by K R Leikvoll
The cries of the crowd did not exist. We merely stared into each other’s eyes. He was daring me to disobey our Lord for my selfish bloodlust. I wanted to submit to those desires and end his miserable existence, but I couldn’t. Not against my Master’s wishes. I embedded my sword into the dirt and spat in his face. My foe deserved at least that.
Varnoc never struck me as one with patience. His pride and honor were far more valuable to him than Vince’s affections, much in his Zaarian nature. Hence the reason why he launched a fist into my broken nose once more. I attempted to behead him with my sword, but my limbs froze and disobeyed my will.
“That’s enough. From hereafter, you will both be working together. A strike against your ally is treason, and you know how I deal with traitors,” my Master said to us both.
Warily, my strange, vicious opponent and I followed Vincent’s path back to the palace. We shared equally cautious looks; what fate could possibly await us? It was alien to be seen as something more than an Everglade peasant. The guards bowed their heads not only to my Lord, but to us as well. We were even greeted by the emerald-haired Holly and a familiar man I knew I had seen before.
It had been a very long time, but I could not forget his bright purple eyes, his youthful face or ostentatious fashion sense. It was the same man that had attended me in the torture chamber when I first arrived. Instead of the cold, calculated expression I associated him with, he was rather cheery to see us.
“Take Lazarus to her room and tend to her wounds,” Vince directed the man.
I tried to crane to see where my Master was taking Varnoc, but the ebony-haired man gripped my uninjured wrist firmly and pulled me after him. His dark navy robes were made of the finest fabrics I had ever seen. Silver thread embroidered wave patterns that played tricks on my eyes in the torchlight. Even his feet were covered in silken slippers, more expensive than anything I had owned in my lifetime.
It was puzzling as to why the man was leading us toward Vince’s tower at first. Only, rather than entering his room, I was led to the crystalline door on the right. To my surprise and amazement, the man opened the door and pushed me through the threshold. My Master had specifically told him to take me to my room. Upon first glance, I was in disbelief with what I had been given.
My bedroom was only a little smaller than that of my Master’s. The floors were draped with gray furs; the walls were black stone like most of the palace. A bed that could fit several people comfortably sat near a window covered in blood colored blankets and pillows. A large, gemmed chest was open at the end of the bed, stuffed full of feminine robes and gowns. Heaps of jewelry were left lying on top of a stone carved vanity. Even the mirror was laden with rubies and emeralds.
I could not speak; all I could do was stare in amazement. The man led me to a dark divan and made me sit while he searched in his deep pockets for something. I hardly paid attention to his rummaging. I was far antsier to go through the comfortable looking clothes in my chest.
“Ah, here it is. This shall heal your nose and arm,” the man said, waving a tiny vial of black liquid at me. Naturally, it caught my attention immediately because I knew very well what it contained. “My name is Raven. It is nice to meet you officially.”
All of those years, I had never put the name Raven to the face of the man I had met on my first day in Duskwraith. He was a living legend in the Everglade – the man I had based my own fighting techniques and rigorous dedication on. Not only was this luminary graciously aiding with my wounds, but he genuinely seemed interested in me. It was beyond my understanding of why he was intrigued by my presence.
“Lazarus,” I replied tentatively. He placed the vial in my palm and gave me permission with a slight nod. I could not help my hand shaking from anticipation while I unscrewed the lid.
Raven dug around in my gleaming chest until he removed a spare cloth to clean my face with. Meanwhile, I swallowed the hallowed blood of my Master, which tasted just as sweet and wonderful as every time before. My companion held my nose still as Vince’s blood went to work on healing the fractures of my face and wrist. It was an uncomfortable sensation, but I endured it until I was left in perfect condition. Perhaps my nose was even more set and straight than before.
“Here in our Master’s palace, the rules are very simple. Do what you are told, respect your elders, and honor our family. As my new coven sister, let me give you some advice: it is far better to endure our Lord’s covets than it is to resist. That will only lead you to your own grave.
