Animus

by Kindra Sowder

  Three of them were human and the other two were creatures from beyond the Realm, each one of them beautiful in their own right. Each throne reflected the world that they hailed from. The three thrones for each human member were made to look like a particular tree from the Earthly Realm -- one a white birch, one a weeping willow, and the last being a coast redwood. The other two represented the different areas of the Long Realm of the Channel that the creatures came from, sitting at the very edges of the raised area where the thrones sat, the ones representing their human counterparts in the center of the throng.

  Each council member was seated in their long white robes, clean and pristine with only their faces and hands visible. Each human representative was scarred, one man just below his left eye that he received in battle, the other man with one that caused his right eye to remain shut from where his eye had been plucked from its socket. The only human woman was perfect beside the small imperfection just above her top lip. No one knew where the scar had come from, but no one dared ask.

  The creature that sat all the way on the left of the stage of sorts had a black throne, accented in red. He was a Reaper. The creature that took souls from their physical plane to whichever plane they would inhabit in death. The lore was similar between Earth and the Realm, but with one small difference. He could cross the plane from Earth to the Long Realm of the Channel, puncturing that veil as well as the one between life and death. But that Channel was now closed and so, he was changed from his ethereal form to a physical one -- leaving him stranded on this plane.

  The final member was what the Japanese called an Ubume, but there was a marked difference between their lore and what she actually was. According to the Japanese lore, she was a ghost of a woman who had lost her child. In reality, she was very much alive. Her husband had killed her unborn child while it was still inside of her, managing to survive the attack herself. Her rage turned her into something other than human. Some would say she was a demon of sorts, but I knew better. I considered her more of a witch than anything, her power taking over her after her child’s untimely end. Her once sun-kissed skin had turned pale white, just like the throne she sat upon. Her hair had remained the same auburn brown it had been and her eyes were an icy blue, mirroring the callousness of her rage. No one knew exactly what type of power she possessed. Some said she could bring the dead back to life or move things with her mind. Even see visions of the future, but there was no evidence of any of it. Only hearsay.

  We approached in silence, the room only a hush of noise as unspoken power moved through the air and caressed each cell in my body. It always felt this way when entering their chamber. I heard Victor gasp softly as he felt it for the first time. I smirked. Continuing my stride toward the Council members, I did not take my eyes off of them.

  Once standing at least ten paces from the three steps that led to their thrones, we fell to one knee, bowing our heads until addressed by the Council of the Sentinel of Hydra. This was standard procedure when addressing them. You did not meet their eyes or speak until spoken to. Those were the rules, but they typically let you speak freely once addressed. They didn’t have many rules, but the ones they did have, you better follow each one of them or you’d suffer some dire consequences even worse than being burned alive at the stake and, trust me, there were worse punishments out there. Those among the Council were very creative and I had witnessed some of their tortures. That was how I knew I didn’t want any part of it.

  “You may rise,” one of the female representatives said, her soft and eloquent voice echoing off the walls.

  I recognized the voice as the Ubume, the power behind her words coming to greet me.

  We stood, straightening our backs and clasping our hands behind us. This stance wasn’t customary, but it was one I had taught my sentries as it was the most comfortable when standing during your time with the Council. The room was silent for all of a moment before the female human representative spoke, her brown hair peeking out just inside the hood of her white cloak.

  “General Quinn Ragnarok of Archer’s State, will you please brief the Council of the Sentinel of Hydra as to the events that transpired at the peace meeting with the Royals of Paderborn.”

  I bowed my head, showing that I acknowledged her request, and took a deep breath. They never made demands of anything. They made requests and, because of who they were, they knew you would do what was asked of you.

  “Yes,” I began, “we met with the Royals to discuss peace between the Sentinel and Paderborn and to make certain the Long Realm of the Channel remains sealed. We met them halfway between Archer’s State and their city, but the meeting did not go as planned. We were betrayed.”

  The Ubume took in a deep, high pitched gasp and spoke. “Who was it that betrayed us, General? Was it our own men?”

  I tried very hard to keep my gaze from falling from her beautifully pale and elegant face to the stone floor. In their presence you treated them with the same respect they showed you, and despite all of their rules, they never once made you feel disrespected. You were truly worth what they felt you were, which was why they had brought you into the Sentinel to begin with. Not everyone in Archer’s State was a part of the Sentinel, those within it only accounting for approximately a quarter of the massive population. And it was one of the largest cities in the Southern Dominion of the country.

  “It was. Our men sided with the Royals and turned against us, but only one survived Apep’s blast.” My eyes drifted to Victor for only a second as he stood silent beside me, taking in what was happening and his surroundings within the chamber.

  “Who was the survivor?” the male human with the scar down his eye asked, his rough voice echoing off the walls and across the floors.

  A part of me didn’t want to say, but I knew that I had to. They had to know that Damien was the one.

  “Private Damien Blizzard, Council.”

  It was then that my face fell and my eyes averted to the floor. Once I saw each one of their faces register the name I couldn’t bring myself to look at them. The large hood of my covering fell slightly over my eyes, hiding my look of guilt and shame. Not just because I couldn’t keep my own men’s loyalty, but because we couldn’t hold onto him long enough to bring him back to the Council for judgment.

