The girl looked up at me, and she seemed to pull herself out of her sadness. “Tell me, what is the year?”
Ah, hell. She’s not going to like my answer. “It’s Tuesday, the fifteenth of July.”
She harrumphed. “More human words. What is the year?”
“The twenty-ninth year.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Sorry about that,” I said sheepishly. “It's the best I can do. All I can tell you is how long it’s been since we arrived here.”
“That isn’t helpful. Surely you must have a record of history, of time, yes?” she asked, uncoiling herself to sit cross-legged on the floor.
Her gray clothing was torn and threadbare, showing off too much of her pale flesh. Her once-cotton pants had been torn to her thighs, leaving most of her legs bare.
“Unfortunately, not. There isn’t much in the way of history here. Plenty of books on magic or monsters, but very little regarding history. What we do have is a few stories and word of mouth.”
I’d never paid attention to what little history we had in this world since there wasn’t an accurate reference for time and recorded events. I had more important things to focus on, and besides, most of the history of this world were stories carried by the dwarves and the elves whose lives measured in the centuries. Though all of it was mired in hearsay and conjecture—and getting an elf to open up to you was about as easy as fighting a manticore with just your fists.
My answer hadn’t pleased her, and she frowned slightly. “Your lacking frame of time aside, I feel like it has been centuries since I was sealed away, maybe longer."
She held her hand out in front of her; fingers splayed out. For a time, nothing happened. Her face grew sterner, and more scrunched as she concentrated on her hand. It was as if she were focusing her entire being on that one task.
Slowly, ever so slowly, the air changed. It started with a faint whiff of pine needles and wood rot. Not unpleasant by itself, but as the smell intensified, dark green smoke dribbled out from each of her fingertips, mixing and slipping aimlessly to the floor.
Then as abrupt as it appeared, it stopped and what remained slowly dissipated into the cracks in the stone. I was stunned by the display, at the verdant mist as it swirled and broke when it touched the ground, but I looked up to see tears of frustration in her eyes. They slid down her cheeks as she fought back a scream.
“Weak. I’m weak, even more so now.”
“Why are you weak? And what was that just now? I’ve never seen anything like it.”
She barked a sarcastic laugh. It twisted her beautiful voice into something dark and ugly. “Behold my power. Nothing more than a few drops of magic, that's all I’m able to muster. All that time imprisoned has stunted my growth even further, it seems.”
Wait, hold up. That was what? “Did you just use magic?” I asked.
She jerked her head, nodding, as she ground her teeth.
“How did you just do that?”
That got her attention, enough to snap her out of her anger. She looked up, confused. “What do you mean?”
“You said you just used magic?”
“Pathetic, right?”
“What?” I shook my head. “Never mind. How did you use magic without Script?”
She cocked her head to the side again, much in the way a dog does at something it doesn’t understand. “What’s that?”
“The language of magic. You can’t cast spells without it.”
There has to be some form of tangibility to magic. You can’t cast magic without a Script circle or incantation. She still held a look of confusion on her face at my words.
She leaned over on all fours and crawled toward me. She moved lazily, but it was sudden enough that she was nearly in my face before I realized what was going on. It startled me, and I went to back up, but my balance was wrong, and I ended up falling on my ass.
It seemed personal space didn’t mean anything to her, as she kept going forward, our faces were close enough that I could count the number of hexagons in her large eyes. Her eyes lit up at my unease, and she laughed softly. Her laugh was bright and musical; it filled the room and brushed against my skin like a physical touch, sending goosebumps up my arm. It was soothing to hear, like an old, favorite piece of music I hadn’t listened to in years.
As the laughter faded, she smiled once more at me. “Really, Duran, don’t be absurd. I am not one of the lesser races. Magic is in my very blood.”
Odd, so she doesn’t use Script to cast…but, maybe that strange smoke acts as the catalyst for her magic. There has—
“Hold up! You just said my name!”
