Seed of Life

by D.E.P.

Fortis, Invicta, Magni, and Sicarius moved slowly through the trees that had become quite intact, as if forming a barrier to discourage wanderers from proceeding. But the magic that the land contained prevented anyone from ever moving backwards. Forward was the answer even though with every step the wanderers took, the land seemed more horrid, more eroding (deathlike even).

  The small plants that grew along the tree did not have color; they were thorny and black. As Sicarius looked around, she noticed there was no color, not even a drop of golden blood. It seemed deathlike, the place, even though skulls did not lie in the path. Nevertheless, the land seemed calm and tranquil, possibly due to the covering the darkness provided. The woods were clearly dark but it was not a kind of darkness that blinded the men…and woman. It was a rather blue darkness in which a reflected light glowed from the branches of the trees to be shown underneath.

  “What lies before us, my king?” asked Invicta without looking into the king’s gentle eyes that were fixated onto the now greyish ground.

  “I do not know, nor do I want to,” answered Fortis while narrowing his glistening blue eyes that formed a sudden sadness as he looked up towards Invicta. “There is much you have not seen. But I could tell you that I am in need of a warrior, as yourself, as do I need you all. Bodies of water mark our path as well as a majestic castle that will flatter the viewer’s eyes in trickery. Mountains and creatures with extreme difficulty lay closer than time. If we are in luck, we will find a portal.”

  “A portal? Those were destroyed after the Great War. Were they not?” whispered Sicarius, not fully convinced of what she had said.

  “It is true that many were destroyed to lose contact with the traitor that was born in the land. But some portals still lied hidden beyond the inhabitant’s reach. Portals are mysterious, having a power within themselves,” answered the king.

  Sicarius tightened her lips, forming a tight smile as her eyes glistened with a profound sparkle. “And where would such a lost portal lead us to?”

  “The possibilities are endless now that so many are destroyed. It could lead us someplace, somewhere, or sometime,” answered the king knowing all too well of the shocking news.

  “Sometime? No! You don’t mean…” questioned Magni in utter disbelief. Fortis nodded with a straight smile, not showing the possibility of trickery.

  “Yes I do mean what I say. We may go back in time to the days of Malum or possibly to what will become of this land. Portals are strange charmed forces; all are incapable to control its power.”

  “With such a risk, my king, would it not be a better idea to proceed beyond to reach Sapientem’s castle?” asked Sicarius.

  “The boundaries in which this forest lies upon, bordering the evil from the land, only causes one to be trapped here all the longer. Even if you would have ridden back to the castle in an attempt to bring an army to rescue us, the forest would only gain more power. There is no telling if the use of magic from outside its boundaries would help or destroy us,” answered Fortis while proceeding forward, making deep footprints on the dark greyish ground.

  “True. We are already doomed. I am sure magic may be of some use. If only Magicalis would know of our troubles,” confirmed Sicarius, looking at the ground all the more. Her eyes grew darker, a blue that could not be ignored. A sudden anger swept through her body, incapable of calming down.

  “We will get through this. The Man of Magic was certain this turn in our lives would help the land somehow. Perhaps this is why he has not attempted to rescue us,” said the king.

  For the next several minutes a deep silence made up the proceeding journey. Fallen branches crushed beneath the king’s weight. Leaves crackled beneath Sicarius’s feet. Gasps of disdain came from Magni as he protruded his upper lip and rolled his eyes in boredom. Incvicta polished his golden sword, careful not to stab himself with his own weapon. The cloth that he used was clear, forming ridges and wrinkles, incapable of becoming golden with the sword’s magic.

  A sudden crinkling noise was heard from afar. It was not one that was strong or aggravating to hear, but a noise that seemed calming as the encounters eased forward eagerly.

  “What a strange noise. Must be a stream of some sort,” stated Sicarius, her dominating blue eyes sparkling mischievously.

  Invicta and Magni did not look back towards their companions. It was as if the stream produced a sort of mist incapable of ignoring. The stream gave off an odor, one that was strong and smelled of flowers beneath the steady waves. It gave off a refreshing smell that guided the dwellers towards the enchanted stream. It did not take much thought. Their legs quickly raced first up a small grey hill and then downwards, leading to a refreshing aqua colored stream.

  At first the four of them stood at the edge, not knowing what to do next. A small waterfall positioned between two metallic blue boulders, not bigger than 10 feet in length, caused the noise that the dwellers had heard from afar. Small pinkish plants stretched their long thin leaves, causing a pinkish reflection on the calm stream that proceeded to the right.

