Bound by Roses (The Bound Series Book 1)

by Jonathan Lazar

  With reluctance, but acceptance the Wolf Queen lowered her head and removed herself through the Mirror. It rippled and shook as she passed through it. The Wolf shook her body. From her fur a mist expelled itself. She sneezed violently the same mist. Asena ran down the stairs. They appeared in puffs of electric blue smoke.

  At the entrance to the tower, the two Wolves remained sitting. Neither spoke as they waited, silent statues. Eyes locked on the vines as they twisted, turned and the stones moved about of their own accord. Asena rushed out into the heat of the desert to her soldiers. The Bloodstone clutched in her mouth. Anger raged in her eyes.

  “What word my Queen?” One of the Wolves broke his silent watch and approached.

  “They created fakes!” Asena spit the Bloodstone out of her jaw. She howled into the wind and sand. “Cunning sun worshippers!”

  “What do we do? None shall follow you if we do not have the true Bloodstone,” the second Wolf growled.

  “Do you think I do not know this?” Asena’s teeth glistened as she barked to her soldiers.

  “Forgive me, my Queen,” the Wolf backed away, tail between legs, head low.

  “Our course of action?”

  “The Witch gathered five of the six. We will find and destroy the owner of the final copy. Restore our glory, and then destroy that Witch, Theodora Talisa!”

  “Where do we begin?” The second Wolf pondered.

  “Away from this wretched tower!” Asena picked the Bloodstone into her mouth, and led her two soldiers away.

  With Asena gone from the tower, Theodora Talisa took a seat upon the window. Her silk gowns bottom fluttered and blew in the wind. Her eyes stared into the imposing Fairy that stood near her.

  “I wish to be alone, Fairy,” Theodora Talisa turned her head away. A thick strand of blonde hair unraveled and unwound from the bedpost. It slinked along the floor as a snake. The Fairy merely watched it. It snapped outwards and caught a Raven that flew too close to the window.

  “So active have the Raven’s become recently,” Theodora Talisa commented as her blonde hair glistened as the morning sun. The brightness disappeared as the thick strand unraveled and allowed the mummified husk of the bird’s remains to blow apart in the wind.

  The Witch closed her eyes, and cracked her neck.

  “My Queen is looking as radiant as ever,” Ophiuchi approached with a wide smile. Theodora Talisa ignored the Fairy,

  “I said I wish to be alone.”

  Ophiuchi stopped short of the Witch, “but I have brought you a gift.”

  The Fairy bowed low for a moment, arms extended out wide.

  “I do not wish for gifts,” Theodora Talisa waved a hand to dismiss Ophiuchi away.

  Ophiuchi let out a high-pitched chuckle accompanied with a flick of the wrist, “this gift you will want, my Queen.”

  A swirling mass of purple and green smoke appeared upon the Witches lap. The weightless smoke gave way to a book. It sank heavily into her lap. Theodora Talisa’s wide eyes shot to the Fairy.

  “Where did you acquire this?”

  “Along my travels,” the Fairy stated, “I have acquired it as well to test the loyalty of the Wolves.”

  Theodora Talisa ran her fingers along the silver gilded pages. She enjoyed the pages cool sensations upon the skin. She wanted to open it, but looked upon the Fairy instead, “What do you propose?”

  “The Wolves are growing unreliable since they discovered the Bloodstone’s exists still in this Age,” Ophiuchi paced about the room without noise and stopped just before the large Mirrored door. Dark robes grazed the Mirror. The glass rippled. Ophiuchi’s pupil-less, prismatic eyes stared back to Theodora Talisa, “A new servant is require if you are to claim the House of White as your own.”

  “Not yet. She still may be useful.” Theodora Talisa put the book upon the sill and rose. A rush of light-headedness and the Witch faltered slightly. Ophiuchi disappeared in a flash from near the Mirror. Theodora Talisa fell to the side. Caught gracefully by Ophiuchi. The Witch began to sweat profusely and breathed heavily. Ophiuchi ran a hand along the Witches body with a glowing aqua hand.

  “Your strength has yet to return fully,” the Fairies high voice echoed through all the Mirrors. The Fairies strong hand rested upon Theodora Talisa’s chest. The Witches breaths were heavy and shallow. Eyes fluttered. Ophiuchi helped Theodora Talisa to bed, “Poison still courses through your veins.”

