Legends of Astræa_Cupid's Arrow

by Sophia Alessandrini

  “The Strzyga kingdom is a kingdom that has no country, boundaries, or territories like most kingdoms. The kingdom rules solely the ancient race of immortals we recognize as pureblood Strzyga.” He paused and sighed. There was so much weight in that sigh, as if the kingdom depended on him and this moment here, with me.

  It was not only difficult to accept I had parents after thinking I was an orphan my entire life, but to also find out I was an aristocrat of some exclusive kingdom nobody had ever heard of full of immortals—who, by the way, were not of the human species—was plain ludicrous. Not human. Crap.

  “The kingdom, as you can imagine, has multiple enemies. But the most concerning of the situations is the fact that our race is cursed,” he said and continued eating his food.

  What? So then I was evil? I gasped.

  Not that kind of cursed. And you aren’t evil. On the bright side, you don’t get to drool during full moon, Gavril said sarcastically. And once again, carrying this conversation simultaneously was giving me a migraine. Crap!

  Right. You must know, since you are a werewolf. I gave him a serious glare. But in all reality, I was a hypocrite when… well, if I could not even accept myself as another nonhuman. I wiped my dumb tears and impatiently waited for Mr. Know-It-All to tell me more, but he seemed to be taking his time to enjoy his food.

  Well, that and the fact that your kind and my kind don’t get along too well. It gives us the obligation to study our counterparts, Gavril said.

  Crap… My anxiety had taken a whole new meaning. I inhaled and straightened my spine. Now, I was so self-conscious that even the distorted image on the silver spoon in my hand made me check if I had suddenly grown horns or fangs.

  So you are using me to spy on us?

  Ailie, we have lived for the last centuries hidden from your kind, Gavril said to me, nuzzling my hands over my lap. He continued. Your people have almost annihilated my people. He sighed, looking at me with those puppy-adorable eyes. You know you can trust me. He tried to convince me, but I couldn’t. Not anymore. Trust no one.

  Can I trust you? Let me think, you happen to know a lot about me, and I know zip, nada about you—

  That is not true. You know my only secret. The one I’ve told no one before.

  That your second name is Cornelius, or that you are a werewolf? I rolled my eyes. Why are you really here? I asked him.

  I am not allowed to tell you much, but it is my job to protect you. Wherever you go, I’ll go, and I will protect you, Gavril said. And NO—I am not a spy.

  But I was a—job? Didn’t you just say yester—Ugh. Never mind… NO. I changed my mind. Someone has to tell you that you are a walking, talking contradiction, and frankly I don’t know whether you are my friend or not. On purpose, I took a bite of the chicken that had no flavor.

  He whimpered. God, he was so infuriating.

  Ailie, you are my best friend. I… I, Gavril stuttered, unable to bring himself to say something, but he changed his mind. Look, I don’t know how to tell you how grateful I am to you. His words caught me by surprise. I had no clue what was he talking about. You brought my soul back to me. You released it. I don’t know how, but you did… that one time when you healed my broken paw.

  You are joking. I was surprised at this. I tried to bring that day forward in my head. However, he was being sincere. How can this be? You are still a werewolf, aren’t you?

  I recalled that day, the image of something that resembled a cute little soap bubble floating into him as I was healing him. I never thought much of it after then. That had been the time I had fallen very weak and sick after I healed him. Gavril had sneaked into my room that week to visit me. Mother Clarisse had been worried sick for me. “No doctors. We cannot trust anyone,” she had said over and over, but I can’t recall to whom she had said those words. My powers hadn’t grown strong like they did now. I wished I had understood this little fact and told Mother Clarisse before she died, perhaps I could have saved her life. Regret consumed my being, so I avoided thinking about it.

  Ailie, I am very serious. Look, I know I said I was a werewolf, but the truth is that I was a werewolf when I first met you, just like my brother. We were both bitten by another werewolf who was the leader of the pack—

  I thought your big brother was the alpha of your pack?