  Magni, enchanted by the water’s magic, knelt by the edge. He cupped his hands and lowered them underneath the stream’s surface. He felt a sudden movement by his hands and he quickly jolted up, his shoulders stretching inward with the sudden reflex. Nevertheless, he raised the cupful of water and drank from it, shaking his head with admiration.

  “Do not drink from it just yet! This land is enchanted,” noted Fortis, widening his eyes.

  But it was too late. The water had already been drunk and the waters were awakening. Before they could give a second thought, the stream shimmered, causing ripples to form in odd places. It stirred as if droplets of water had come crashing down on the peaceful waters.

  The waters reflected the dweller’s emotions as they backed away cautiously. Where the ripples formed, hair appeared, floating onto the calm waves of the stream. The blonde hair that made up the creature rose to the surface, showing the soft rosy complexion of the woman in the waters. A fuchsia shell with thin spikes on one side was used as a hair clip, hanging on the left side of the radiant gliding hair. The young creature smiled curiously as if attempting to flirt with Magni who was the closest to the shoreline.

  None of the dwellers looked down below. For if they had, they would have seen precious golden and other metallic skulls that once shown strong and young. Their fate was death, a fate that seemed vitally close to the king and his companions. Sicarius did not seem mesmerized for the moment, until where a ripple had formed, another head appeared, a divine and muscular figure. The male figure winked at Sicarius who quickly smiled and moved her right leg nervously from side to side. The male figure rose up, exposing his chiseled chest which was far more toned than Sicarius’s companions. The muscles protruded outwards in unbelieving designs that captivated Sicarius in a steady visual position. She sat atop a rock that was nearby and smiled profoundly for her lover to come closer.

  But the man stayed behind, motioning for her to go towards him instead. “Venit ad me, mea gemma Come towards me, my jewel,” whispered the young man quietly as he pulled back his dry hair.

  But Sicarius did not move. She frowned while her eyes narrowed outwards. She knew all too well that such things failed to happen even in a land as wonderful as the one she was in. The young man swam quietly towards Sicarius despite noticing her sudden disapproval. Two other women appeared. One had a mystifying blue colored hair while the other one contained a deep red color much like fresh impure blood on a given blade. The blue hair of the creature was in a bun, having two long bangs hanging steadily in a curved stance around the sides of her gentle facial expression of peace. The red hair of the female creature was long, hanging behind her bare back in a wavy fashion.

  The women also came closer to get the men’s attention. The stream abided with their motions as all four figures made steady strokes to the edge of the stream. The king lifted up his sword, knowing that the creatures posed a vital threat, for they were sirens. But the red haired sire
n knew the king’s plan far before he raised the blade. She shook her head from side to side, forming a rather strange and wicked smile. From beneath the water she took out a small golden harp. Her eyes, more green than brown, looked towards the king in a flattery manner. She moved her right index finger back and forth. “Non, non, non. Non ludere ludos circa hic No, no, no. We don't play those games around here,” she stated softly, with a voice that was calm but full of flames. She was tranquil and knew she would win the battle without even the use of a blade. Raising one rosy finger with a vine-like design, she stroke once, then twice, then three times. She smiled all the more with each stroke of her instrument.

  The king failed to lower his sword to fulfill his objective in striking the divine creature before him. His eyes became stern in anger as they narrowed before his enemy. His hands shook and trembled, trying hard to reach the woman and slice her throat. But the siren was far smarter. She opened her mouth, the plump pink lips widening wickedly to form a word. She froze in that stance for only a second, as if mocking the king, for she knew that the king was soon to be enchanted by her beauty and her voice. The song she sang had much more rhythm than the music that came from the small golden harp that covered her chest. She rose up from the waters, the waves slowly crashing against her body. The birds could not be compared to the soft high pitched voice the siren contained. The rhythm of the song rose up and down; a song that was enchanted and divine.

  The three other sirens, the young man and the other two ladies, also rose up, each containing a harp of their own, sparkling with the water’s bright light. The king dropped his sword. It seemed to drop slowly; the blade dug diagonally into the ground, causing grey dirt to fly into the air.

  The king was not content, however. He frowned in wonder and confusement. The ladies in the stream could not compare to the beauty his wife brought to him. Noticing the king’s disappointment, the blue haired siren lowered herself into the waters, smiling impishly through the process as the surface of the stream blended in with her celestial hair.

  “It cannot be!” yelled the king in anger.

