by Bree De'leon
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Year: 1511 AF
“Amelia, are you alright?” Jeremiah’s voice broke through her memory; a single tear falling down her cheeks. She lifted her head from the pillow, her lavender eyes meeting his. Nodding with a weak smile.
“Is Rena alright?” she asked, he nodded. “Good. Why am I locked in here like a caged freak?” she asked, sitting up, the pillow between her knees and stomach.
“Well, a power of light burst from you, burning the vampyres skin with some sort of holy power. And one of those vampyres was...um...Sebastian.” He chuckled, her heart sank, her eyes holding no amusement, just fear. “Amelia, you know I love you, and will do anything for you.” She nodded, unable to repeat the words back to him. He was sweet and would make a proper husband for a maid such as herself, but she could not feel the love he held towards her. Her heart did not belong to anyone.
“I know, Jeremiah.” She replied, her head falling into the pillow and her knees. She may be dead before long, after all she attacked the crown prince of Arisite, and she didn’t even know the full extent of her powers. Jeremiah kissed her before he left. Running through the halls with haste to prepare the meals. He was stopped suddenly by Dymitri, his crystal blue eyes piercing into the cooks.
“You are the maid’s lover, are you not?” he asked, blocking the human’s escape. Jeremiah nodded. “Come with me please.” Dymitri’s voice was dark, a demand that left the boy shaken, walking with him, the prince smirked, opening the door to the room, the cook’s brown eyes widened with fear, as he gazed at the chains and spikes hanging from the blood-stained walls.
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The dusk was upon the city, Drake marched through the gates, his guards close behind, armed and fully armored, each sniffing out a silver scent, barging through homes dragging the hidden silvers out and persecuting both silver and smuggler of them. The citizens attempted to speak out, only to be brought down with cuffs and chains, Drake commanded his guards to dispatch any obstacle that they came across. He stood tall, his black attire trimmed perfectly to his body, laced in red silks and embroidery. The square of Casai now flooded with both citizens and prisoners, the Druids and Zenopias creating a barrier of protection for the nobleman.
“All Citizens of silver blood shall now report to the kingdom for their crimes against the crown. If you should attempt to flee, know now that you will be captured and executed in the square as an example to all those who defy and soil our kingdom.” He watched the anxiety build in the crowd, a lust sinking in his skin as he continued. “Furthermore, all silvers shall now have a curfew, each one working in the under-dark mines and dangers that could not be done by our human brethren.” His voice echoing through the square, his blood red eyes peering through the fear that held these creatures. One silver burst through the guards, only to be stopped by Drake, his black gloved hand moving with rapid speed as he clutched onto the beast’s neck.
“H-how could you do this?” The silver choked. Drake smirked, narrowing his eyes.
“You are nothing more than a slave for our amusement, silver.” Sucking the inside of his bottom lip, he tasted the power rising within him. He motioned for a guard to take the man. “In fact, you will be the first example. Hang him.” His words filled with venom as the silver was brought to the gallows, a noose being tied about, the tears streaming down his cheeks, he turned his attention to his wife and daughter. His final sight before the blackness took him. The crowd watched in horror, turning their eyes away from the gruesome death, the air cold in the middle of summer, emotions of sorrow filled the town, a darkness loomed over their heads as the city cried.
Turning on his heel, he marched back towards the castle, ignoring the outbursts and pleas, the Druids and Zenopias began to plunge through the lodgings of the citizens snuffing out the remnants of the silvers. In the distant, a howl surged through the air, splitting the wind. Stopping in his tracks, Drake turned his attention towards the increasing threat. Stoic he shouted commands for the Druids to prepare for an attack, as a pack of lycans burrowed through the gates, their teeth gnawing and snapping.