  Yes, he won the position many years ago… but the thing is, I am no longer a cursed werewolf. Instead, I became a shifter, and because of you, I don’t drool on the full moon. More importantly, I won’t end up in hell if I die, Gavril said. I sighed, feeling dreadfully inadequate. I wasn’t expecting this kind of thing from him.

  So, you are not telling me all this because you would do anything for the chicken?

  It was Gavril’s turn to roll his eyes.

  Nevertheless, the thought of him as a former cursed beast was not exactly congruent with the thought of him as Gavril, my strange and only friend. Really, I didn’t know if he was there because I was his job. Although I have known him for a long time, I had no clue who he really was, even if I happened to know what he was. I realized I had never questioned as much. I was just happy to have him as my only friend. He didn’t judge my freakiness, and by the same token, I never questioned more than I should.

  Why were Strzyga cursed? Apparently, it was for eternity, since we were immortal. Crap. Just fantastic. This day was turning worse and worse. Mr. Tarbelli’s voice shook me from my stunning panic.

  “Our race suffers from an ailment.” He drank water, pausing for the duration of one sip, then he turned his attention on me. “For the last ten centuries, our kind has been mostly originating male progeny. There are very few bearing female Strzyga in the world left to continue the bloodlines.”

  “How many are left?” I asked, understanding I was one of them.

  His stare became intense. “Two.” He paused for me to understand the implication.

  I was one of them. No way!

  “By Strzyga law, as a female Strzyga, your immortality isn’t bestowed until you reach thirty—your age limit to bear children. Once a female becomes an immortal Strzyga, your ability to bear children will end with the immortality ritual.”

  Fantastic. So I had to wait until I was thirty years old to drink blood and have pointy fangs and wings. I couldn’t wait. Not really.

  “Unlike male Strzyga, who may go through the transition earlier than thirty. However, it isn’t practical looking too young while we hold power positions and businesses. Also, it seemed fair and natural in the past, for our females, that we become immortals sharing in common our ages,” he explained, pausing to see if I was catching up.

  I wasn’t. The truth was that the thought of not human, immortal, and then destined to bear children because I was one of two Strzyga girls left in the world was a tad too much to digest in one dinner sit down. I was only sixteen.

  “Two.” My voice was barely a whisper to myself, as I sat there looking at Mr. Tarbelli.

  “That number will reduce to one next year.”

  Scratch two, that leaves only… Oh, my—me.

  No pressure—none at all.

  Chapter 19

  Extinction!

  The Strzyga race was on the verge of extinction.

  Was this day almost over?

  I just wanted to be human again, and I wanted this… this day to stop—to be over. Crap. I wanted to be a human again—a regular one at that. And I didn’t want to be afraid of evil or of saying hell or of being just me—Ailie.

  “Once we reach France, we will start with your training at home,” Mr. Tarbelli said, changing the subject and my endless mental torture. Home? I wouldn’t know one, but his offer didn’t warm up to me. I was too suspicious.

  “Training?” I arched my brow at him.

  “I shall teach you various disciplines and essential skills that shall fortify your body as a weapon, clear your mind, and subsequently control your power. You shall also master all manner of weapons, including the making of explosives and poisons.” He w
as trying to enlighten me with a firm but gentle voice, as if I was buying the fact that he considered those essential skills of some sort. Right.

  Whoa, whoa. Poisons? Explosives? I didn’t see that one coming, Gavril said.

  The image of him as my teacher was so uptight and stuffy, it was literally impossible to label him inside my head as unconventional and dangerous—even now in his fine tailored suit and expensive shoes.

  “Mr. Tarbelli, are you a professional assassin?”

  We all heard Andrei choking on his food again. I sighed. Gavril snorted amusedly. Mr. Tarbelli narrowed his eyes and gave Gavril another of his murderous glares.

  If you do not wish to be discovered, stop being so darn obvious, I warned Gavril. Mr. Tarbelli studied me again in silence.

  “No, Miss Pearson. I am not.” Mr. Tarbelli was almost offended by the thought.

  “I don’t understand. If you are not an assassin, why do you want to train me to use weapons or explosives?”

  “Miss Pearson, the real power lies not in the ability to use your power but in how you use your intelligence, which I know you have, even if you have hidden it from me at times.” He smiled.