  The siren rose up within a few seconds, the hair slowly turning into a pitch black color, darker than the blue light that filled the edges of the stream’s surroundings. Her eyes opened, a bright purple color staring vibrantly at the king. It seemed as if the woman was in a trance until the face smoothed, beholding the face of a true beauty—the king’s wife.

  The red haired siren pierced her lip while using her right index finger to twirl her wavy long hair. She stared at Magni, sinking herself into the young man’s mind, knowing all that ever was and what was presently amidst. She knew his secrets as she quickly giggled in a flattery behavior. She lowered herself into the waters as her sister had, until the profound red color of her hair drifted off with the stream’s current.

  “Where did that beast go?” asked Magni who was laying only inches away from the water’s edge.

  “If I could guess correctly, she will be appearing as a woman you have only dreamed of. Not surprising, really, that you have not found her,” said Sicarius rather earnestly despite her eyebrows rising up in a frown.

  “Oh no. This cannot be!” shouted Magni, holding his head with both of his hands. He looked at the king who was inching nearer to the waters. Then he looked at the siren that had converted herself into the king’s wife. Magni shook his head, knowing who the siren was becoming.

  Black strands of hair began forming, revealing the woman the ruby-haired creature had become. Her eyes narrowed in concern. They were blue, those eyes. They were vibrant. They were deathly. The face was pale, a white that seemed to go with the facial features of the woman. She was a beautiful sight indeed, for she looked like a beautiful assassin, because she was…and is.

  “What magic is this?” questioned Sicarius suddenly in anger. She had stared long enough at the man before her, only noticing the black hair of the woman from the corner of her eye.

  The siren moved onto the edge of the stream, holding onto the sides of the rocky edge that formed the barrier of the water. She seemed innocent as she shivered, possibly due to the coldness of the waters. Or perhaps it was an act in itself. Magni stared at her. He neither smiled nor seemed astonished as the woman that had converted herself as Sicarius rose up towards him, her head only showing itself.

  Fortis took off the white cloak he had carried throughout the forest. He knelt beside the stream as Magni had. Invicta stood beside the awe-stricken Sicarius.

  “Is that you?” asked Invicta laughing with benign amusement.

  “What is going on here? I’m not some timid little runt!” yelled Sicarius while the twin siren only merely stared at her with innocent glaring eyes.

  The siren inched closer to her brother who swam to the shoreline. “Flos, quid faciens Flos, what are you doing?” asked the male siren as he raised his muscular arms from the water as to not wet them.

  “Non curae vobis Never mind you!” yelled the twin siren at her brother. Her mouth opened slightly, bestowing a set of thin sharp teeth as blue as the waters. She continued glaring at Magni, trying to get him closer to her mouth.

  “Fortis, mea ensis Fortis, my blade,” said the siren that had the appearance of the queen. She inched forward towards the edge, the waters forming a sort of majestic dress around her bare body.

  “Regina, potuit esse Queen, could it be?” spoke the king in the same language, moving his tongue and mouth profoundly to form the correct wording.

  “Sum expectantes vobis mea I have been waiting for you, my love,” answered the beautiful siren who patiently awaited the king’s presence in the waters.

  “Neque Fortim obnoxium Were you not in the clutches of Furtim?” questioned the king suddenly.

  The siren pierced her lips. She raised both of her arms to run her thin tender fingers through her soft hair. Her eyes sparkled, hoping to attract and mesmerize the king, for she knew he was an important soul to take upon. She looked downwards until slowly glaring at the king’s reflection with a saddened expression. “Furtim habet insidiatur me. Nunc ponere in aquae usque a rex ut te largitur me osculum Furtim has tricked me. I now lay in these waters until a king as yourself bestows me a kiss,” The siren smiled slowly and hopefully, raising her body from the waters in an attempt to lay her lips on the king’s.

  The king continued staring at the siren. His eyes began to take a golden color as he was put in a trance. The siren once again took out her harp, and with a motion of her hand, a tranquil tune filled the silent air between the king and her.

  “Ad me, Sicarius Come to me, Sicarius” said the male siren while rising up a larger golden harp, “Ut ludo te cantus ipse May I play you a tune myself?” The siren’s eyes moved in a peculiar way, as if trying to pull Sicarius into the waters from the safe heaven she was in.

  “Ego sum impotens amandi I am incapable of loving,” stated Sicarius as she looked at the ground below, forgetting the fact that a cloned Siren laid inches away from her. Invicta slowly walked towards the water’s edge where the blonde siren floated as if she had died. He peered over the water’s surface, over the female’s body, over her face.