  “Private Damien Blizzard is the other that was not able to bond properly with his dragon, is he not?” the other male human asked of me. His voice wasn’t as gravelly, but it was nearly as deep a baritone as the other.

  “That is him, yes,” I replied, my eyes never once lifting back up from the stone floor. “And it is with my deepest apologies that I must inform you that he escaped custody.”

  “General Ragnarok, you are the best we have. If you were not able to keep him bound to you, there had to be a reason. So,” the Reaper finally spoke, adjusting in his seat, “we would very much like to know what happened to cause your prisoner to escape. And please, raise your eyes to speak to me while telling this tale, without hiding under your hood.”

  The Reaper was the only one among the Council that delighted in the sorrow of others and my guilt would be appetizing enough. Normally, the other members stepped in, but as of that moment, they said nothing. They just watched, mildly amused to hear what had transpired.

  “It wasn’t her fault, Council. Please do not blame her,” Victor voiced as he took a step forward.

  My gaze shot up and I stared at Victor, my eyes widening in a look of shock from his actions and his blatant speech. My hand reached out toward him.

  “Victor, please.” I turned to the Council. “I do apologize. He has not had the pleasure of addressing the Council before, and he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

  “That’s quite all right,” the Ubume stated with a lift of her delicate hand in his direction, her cloak floating magically in the empty space. “Please, Private Victor Shroud, continue.”

  Victor took another step forward and stopped at the bottom of the steps, adjusting his hood as it shifted on his
head and almost fell off altogether. He cleared his throat and licked his lips nervously as he opened his mouth to speak.

  “We were attacked by Halflings on our journey back. We had Private Blizzard restrained so he couldn’t escape but when the Halflings attacked, they used their magics to free him and took him. We did all we could, but all we were able to bring back as proof were two objects that General Ragnarok now has on her person.” Victor turned back and pointed to me.

  I had to hide my glare of disapproval, but I knew what they would ask next. They would want to lay their own eyes upon the items.

  “General,” the human female said as she rose her hand in my direction, “please show us these items.”

  “Yes,” I nodded as I removed the pouch containing the two capsules from my coat pocket and the sinister blade that was emblazoned with the seal of the Royals of Paderborn.

  These two items would prove his involvement with both parties as well as the Royal’s involvement with the Halflings. Or, at least I hoped they would.

  Without hesitation, since I knew my role and what came with it, I moved up the steps and stopped on the one directly before the landing itself. Falling to one knee before the Council, I held out the items toward them, palms face up with the capsules and blade on display as my head dropped in a bow. My hands were visibly shaking from nerves and fatigue and I was desperately hoping they didn’t notice. A graze of fingers caused me to look up. The Ubume had risen from her throne and came to me, touching my hand as she removed the items from them and inspected them carefully, especially the capsules.

  Her eyes glinted with unshed tears as she opened the pouch, holding the capsules up into the soft light given off by the lamps in the room. They shone a dark purple, almost black. Knowing crossed over her features and she took a deep breath in, taking the blade into her other hand and staring at the seal of Paderborn that adorned it.

  “This blade was forged in the fires of Paderborn,” she stated as she turned toward the others and handed the blade to the next Council member to inspect. She held out the pouch of capsules for them to take as well. “Deadly Nightshade capsules, only manufactured by the Halflings. This is enough evidence to condemn Private Damien Blizzard to the worst of the Sentinel’s punishments. These and the testimony of both General Quinn Ragnarok and Private Victor Shroud. What say you, Council members?”

  “Aye,” said the human female, quickly followed by both human males.

  Now the last to voice his opinion was the Reaper. Silence crept over us as we awaited his answer. I held my breath, desperately hoping he felt the same way about the evidence put forth as the others. He reached up with large, deathly pale hands and pushed back his hood, it falling to rest on his shoulders. I had not once seen his face, and I had to hold back a surprised gasp as I took in the sight.

  He looked strangely human, his face beautiful as only death could be in the presence of mere mortals. His cheekbones were high, a strong jaw clenched with anger after having listened to our testimony and seeing the evidence against one of our own. The Council did not see traitors in a favorable light, especially the Reaper. His face said it all with his elegantly arched eyebrows that furrowed, a frown drawing down the corners of his perfectly shaped lips. His eyes were perfect onyx, no white surrounding the irises. Only darkness lived within him even though he was considered a neutral party in most respects when it came to the light and the dark. He was death and he took those who had run out of time on this Earth and between planes and realms, not caring who he took as long as it was their time to move to another form of existence. I had always resisted the urge to ask him what that was, mostly because you did not question the Council. Not under any circumstances. Even if you felt their judgment was flawed.

  With one deep breath and a glint in his eyes, he finally answered the only question hanging between all of us in the still air, his voice deep and resounding.

  “Aye.”