The moonlit sky, giving way for the enemies, Drake removed his sword from his shield, preparing himself against a large brown furred beast, plunging his silver laced sword in the creature’s heart, a whimper escaped its mouth, it howled once more for a second pack to attack. Turning in panic, Drake searched for an escape, only to be blocked by three wolves, each one snarling their snots steaming, in their jaws were three Druids necks, bleeding out, limp. Defending himself, he moved with lightning speed, matching his, another pack, knocking him to the ground, its large paws crushing his chest. He felt the saliva drip onto his face, the sting of the bite as it crunched down onto his shoulder, screaming in pain the nobleman shoved the beast off ripping through its heart in a single movement, his hair falling to his shoulders, the sweat dripping from his brow, he smoothed out his vest, his voice piercing through the screams, he demanded the Zenopias to sound the alarm of the intrusion. One managed to escape, ringing the bells and alerting the royals of the attack. In the square Drake continued to fight, his eyes frantic as he was burdened by more beasts. His vampiric blood rising with each victim that fell to his sword. His nose curled, as he lunged forward towards an injured wolf, digging his fangs into the creature’s jugular and ripping its throat out. A bittersweet taste kissing his lips. In moments, the other nobles gathered, each fighting back the wolves and silvers. Drake stood tall, his neck cracking as he licked his lips, the bloodlust rising within him, he felt a heat, an urge to continue killing.
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Walking the hallway, Lucille checked his watch, the quiet of the evening vanishing in an instant as the growing crowds fluttered in, within the shadows, Lucille was approached. Another servant, handed him a summons.
“Tis from the queen Anjou, she wishes to speak with you sir.” The boy stumbled.
“Very well.” Was all he said, his pale features vanishing in an instant, his lighting speed by passing the nobles and servants. He approached Anjou’s quarters, entering the queen’s quarters, his eyes wondered at the royal blue carpet that covered the marble floor, the high decorated ceiling.
“Lucille, I believe you have been informed of the situation, yes?” she asked, her slender fingers placed delicately upon her elbows, he nodded. “Good. It appears that Morena possesses a great power, one that my father held many years ago until his death in Kindred.” She paused, her serpent eyes peering into the servant.
“I had heard that she possessed a power, but not one so powerful.” He placed his white gloved hand to his chin, thinking of his mistress’s fever attacks. “It could be what was causing her fever attacks.”
“Indeed, it could. However, she nearly killed Dymitri. Which luckily to her defense he attacked her first.” Anjou agreed. “But, that is not the main issue.”
“What is the main issue my queen?” Lucille asked, his eyes hardened.
“Had she released any more of her power, she would have released him, the most dangerous creature to ever roam these lands,” Anjou answered, her eyes holding resentment. “His imprisonment in the Oblivion is a mix of the Darkstorm blood, and chains of the soulkeepers. Do you know the story?” she asked, raising a perfect eyebrow.
“I know my father fought alongside Alexis, another great lycan, but not as feared as that cursed creature,” Lucille admitted. Recalling his youth beside his father, watching in awe as a yellow blast exploded a large amount of stone from the castle, emerging from the rubble a large monster of a lycan, full black fur, with demonic yellow eyes. The image was haunting.
“Well, it was Aya and myself that used what we could to lock the beast away; but Ayas magic is fading. I am now the only one capable of holding him; but if Rena’s powers surpass my own, then I must assure she is trained properly, to assure she does not open the Oblivion prison no matter what.” Anjou finished, her eyes like steel, each one piercing through Lucille keeping him frozen in place. “Lucille, I know
you fought alongside your father, I do not blame you. But, we have summoned Simon to train the girls, since he is not here, I am asking you to train them, and help them grow.” Lucille watched her, her pale hands clutching onto a pendant, one he had seen thousands of years ago.
“I will your majesty.” He accepted, bowing, the grey in his eyes haunted, he kept his head down as he left the room. He would never let that locket go; how did she...? He thought, marching past the nobles, his head high, and his eyes focused.
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Rena sat on the mattress, counting the drops and rats that crawled in and out of the holes in the Isolation tower, her memory fogged, unable to recall what had happened. She remembered that Dymitri burst through her doors, and threatened both her and Amelia, and then she blacked out. She was locked in the Isolation tower, for what she could recall three days, her hair was a tangled mess and her dress simple and torn. The doors opened, two Druids standing beside each other, hollow eyes of veteran soldiers. In perfect unison they bowed, escorting the girl out of the tower. She felt the discomfort of the Druids, stoic in stature, but feared the powers she possessed.