I hadn’t told her my name, and she hadn’t told me hers. How the hell does she know it? I backed up, suddenly realizing that I knew nothing about this girl, and she was inches from me. I’d let my guard down, something I never did, but I didn’t get far as my back hit one of the wooden chests that lined the room a few seconds later.
She didn’t move closer right away, staying a respectful distance apart, still on all fours, looking at me strangely. “You seem wary of me, why?”
“You just said my fucking name!”
“Of course,” she said.
“How did you know it?”
She was tired of maintaining her distance as she crawled towards me. Refusing to answer my question, which sent me into panic mode. I tried to back away on pure instinct, but I was pinned by the chest, and she covered the short distance in a second.
She was close again. Too close.
“You told me...or rather, your soul did.”
What now? It was such a ridiculous statement that it took me out of the situation. I forgot to be cautious of this girl; she’d certainly grabbed my attention. What the hell does that even mean?
“Would you care to explain that last part?”
She knelt between my legs, sitting back to rest on her heels. Still closer than I liked, but her hands folded around her slight chest.
She’d sensed my frantic emotional state and was attempting to appear as non-threatening as possible. Her calmness was contagious, and it helped to ease some of my abject panic, but the question still hung in the air. Once I’d calmed myself to her satisfaction, she spoke.
“I’m sorry, that was probably a bad way to put that. You humans hold such high value on that word, but what I meant was I simply got a glimpse at you when you first touched my prison; your memories, your actions, the things that make you who you are. They’re what form your soul.”
“Yeah, that's not creepy in the slightest,” I said and couldn’t keep the bitterness from my voice “And what did my soul tell you?”
Nothing good, I expect. I’ve done too many horrible things to be good anymore. I’m nothing but the last gasping breath of a dead man.
I was dead; my mind just hadn’t caught up yet.
Her features softened, holding sorrow and pity for my sake. Here was someone who’d spent centuries locked away, and she was concerned for me. I wasn’t worth her compassion.
Even still, she smiled at me, and it was a kind smile. Placing a hand on my own, she gave mine a quick squeeze. It didn’t jolt me this time, but it was still so warm. “I saw your pain. The guilt and anguish that tears at you every single day. It was just a glimpse, but I saw many of the awful things you’ve done, and the good.”
“There's nothing good about me,” I spat. “Not anymore.”
She held my hand tighter, and the heat radiating from it grew even hotter, taking away the chill of the cold stone underneath me. “I don’t think that’s true, not really. Your cruelty is logical in a way. Past the brutality is a kind man who cares deeply for his friends. Everything you do is for them.”
“You’re wrong,” I snapped.
“I’m not, and I think deep down, you know that.”
A part of me was furious. Furious at her for seeing my innermost being. The monster I’d become. Though another part of me was elated at her words. Whether I wanted her to see my
true self or not, she had. Seen my soul laid bare…and she’s not running away.
The girl lowered her eyes from me and blushed. “It’s the reason why I’ve chosen you to be my master.”
Wait, run that by me again. “I’m sorry, would you mind repeating that?”
She frowned, and it was kind of adorable, almost like pouting. “I’d rather not. You heard what I said, and it's embarrassing enough already.”
I shook my head, standing up, using the chest behind me as a chair. The wood creaked as my weight settled. “I’m nobody’s master. Not going to happen.”
Her frown deepened, turning to a scowl. “Believe me, I’m not thrilled about the thought of selling myself into slavery either, but I don’t have a choice.”
Hell, no! I’m no slaver. Not going to happen! Unlike the Alliance, I’d never held with the practice. Even though it was the single most profitable business on the Isle of Nexus, I never took part. Humans were illegal to enslave, but the other races, the elves, and dwarves, along with the rabbitmen and wolfmen, were fair game in the eyes of the Merchants Guild.
And the Alliance wonders why tensions between the kingdoms are so high.
