by K R Leikvoll
“Grand sacrifice? Who could provide that much power?” James asked with obvious interest. Vince was just as curious. Sendrys glanced sideways at Guinevere and that was all that needed to be stated.
“No. No, Sendrys. You can’t do that,” Guinevere cried in a desperate voice. I could see the regret in Sendrys’ eyes, but she shook her head.
“The price is a demonic soul. If it is not him, it would have to be you,” she replied steadily, not backing down. At that, Guinevere began to wail loudly like some sort of child. She threw herself from her chair to her knees at Vincent’s feet.
“No!” she sobbed, taking his hand while she cried. It was pitiful to watch her suffer. I could only assume that the grand sacrifice was set to be the man she had bound herself to – Kirin Maundrell. I had hardly heard any details of him beyond being notably a traitor. It made no sense to sacrifice one of our own coven when we had an enemy that could take our place. As unfortunate as it was to put Guinevere through severing her bond, it was our only choice.
“Sweet sister, I thought you agreed to do all that we required for the Void,” Vince said to her tenderly, holding her weeping face in his hands. “Maundrell is a traitor that would kill you if he could. Without him, Lux hardly stands a chance against Duskwraith. Now I ask you, are you loyal to me… or to that man-child?”
Guinevere was trembling and so distraught that she was beyond consoling. She still continued to shake her head no and mumble pleas, but Vince merely smiled at her. He kissed her forehead with false-fondness and pushed her away from his side. He gestured for Sendrys to continue despite his sister’s loud interruptions of crying.
The demonic twins were clearly entertained by the whole ordeal. I had not spent much time with the pair, but they were known for being just as fond of violence and negative emotions as Vince himself. The Kaz’moran girl, Devith, cackled and had to be smacked by Sendrys to cease. The only person besides James that seemed to care about Guinevere remotely was Sendrys. I don’t think it brought her any joy to hurt her sister.
“After the grand sacrifice takes place, the plague will spread from the Capitol, Urygal in Himmel and Uwaya in Basul. It is viral – it will kill everything that crosses its path. Even if those light-worshipping rodents manage to avoid infection, their livestock and farmlands will be lost. We may not even need an invasion to secure the continent,” Sendrys told my Master with confidence, despite her sister’s distracting bawling.
“You will have two Kaz’moran companions; how do you intend on going unnoticed?” James asked her. And he was correct. Kaz’moran were rare outside of Kaza’mae and Evya. They would attract a lot of attention in the northern, frozen realm of Himmel, or in the southern deserts of Basul.
“Yes… we will need something to cause a distraction and keep them from meddling while the talismans are placed,” Fevith stated for his master. All of us, Sendrys included, looked to Vince for answers.
“I do believe I have found a solution,” he said with a slight shrug. He pointed to Lydris further down the table. “The Divines don’t know Alvir’s one and only son is our ally. He will deter them from investigating while you complete your task.”
James and Raven appeared just as bewildered by his statement as Varnoc and I did. For anyone to trust that Lydris was capable of accomplishing anything was ludicrous. I am not sure whether he forced him on us because Vince genuinely thought that he was loyal, or if he simply liked to torment me. I already knew him well enough to know that it was likely the latter reason.
“You are suggesting high profile espionage, Master. Are you willing to trust a stranger so easily?” James needed to know. Vince and Lydris were both offended for different reasons. My Master did not like to be questioned. Lydris, on the other hand, believed himself beyond reproach.
“Pardon me? I spent my entire life in the courts of Lux and the light. If anyone here can fool them, it’s me,” Lydris spat defensively. He was so insignificant compared to the Void-blessed around him, that even Raven could not help chuckling.
“Demons cannot disobey the will of their Master, correct?” Vince snapped at us all. We lowered our gazes and stared at the table. The irritation in his tone we sought to avoid. “Lydris will become our kin, as I have already stated. That makes him more than a mere stranger, as you so put it.”
“Who is he binding to?” Sendrys asked, eyeing Lydris up and down. She was as skeptical as the rest of us, and the answer to her question? It was one I will never be able to forget.
