitted around until they landed upon the source, a pair of vultures sitting on the opposite mountain on a ledge like hers, ripping off pieces of flesh from something dead and rotting. She watched as they hissed and snarled at each other, arguing over who gets the larger, juicier pieces of meat. Maybe Ventus was right, too. Mythia didn't want to feel weak anymore. She didn't want to be disabled by this pain that her feelings for Regulus was causing her. This agony, as though part of her was being ripped and torn just like the flesh of the dead animal. She didn't want to feel anything.

  Somewhere deep inside of her, the beast lifted its head. Its eyes slowly blinked open. It stretched its arms and legs. A strange feeling of coldness, that had nothing to do with the misty northern air around her, began to replace her warm blood. The spark behind her brown eyes went out, like a candlelight on its last piece of wick. The look of loathing from the people of Monoceros, those born with unicorn marks that were the most forgiving and peaceful out of all four cities, now tumbled into her mind along with everything else. Voices echoed across her mind back and forth like shooting arrows.

  “Everyone within the Kingdom of Terra hates you, Mythia.”

  “You're the reason my sister can't get out of bed anymore. The reason our lives have been turned upside down.”

  “Get out of my city, ya filthy queen!”

  Regulus loved his people, more than anything, especially those in Monoceros. Good, pure, Regulus. How could he still have feelings for Mythia, after all she had done to his kingdom? After all the suffering she had caused his people? It didn’t even matter, anyway. She found the three scrolls and released the burden of magic upon the kingdom. She married the king who in turn went on a tyrannical rampage. She made these choices thinking, hoping, it would help bring peace to
Terra. But now everything was messed up because of the choices she had made. There was no turning back.

  She stood up. She quickly found the golden band wrapped around her finger, like a noose tying her to the king. She pulled it off and squeezed it tightly in her palm. There was no time for feelings, in the face of war. There was no time for weakness. It was time to let go of the noose that bound her to the king, to the string that tied her heart to that of the prince’s. It was time to be the predator. Her cold eyes stared off into the south, the face of the Dragon King seemingly floating in front of her, taunting her as she threw the ring with all her might straight through his face and into the abyss of twilight.

  7. THE ARMY OF A THOUSAND MEN

  “Are you sure he wasn't involved?” King Tribus muttered from the head of the dining table, his fingers pressed against each other, a plate of roast beef and potatoes sitting uneaten in front of him. Empty chairs filled the long table, as hardly anyone was left to dine with the king. One of the dungeon guards stood in front of him, with a full report on the donatus's escape. A vast majority had gotten away but some had been killed. Overall, it was a negative impact from the lack of manpower the castle had on hand.

  “We are certain, your highness,” the guard piped up. “Prince Regulus remained in his cell during the entire thing. They used their gifts against him and the guard on duty... Sadon told me that the old man fooled Regulus into thinking he was dead, and naturally called for a guard to check on him.”

  King Tribus sighed and glanced down at his intertwining fingers. “I always knew my son was far too trusting for his own good. You are dismissed.” He waved the guard away with his hand, who bowed himself quickly out.

  Just as he left, Lord Ulric burst in through the doors, Lord Rowan at his heels. They both looked agitated, their cloaks billowing behind them. King Tribus stood up with anticipation, causing the few others sitting at the table to stand as well.

  “Any news?” Tribus whispered urgently to his two best knights.

  Ulric and Rowan glanced anxiously at each other. Ulric spoke first. “We tracked her steps all the way to the Borealis Mountains, sire. We found...”

  “The Rejicio,” Rowan finished. “We found their living quarters.”

  “More like a city,” Ulric breathed.

  Tribus glared at them both. “But did you find the queen?”

  “No sire, but we know she must be staying with the Rejicio. We searched the mountains, but couldn't find her, instead we found-”

  “An army!” Ulric burst, throwing the king slightly off guard.

  “I didn't send you out to find a militia of a hundred outcasts, Ulric, I sent you to find my wife!” King Tribus spat, his emerald eyes alight with fire.

  “Not a hundred, sire!” Ulric was shaking now, fear flooding through him. “An army of a thousand men!”

  King Tribus stopped, his eyes widening. “A thousand?”

  Rowan nodded his head. “Yes, sire. I saw it as well.”

  “A thousand...” King Tribus repeated slowly, staring blankly ahead and plopping back down onto his high-backed chair.

  Relief washed over Ulric's face and he unclenched his jaw. Rowan glanced sideways at him.

  “They are far more organized than we had thought, sire,” Rowan said carefully.

  A shadow passed over the king's face. He stood back up, straighter this time. His eyes blazed with black and emerald flames as he looked at his knights. The dragon on his leather vest appeared to swell to life. “Gather all the knights from the kingdom. Take them off their donatus and city duties. There is no more need to search for the queen now that we know where she is hiding. But if you’re right, then there is every chance she will make her way here on her own. Prepare the knights for battle. Triple the guards at the city gate and the citadel. Scatter a few around the perimeters to keep a look out as well. Immediately.” He nodded his head in dismissal as Ulric and Rowan bowed back, quickly rushing out of the dining room. A collective murmur of gasps and whispers escalated down the long table.