  I arched my eyebrow.

  His smile turned to an amused grin, and he continued. “Although, your stubbornness is a much larger problem than your powers. In short, you have what it takes to be a warrior.”

  Right. “Warrior?” I broke into a hysterical and pathetically sad laugh. “That is the worst twaddle I have ever heard, Mr. Tarbelli,” I used his own word, knowing I had had enough of this nonsense.

  “Miss Pearson, what makes you uniquely… strong, is the inner strength I have seen within you. You have dealt alone with unpredictable circumstances, loss, pain, and fear, and yet you never let that stop you from battle. I saw you fighting those demons. I saw you standing up to me, fearless, even when I had two swords in my hands,” he said.

  What was he talking about? I had been very scared—even now. His words made some sense, but I was scared of recognizing any of them as truth. I didn’t want to be Strzyga or a warrior. I shook my head. “No offense, but you aren’t exactly my teacher anymore. It isn’t like I will be attending school anymore, not after I left St. Mary’s without my proper goodbyes, and I don’t trust Mommy Dearest or you at this point.”

  Mr. Tarbelli closed his eyes briefly at my words, pursing his lips. He then looked at me straight in the eye, almost pleading. Right…

  “Let me… let us make things right.”

  “Are you flunkin kidding me? She abandoned me my entire life and now you think she or you can change the past with a flick of your fingers?” I wiped my tears, and clumsily, my fingers brushed the sudden mess my hair had become off my face. My rage had electrified it. I felt the electricity in my body rise.

  Uh, Ailie, buttercup… I don’t want to freak you out, but you look as if you are about to turn radioactive… and your eyes look freaking weird—kind of like liquid mercury, Gavril said. I knew I had to stop this before I turned us into a tragic calamity inside the jet. But it seemed almost impossible to let go of my rage.

  “Miss Pearson, it isn’t as if your parents left you to survive in the street with no one to care for you. Mother Clarisse treated you like a daughter,” he chastised me. He used the Mother Clarisse card, and that was unfair. It didn’t make up a valid excuse for abandoning me, for letting me think they were dead. My hands sparked with electricity.

  Abruptly, Gavril interrupted my lapsus stupidus, chasing his tail in circles like an idiot next to me. I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to cry or laugh. However, the electricity in my hands ceased. He broke me from the dark side. Mr. Tarbelli zeroed his sight on Gavril then on me, then back to Gavril. Not even curious of listening to his thoughts, I turned back to Gavril, who had made himself dizzy and strode two drunken steps toward me.

  I can try walking on two legs, but I need some music for that one, but hey… just saying, Gavril said.

  I shook my head, covering my mouth I refrained from laughter and stopped torturing Gavril. I got up placing the food plate on the galley floor for him. The last thing I wanted was Mr. Tarbelli upset with Gavril, because of messing his plush carpet. Miraculously, Gavril was fine the next instant.

  The things I have to do to get a cold meal, he muttered in my head. He cleaned his plate in less time than I could even sit down.

  I was still sobering from my bipolar upsurge as I sat. Mr. Tarbelli leaned closer toward me, making me turn my attention back on him.

  “Anything you want to tell me?”

  No. Like I was going to guess the intention of his not-so-innocent question… He had me. I couldn’t think one thing to say. Inadvertently, I retracted flat on my seat. Crap. Crap.

  “Well, does the wolf have a name?” He studied me closely, waiting for my answer.

  I’ll give it to him, he is very perceptive, Gavril said.

  Worse, he is suspicious. But I wasn’t going to let Mr. Tarbelli intimidate me. I sat straighter in my seat once again. I needed answers. NOW.

  “Actually, I want to know who you are exactly. Why were you at St. Mary’s? I also need to know how you know about Father Dominique. And, by the way, how do you happen to be my legal guardian?” I stared at him, daring his examining gaze. “And that is just for starters.”