“Lazarus.”
Words had never harmed me as much as that simple statement of my name by my Master. It almost physically stung. I flinched in disbelief. Lydris would be bound to me? I thought I would retch from how sickened I was at the thought. Varnoc was a sweet dream in comparison to my awful Evyan to be. I covered my mouth to quiet my gasps of rage and hatred.
Surprisingly, Varnoc was just as outwardly upset as I was. I understood it, too, even if I did not wish to be bound to him either. The Dark Sacrament was reserved as a high honor and gift; it was not something handed out to anyone that desired it. We both had to prove our worth in the Everglade along with our personal trials. What had Lydris done to prove himself? The entirety of the time he spent in the palace, he was drunk, smoking miyla or both. He had five consorts waiting on him hand and foot like he was actual royalty. It was irritating to watch Lydris be given freely what we had almost died to gain.
Unable to keep my emotions internal any longer, I stood from the table, drawing all of the attention in the room. “I require privacy. Leave at once.”
Everyone looked at each other, interested in what the general reaction should be. I was the prophet and the Queen, not just the Warden. They faced Treachery if they disobeyed me – it was the reason why, one by one, they all gave me a worried stare and scuttled away. James and Raven both forced Lydris to leave with them. They respected me enough to know that nobody needed to see or hear the discussion I was about to have with our Master.
“Have I upset you, beloved?” Vince asked while he poured himself a glass of wine. His attitude was already displaying warning signs. One of his hands were curled into a tight fist. Despite his seemingly calm face, the upper corner of his forehead looked mildly strained. My hatred for Lydris outweighed the fear of any reactions my Master might have.
“Lydris?” I whispered in disbelief.
“Yes. What about him?”
“Not him. Anyone but him,” I replied, unable to stop the shaking in my voice. “And if it must be him, anyone but me.”
Vince appeared as though he was puzzled as to why I felt the way I did. At the time, I thought he really did not understand. The actuality was that Lydris was a punishment for crimes I hadn’t yet committed. Bonds were eternal; I would be forced to have an uncomfortable connection to him even in undeath. I could tolerate Varnoc’s presence, but both of them simultaneously while I pined over my Master was a special form of torture. I knew before I was bound to them that it was going to wear on my mind. Perhaps that was always his biggest intention.
“Being granted the privilege of performing the Dark Sacrament is of the highest honor. You should take this as another gracious gift I have longed to give you.”
“Gift?” I asked incredulously. “That man is worth less than the dirt on the bottom of my boots. He has sought to have me from the moment we pulled him from prison – would you subject your Queen to a man that does not even hold respect for you?”
Vince scoffed softly and grabbed my hand to pull me to him. I wanted to resist, but that would not help the situation any. So, I calmly went as he wished. His smile of amusement was one that made me feel ill as he pressed his lips to my fingers.
“You believe his lust is something I should punish? It is the basis of all rituals. If mortals did not lust for the Queen of demons, you would not be much of a Demon Queen. Let go of your old notions of meaningful connections. If this world must bathe in blood as Naazvaba wishes, we have to make sacrifices. If that means opening y
our legs to my dear friend’s son so Sendrys can be assured her safety, you will do it. Is that understood?”
I was in a daze I was so angry. I wanted to grab him by his throat and strangle him until he took his words back. I was not a prostitute, nor a whore – I was a Queen. I was the prophet. I was their salvation. How could he dare to treat me as a mere consort like Ophelia? At least Varnoc held some shred of respect for me and my Master. Lydris was a completely unfaithful, self-oriented, moronic bastard. The thought of him touching me was horrid but not as horrible as the thought of feeling a form of compassion for him unwillingly.
“Perfectly,” I snapped at Vince.
Every private conversation we had was filled with some form of suffering for me. Even if he acted as though I was his beloved – that he was a true Void-worshipper – I knew his motives were malicious. The amount of strain that would come from me being bound to three people through the Dark Sacrament was enough to make our coven question my sanity. The more everyone thought I was crazy or out of my mind, the more they would look to our calm, collected Master for guidance. Only a fool would be unable to see the games he was beginning to orchestrate.
