Children of Destiny

by Nicole R. Stevens

  “Bitch.”

  Chapter Two

  The Mission’s Disaster

  A full-length mirror leaned against the wall. Thick wooden planks with wines and lily flowers engraved in the woodwork framed the glass. A small bed sat against the opposite wall with a cold metal bar frame, a wooden chair, and two storage chests pushed to the far corner of the square room. The gray paint on the walls was peeling; there were no photographs, no paintings. Nothing.

  Adriana stood in the center of her gray peeling world, wearing a long parchment white dress that covered her tiny bare feet. There was silver lace on the bell-style sleeves and around the brim of the dress. When she closed her eyes, she could make out her mother, dancing in the flower gardens behind their house. A white lace dress spun around her, hugging her body as she spun, her copper hair floating around her. Adriana’s father sat on a green wood bench laughing at her, smoking garish leaves out of his pipe; a billow of blue smoke surrounding him as Adriana sat on his lap, giggling and playing with the smoke as it slipped through her fingers.

  “You look so beautiful.” Aaron said. His voice ripped her from the memory. He was leaning against the doorframe; it groaned from his weight. “You look just like your mother.”

  She turned back to the mirror placing her hands on an onyx necklace. “Was this hers?” she asked spinning the stone between her index finger and thumb. “It was on top of the dress. I assumed it went with the dress.”

  “It was something she would have wanted you to have. When it was time.” He said.

  “Time?” She asked, watching him from the mirror.

  “Yes, time. Like now, when you look so lovely.” He smiled. “Are you ready? We are getting ready to land.” Adriana nodded. “Good luck,” Aaron smiled at her. “You’ll need it. This mission will not be easy, but you always seem to find a way.”

  He walked out of her room, Adriana following on his heels. She learned that when he left a room, he was not inviting you to follow him; he was telling you to follow him.

  Phoebe and Braian were standing side-by-side wearing their steel armor that had been rusting over the years. She remembered when they procured them. They had broken into the Belleza armory, with the encouragement of Aaron after he had told them it was impossible. Well, nothing was impossible, you just needed to know which locks to pick, and when a locked should be picked. To help with this information, you needed to know when the guard duty shifts changed. Needless to say, walking away with the duty roster for Belleza armory and a few pairs of armor were a cause for a celebration. The armor sat forgotten, but the roster held information that interested parties could purchase. At the right price. It took the guard 6 months to realize something was wrong and tightened their security.

  Each piece of armor had to be hand polished so that its silvery chrome could shine through. The armor had intricate grooves carved into the plate, from the top of the breast and curved into a semicircle below the rib cage. In between each lattice was an inlay of gold. The arrangement and gold repeated throughout armor from the pauldrons down to the sabatons. The glint of chain-mail peeked out between the openings where the armor pieces connected to one another.

  Braian looked at home inside of his armor; his back was straight and his head held high. Unlike his companion, she slouched over the table, her helmet forgotten; little beads of sweat were visible on her brow.

  Ever since they were children, Aaron’s stories captivated Braian. His favorite was, in his youth, he had spent a few years as a knight for the Eskorgan crown. Braian would proclaim that one day he too would be a knight. However, in their current lifestyle being a knight was out of the question. He knew thievery was not the pathway to being the hero he wanted to be.

  “Let’s put the finishing touches on,” Adriana said. Behind her, the sound of the prisoner’s chains clanked together. “They sound so real.” Putting her arms behind her, allowing them to place them around her tiny wrists, snapping them into place. “Not so tight!” She hissed.

  “One size fits most.” Braian said. She could hear the low rumble of his laughter bubbling in his throat.

  A low humming growl vibrated from her chest, “You could have warned me.”

  “You didn’t ask.” Phoebe started, putting on the steel helmet, flipping the visor up. The helm had a darker finish to it and it didn’t seem to go with the rest of the armor’s golden designs.

  “I will go grab your dagger, stay there,” He said, disappearing into her room only to reappear moments later tying her dagger onto the sheath of his sword. Looking up from the knot he was trying he caught them smiling to each other. With eyebrows raised he asked, “What now?”