  Andrei returned to retrieve our dishes, saving Mr. Tarbelli from my inquisition. He brought out an apple and a bagel with cream cheese. He placed them on the table for me and winked at me then expertly avoided Mr. Tarbelli’s glare. I thanked him before he returned inside the pilot’s cabin. I liked Andrei, I’d decided. I turned back to Mr. Tarbelli only to confront his serious frown. He had this barely noticeable crease on his forehead.

  I took the apple and carved a bite with my teeth. I would bet my bagel he was deciding whether he should tell me anything more or not. As if telling me that I was not human, immortal, and that he was my legal guardian were just the small things I could handle. However, I had to know everything. I needed the truth.

  “For God’s sake, just spill it. I can’t trust you anymore if you do not start telling me what the heck is going on and who you are…” Trust went both ways. He arched his eyebrow to me but instead connected with my gaze. Even though he was my legal guardian, in my book, it didn’t mean too much. I’d had about enough of anyone else deciding my life without my take on it. He did.

  “Miss Pearson, if you wish to know anything about me, you must first address me as Francis,” he said, moving away from the table and picking a different seat, inviting me to sit opposite him with a hand gesture.

  I followed him, sat, and opened the shade next to us. Gavril took his favorite spot again—the long white sofa. The stars shone in the dark sky. A brief and awkward silence paused between us.

  “So, are you going to tell me anything useful about yourself, Francis?” The name sounded natural, less devoid of meaning, despite of my sarcasm.

  He arched his eyebrow at my impertinence then sighed and smiled, rubbing the bridge of his nose, debating how to tell me whatever he was going to tell me.

  ”My name is Francis Tarbelli. By birthright, I am Lord of French Navarre, also known as Francis of Saint Palais, a Tarbelli. Henry the third was a legitimate direct descendent of the Tarbelli bloodline. In pre-Roman times, my royal family was Aquitani, that inhabited the region between the river Adour in the Pyrenees. Even Julius Cesar mentioned the Tarbelli in Roman history. Our historical territory today corresponds to one of the most productive lands in France.” He paused briefly after reciting those lines by heart. I wondered how many times he had told them.

  Wow, and he was also an aristocrat. I didn’t even know my last name but just a few hours ago.

  “I belong to a secret society, a brotherhood of immortals that have sworn to defend our kingdom,” he explained. That word again—kingdom. ”In our field of work, you must remember always that there are no rules for our brotherhood, except that we protect each other’s identities to protect the k
ingdom. But foremost, we understand the ethics of the battle field.” Francis’s philosophical, cryptic babble inside the classroom struck again.

  “How many are in this brotherhood?” I asked Francis.

  “Ah, that is a secret only the brotherhood is allowed to know,” he said. Of course, him being one of them, he knew but wouldn’t tell me. “However, if you, Miss Pearson, accept training with me, then you can master the arts and be part of this society one day,” he said. He was trying hard to win my trust, but could I trust him? I guess Mother Clarisse trusted him enough to speak of me with him.

  “Francis, you can call me Ailie since we are on a first-name basis.” I smiled sweetly. It was weird, him calling me Miss Pearson, while I was calling him, Francis… even when I would always feel exhilarated to have a last name.

  “Very well, Ailie.” He nodded back, silently accepting my olive branch. “You would become the second female master in history.” And our only, he thought.

  “What happened to her? The other girl?” I asked him.

  He sighed. “We honor her by remembering her love for the kingdom.” His eyes were unreadable, lost somewhere in the past. Yikes.

  So she died… freaking fantastic. Is he out of his mind? Gavril sneezed and snarled at the same time. So immortals could die—great.

  I rubbed my eyes. “Why me?”

  He arched his eyebrow with annoyance. “Because you need to learn discipline and to control your power for good, and because it’s the best way to keep you protected,” he said.

  Gavril muttered something unintelligible inside my head.

  “Protected like the other warrior girl?” I rolled my eyes and shook my head at him. He inhaled deeply. I was really getting to him.

  “Even more, Ailie. It is in my hopes that those nuns didn’t convert you into a suffering wretch, and perhaps next time you face life-threatening circumstances, you will consider my teachings a life savior.” He was frowning again. “You will learn to fend for yourself if need be, without sending you to war,” he explained. Right.