I stomped out of his presence, as much as I wanted to stand my ground with him. I could have argued until I could speak no more. I could have physically fought him if I was feeling suicidal enough. Instead, I listened to the soft voices of the shadows, drawing me away to solitude.
Solitude was always hard to find. If I was not being bugged by my family or Lydris, it was the guards and captains wandering the grounds that managed to intrude. Though one might think I was traumatized by our ritual chambers after all I endured, I actually found the space rather soothing. The demonic energy was trapped within those walls, easing me and helping me feel like I was at home in the Void.
It was dark and barren, just as before. I did not need to light the torches; my vision was perfect in the shadows. I fell to my knees in the center of the room and focused all my energy on the statues representing my Gods. Was I forsaken by them – alone with my Master? The further I meditated, the more the portal to the Void was opened to me. Did I dare to go back without knowing if I could return again?
“It will not matter who you are bound to… in the end,” the dark voice of Lord Nakarius echoed, startling me as I was very much alone.
“I don’t understand.”
“Without a guardian of Treachery, the Void could fall. If you succeed, you will not be placed with mere greater demons. Your elevated existence will keep you far from those you are bound to in life. Whether you consider that a gift or a curse is entirely up to you.”
“No Lydris… no Varnoc?” I asked the air softly, cherishing the thought of being free. “Not even… Vincent?”
“None.”
I thought Lord Nakarius’ words would bring me relief – and it did, but not as much as I would have hoped. While I sought to be unbound completely, I was too weak to fight the power of the bond in the realm of reality.
I had some time to get over losing my special companion from paradise. In fact, my version of Vince had largely become a simple daydream. Every day I spent near my real Master, my false lover faded away more and more. Vince’s blood was unlike any other in existence. None were as potent or demanding of fealty. No matter how much I coached myself to let go of my attachment to him, I couldn’t. Whether I was chasing an imaginary adaption of him, or dealing with the constant tugging on my heart of our true bond, it was impossible to picture myself without him.
It was nearing the time of my next Dark Sacrament when I noticed I was being spied on. There was a form following me through the walls, but it was deep red and unlike the shade of Evyans, so I knew it to not be Lydris. Though, even when the form was not stalking me around the palace, I still felt watched. They were educated in all manners of sneaking.
I was busy documenting the words that War chose to iterate. It whispered incantations to me, trying to show me the way to unlock more of its potential. Raven and Sendrys had instructed me to record its thoughts. It had never been used by a demon from our realm, which was confusing, as I thought James would have been the obvious choice to receive such a blessed gift.
Raven told me briefly of the fight that happened when our brother had refused to be a part of the Dark Essentia wielders. That upset our Master, naturally. Vince did not speak with James for months because of his decision. It took much pleading and pledging to convince him that he was loyal and working in his best interests. Raven did not know the true reason why James refused the weapon, but it had always been a long-term source of unrest for Vince. It was the only bit of control James managed to maintain over his long-sold soul.
I had been driving myself mentally crazy at the thought of more bonding. The dark ritual may have been less demanding than the Sacrament, but even the pull I had toward my demonic brothers was exhausting. Adding two more was a guaranteed sentence to insanity.
Sendrys and Raven had been carefully instructing and guiding me on how to conduct the ritual. They wanted me to be as prepared as possible to handle the biggest spellbinding any of us had ever endured. I did not believe it would make me stronger. The idea of someone as powerful as say… Vincent being bound to someone they were forced to obey while being connected to others he would be compelled to adore was one that would have made him weak. Maybe that was always his intention, especially with how much I did not desire to do the ritual with either of them.
The more my mind strayed to think of my hatred for Lydris, the harder it was to write. My grasp shook with the dread I felt. Thoughts of the second day of sacrifice I endured caused me to dig into the page of the tome with my quill. The rune smudged, ruining the line of spells I had been transcribing. I would have rather slit his throat than do something as unthinkable as that. Raven noticed I was losing my composure and removed the quill from my hand before I got ink on more of my work.
