Bran like the vampire he is, drinks blood. He keeps the blood in wine bottles and stores them in the wine cellar. I didn’t want to know where they came from, but he assures it was not from humans.
Dain, on the other hand, still hunts during the night for his own food. Even if there is meat on the table, he likes to feel the pulse faint from his prey as he rips it to pieces and feasts on their remains.
According to him, Bran instructed Zoren never to serve raw meat at the dining table because it would come off as being ‘rude’ to the rest of us. Unfortunately for Dain, the butler heeded the vampire’s cunning words.
I stared at Bran as he enjoys his drink from his goblet. The shimmering garnet red stone on his finger catches my attention. I remember him wearing that the last time I was here, but not before that.
“You’re curious about this?” Bran asks as he twirls it around his finger, all the time holding her gaze.
“Let no one accuse you of being slow,” I smile at him, and he grins, “I’ve never seen it before.”
“That’s a ring with a portal stone,” Allyn answers for Bran, neatly cutting up a piece of meat on her plate.
“Portal Stone? I thought that referred to places such as Stonehenge, where you can use to set up portals?”
Since the young mage already stuffed her mouth with so much food, Bran responded instead.
“No. That’s a different Portal Stone. This one has a limited range. It can only open and connect portals within a kilometre radius. The one you’re talking about can do so much more and is far more powerful.”
“What Bran has is kind of like a portable version. That’s why it’s so limited.”
I glance over at my junior, amazed by her ability to stuff her face full and still manage to carry out a conversation. It’s a miracle she hasn’t choked.
“So that’s what you used to open those portals?”
“Yep,” he nodded.
“This is the first time I’ve encountered one. Where did you get it?” It would be nice if I have one as well. It will be handy for escaping dangerous situations.
There’s that ambiguous grin again, “A certain demon lent it to me after it was given to him as an exchange for a deal he made.”
Pacts, deals, and soul gambling. He really is an expert in those fields.
It makes me wonder. How many deals was he able to make in the duration that I had a messed up mind?
If I didn’t know him better, I might even think he’s a Witch of Wishes. They do have the same nature of governance in some way.
***
In the several days of my stay in the restored Penrhyn Mansion, I had made myself at home. I had gotten so comfortable; I made myself forget the severity of Zoren’s condition, despite my daily visits. I remained hopeful and trusted in the power of the magic flowing through the walls. Still… death like a mist crept in through the cracks and now rest on the chair by his bed, waiting for any weakness on his behalf to present itself.
A few hours after I completed my afternoon visit, Allyn made a mad dash to the butler’s room. There was panic in each of her steps, and worried thoughts raced through my mind as I followed quickly behind her.
The mage reported that the man is nearing his death as his vital signs continue to drop. The summoned doctor had less to say, but his expression mirrored hers, confirming all our fears.
The butler’s body had become weak. The medicines, spells and support machines were no longer working.
Soon enough, I will have to bid him goodbye in this life and pray to the gods that there is a way for our kinds to find each other in the afterlife.
There’s nothing Allyn can do, and the doctor is useless, but I know there’s someone in this mansion who can do something about it.
Knowing time wasn’t on my side, I run through the corridors of the mansion. My trail instinctively leads me down an armour lined aisle ending with a large carved double door. I momentarily think to myself that these carvings can tell a thousand tales, there is a story unfolding within the wood and space for more to be revealed. If only I had the time presently to study it.
I burst through the door, but the man sitting by his table did not even flinch.
He continues scribbling with his fountain pen, immersed in his work. I wonder if he is creating the remainder of the story for his carvings? I really wish my mind wouldn’t wander so much!!!
“Zoren’s life is in danger,” I know that he already knows that even by just catching my wordless thoughts.
But I felt the announcement would at least shake him a bit to be concerned.
He calmly put down his pen and looks up at me, “I know that.”
“I know you know. But there’s something else.”
I intentionally veil my thoughts to ensure that I held his attention.
Even though he’s puzzled, his jaws are relaxed, and his brows do no crease as he asks, “What is it?”
“Faust, I’m making another deal with you in exchange for Zoren’s life.”
He only chuckles, fidgeting with his tie before his black eyes look up at me.
“I’m not joking, Faust.”
“Liliwen my love, first of all, welcome back.”
“Faust-” he cut me off with the flick of a wrist.
“As you well know my darling, you can only make a deal with a demon once. You’ve used your chance one thousand years ago,” he says as if it’s something I’m not aware of.
“Yes, I know that. That’s why I’m making another deal.”
This time, he doesn’t grin.
“What are you planning to do?”
“I’m planning to save his life.”
“He will die anyway.”
I know that.
I know that humans die with the natural flow of time.
But, as a being who can’t be killed with time, I don’t want to go through life bearing the guilt of this man’s life due to a side effect of the plan I set in motion.
I know there would be consequences, but this was not part of it.
“You’re blaming yourself.”