  “Are you enjoying this?” Adriana asked as she took small steps towards him, her hips swinging from one side to the other, “Having me in chains? Defenseless?” Her face close enough to touch his shoulders.

  He wasn’t an idiot, or born yesterday. This had the smell of trap to it, but sometimes his brain and his mouth did not connect, “I wouldn’t say I am enjoying it, but there are advantages.” Grasping the chain that bound her wrist, he pulled her closer to his chest. “You look very vulnerable right now.”

  Pressed against him she could feel the gentle tickle of his breath on her forehead. It sent waves of shiver down her spine.

  “Funny how chains can change how you are perceived. You almost look innocent.” His eyes locked on hers as he spoke. He dipped his head down, his lips parallel with hers; close enough to feel the tiny whiskers that grew out of his chin.

  The next thing he felt was his back hitting the ground. His feet swept out from underneath him. Adriana’s right foot, the culprit of his fall, extended over her left leg in a graceful, almost ballet-esque stance as she waited for him to get up.

  “I stand corrected,” He muttered, pulling himself from the floor. “You’re still a bitch.”

  “Maybe next time we should invest in some chains for her feet.” Aaron said. He was trying to hide his laughter, but his jiggling middle proved he was doing a poor job. He always was one for a prank. It was like a sixth sense he had, for he always seemed to know when a good one would play out. As the kids grew up, he would try not to meddle so he could be the neutral party if it went south, but if the prank caught his attention enough, he would have to take part. A few times, he had played some of his own. Everyone’s least favorite involved waking them up by screaming up and down the hall about the ship going down.

  “The plan is that we walk you in,” Phoebe explained, “We will need to explain to the castle guard that we need to do maintenance on the ship and you need to be held in the dungeon because you are a dangerous criminal. Not unlike the teddy bear you really are.” someone snorted, she was sure it was the violet-eyed boy behind her. “If all goes well we will escort you to the dungeons. As we get closer to them, we will cause a diversion that allows you time to get away and to the treasury. Our main idea involves you hitting one of us.”

  “Is Braian volunteering?” She asked with a smirk.

  “Hilarious. We believe we can buy you ten minutes before the guards realize something is amiss and then Phoebe and I will have to make a run for it. Once you have what we came here for, we will meet you back on the ship. Is that clear?”

  “Crystal.” She said. The ship landed with a thud on the dry landscape. “Anything else you want besides the staff? I hear they got some of the clearest diamonds. I’m sure they wouldn’t miss a few.”

  “Don’t get cocky.” the baritone vibrato voice entered the conversation. Owen walked into the room from the upper deck. His hand wrapped in gauze, stained with purple. “Just come back, all of you.”

  “In record time.” Adriana said.

  “I don’t think we have a record for getting out of a castle dungeon with treasure.” Owen said, chastising her.

  “Okay, come on,” Aaron said, “time is wasting and the longer you lot stand here the more suspicious it looks out there.” He breathed. The makeshift gua
rds took hold of their prisoner’s arms, pulling her towards the cargo bay door.

  As the doors opened, a vibrant light entered the hull with a welcoming warmth that Adriana had only felt once before, when she received a red, welting sunburn after falling asleep by the harbor one summer, spread across her face.

  They focused their eyes to the ground as the sun reflecting off the castle’s white marble towers caused blinding fireworks in their eyes. There was a sandy desert at their feet, but as they lifted their gaze, their eyes adjusted to the brightness, they saw a lush green meadow with purple and pink flowers peeking just above the grass.

  Phoebe’s mouth opened in awe as they marched through the meadow. A smile crept across Adriana’s face when she looked at her guard, “You might want to shut your mouth; you will catch a fly.”

  “Will you be quiet?” he hissed. Their feet arrived at a beige cobblestone path that lead to the castle entrance.