“There is much in motion, Lazarus. It is natural that you feel this anxiety, but have no doubts in Naazvaba. Our Gods will not forsake you, even if it seems that way,” Raven told me when he finally felt I was well enough to receive his advice.
“Mark my words… Lydris is a worm. He will betray us the moment he is put into a precarious situation. His title is one he uses to avoid wrath. I lived with cowards like him for thirty years or more,” I replied uneasily, hugging my arms across my chest at the thought.
Whether it would be to save his own life or to gain leverage, he would double cross us when it benefitted him. The mere idea that Vince was giving him the opportunity to ruin our carefully constructed plans enraged me. For someone so intelligent, he was making an idiotic mistake, but it was never about Lydris to begin with. He wished to make my life difficult and binding me to the bane of my existence was a start.
Normally, Raven might have provided me with some sullen advice if the library was as occupied as it frequently was. It was one of the few quiet hours that allowed me peace and solitude. He gave a precautionary glance around to note our privacy before he kneeled at my feet beside the table. “I know he’s dreadful, but perhaps you should change your perspective on your bond,” Raven whispered in a suggestive way I did not understand.
“What other perspective is there? He is a nightmare. This existence is a nightmare.”
Raven’s cold lips trailed up my wrist as I spoke before he peeked up at me with a sinister, calculated smile. “The bond is strong. To refuse an order from your demonic master is nearly unfathomable. Imagine the possibilities.”
“I don’t understand,” I replied warily. He gathered my face in his hands, his nails scraped my skin with the hungry desire of his thoughts.
“If he can’t refuse your will, you can do whatever you wish to him,” Raven muttered with his lips on my cheek. I drew myself away so I could read his mischievous expression. His sudden glee was abnormal, yet I was compelled.
“Stop speaking in tongues.”
My words caused him to chuckle, truly humored by me giving him th
e platform to elaborate. He pulled me into his arms as he must have felt I was too far away, but compelled or not, I was still cautious of his attitude.
“You could dispense infinite justice. Demonic bodies are very resilient,” Raven continued, kissing up my neck as if his ideas aroused him. “If you told him to pull off his fingers, he would have no choice but to do as you say. One… by… one.”
“Go on,” I whispered, running my hands through his hair. The imagined sequences playing through my mind brought me more reprieve from my situation than anything else before.
“If he is loyal, it would be a simple choice to remove his own limbs at the snap of your fingers. To bathe in acid for you. To lie in flames for you. To bury himself alive for a mere second of your time.”
His statement I understood. As pleasing as the idea of causing Lydris to torture himself was, it instilled a tremendous amount of fear in me. For if I could do that to him, did that mean my Master could do worse to me?
“You know… I have needed a more durable test subject for some time,” my companion continued, showing his hidden longing. While it would benefit me to see Lydris suffer, Raven also wanted his own needs met. After dealing with so much of Vince’s selfish mind games, I was unhappy about being forced to think of anyone’s wishes outside of my own. My reaction to his words spoke for me. Raven noticed my apprehension to agree and released his hold.
“You are the prophet. Whatever you wish for them… for others, is granted. The power of Treachery is grand in comparison to the Dark Essentia. The mere fact that you are the chosen of our Gods – of Azotl itself – should have this entire planet weeping at your feet for your favor,” he declared fearlessly.
His particular choice of words made it questionable who “others” might be, but when we stared into each other’s eyes, we both knew who he meant. His tone suggested that I had more wishes of ill-intent than to Varnoc and Lydris. He was bold – that was one of the loudest, yet indirect ways of him indicating he supported the Void’s will that Vince needed to be dealt with. I had not dared uttered a word of Naazvaba’s intentions to a single being. Whether Raven had figured it out through pure examination of my being and logic, or he took the tremendous risk to see if I was indeed meant to usurp him, I do not know. I was horrifically frightened by his words, as I thought my secrets, so carefully stored in the depths of my mind, were revealed to someone that could potentially betray me.
