***
Rin slipped back into the ruling chamber as their personal chamber shared the space with Nathaniel’s chambers and throne, something that she never appreciated. Nathaniel, however, was absent, almost suspiciously. As she continued, she turned back but still saw no sign of him; hopefully, he had either decided to head outside for fresh air, or he had chosen to go to sleep following the argument. It mattered not though, as long as he was absent right now, that’s all she cared about it. One gentle rap on the door later, she was safe inside her private room with Sebastian where she settled Ciel down to sleep in his crib, before slumping down on their bed and being comforted by Sebastian.
“How’d it go? You appear exhausted,” he queried, tenderly embracing her as she calmed herself down.
“He was reserved in his answers, I can tell he’s experienced something, but he was unwilling to tell me exactly what,” Rin responded, keeping the detail as minimal as possible as per Amnur’s suggestion. “At least the trip calmed Ciel down, he’s sleeping soundly.”
“It’s a shame, but we can’t force him to say anything, not without making him wary of us also.” Rin simply smiled and leant in close, pressing her head against his chest.
“Not much we can do we about it now, let’s get some sleep before Ciel wakes up hm?”
“Sounds good,” he chuckled, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her down into the bed with him.
***
Nathaniel stared at the night sky, gazing at the endless blanket of stars that lined the sky. He sat perched on top of Shadekeep, the darkness of the night hiding his pitch black form. The argument with Sebastian earlier had grated on his nerves, the sheer insolence of his own son was not something he would tolerate, not anymore. He was young enough to get another wife and have more children, ones that will be obedient and support his reign. There was also Ciel, he was young enough yet that he could still work. He pondered his options as a warm summer’s night breeze wafted around him, catching softly against his arched wings. A brief noise behind him caught his attention, causing him to hastily stand up and draw his blades. In front of him stood a figure, their body armour catching the moonlight. Nathaniel could tell it was not an angel due to their height and darkened skin, but most of their details were obscured in the darkness. While demons often possessed a respectful level of night vision, Nathaniel’s was notably poor, a fact which was betraying him now.
“Can I help you?” he said with a growl, perturbed by the intrusion.
“I mean you no harm, your majesty,” the individual replied, offering him a bow, “I come with information that you may find interesting.”
“What is your name, stranger?” Nathaniel spoke, his body eased from his initial posture, but the King was still wary.
“Iomor, sir,” Iomor replied, extending his hands out sideways to show he was unarmed. The King knew the name, he was a member of his army and someone who resided within Shadekeep itself.
“Speak.”
“I was out in the Umbral Forest when I came across an incident in the woods, one involving Amnur.” He paused, watching as Nathaniel’s expression soured. “He was informing individuals to leave, as you had ordered their deaths.”
Nathaniel glared, unsure which angle Iomor was going regarding his report. Seeing his glare, Iomor took a deep breath before continuing.
“I gathered you were having him deal with dissidents, I’ve heard reports of increased activity recently. I saw the suspects in question flee into the woods, but they were too numerous for me to deal with, unfortunately.”
“Are you sure this was Amnur you saw?”
“Positive, that firestorm is hard to mistake.”
Nathaniel growled, turning his back to Iomor and thrusting his wings wide. “Thank you, that will be all,” he hissed as he leapt off the top of the keep, taking off into the night. Iomor smirked as he stood there alone. While he was no supporter of Nathaniel, he disapproved of Amnur’s efforts to get close to Sebastian. Informing him of his disobedience will backfire on Amnur badly, Iomor wished he could know exactly what the King had planned.
Chapter 11: Disobedience
Nathaniel’s sudden absence did not go unnoticed, more so to Amnur. Part of him hoped for the best, but due to Sebastian’s lack of action over the fact, he doubted that Nathaniel was dead or known to be dead. If Nathaniel was indeed dead, Sebastian was either unaware of the fact or even potentially involved, keeping quiet for now to hide his involvement. The only thing that made him doubt that claim would be Rin’s silence, if she knew Amnur would’ve expected her to inform him, either directly or cryptically. Such a lack of information put Amnur on edge, the King had disappeared just after the confrontation with Sebastian during the dinner; did he intend to exact some form of revenge on his son? Amnur wondered just what Nathaniel could target in that case, Rin and Ciel were still alive and well in the keep, and he had never seen Sebastian’s mother, nor had Nathaniel ever mentioned her.