“I’m not going to be your master, so forget it,” I said and stood up from the chest.
I walked past the girl, who kept her gaze at my back as I went over to the vault door, taking the key out of my pocket in the process. I turned back to her.
“Look, I don’t know anything about you, but you’ve obviously lived a rough life. If you want, you can stay here. We have more than enough room. Or, if you want to leave, I’ll give you whatever you need, and you can go and find your people, wherever they might be.”
I placed the key in the lock and twisted. She stood up from the floor to look at me with steel in her gaze. “That’s kind of you to offer, but irrelevant. If you don’t accept the pact, then I will die.”
My hand froze halfway from pulling out the key. “Godsdamn it,” I muttered. Of course, it wasn’t going to be that simple. She’s probably lying, anyway.
I took the key out, leaving the door unlocked and sighed. Damn it. “All right, I’ll bite. Why will you die if I don’t accept?”
Her face darkened, holding such conflicting emotions. Rage, sadness, and misery all ran through her eyes, while venom dripped from every word. “I wasn’t sealed away for nearly a millennium for my own benefit. I was cursed. Sentenced to the void by black magic, but that wasn’t a good enough punishment, it seems, as I’m also bound to whoever I choose to free me.”
She chooses her master, so that means she could have been freed before now. “Why stay imprisoned if you could have been free?”
She scoffed at me. “It’s exceedingly rare for anyone to touch the crystal, as it requires a tear in the void to allow me to escape that wretched place. You are only the eighth person to hold it since I was sealed away.”
“Seven others, so surely one of them would have been better than me.”
A harsh bark of laughter echoed from her lips. “How wrong you are. You may think yourself a monster, but your actions have nothing on them. Tainted souls, all of them. Murderers, betrayers, thieves, and rapists. Those who would have used and discarded me without a second’s hesitation.”
She crossed the room to stand before me, the top of her head barely reaching my chest, and she was forced to stand on her tiptoes to reach my cheek. Her hand was like fire on my face, a few degrees away from burning me, but I didn’t mind the pain.
She smiled at me, a truly genuine smile, with respect in her eyes. “You are the first person in a thousand years that wouldn’t have abused me. You are worthy of being my master, as distasteful as we both find the prospect.”
I sighed, being the best out of thieves and killers wasn’t much to boast about—I’d been both of those at one point or another—but I’d already resigned myself to fate. I didn’t want to be her master, but nothing she told me reeked of deception.
She wasn’t lying, or if she was, she was better at it than anyone I’d ever seen. Either way, I wasn’t willing to risk her death by saying no.
“Fine. I hate it, but I’ll do it.”
A bittersweet smile flickered as I spoke. “I need you to say it.”
“Say what?”
“That you accept me.”
I grumbled at her, which cause a snort of laughter. “I...I accept you.”
The moment I uttered those words, a bitter chill rose from my chest to squeeze my heart and freeze my blood. As if a hand made from pure ice was trying to crush my heart. After a second and a lifetime, the hand released me, and I fell to my knees, trying to catch my breath, clutching at my chest, where the frost lingered still.
I looked up to see her in similar straits; she wore a pained expression as she stumbled, trying to keep from falling over.
“By the nine kings of Hell, what was that?”
She gasped, trying to speak. “The accepting of the pact. It should fade in a few moments…hopefully.”
After that, the strain was too much for her, and she toppled over. I was clumsy in the catch, just managing to grab her before her head cracked against the stone. On instinct, I cradled her against me and fell on my shoulder, knocking the side of my head on the table in the process. After the fall, I managed to scoot up to lean against the brass table leg.
The girl was still in my arms, eyes shut, breathing deeply. I let her rest. Besides, she was deceptively heavy. For a girl who looked like she weighed little more than a hundred pounds, she had some heft.
A good portion of her skin was uncovered from her threadbare clothes, and her legs were smooth and looked soft. Curiosity got the better of me, and I poked her leg. It was just as I thought and as heated as her hands, but below the softness of her skin, lay something firm, much harder than any muscle should ever be.