“We do not eat together often, but on occasions, our Master has been known to have dinner parties. Such as tonight, for example. Dress appropriately, then you can meet us in the dining hall. It would do you well not to keep him waiting.”
And so, with that, Raven left me alone in my new bedroom to prepare for whatever Vince had planned. As I searched through all the gowns and robes I had been gifted, I thought not of the dinner, but more of what I thought my Master would want to see me in afterward. I sought his touch more than anything else, especially after a taste of his sweet blood.
I decided on a soft gold and black robe, not unlike the one Vince had worn the night previously. It was one of the most expensive things I had ever touched; the sensation of it against my skin was almost overwhelming. Despite how much I despised what the Everglade had done to my appearance, I still took the time to tidy my thin face in the mirror. I fumbled with my new jewels, trying several pieces on before I decided on a ruby embroidered choker. It helped me from looking overly malnourished.
After I finished brushing out my braids and obsessing over my face, I left my room cautiously. It was odd to be wandering the halls without an accompanying guard or my Master himself. It felt as though I was sneaking or doing something which I was prohibited from. I made my way down the staircase, following the path I had learned toward the formal dining room. Truthfully, I did not know which place we were meeting in exactly; instead, I followed my Master’s call.
It was not a verbal call. It was his thick aura of energy that seemed to radiate from where ever he was at any time. At that moment, I did not know it was our pre-Sacramental bond that drew me to him. I thought that I had simply remembered where the formal dining room was.
I did not know what to expect as I entered the threshold of the room. I was seemingly the last person to arrive, as there was only one unoccupied seat available for me to take. The table was filled with both people I knew and some I had never seen before.
Naturally, my Master sat at the head of the table. He had changed into an onyx colored tunic and pants that flattered him as most things did. It took every part of me to look at the other table’s patrons, as I was completely content to only look upon him.
To his right sat Sendrys, accompanied by a peculiar pair to her side. Both were Kaz’moran; I could tell by how small and childlike they appeared. One was female, the other was male – though they looked so similar I had to assume they were kin. Both had short, pointed ears, light pink skin and purple eyes. Despite the fact that their irises were the same shade as Sendrys’ or Raven’s, their Kaz’moran blood made them look more like a window to the night sky. The only noticeable difference between the pair was their hair color. The male was endowed with locks the shade of an amethyst. His twin had light blue hair that reminded me of an icy mirror. They wore similar plum robes much simpler than that of the others at the table.
To their immediate right was a Naadean woman I had never seen or heard of before. She wore a gown of the darkest navy; it may have appeared black to those with weak eyesight. Her breasts were colossal and nearly poured out of her corset which was tied far too tight. I could tell by her long, golden hair and smaller facial features that she was from the Luxian Empire. The only thing that struck me that she may be of mixed descent was the size of her eyes. They were very large and light red, almost rose in shade. Her lips were pursed and her hands were tightly folded as if she were irritated.
On my Master’s left was his eldest companion
, James. Though I had only seen him once before, I instantly recognized his doll face and curiously kind smile. His clothes were disparate from everyone else; he wore frayed training gear, which meant he must have been out sparring before. Despite that, nobody seemed to notice nor care that he was underdressed for the occasion.
Beside him sat Raven, who was patting the empty chair between himself and Varnoc encouragingly to get me to sit down. My opponent from the arena appeared just as uncomfortable as myself. It was if we were in the den of a hungry katoma. He was out of place in his own luxurious, ruby colored clothing.
Warily, I sat between Raven and Varnoc in a seat that was more comfortable than the bed I had been sleeping in for years. My Master looked carefully at each person before lightly tapping his fingertip on the table. The noise it made was miniscule, but it was enough to instantly quiet the room.
“Let me be the first to welcome our new family members,” Vince said graciously to all of the room’s occupants. “My precious Lazarus Lyon, a treasure all the way from A’roha, who I have waited for so long to join us.”