“Of course, I am!” I won’t be able to hide this from him anyway, so why not just let it out?
He sighs before he stands from his seat and saunters to me, pulling me into his strong arms.
He plants a small kiss on my forehead as he holds me gently against his chest.
It has been so long since I’ve felt his caress. It’s another thing I was deprived of when I was being made into a puppet by the coven.
His touch is as gentle as an angel’s.
“I told you, didn’t I?” I pout, “Without you, I’m a mess at all this.”
He only let out another chuckle.
Whatever happens, I know in his arms, I can put aside my burdens just rest.
“What are you going to do?” I ask finally, breaking the embrace.
“What the master of the mansion should do, my love.”
He leaves another peck on my raven hair and goes out the door to heal a human without a deal being struck.
He might be a demon to everyone else, but I know in his heart there are drops of angel blood pulsing through his veins.
He’s a powerful and dangerous demon to the world, but in my heart, he’s still my angel.
Whatever he does, whoever he is, I need him.
Without him, I can’t completely stand on my own.
In this one-thousand-year-old game we’re playing, one thing is for sure.
To win, I need him, the determining factor of this whole game...
My King.
Chapter 3
The Knights
“Come away with me.”
Her emerald eyes shine bright as they burn with anticipation. She can’t hide the excitement sitting in her chest as she stretches her hand to me.
Her blonde hair falls perfectly past her shoulders, onto her white dress embroidered with petals.
The girl in white seemed like an angel who came to grace this run-down hou
se with her presence.
“So? What do you think? Will you come with me?” she urges for an immediate answer as if there’s no time left as if midnight was chasing her to take her back to her old life.
Maybe she is being chased?
Not by time, but the hands of people who want her back in her cage they call home.
And so, her impatience and anxiety are warranted. Only her desire to venture the world away from here covers the surface of her fears.
But why?
Why is she asking me?
“Why do you want to take me with you?”
I can see no reason to bring along a child as hopeless as I am. The torn down walls, the holes in the roof, the dust and dirt that rules the floor, and the pieces of broken glasses lying around everywhere perfectly paint the summary of my life.
I am left with nothing.
I am nothing.
So, what would a girl like her, who has the sky to soar to and the horizon to pursue, gain from my presence?
Her response, “Because you are my friend.”
It brought light to the dark corners of my heart. The fog that has been staying in my mind begins to clear.
A feeling of warmth blossoms in my chest.
Her sweet smile gives me a reason to believe that maybe, just maybe I am not as hopeless as I think I am.
But it’s too late.
Midnight has caught on. It taunts me, as the gong of the clock resounds through the desolate rooms, announcing the arrival of the peak of night and the depth of the darkness.
Every grain of sand in the hourglass has fallen.
The light aura she emitted was suddenly smothered with a veil of shadow and claws from the darkness wrap around her.
She reaches out to me, her eyes desperately begging for help, her lips shout words that only pass my ear.
I can only stay rooted on this spot, unable to do anything as I watch her get taken away.
I can’t seem to look away from the dark space she left. The gaping void is intensifying as I silently will her to return, and she refuses.
A rotten chunk of wood from the ceiling falls to the ground causing dust to dance in the air.
The house is again empty.
Much like this heart.
But whose fault is it?
Looking around, I realise...
All the fingers are pointing at me.
***
A sudden jolt shakes me awake from yet another dream.
I’m still on the couch by the bedroom window. This has always been my favourite spot ever since the mansion was erected.
I must’ve drifted off to sleep while enjoying the view, which has now faded into the blackness of the night.
My eyes search around the room to look for signs of entry. There seems to be none.
Well, considering how all the people in this mansion possess feathers for feet, I wouldn’t be surprised if they somehow managed to all strut through here.
I’ve been dreaming too much of the past lately.
This must be is the side effect of the Undoing Ritual Allyn had mentioned before.
With Ryia’s spell broken, pieces of the past keep coming back to me in the form of dreams. I suppose dreams are a much better alternative to sudden visions in the hallway or like what happened this morning while I was “cooking”. I had reached for a glass of wine and somehow landed on my stomach as I stared off into the distance, almost catching the house on fire. I’ll take the dreams, creepy though they may be.
The girl in white, huh?
It’s been a while since I saw that face.
Two soft knocks on the door bother the quiet of the room.
“Come in.”
At my door, appears the prim and stoic butler. His familiar smooth gestures convince me to believe that the frail tubed man on the bed surrounded by life support was nothing but a figment of my imagination. His grey hair is combed perfectly into even sections. His gloved hand resting on his chest as he slightly bows tells nothing of the tale that happened at the lake. His face shows no sign of scar or wound, only the subtle wrinkles, and creases that speak for his age.
I smile as I cross the room and pull him into a hug. I’m relieved he’s alive. When I look at his face, I can tell he’s flushed, so I step away. Zoren has always held us in such high regard, and I know he adores me.
In his quiet manner, he announces, “Ms. Alwyn, the Guardian Witch has come.”