He sighed, relaxing in a secluded spot outside of the dark walls of Shadekeep. After the initial day, Amnur found himself wishing to avoid the capital in case Nathaniel was planning something that required his participation, keeping himself hidden from the public eye. Feelings of dread always accompanied him as he returned back to his room and this time was no different but the light of day was starting to fade, he could not remain out much longer. Slowly and with regret, Amnur sat up and gave his wings a final stretch in the open space before standing up, initiating one final stretch and heading off towards the keep.
The inside of Shadekeep was quiet but not unusually so, the shift of the guard was not yet due, so the presence of soldiers was minimal while others who frequent the keep rarely had a reason to be there so late. As he passed the stationed guards, he queried if Nathaniel had been seen, but he was met with a shake of the head and a sigh. He understood their worry; his opinion and troubles with the King aside, his disappearance reflected badly on them, those tasked with defending the keep. While no evidence was found inside Shadekeep regarding a struggle or otherwise, it also didn’t strictly rule out the possibility that something had happened inside and under their noses. The guards had yet to be blamed, but within some groups, the tension was high enough that the guards should’ve been drawn and quartered by now.
Amnur strolled back to his room, fiddling with his key between his fingers. As he passed the stairs that ascended towards the first level of the keep, a cold breeze caused him to shudder and turn his head to the side, where something caught his attention. In the flickering light of the nearby aetherial torch, something was catching the light differently than the darkened walls and floor. He bent down close and inadvertently blocked the light for a second, losing track of the object so he moved to the left to see if it would be revealed once more. To his pleasure, his tactic worked, and soon he was looking at it, so he closed in on it. It appeared to be liquid but exactly what was difficult to identify at first glance, so he took his key and tried to scoop a droplet up to examine the colour. As he lifted his key, he saw that the colour was black. Blood, he was staring at a droplet of demon blood. Amnur unfurled his other hand and sparked a flame to life in his palm, lighting up the area, but no other droplets of blood were immediately visible.
He remained hunched in the position for a moment. Just a single drop of blood was perhaps nothing to worry about. The first floor held the main barracks of the keep, it was entirely possible that the soldiers had been sparring earlier and been too rough with one another, resulting in a small cut that bled while they were going either up or down the stairs. Still, the blood didn’t sit right with Amnur, but short of going to the barracks and questioning everyone, there was little he could do about it. He huffed, grudgingly deciding to stand up and carry on back to his room.
Once again, he was stood level with his chamber door. A quiet noise grabbed his attention but he spotted no one around, and a slight smell picked up on his nose as he idled, but once again nothing appeared untoward. Amnur too
k a deep breath, his nerves were getting the better of him, which he knew. Once he had taken a moment to calm down, he placed the key in the lock and twisted it, pushing on the door handle with his other hand. He stepped into the room and spotted something in the gloom at the far end of the tiny room, something that hadn’t been there before he left. Nervously, he approached the mysterious object, his nose telling him that there was something terribly wrong. He smelt blood, fresh blood. With a gulp, he created a flame in his palm and was met with a dreadful sight; two bodies were slumped against the back wall, their features obscured by heavy lacerations and their bodies positioned in a way that hid their faces.
Shocked and disgusted, Amnur took a step back when he heard the door slam. Fear filled his mind, suffocating his breath and numbing his body. His head jittered as it turned around, his body lagging behind. As he completed his move, he came face to face with an individual standing tall, staring right at him, blocking his way. Nathaniel. Amnur stood still, his eyes frantically darting around, his mouth opened in a shocked, stunned gape. He managed no words as Nathaniel glowered at him, his usual mocking attitude replaced with one of pure, unbridled anger.