Each person looked at me with their own unique reaction. James grinned and waved slightly, which appeared oddly oxymoronic for him. Raven’s eyes glimmered with interest. Sendrys was searching me for something I was unsure of. The twins seemed bored. The blonde woman gave me no more than an uncomfortable smile. She appeared as frightened to be at the table as myself.
I expected my Lord to introduce Varnoc, but instead he turned his attention to Ophelia who brought in golden chalices for every person. At the time, I thought that the palace would be bustling with servants and slaves. It was rather empty beyond the guards. It would not take me long to understand why. Both his lack of recognition for Varnoc, and the reduced number of workers in the palace were very much related.
Vince was never tolerant of outsiders, or those he deemed lowborn. Any from the Empire of Zaar, whether they were Zaarian or Dryads that had fled centuries ago, were seen as vermin to him. Perhaps it was because the Zaarians had fought to claim much of Femoran territory in past wars; perhaps it was because they were considered uncivilized and half-witted.
Most of the servants that would have been used were either Zaarian or Dryad. He much preferred to keep them in his armies and the Everglade where he would never have to look upon them and feel disgusted. I had spent many years living with them. No matter how rough they may have appeared to Evyans, they truly were a unique race of being. It would take time, even after the Everglade, for me to learn that I rather liked them despite my Master’s opinion.
After the chalices were given to every occupant, she returned with a large vase full of a mysterious liquid. It took her several moments to fill each glass, as the vase was cumbersome and full. Blood colored liquid reflected my appearance back to me.
“Today is a day of celebration, my dearest family. After so many long years of waiting for my next protégé to show themselves, it has finally come. Lazarus is prepared to enter the fray for the next phase of our plans as Warden,” Vince stated to the table. He held his chalice up in honor of me.
I was truly speechless at his words. A Warden; how absurd! I knew how to handle myself in brawls, but not war with an army of seasoned warriors at that. I did not want to accept such a title; not out of disrespect, but because it was a job I was far underqualified for. I knew nothing of tactical warfare, nor anything of being a guardian.
“This girl… she is untested. Are you truly so confident of her abilities?” Sendrys asked in her accented voice. It was a mixture of a Basulian and Duskwraith dialect that had slowly developed over her course of living far away from home. I could understand her, though not as clearly as everyone else.
“Indeed, sister. Any untrained mutt can be turned into the most subservient beast if it is taught the way. She has esteemed leaders around her. If she cannot learn from the best, I would be rather disappointed,” he replied.
With that, regardless of my opinion or desire to be the Warden, Vince tipped his head to everyone, signaling that they toast in return. Each of us raised our glasses; Varnoc and I a bit more hesitantly. My Master tipped the liquid into his mouth and glowered over his glass, waiting for everyone to drink in return.
I glanced at Varnoc, incredibly unsure for a moment. It was not the same shade as Vince’s blood, nor was it the magical wine from the previous night. Still though, I would not dare be looked upon as less favorable than my opponent beside me. I took a sip, trying not to appear reluctant. It tasted like blood, but not my lover’s. It was foul; metallic and slightly tangy. I attempted to swallow it without grimacing, only barely managing. Varnoc almost coughed, but he did not dare make a noise in the other’s presences.
Everyone else drank their fill and waited for another glass. Minor conversation ensued between the twins and Sendrys. James and the blonde talked across the table at each other about mundane things. I focused on my hands, glancing for brief moments at my Master’s angelic face whenever he was looking away. It was such an odd sensation to be taken from poverty and seated in expensive gowns drinking blood! I could not begin to make conversation; for what could I possibly have in common with them? Raven did not seem as intimidating as the others, but I still held my tongue.
Food was brought on steaming plates for only a few of us. Varnoc and I both got helpings that would have fed us for three days in the Everglade. James and the female Kaz’moran ate on smaller dishes savoring each piece as if they were tasting wine. I tried to eat neatly and with the best manners I knew. Varnoc, on the other hand, was quite content to eat like a savage, even in his hesitance. I wanted to cringe with how callously he ate food with his hands rather than utensils. He was only reinforcing the Zaarian stereotype as a savage to our Lord.