  “Yes. I must rest,”

  The Witch began to fall asleep, eyes tired. Hand rested upon her stomach. Breaths grew shallower with each intake.

  “You know. What to do,” Theodora Talisa fell into a sleep so deep it resembled death. Ophiuchi took the form of mist and rushed away from the bed. The Fairy entered the Mirror, but did not exit into the stairwell.

  While the Wolves sped away with magic upon their heels, and Theodora Talisa regained her strength through sleep, the Fairy, Ophiuchi traveled faster than even the Primal Winds themselves. The Fairy traveled through a reflective fog. So expansive that one could see no real end. The fog shot out and branched into a corridor, which those would branch into others, like a tree. These passages too the same as the one Ophiuchi traversed, fog reflective as a mirror. Though the Fairy cared not for its own reflection. A reflection that was ghostly as the swirling, dancing mist. Ophiuchi continued to travel down multiple tunnels.

  The Fairy would divert down another tunnel that came available. Within these tunnels, an end would appear in the form of a mirror. They hung in the fog, ghostly doorways. The Fairy could make out the frame, but it was so intertwined with the fog, it was easy to believe that the frame was the fog. Sometimes voices could be heard. And if one stopped, one could see into the room that housed that mirror.

  For some time, the Fairy traveled these corridors, searching, stopping at a mirror, and checking. Ophiuchi did not linger, always moving after a moment.

  It was not until Ophiuchi came to a pitch-dark mirror in a reflective red frame, that the Fairy stopped. The fog itself around the mirror had the same reflective red hue. Almost like a fire it swirled around in the fog. The misty ball stared deeply into it. Ophiuchi’s tendrils caressed the mirror tenderly. It, like all the others gave back no reflection. After a short moment the Fairy entered it.

  Ophiuchi came to enter a room lit only by twenty-seven tall black candles. Thick black curtains hung over everything but the mirror. They blocked out all light from the immense windows. A bed rested in the center. Black drapes hung from its banisters down like dark waterfalls. They had a slight shimmer to them. A shimmer that only the candlelight could entice out of them.

  Upon the bed lay Saledii, gowned in rich and light absorbing ebony. Small diamonds glinting in the candlelight as stars would in the night sky. Her fire red hair electric in candlelight, skin pale, and blood cleaned away, but still stained.

  All the room was silent.

  All Zhan’ding was quiet.

  All were mourning.

  From the mirror, Ophiuchi appeared as silent as the room. The orb of mist floated towards the bed, the Fairy, brighter than a candles flame. A misty tendril brushed Saledii’s cold cheek as the Fairy overlooked the dead ruler, “Death suites you, Lady Red. My Queen will find what she is after, and your attempts to keep it hidden, would have been for naught.”

  Footsteps outside of the room and a jiggling handle signaled that the Fairy did not have time to waste. Ophiuchi’s light vanished and the creature sank into the floor. Two attendants dressed in black entered.

  Ophiuchi began to search.

  Theodora Talisa wanted something she believed Zhan’ding held.

  Eight.

  It was not long before Captain Iritis and Marguerite entered and overheard the yells and commotion of the gathered Ministers,

  “Does Ashok Orai have the room to foster any refugees?” Minister Emon declared. His voice echoed upwards into Marguerite’s ears.

  “Or the resources—” Another announced, but fell quickly silent with a sharp gasp
and intake of breath when he saw Marguerite stride down, followed closely by Iritis. The Minister cleared his throat and lowered his head as he shuffled backwards away from the staircase.

  “Ashok Orai will make the room, Ministers. It is our duty,” Marguerite descended swiftly. Her voice carried itself with grace and dignity down the steps ahead of her.

  “As for the resources, well. We have a surplus in the storehouses; I believe the last report read. Is that not correct, Minister Avana?”

  Minister Avana forced a smile through his wrinkled brow. Beady eyes glared sharply at Lady White through round spectacles half the size of his face, “We have a surplus, yes, but that is taking into account the current population of Ashok Orai alone—”

  “Do we not take into account potential population growth into this count?” Marguerite asked.