“I thought I taught you the consequences of insubordination,” Nathaniel hissed, enough that Amnur could feel specks of spittle on his face. Amnur tried to reply but found all his attempts pitiful. “Disobeying direct orders is one thing, but lying to my damn face? You’ve got some nerve.”
Amnur remained silent, much to Nathaniel’s displeasure. Such was the level of Nathaniel’s irritation that Amnur suddenly ended up on the receiving end of his fist, connecting with his face and knocking him into the wall. The blow snapped Amnur out of his daze, but he was still terrified of his captor. He went to stand but found Nathaniel looming over him, trapping him against the wall.
“I decided that your initial lesson evidently wasn’t enough and so I present you with the next stage of your education,” Nathaniel spoke, gesturing to the two bodies Amnur had spotted only moments earlier. Amnur’s gaze shifted between the overbearing King and the bodies, unsure just who he had targeted; the only thing he knew was that Dumon was not one of them, both bodies had wings where the healer had none. “Look at them, do they perhaps remind you of anyone?”
The mage turned his attention to the bodies and moved towards them, now Nathaniel had moved away enough to allow him access. He pulled one towards him with a gentle tug, and he could see it was a woman or at least guess from what was left of her feminine traits. Nathaniel had been anything but kind in his treatment of his victim, and she showed more damage than the other body, a fact that Amnur put down to her gender. A brief check revealed that the other individual was indeed a man, but his hesitant examination was aggravating Nathaniel, something which was made evident by a growl.
“The faces you fucking idiot, I specifically left them intact for you,” Nathaniel spat, closing the short distance between him and Amnur. Taking a deep breath, Amnur moved closer and placed his hands on either side of the woman’s face, softly turning her head towards him. As he did, his eyes caught sight of the upward pointing horns; a sign of southern heritage. He swallowed hard, the mounting evidence wasn’t showing him anything good, but he dreaded identifying just who these two were. Now the woman’s face was clear in his view, tears streamed uncontrollably down his face. With all the delicate care he could muster, he placed her back down and examined the other body, finding grief and rage building inside him as he looked at his face.
“Such familiar faces aren’t they? She was so overjoyed at the idea of the pride you would bring to the family, and he was proud of your magical prowess,” the King remarked, smirking as he watched the light catch Amnur’s tears as they dripped to the floor below. Amnur suddenly stood up, forcing Nathaniel to take a step back.
“You bastard!” Amnur bellowed with rage, lunging for the King’s currently undefended throat. Unperturbed, Nathaniel just blinked and raised an arm and then used it to slam the mage into the wall. Amnur flared up a potent spell, but before it could achieve any effect, he found himself being crushed against the wall. The pressure then changed to sharp pain as Nathaniel drove his pointed fingers through Amnur’s palms, killing the spell before he could manage to ramp it up. He reopened his eyes after having briefly shut them when the pain hit, only to find Nathaniel’s face pressed to his. The malicious red eyes burned into him as he gasped for air, pain surging through his body. Amnur flailed his legs to kick him, only to be met with a blow to his stomach from Nathaniel’s knee and another for good measure. At this point, Amnur wasn’t sure if the King had swapped from a lesson to murder, given his sour response to his taunts.
The pain continued on and on, with Nathaniel deciding at one point to slide Amnur up the wall, so he was elevated off the ground, before opting to drop him. Amnur fell forward, and his feet touched the floor, unbalancing him and making his knees crash against the floor.
“I hope you finally learn your lesson after this, or the consequences for a third offence will be much, much greater than just the death of your pathetic parents.” He issued one last hit to Amnur in the form of a kick to the chest before marching off, slamming the door behind him. Amnur collapsed forward, laying his head down on the cold, hard stone floor. Blood dripped freely from his injured hands, breaking the silence with the faint sound of droplets. He remained in that position for what felt like a significant period of time, trying to process what had just occurred. The stench of blood assailed his nostrils, making him nauseous. With a sharp breath, he placed his palms on the ground and tried to push himself up, crying out in pain as the damage to his body made itself aggressively known. Still, he continued to try, managing to push himself up to his sore knees and eventually up to his feet.