We finished our food and waited for a long period of time for my Master to finish his conversation with Sendrys. It was done in hushed voices about something that was not my business, so I did not pry. I sat in silence, fantasizing over Vince and what might await me in the evening. None of those fantasies were to come true that night though, for my Master had other plans in motion.
“I would not simply grant you these titles, sweet Lazarus, without first testing your will. Your true trial begins now; everything before was preliminary. If you wish to keep your new lifestyle and family, you must prove yourself worthy. Your task is meek: you will travel down to the southern coastline to look for this troupe you spoke of encroaching on my land. Bring the leader to me alive and meet James at our central border encampment. You will be a part of negotiations with the Zaarian Emperor. Learn all you can; nobody will save you should you get into trouble. Do this, and it will help sway my favor,” my Master told me in front of everyone.
“Stonebreaker will follow you and assist you as your comrade. Grow to trust each other. I will not spare any more of my military to assist your expeditions,” Vince continued to Varnoc. It was only implied at that moment that I was his superior, as he offered no more words on the topic.
My Master stood to his feet and began to exit the dining room, glancing back at all of us expectantly. Unsure, Varnoc and I followed, but nobody else did. It was confusing to depart with my beloved and my Zaarian opponent. We walked up the central staircase toward the throne room.
We approached the armory, where Vince opened a solid black door with his hand. The opening peeled away in triangular shapes, much like magic. I watched completely awestruck as did Varnoc. Our awe was even more intensified when we stepped into the dimly lit corridor. It was filled to the brim with weapons of every variety. The craftsmanship was beyond my own capabilities, even after years of practice. Varnoc appreciated them as much as I did. We both ran our fingers over different blades as we passed them.
Vince stopped toward the end and coaxed us closer. He summoned a black box from the stone without using his hands, only his mind. The intricate silver lock on the outside clicked loudly and opened with a crack. Rather than opening the box himself, my Master turned to me and motioned for me
to reach inside. I had no reason not to trust him, so I did as he wanted. Something rather cold fit in my grasp. It was wide and long. I hesitantly pulled it from the box.
In my hands was one of the most beautiful weapons I had ever seen. A bow, made of not wood nor metal. Instead, it was clear and crystalline. It had a reddish tint, but it was still see-through. It was light and incredibly sturdy. The drawstring was made of an ebon twine thick enough to handle multiple arrows at once. I dropped to my knees to kneel in front of Vincent.
“This is the most beautiful gift I have ever received,” I whispered in a hoarse voice. I was overcome with emotions. A new family, a new place to live, new clothing, a new lover, new weapons. What more could I have asked for? In truth, much more.
“Its name is Azmordia’s Misery,” my Master said as he helped me to my feet. His grip remained tightly around my waist and he looked into my eyes with tenderness, despite Varnoc’s presence. “And it is not the most beautiful gift you will receive, my beloved.”
I thought Vince might kiss me; our lips nearly touched, but his brow furrowed and he turned to Varnoc instead. Our embrace ended too soon. My Master removed a quiver full of crystalline arrows and handed them to me.
“Misery fires silently, and the curse laid upon it is lifestealing. Your foes may flee, but it will be for naught when they lose their will to survive and succumb to their injuries. May it serve you well,” my Master said bowing his head slightly to me. The respect he was giving me was beyond my ability to handle. I did not for a single moment regret the vermillion haired prisoner’s death. It was the greatest trade I had ever made.
My Master proceeded to give Varnoc a massive axe, overloaded with silver and gems. It was beautiful, definitely Evyan craftsmanship, but made for a Zaarian or perhaps the Himmelish. It was far too large to be for a Femoran or Kaz’moran. Varnoc swung it a few times in his grasp, making me step back sharply to avoid being chopped in half. Vince thought it was amusing and actually laughed.