  “Halt,” A soldier wearing an embellished chest plate made of the finest copper, unsheathed his sword, pushing it towards Braian. The tip setting mere inches from his visor. “State your names, your business, and one good reason I shouldn’t kill you.”

  They looked at each other, surprised by their clear unwelcome. He cleared his throat and began the speech he had been practicing. “We are from Belleza. Our engine is malfunctioning. We are carrying this prisoner-”

  “What is she being held for?” The guard asked, never wavering to put his sword away.

  Hesitating for a moment before saying the first thing that came to his mind, “Murder.” Adriana opened her mouth to let out a vile curse, when a sudden pain screamed from her legs, sending her to the ground to her bony kneecaps. “With your kind permission, we would like to hold her in your dungeons while we repair our engines.”

  The guard removed his weapon from Braian’s view, moving the sword above his head, sliding the blade into its sheath built into the armor’s back. The sound of blade locking into place made a loud clicking sound making them all aware that the sword was not a danger to them anymore. “You are a long way from home soldier,” the guard said taking two steps towards Adriana. “Bring her forth, I will take her.”

  “No.” He said pulling his prisoner off the ground. The soldier raised his eyebrow at him. “What I mean to say is that one of us should go with you. This one is a two guard minimum.”

  The guard laughed. “I do not need your help to handle a little girl like her.” Phoebe did not hold back the snort of laughter that was tickling the back of her throat.

  “She is a handful. We should go with you.” She insisted.

  “I will hold her until your repairs are completed.” He reached out for Adriana’s arm, tearing her out from Braian’s grasp.

  She lifted her head to the guard and smiled.

  “I am not a little girl.” Adriana picked up her right foot, kicking the guard in the open area where his helmet and chest plate met. The force caused him to fall back and hit the ground with a loud crash. “That was easy,” She said. “You saw that right? Poor fellow just fell right over. They don’t make them like they used to.”

  “What in the name of the Gods do you think you’re doing?” Phoebe screamed, pulling Adriana’s arm.

  “I was not about to let you guys screw this up.” She said.

  “One problem, you see. I don’t know if you noticed. The wall that surrounds this kingdom is very tall.” Braian said. “That’s why we needed to get him to open the damn door!”

  “Untie me and I will show up how I will get over this wall.” She said.

  “You remember just like 10 minutes ago when Owen said don’t get cocky? You’re getting cocky.” He said, unlocking the chains, letting them fall to the ground.

  “All right. Now what, smartass?” Phoebe snapped.

  “Dagger and map.” She requested wiggling her fingers as her favorite blade, and the parchment dropped onto her palm. Lifting the lace skirt of her dress, she placed her dagger into a holster on her upper thigh. “See you both in ten minutes or less.” She took off running towards the castle wall. The breezing picking up her hair as she ran.

  “That wall has to be at least 30 feet high, she will never make it.” He grunted taking off running after her, Phoebe following close behind.

  The highest she had jumped was 20 feet, over a wall. She once tried to jump over a 25-foot fence only to be snagged on the barbwire at the top. Phoebe had to climb up the fence to help unhook her trousers. This, on the other hand, was a 30-foot wall and if she did not make it, her only option was to fall backwards into the greenery.

  They watched, readying themselves to run underneath her in case she came tumbling down. Jumping two feet away from the wall, her hands reaching out towards the stonewall grasping for openings large enough for her thin fingers to fit into. The toned muscles of her arms, helped pull her along as her legs propelled her. When she reached the top of the wall, she looked back at them, giving them a wave before jumping to the other side.

  “She is such a pain.” Braian mumbled kicked the grass with his boot. Lightly smacking Phoebe’s armor, “You’re telling him. He’ll take it better if it comes from you.”

  * * *

  In the furthest reaches of the castle’s east dungeon, Adriana walked through the corridors, the crumpled map held out in front of her.

  “According to this map, the treasury should be just up ahead to my right. No. My left.” She had spent the first part of her journey to the dungeon running along the main castle wall, careful not alert others to her presence. She watched two guards leave the guardhouse, the door wide open; she ducked through the open door. As she descended the stairs inside the house, the air became stale; there was a taste of rotten meat.