Now he was on his feet, he leant back on the wall, staring blankly at the mutilated bodies. There was nothing he could do here, not now. He mustered what strength he had left to wander to the one place that had become a sanctuary, locking the door behind him as he staggered off.
He reached the healing chambers and walked in, seeing the figures chatting to one another. Amnur knew one of them to be Dumon and the other he recognised as Kyrith, but he did not wish to talk now. Instead, he pushed past both of them and retreated to the healer’s private room, all the way to the back of the shower. Dumon and Kyrith exchanged worried glances as Amnur staggered past, noticing the bloody handprint that had been left on Dumon’s clothes as Amnur touched him.
“This doesn’t bode well,” Dumon said, teasing his robe to fully reveal the handprint. He studied the stain for a moment to allow Amnur to settle wherever he wished, with Kyrith doing the same; the fact he hadn’t stopped in front of them told them nothing good had happened, and that he was distraught. Kyrith gazed at the main chamber doors periodically, but Dumon shook his head; locking the doors would appear suspect if anyone came past.
Soon they had joined Amnur under the inactive shower; he was lying on the floor with his arms covering his face, breathing shallowly with the sound of sobbing breaking through. Dumon sat by his chest, reaching over and stroking his shoulder with slow sweeps in an attempt to calm him. Kyrith took a more objective approach and strolled around Amnur, checking for visible signs of damage; broken bones, lacerations and wing damage. To his relief, none of those three was apparent, though from the handprint he knew there was damage somewhere. He gestured his lack of findings to Dumon who thanked him, before settling down near Amnur’s head. With an outstretched arm, he navigated to an exposed patch and stroked his hair, unsure what else he could do to calm him right now.
“Shhh, you’re safe here. What happened, Amnur?” Dumon cooed, listening to the mage trying to steady his breathing. “I assume it was Nathaniel; I doubt anyone else here could upset you this much.”
Kyrith huffed but remained quiet, to think Nathaniel was indeed gone was too hopeful, his leisurely disappearance was evidently just another scheme of his. He did query how the King found Amnur’s deception out or was it simply he never
believed him, to begin with? That was something he could try to investigate for Amnur but not now, the how was not important at the moment. Right now he wanted to calm the distraught mage but couldn’t muster anything to say to him, so he just continued stroking his hair. He appeared to be easing, or exhausting, exactly which was hard to say.
“I know he hurt you Amnur, let me help you,” Dumon continued, touching Amnur’s left hand with his free hand. He tried to reach underneath to touch his palm, but Amnur tensed his hand, causing the healer to stop still. The fingers moved, and soon there was a single key stuck out between them which Dumon accepted, noticing it had blood dripping off it. Kyrith offered out a hand to take it off him, and Dumon passed it over, allowing him to investigate the cause of his trauma.
Without a word, the young demon stood up and headed off, leaving Dumon alone with Amnur. He took his hand off the mage’s shoulder and touched his left hand with both hands, feeling the wetness of blood as the edges of his fingers felt Amnur’s palm. Cautiously, he dragged Amnur’s arm until he could see his palm clearly and his face. Amnur opened his eyes and stared at Dumon with an easy to read expression; despair.
“Hey,” Dumon spoke, forcing a small, calming smile for Amnur.
“…Hey,” Amnur replied weakly, resisting the healer’s efforts no longer.
“Good to have you back, now let me have a look at those wounds.” Dumon stared at Amnur’s palm, examining the crude holes left by Nathaniel’s fingers, guessing by the patterning of them. He slowly bent one of Amnur’s fingers backwards, and the demon soon flinched. “Yeah, he did some damage to your hands; conveniently for you, it shouldn’t affect your casting once I stitch them back up.”
Skies of Fyir Box Set Page 10