  “Of course we do, Lady White, but—”

  “Then refugees added to that will not greatly affect what we have plenty of,” Marguerite stopped before the final step.

  “But how long will these resources last?” Minister Vani’s voice broke out, “Refugees will be a serious drain upon our resources.”

  “We are helping our brethren, Ministers,” Marguerite approached the stone table with Iritis, “bakers, farmers, and soldiers. All will contribute to that which makes Ashok Orai great.”

  “The refugees are fleeing their broken city,” Minister Emon began to speak again, “Who says the Wolves will not follow?”

  “There is no proof to back up any claims you make,” Marguerite slammed her hands upon the stone table.

  Captain Iritis stepped forward, hand in his sword’s hilt, “Should your fears be justified, Ashok Orai is better equipped to handle a few stray Wolves.”

  The Ministers grumbled to themselves. Kaniz, who slipped in before them, remained among the wall.

  “What do you suggest we do then, Lady White?” A Minister questioned.

  “We will build our friends a new Quarter. One where they can live in peace, and we can share in their culture,” Marguerite took a seat at her chair and sat tall.

  “And who will we displace in the process of this grandiose idea?” Minister Avana rose his voice in concern, “And the resources?”

  “We will take the city of Zhan’ding, and incorporate it into the already stable infrastructure of Ashok Orai,” Marguerite sat calmly as she spoke. She crossed her legs and adjusted her gown. The Ministers screamed and yelled all at once, one or two hit the table before them.

  “Expansion?” Minister Vani roared, “You cannot be serious?”

  “I am very serious.”

  “Why should we have to expand?” Minister Emon leaned upon the table, a hand shot to the sky, “Should the refugees wish to enter Ashok Orai, then they should have to live as we do!”

  “These are citizens of Zhan’ding, not savages, Minister,” Marguerite said, both hands holding tight to the arms of her chair.

  “Ashok Orai, has not seen an expansion of that magnitude in nearly a century!” Minister Emon who stood closest to Marguerite exclaimed.

  “Or more!” Minister Aarohn clamored on. He rubbed his hands together nervously.

  “Then Ashok Orai is overdue. I personally feel that a new Quarter is needed to liven up the city. What say you Captain Iritis?” Marguerite stared across the table at the Captain. He had been leaning upon the wall, watching. He adjusted and cleared his throat.

  “I fully agree. I could use some more walking room. And Zhan’ding was always too far to travel for fresh brewed rose wine,” Iritis joked. Hands clutched behind his back. Kaniz brushed hair out of her face and giggled softly to herself. She was the only one who laughed.

  The Ministers took up protest, and screamed. Their arms flew in all directions. Their voices overtook one another. They echoed like thunder. Marguerite merely stared at Iritis; both tried to contain their laughs.

  “And what of us? Surely the Zhan’ding Ministers will want a say in day to day operations?” Minister Olan leaned forward looking.

  “Then the Minister’s Council will expand,” Marguerite leaned upon the arm of her chair.

  “Expand the Minister’s Council?” Minister Vani yelled.

  Marguerite smiled, “Some fresh blood may do this stale Council good!”

  “Stale?” Minister Emon barked.

  “Lord White would have never—”

  “Again I must remind you, that my father is dead!” Marguerite choked back the rage she wished to unleash upon the Ministers, as she interrupted Minister Tanba.

  “May I interject, Lady White?” Captain Iritis stepped forward with a single hand in the air. Marguerite nodded her head without speaking while all eyes fell to him.

  “What could you have to offer?” Minister Thani mocked, “regarding such, political issues.”

  “I may not know much, being just a humble underling, of insignificant birth” Iritis chuckled through squinted eyes. He placed a hand upon the table, “but many of the Ministers are dead.”

  All the Ministers remained quiet. A few hung their heads low. Marguerite rose with her palms on the table. She leaned heavily into them, “Looks as if you have no real worries on this matter then. Correct?”

  “No, none,” Minister Emon was the first to speak.

  “All the Ministers were killed?” Another asked.

  “Yes,” Iritis said, hands behind his back. Minister Emon rubbed his eyes and wiped away a tear.