“That is all that is needed of you, please leave the princess in my care.” His voice like a song in Rena’s ear as Lucille approached, in a moment she was in his arms, not giving a thought of the rumors that could spread.
“Lucille, how I have missed you so.” She cried, burying her face in his chest. His eyes softened his fingers tracing her brown cheeks and tangled raven black hair.
“It’s good to be back in your service milady.” He replied, lifting her from the ground, “Now, shall we go retrieve Amelia?” He asked, knowing that she would sneak into the tower and break the poor servant out. Rena smiled, nodding her head as she nuzzled herself closer to her butler.
They traveled up the twisting staircase, towards the East cell—there was no light, except that of dwindling candlesticks, the walls were sticky, covered in dried blood. Approaching Amelia’s cell, they stopped. Guarding her door like a vicious feral cat was Victoria.
“What are you doing here?” She hissed through clenched teeth. “She is not to see anyone until the queen has examined her.” She spat her words a threat. Rena stood straight, her eyes haunting.
“Move aside, stepmother. I have come to retrieve my belonging and should you make another threat to me and mine, I should hope you have not upset father or grandmother.” She replied coldly. Hers not a threat, but a promise.
They glared at each other, the air thickening with disregard and anguish, Rena knew that her stepmother was hurt, she could see it in her eyes.
“Be quick about it, witch.” She stepped aside, shoving passed Lucille, not an ounce of weakness shown.
What did she mean by witch? She thought, ignoring her surroundings, she watched the queen-to-be storm off down the twisting stairs. Opening the doors, seeing her maid and true friend for the first time in days.
She looked pale, paler than the moon, her eyes sunken with black shadows just like when she first brought Amelia to the palace. Rena rushed to her side, holding her close to her heart. Feeling the warmth shoot through her, Amelia clung tightly onto her friend, refusing to let go as the tears streamed down her cheeks.
“I am here now, I made you a promise, didn’t I?” Rena hardened, the thought of what they did to her maid fueled a rage inside her heart. She felt Amelia nod beneath her arms, the weak maid remembering the promise.
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Year: 1495 AF
“I promise you, Amelia that I will not let anyone harm you.” The little Rena explained, covered in bruises and blood, her leg broken with a gaping hole. The mist of the cursed forest receded back into itself, leaving them alone with only the rush of the ocean waves below.
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Year: 1511 AF
Bringing Amelia back to her sense, she stared directly into Rena’s eyes, listening, and watching her protector and rescuer. “I promise you this, I will let no one take you from me.” Her words were a warning, a promise that Amelia could not understand, why was she so important, how could she be?
“Why risk so much for me, I am just a servant? I am nothing.” Amelia’s voice broke, her tears staining the stone floor. Rena lifted her chin, all jokes and silliness gone, replaced with a serious and stern tone.
“Amelia, you are more special than I can say within these haunted walls.” She moved closer to her maid’s ear, whispering a secret that Lucille was unable to hear. Standing slowly, Lucille escorted the girls back to the palace. The shadows of the isolation tower flickered, a moan echoed faintly through the stairs.
‘Lilith...” The creature groaned, its claws reaching out, fading from flesh to shadow again, repeatedly. He felt his flesh being torn to shreds as he was dragged back into the Oblivion his screams bursting through the halls. Sensing a chill, Rena stopped once more, listening intently before she was led out of the tower and back to the palace.
9
HIS SCREAMS ECHOED through the Oblivion, the darkness circling him, encasing him in solitude. His body twisting into mist, contouring in and out of flesh, the blood dripped from his eyes as he clawed at his face, the agony of his eternal hell plunging into him. A light peered through the Oblivion, his bloodshot eyes snapped towards it, quickly moving along the cracks and chains of this hidden dimension. Outside he saw a vision of loveliness, he reached for her, scraping the walls, his claws marking the stone. He saw her turn around, her face pure, delicate like his love.