  Chapter 5

  I knelt there, stunned into complete and utter silence as I stared at the Reaper. I didn’t know what to do next but stare in awe. His voice still echoed through my mind and I could feel it chill my bones in the most unsettling way imaginable. Strangely enough, there was also a comforting quality to the sound. I wasn’t sure if I was the only one who felt it lingering just beneath, but that didn’t matter. He moved toward me, all sly grace as he seemed to float above the floor. Even I knew that wasn’t the case, and when he stood beside the Ubume, she moved so he could stand before me. No one wanted to feel the chilled touch of his flesh on theirs because they felt death would surely follow. I didn’t know if that was true, but I was curious. Always had been.

  He reached down toward me and took my hands in his, his flesh not at all cold like the dead as I had expected. They were warm, solid, and comforting in every way.

  “Please stand, General Quinn Ragnarok,” he requested as I rose to my feet before him, my cloak billowing around me as I did so as if a wind had picked up within the chambers. He was showing me his power. “Now, please remove your hood.” He looked to Victor. “And you as well. I feel, since we are about to go to war, that these ridiculous pleasantries aren’t necessary. Especially since I have chosen to fight beside you.”

  “But Lucius,” the Ubume protested from beside him, worry causing her gorgeous and delicate face to become harsh and afraid.

  He interrupted her with a wave of his hand, his obsidian eyes never once leaving my face.

  “That is quite enough,” he replied, a cold chill beginning to take over the atmosphere as his anger grew. I shivered inside of my cloak as he continued, not just from the cold, but from fear. “I am death and I will be feared again,” he shouted, the sound reverberating off the walls and causing the air to turn even colder around us, my breaths coming out in white puffs.

  The Ubume backed away from him as I watched him close his eyes and take a deep, shuddering breath as he attempted to reel his anger back in. I hadn’t been certain that he meant he would fight this war beside us before, but after his reaction to her refusal, there was no more doubt left in my mind.

  “That is not a wise decision, Lucius,” the female human responded, her eyes piercing his back as he stood before me and she rose from her seated position.

  “I do not need you to tell me what is unwise, Genevieve. I didn’t when you replaced the elder human, and I do not now. So, please, understand me when I say that I will be fighting with General Ragnarok against the Royals of Paderborn and the Halflings as I am the only one that can truly reap the souls of those foul creatures.” He opened his eyes again and looked at me, his eyes sizzling with heat. “Now please, General. Remove your hood. I want to better see the faces of those I will be warring beside.”

  I did as requested, pushing my hood back until it fell around my shoulders, Victor following suit behind me. My long, dark hair flowed out from beneath the fabric, pooling around my shoulders and clashing against my pale skin that was still covered in soot and filth from Apep’s fire as well as the arduous journey we had endured to get back to Archer’s State. His eyes seemed to widen in shock and awe, but as soon as the expression appeared, it had gone and was replaced with respect and resolve. He took my hands in his again and held them, my breath catching in my throat as heat radiated from them and soaked into my flesh, welcoming me into his very essence. Into what he was. He wasn’t only death. I felt it in that moment. He was so much more than anyone gave him credit for, especially those that shied away from him, which I wasn’t about to. Not after feeling this even though I had no idea exactly what this was. Lucius looked deep into my eyes then, a shimmer of a tear resting just within his dark eyes, causing them to sparkle even more than they already did in the light.

  “Do you not fear death, General Ragnarok?” He paused. “Do you not fear me?”

  I thought about the question for a moment, knowing what the answer was before I even opened my mouth to speak. “No, I do not.”

  He nodded then and gently released my hands, a de
ep shaky breath leaving him that he attempted to conceal. I could tell that wasn’t the answer he had expected, always being treated as if he carried the plague with him wherever he went, even amongst his own companions within the Council. I felt sorry for him. I was sorry for the way people looked at him and I was sorry for the way people reacted to his very presence just because of what he was, but that didn’t make up who he was. I learned that in this meeting tonight and I was desperate to know more about whom he truly was underneath the surface. I had a feeling I’d be finding out since we were about to move against the Royals of Paderborn side by side, sword with sword, life with life.

  “I would like to train with you before we wage war on Paderborn and the Halflings. I have certain,” he licked his lips, “abilities that may allow us an advantage.”

  He smiled, pride and viciousness in that smile and in his eyes. A chill ran up my spine at the expression, but I did my best to repress the reaction.

  All I could do was nod in answer.

  “Yes, we would love to have you, sir,” Victor replied for the both of us.

  Lucius looked at him and then back at me. “Please, take tonight to rest and take care of yourselves. I will send the doctor to your bedchambers, General. That head wound needs to be tended to,” he said as he pointed to the gash on my forehead I had completely forgotten about.

  I had washed away the blood that had dripped from it, but when I placed my fingers on the wound, they came away wet with crimson.

  “Thank you for your kindness,” I answered with a single nod of my head.

  With that we were dismissed, left to trudge our path to our own bedchambers. I was situated more toward the center of the compound with my own courtyard for Apep to take residence. It was just large enough for her to be comfortable. Victor wasn’t too far away since he was a part of my regime, but he was just far enough to offer us both privacy. Once we exited the Council’s chamber, we removed the long cloaks and placed them back on the rack. I noticed a small spot of red on the one I had been wearing from my bleeding wound.