  “I do hope the challenge of coming up with the design will not be too difficult?” Marguerite broke the second silence brought on after Minister Emon spoke. “I suggest incorporating the beautiful red tiles of Zhan’ding roofs, always loved the color. Speaking of, Captain.”

  “Yes?” Iritis stood at attention across from Marguerite.

  “Is Zhan’ding secured?” Marguerite asked.

  “Yes, Lady White,” Captain Iritis, held tight to the white tipped jewel of his sword and bowed. The jewel under his palm glistened faintly.

  Marguerite moved away from the table. “Then we must go.”

  “Surely, we can send soldiers to do any task?” A Minister asked.

  “I have already stated my intent and reasons. That is all.” Marguerite stepped away. The Ministers uproar over all the events went unnoticed by Marguerite as she, Kaniz, and Captain Iritis ascended the stairs.

  Fast as the Wind and quieter than storms, Marguerite was saddled up and ready to ride to Zhan’ding with Iritis, “I wish you would allow me to accompany you, my Lady.”

  “No Kaniz, what I have to do in Zhan’ding, is best kept for one pair of eyes. Too many would put you, or anyone else in danger.” Marguerite ran her fingers across her handmaiden’s face. She brushed a thick strand behind Kaniz’s ear.

  “Very well. Keep her safe Iritis!” Kaniz called out, brushing hair out of her face as the wind picked up.

  “I plan on it. I lose her, I lose my job!” Iritis joked, approaching his horse. He winked to the beautiful handmaiden. Kaniz blushed as she watched them race away.

  The two were off and out of the city of Ashok Orai. They raced to the forest before Ashok Orai, where the first caravan of refugees arrived. They all carried what they could, or what remained in their destroyed homes. Marguerite did not know which. They were tired. Flanked by soldiers in white. Marguerite could see they were apprehensive in the woods. From what she knew of the woods beyond Zhan’ding, she could understand. Marguerite and the Captain raced past and out of the forest.

  Nine.

  While Marguerite and Captain Iritis rushed onward, near chaos tightened its grip upon the dying city. Its citizens tried to fight to remain in the only home some had ever known. Broken shards of brick flew through the air. Citizens clashed with the white armored Ashok Orai soldiers. Shields were high, but swords remained sheathed.

  “Many of your soldiers are dead!” An Ashok Orai soldier tried to calm the storm that brewed, “No one is going to protect you should you not decide to relocate!”

  “Do you th
ink that we need your kindness?” A resident threw another stone at the soldier. It deflected harmlessly off his shield with a dull ping.

  “We do not need your generosity!” A second resident yelled.

  Another rock flew towards the soldiers.

  “We have protected the realm, while your precious city reaped the rewards. We will protect ourselves!” Another stone flew it at the soldiers, who raised shields in defense. More residents threw stones at the soldiers as they backed into a wall. A soldier looked upon another, “Go! Get Captain Iritis! Fly on the Wings of Sarenith! GO!”

  A soldier slipped away on horseback. He fled through broken streets. Many who saw him, threw rocks, bricks, and bottles. Anything they could find. He sped towards Ashok Orai but barely escaped the cities crumbling gates when he stopped before the approaching Marguerite, “Captain! Lady White! By the Gods!”

  “Report, soldier,” Iritis calmed his horse, as the soldier rested his.

  “The citizens are unhappy,” he exclaimed.

  “What do you mean, unhappy?” Marguerite asked.

  “They grow restless. We are under attack.”

  “Let us go,” Iritis declared. With a snap of the reigns all three were off. Marguerite and Iritis followed the soldier through the poorly kept streets. The crowd had grown, noise thunderous.

  Marguerite’s horse moved between the soldiers and crowd of citizens. The horse neighed loudly whilst upon two legs before landing sharply. It’s hooves echoed like thunder.

  “Enough!” Marguerite stared at the Zhan’ding citizens, “What is the meaning of this?”

  “If it isn’t Lady White herself, come to evict us?” The first resident bellowed, bowing as low as she could. In her hand a broken red brick.

  Marguerite climbed off her horse,

  “We do not force any to leave their homes.”

  Captain Iritis soon followed suit and was next to her. His hand gripped the handle of his sword apprehensively as she continued to speak, “if you wish to stay, Ashok Orai will help you rebuild.”