“Lilith...” He moaned, as he watched the girl stop, her eyes piercing through his heart, Blue? Anjou his thoughts banging against his skull, the girl formed into his enemy, the vampyre general who imprisoned him thousands of years ago. A lust filled him, yearning for her to free him. He needed to grab her, force her to free him. He crawled through the shadows a sudden wrench yanked him back to his prison, he was once again alone engulfed in flames and blackness.
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The attack on the square shook the entire palace, Amelia sat in Rena’s chambers, staring at the freshly pressed uniform that laid next to her. Her heart steadily calming down from the anxiety that built up. The chamber doors opened, standing quickly, she bowed, sighing with relief that it was Lucille.
“Hurry and get ready, we are training today in the arena, you must learn to manage your powers,” Lucille noted, taking notice of her frightened demeanor. “What is it?” He asked, approaching her cautiously.
“Nothing, just thinking,” Amelia replied, biting her tongue, thinking of how she came to be in the palace. “Lucille, how did you come to be in Rena’s service?” she asked, staring him directly in the eyes. His eyes fell to the ground, thinking long before he responded.
“Amelia, come sit down.” He invited, sitting beside her. His solemn expression lost in a memory. “I came to her service much like you, I was a prisoner here. Rotting in a pit of hatred and despair.” He replied, tasting his loathing return to him, knowing how the vampyres treated his kin. Her smile returned to him, a vision of her growing, each year passing as her beauty and kindness grew. “I was imprisoned for my part in a rebellion many years ago, and when she came to the palace, she refused to allow me to stay in the dungeons. She annoyed her father and grandmother so much that they just agreed to release me under strict orders that I had to be watched.” A small smile breaking through his cracked skin. Amelia watched him, his words warming his own self
“She is lucky to have found you Lucille, never forget that,” Amelia assured, her words gentle, a light dripping from her fingertips.
“Come, we must meet Rena down in the arena for training, you two have a long night ahead of you.” His authority sending chills down her spine.
“Yes sir.” She mumbled, letting her head fall to her chest in defeat, as they headed down the halls and to the isolation arena.
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The fog grew thicker, Sebastian and Alexander approached Isadora’s borders, both traveling with ungodly speed, arriving at the city
within a day, Alexander’s eyes narrowed a sickening feeling looming over him as they entered the rusted gates, the fog covering the corpses. The cathedral standing cracked and decayed in the middle of the city, the city once grand and filled with beauty, was now a hollow shell, filled with death and despair. Alexander recalled seeing a painting once, of the grand cathedral and city. Seeing this city in all its despair and hopelessness, he felt a sickness form in him, a sickness he would not forget.
“Simon, get out here now. We have urgent business in the kingdom.” Sebastian announced, standing tall, his pale features paler. Footsteps followed in the distance, a shadow of a man walking forward, splitting the fog with each step. His eye changing hues, black, white, purple, orange.
“What is it Sebastian?” The hollowness in his voice, carried around them, the man looked bored, tired even, but his soul was kindled with a flame unlike any other, black and white two figures dancing in perfect harmony. Alexander took notice, keeping his head held high.
“It concerns my daughter, her power has awakened and it is stronger than we could have imagined, we need you to train her and her maid, whose power also awakened that same day,” Sebastian replied, crossing his arms.
“The curse of Thanos, a curse passed from Darkstorm to Darkstorm, since the age of vampyres, yes, I am fully aware that she or your son may have possessed it; You brought it up in the childish letter you had your wife deliver. It appears your daughter is the strongest to hold it.” He replied, motioning for the two royals to follow him. “And what of this maid of hers you speak of, what powers are you speaking of?” He asked raising an eyebrow.
“I am not sure, it was bright, brighter than anything I have seen, more powerful than Rena’s, able to cancel hers out to be exact.”
“The Guardians blessing, very well. I will train them. How interesting, the last soulkeeper to possess such power was the Hollow King’s wife, Aya Reinhardt.” Simon answered, his face unreadable. “Tell me, and tell me true, has Morena been made aware of Nites existence?”