The visit is something I already expected, but now that it happened, the traces of Liliwen that were left in my system seem anxious, and it’s annoying that I can’t seem to shake it off.
“Where is she right now?”
“In the master’s study.”
I see. Faust already took it upon himself to welcome her.
I thank Zoren for his notice.
He gives another curt bow and leaves without a sound.
I’m sure she came here to retrieve me, and I’m sure Faust has done everything he can to delay her arrival.
And now, she’s here.
The door suddenly burst open, making my heart leap.
“You have to stay here while the master talks to the wicked witch,” I can’t believe he’s still talking to me like I’m the ignorant Liliwen.
Trying to make him change his attitude towards me, I raise a brow at him, “I know that.”
But it seems it didn’t change him at all. He casually lifts the other couch and places it beside me so that he can settle down on it.
The last time he did that in front of me, I was awed with his strength.
Now that I’m fully aware of his capabilities, nothing he does will shock me anymore.
“So, you know I could never leave you here to be bored to death, right?”
I stare at him and search for signs in his eyes that will give me a clue what he’s up to. I can’t get caught with his crazy antics without knowing how I’ll deal with the result later.
He takes something from the pocket of his trousers. When he opened his palm, a gold mechanical orb appears, something I’ve never seen before.
Sparing me the time to ask, he immediately explains, “This, my dear, is called an Oculus.”
The Oculus is plated with a gold metal outer layer. Bran gently places the Oculus on the table, and I watch intently as he focuses on the orb.
“Agored” he hisses, and the metal plating obeys his Welsh command, withdrawing its protective layers until it exposes a glass ball inside.
“This will let us peek at what’s happening inside the study,” the excited grin on his face widens as he leans back on the couch.
“If you’re wondering where I got this, he gave it to me, the same case as the portal stone ring,” he explains, and I smirk at the way he can always tell what I’m thinking without reading my mind. It’s one of the things I like most about Bran. Even though he’s not like Faust who can read my mind and emotion, he still knows me.
I look at the small clear glass device that looks like a mini version of a crystal ball. How are we going to see something through this? It’s only as big as half of Bran’s palm.
And where the heck did Faust get this? I didn’t know he’s been accepting cheap exchanges for his deals.
Smoke suddenly rises from a tiny hole in the orb, barely noticeable, and forms a shape of a room with two people in it.
Oh. So, this was the same thing in that glass case in the library? The smoke is only white in colour, so it didn’t reflect any actual colour.
“Forgive my men for attacking your friends,” wearing a collared shirt, Faust sits across Ryia with his legs cross. A coffee table stands between them with mugs brimming with what I assume is coffee. Where my demon picked up his penchant for this dirt drink is beyond me.
“They killed them,” she snaps, and I can hear her irritation.
“In their defence, you broke into our home.” He immediately responds, his casual tone only irritating her further.
“They kidnapped Liliwen,” she’s not going
to back down on this, is she?
But Faust looks more unfazed than she can ever be. He takes the time to look at the mug’s content before he answers her, “Oh, did they? As far as I'm concerned, she was invited to the mansion.”
“Then explain why my back door is broken.”
“That would be on us. You know, my dog Dain, he's not familiar with doors. He tends to break them.” Bran doesn’t bother to stop himself from bursting into laughter upon hearing Faust call Dain his dog. I roll my eyes at his immaturity at the moment, but of course, he doesn’t quite care. “I will settle and compensate you for its replacement, of course.”
“No, I don’t need that. Just give me my sister back.”
“Your sister?” There are daggers flying from Faust’s eyes as he glares at her and his expression darkens fractionally. She flinches beneath his gaze but says nothing.
“You really enjoy this sisterly act of yours, do you?” he scowls at her, making no effort to mask his disgust.
She remains quiet. No witty or demeaning come back; just silence and a gaze as deadly and intense as his challenging him in his own home.
A big mistake, sis.
I can see the sparks from someone’s fuse floating through the air, and I fear the room will explode if someone doesn’t speak or move or even blink soon.
Surprisingly, it was Ryia who breaks eye contact, “Just tell me where she is. I’ll go and get her so that we can be on our way. I really think she has already overstayed her welcome.”
I suddenly feel something cold in my hand. I look away from the smoke and find a dagger resting on my open palm.
Bran looks at me, “It’s a refined Flourite Crystal Dagger. I know you can remember its basic use, but this one can also be as good as a weapon. When it comes down to it, I want you to be able to defend yourself.”
The nonchalant Bran is nowhere to be found in the pair of piercing eyes looking back at me. He stares at me with fierce seriousness.
But I think he’s forgetting that the woman he’s talking to, the one he’s trying to protect is no longer that pathetic half-breed Liliwen.
He picks up the Oculus and grunts “cau”, and it closes. I let him take my hand to bring me outside the room.
Witch's Checkmate: Short Stories - Book Four - Witch's The Cursed Circle Series Page 2