“Hmm.” There’s more to her than meets the eye; it feels like armor beneath her skin, but how?
My question would have to wait, as I found her looking up at me with a peculiar expression on her face. My hand still very much on her thigh. I jerked away, flushed with embarrassment. “Ah, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”
“I don’t mind. Your hand feels nice, and you are my master now. You can touch me as much as you want.”
Nope! Nope! Nope! I pulled away from her, she seemed to have regained enough of her strength to sit up by herself, so I hurried out from under her and slid a couple of feet away. “Let's get one thing straight, what I did, I did to save your life—nothing more, nothing less. I am not, nor will I ever be your master. So don’t call me that.”
She beamed at me. “Excellent! I knew you were the right choice.” She stood up from the floor, still a little shaky, using the lip of the table to balance herself.
“Wait, was that a test?”
She slid me a wink. “Maybe.”
The girl found her balance and moved away from the table, stretching languidly, her arms outstretched and back arched. “Oh, by the void, that feels amazing. You have no idea how good it feels to be able to feel my body again after all this time. Now, let's try this again.”
She concentrated, bringing her hands in front of her, focusing on her fingers. Once more, green smoke dripped to the ground, bringing more scents from the forest. Slowly, second by second, it grew from a trickle to a stream. Still small, but enough that she smiled.
“I can feel them. They recognize me and are excited.”
“You lost me, who are you talking about?” I asked.
“My little ones, all the descendants of the Hive.”
Suddenly a veritable horde of insects and spiders came crawling out of the stone—hundreds of all kinds of creepy crawlies with too many legs and eyes. Spiders and ants, with a few centipedes and cockroaches thrown in the mix for good measure. The slithered and swarmed from beneath the stone to scurry towards their queen. The Hive Queen.
“Fuck me!’ I screamed, jumping back and scrambling on top of the table to get out of the way of the
swarm.
Absolute terror pierced my heart, and I couldn’t breathe, could barely think. All I wanted was to flee from the room and never return. The creatures scuttled over the stone and rug to crawl over her feet and up her legs.
She wore the brightest smile I’d seen on her yet. She loved them, keeling down to let them run up and down her arms as if they were adorable little things instead of my worst nightmares. I was about to run, for I couldn’t stand to be there for another second when she looked at me and smiled.
“Trust me.”
I was about to tell her to fuck off, but the look in her eyes stopped me. It was pure radiant joy. Those two words calmed my phobia enough that I just sat cross-legged on the table while she played. She kept going for several minutes until she started to look a bit ragged and worn out.
She still wore her smile, but her hands trembled and her breathing deepened, sweat started to bead and drip down her neck. Mana depletion. She's running on fumes.
“Hey, you’re about to collapse. Stop the spell.”
She looked up, suddenly realizing the truth of my words. She nodded, and the smoke faded from her hands. As it disappeared, so too did the insects.
They scurried off, back to their homes in the dark.
After a couple more seconds, only the two of us remained in the room. As soon as the flow of mana stopped, she sagged, exhausted. I thought she was about to collapse again, but she held up her hand.
“I’m fine, just give me a minute.”
She leaned over the table, her breath coming in great gulps. The table supported her easily, but her arms still shook from fatigue. I pulled out a mana potion and offered it to her.
“Thank you,” she mumbled and took a few tentative sips until her strength returned. When she knew it wouldn’t come back up, she finished off the bottle, and a little color returned to her cheeks. She stood up from the table, managing to support herself and chuckled. “That was foolish of me.”
“Yeah, it was,” I agreed, “But more importantly, what kind of magic was that? What are you?”
She looked up at me with a small, very sad smile. “I’m an entomancer, the last of my kind."
Hive Knight: A Dark Fantasy LitRPG (Trinity of the Hive Book 1) Page 13