  Her ears were twitching with every sound that echoed around her. Water dripping from the ceiling, prisoners in far off prison cells talking, clanging of their chains. If she failed, then she would join them. She wondered if they knew any good card games. The hall began to opened, it felt warmer, was brighter, and she no longer taste the air.

  Peering around the corner, she spotted two guards on either side of the doorway leading to what she assumed was the treasury. She placed her slender fingers on the hilt of her dagger, and careful not to make any noise, pulled the blade from its sheath.

  “Hello.” She said, sauntering into their view. The guards went for their swords, crouching, ready to attack. “Don’t worry, I have an appointment.” A sly smile played on her face as she leaped into the air. Graceful as a dancer, dangerous as a snake. Landing near the guard to her right she punched his temple with the pommel of her dagger, rounding herself back she lashed out with the blade into the guard’s lower abdomen. The dagger glowed hot white, burning through the man’s armor, melting it away.

  Armored limbs around her waist, gripping her, pulling her body from the guard. Like a broken ragdoll, she hit the wall, her right shoulder taking the brunt of the impact. The shock of the hit scattered her for a moment, her hand letting go of her dagger and stars danced behind her eyes.

  “Stand down!” the guard yelled, slamming her into the wall again. The screams of his comrade behind him moved his attention away from her.

  It was in this exact moment that she knew the mission had in fact gone to hell. Not willing to die in dungeon she rolls herself over she looked at the guard, “What if I don’t want too?” Challenged.

  “You’re already in a lot of trouble. I would keep your mouth shut if I was you.” He said.

  “I’m not very good at that. That’s what everyone says, anyway. Always need to have the last word.” She hissed. The guard walked towards her with his sword out, ready to strike her if she made any movements. “I wouldn’t get any closer if I were you.”

  “Why is that?” he questioned.

  “Because my dagger is still in reach.” Rolling herself over she reached out to grip the handle of her blade, using the wall as leverage, pushing herself along the floor and sendin
g herself flying towards the guard, her dagger at the ready.

  A surprised cry escaped from the guard as her knife sliced through the break in his cuisse. She stabbed through the chain mail and sinew, dragging her blade across from his pelvis, up into his abdomen, under the chain mail and tasset. Giving a hard jerk she freed her dagger from underneath his armor, blood poured from the wound. The guard’s body slumped to the ground, eyes clouding over.

  Long and delicate fingers lowered his lids. No one needed to find this man with his eyes blank. Death was not an option for her, not yet. She wiped her palm on the white marble floor, imagining the blood staining the tiles.

  “Are you awake?” She made her way over to the other guard. Blood oozed from his wounds, but very much alive. “I want you to know I have no intention of killing you. But if you don’t want to live, I suggest you try stopping me.” She turned back to the treasury doors. “You’ll pick him up later, won’t you? Thanks.”

  Sparkling quartz pillars connected the floor to the glass ceiling, recently polished, the floor held Adriana’s reflection as she stepped through the pathway. The natural light soaking through the ceiling, reflected off the piles of gold and bronze coins and chests full of jewels and trinkets.

  The stained glass ceiling told a story she was not familiar. She looked at the beautiful pictures of a long golden-haired maiden holding a spear amid battle. She had never seen this type of pike before, a long straight blade on one side and curved on the underside into another point created the head of the spear.

  Turning her attention to the towering stacks of gold around her, “Why are we only taking the staff?” She plucked a few coins, slipping them into bodice of her dress. They felt cool to her skin. “I’m sure they won’t miss a few.” A glittering diamond ring caught her eye, “Or this.”

  She continued her walk down the gilded path until the treasures seemed to thin out and opened to a raised round dais that was a foot off the ground. Floating in the center of the platform was the staff of Elldrod. The stave was not as long as a walking cane used by elderly men, but more of a mage’s wand. The golden body looked tarnish in the light. Adorning the top encased in golden filigree branches that seemed to come forth wrapped around a large brilliant emerald.