  The king sat back down, along with his subjects. He glared at the three empty chairs around him which once held his only son, his best knight, and his beloved wife. A heat coursed through him as he thought about Mythia, a strange mix of desire for her flesh and desire for her blood pulsing with each beat of his heart. He felt his hands shake as he brought the goblet of wine up to his lips. He drank deeply, trying desperately to mask the torturous paradox that grew inside of him, as the Dragon King fought against King Tribus for control of his mind. Control of the kingdom.

  A sneer curled upon his lips. He peered down at his reflection, shining back at him from his golden goblet. His eyes were as black as the night, as he spoke silently to himself. “So it appears you have been hiding with the Rejicio, the one place in Terra I can not touch. No worries, my queen… I shall drain the blood from every man in this wretched kingdom if that is what it takes to get you back.”

  No one at the table heard him.

  ◆◆◆

  Mythia arrived back to find Pileus, Titus, Ustrina, Ventus, and the Doctrine gathered around the kitchen in deep conversation. She walked quietly up to them, feeling much different than she did when she walked away. There was no more threat of tears. A new numbness seemed to override her feelings. The Doctrine noticed her standing there and walked up to her, his strong gaze studying hers.

  She forced a smile. “I’ve missed you.”

  The Doctrine clenched his jaw. “And I you. Where have you been all summer?”

  “I never left the forest surrounding Trigonus. It took a while… to heal.”

  “That’s right, Titus had mentioned you were injured.” The Doctrine frowned. “I was actually wondering if I could inspect your injuries.”

  Mythia raised an eyebrow. “It’s not exactly pretty.”

  “No, I wouldn’t expect it to be. But as I have dabbled in healing, in the past, I was hoping to see if I could do anything to help.”

  Mythia bit her lip. She nodded her head and slowly walked farther away from everyone else into a corner by the fire. She carefully lifted her black vest and green tunic to reveal the grotesquely scarred skin beneath.

  The Doctrine peered down, studying it carefully. He stood back up and nodded as she lowered her clothing back down.

  “And you said the fire was produced by an entity who called himself the Dragon King, is that correct?” The Doctrine asked, continuing to study her face.

  “Yes,” Mythia nodded. “It wasn’t quite the king himself who had magic. He only seemed able to do it when he transformed in his odd way. The whole ordeal was very, very strange.”

  The Doctrine sighed. “Since the fire he used was procured from magic, and particularly evil magic of the Dragon King, I fear the skin that suffered will never be the same. How does it feel?”

  “At the moment it feels like nothing. But there are times when it burns like the night it was aflame.”

  The Doctrine nodded slowly. “Yes… like a curse. I suppose it burns when you over exert yourself, or shortly after?”

  “Now that you mention it… yes, it does,” Mythia frowned, remembering how badly it hurt after blasting the guards with fire in Monoceros.

  “I believe once the Tenebris is defeated the intermittent pain, along with the scarring, might go away. But in order to defeat it, we will have to face his smaller entities, who especially like to dwell in those with power, before we will see the Tenebris itself face to face. The Dragon King being one.” His blue eyes bore into hers, drilling through them. She suddenly wondered if his abilities as a phoenix had heightened since ithe kingdom’s powers were all awakening. She felt like he was digging into her mind and looked quickly away. She didn’t want him in there.

  “I suppose you’re right,” she shrugged. She glanced at the rest of the group. “Where is Bello?”

  “She said she had to speak with someone and would be back shortly. Mythia,” the Doctrine lowered his voice. “I’m not sure it is wise to tru
st her. The army she has created… I’ve seen it. I don’t understand how she procured and trained so many Rejicio so quickly, but something’s not right there.”

  “What do you mean?” Mythia asked slowly. Just then the door creaked open, and Bello came in holding onto a bundle of chainmail with a smile on her face. The Doctrine looked meaningfully at Mythia as Bello walked in their direction.

  She thrust the pile of chainmail and a dark tunic into Mythia’s hands. “It’s been decided then,” Bello said with a small grin. Mythia looked at her curiously. “The army leaders agreed to let you join. You start training tomorrow morning… early. Ventus will help you get settled into your group.” She glanced over at Ventus, who was watching them carefully from the table and gave her a quick nod. The Doctrine raised his eyebrows at Mythia, behind Bello’s back. Mythia held onto the heavy chainmail.

  Bello walked away to speak with the others and the Doctrine slid closely to Mythia, keeping his voice low. “You joined the Rejicio army?”

  Mythia shifted her eyes away. “Yes… I did. I want to learn how to fight.”

  The Doctrine nodded. “This might actually be a good thing.” Mythia looked up at him, surprised. “Find out what they’re up to, Mythia. Whatever it is, I have a bad feeling about it.”

  Mythia shivered, yet again, on the cold floor in Bello’s spare bedroom. She clutched at her arms and trembled, wondering how Ventus could have fallen asleep so easily a mere three feet away from her, the sound of her deep breathing continuing in a gentle rhythm. She squeezed her eyes shut, searching for the warmth within her, the spark of her gift, hoping to relieve herself from the cold. But the warmth wasn’t quite there. It felt more solid and cool, like the stone at the top of the mountains that was always capped with white snow no matter the time of year. Her heart rate quickened. Have her gifts suddenly ceased working? She sat up, her breathing intensifying by the second. She gulped and raised her palms.