  “Fortis ego sum vere hic. Non te tuae regina amor Fortis I am really here. Won't you show your queen your love?” asked the queen siren as she raised her right eyebrow in question.

  “Utique Of course,” stated the king as he touched the water with his feet, submitting himself to the trap.

  The eyes opened suddenly and the beautiful smile that had greeted the arrivals, turned into a wicked grin.

  “Ah!” yelled Invicta rather femininely. But the sight was far from haunting. Just before Invicta could escape the clutches of the sleepless siren, a kiss was captured. It started off as a small one, nothing more than the slightest touch of the plump lips. But it was far from over. The kiss that seemed to have only taken a second turned into several more seconds. Invicta’s expression formed of anguish until relaxing to an amusing and heavenly expression. His eyes, that had on
ce exposed a vibrant green color, closed and tightened as his cheeks rose up, forming a wide smile.

  The expression was quite haunting. It was not that Sicarius did not wish to end the trance upon the others. It was not that Sicarius was weak and naïve about her surroundings. Her head had begun to take pain as swapped images of what was before her contaminated her mind. Sicarius walked dreamily towards Invicta, her sight playing tricks on her. The male siren slowly played a tune, one that seemed to put a sleep on Sicarius as she tried to overcome it. Drunk-like, she stumbled on some broken twigs that lay on the ground. She crawled ever so slowly towards her enemy, her eyes blinded by her black bands that covered the hatred shown in her eyes.

  “Forma, eius anima! Nimium diu te rapiunt. Ego nisi portare ecstasi diu! Osculatus es iam complete eum mittunt ab aquis Take his soul now! you are taking far too long. I could only carry the trance for so long! You have kissed him, now jump from the waters and finish him off!” yelled the male siren in exasperation as he rose the golden harp with his right hand and exposed his muscular broad chest that spoke with his anger. His eyes glowed a greyish color as he formed a fist to punch the waters.

  Sicarius awoke from the trance, having crawled to where Invicta and his newly found deathly lover laid kissing. The siren was far from hearing or listening to her brother’s words. Sicarius took the opportunity to take out her desired weapon—the diamond ditcher dragger—and slash at the beast’s hand that caressed Invicta’s face with a calm smoothness. The dagger sliced into the woman’s flesh, causing a bluish blood to ease out of the long thin cut.

  “Expectare vicissim, mea princeps. Ego libenter interficiam iugulum cum dentes Wait for your turn, my princess. I'll be glad to cut your throat with my teeth!” stated the siren, emphasizing the word ‘cut’ as she stated her words with anger. Her eyes sparkled all the more and her smile grew by far more wicked than before. Invicta stared at the siren before him, seeing the truth behind the beautiful creature. Her skin turned into a greyish blue color, her face transforming to something rather demonic and deformed. Where her facial skin nicely covered her face, it sunk in the many gaps that made up her skull.

  “Puto fortasse erit qui gladium meum gustum I think perhaps it may be you that will have a taste of my dagger,” said Sicarius evilly. She displayed the blade in her palms as her pale fingers touched the smooth surface of the blade’s side.

  “Bis usus verbis apud me putes, pecus! Ruptum enim maledictionem et statim desinet fatum You might think twice before using such words on me, beast! For the curse has been broken and I shall end your destiny at once,” the siren stated angrily. Without giving a thought about ending Invicta’s life first, her anger built up as she soared from the waters towards Sicarius.

  Invicta was suddenly disgusted, having kissed a live corpse. He saw Magni and the king, both to his sides. They were both speaking calmly to the smiling sirens who awaited them in the waters. The male siren continued playing the harp, causing the waters to turn angry in the once tranquil and peaceful environment. The waters leapt and dropped, rose and fell, crashing down on all of those who submitted themselves to the water. The waters, however, did work on Sicarius’s side as it formed a wide barrier from the siren’s grasp. Within seconds Magni rose to the surface of the waters by whom the siren quickly kissed. The king was nowhere to be found, neither was the siren that had converted herself into a fake queen of the king’s.

  Invicta did not think twice before he dived into the depths of the waters in search of the king and his beautiful enemy. He knew the task would be rather difficult, as he found the queen to be one that defined beauty. The waters were not deep, only twice as deep as Invicta’s height. Several plants, many with sharp wavy stems, scarred Invicta’s unarmored body. The armor lay on the shore by which the siren had most likely taken off during his fantasy with her. The water was not a piercing cold as he thought it would be. Rather, it provided a warm tingling feeling with a slight coldness that seemed to electrify his body.

  Looking down below, Invicta noticed the lighted floor was bright due to the reflection of the light above the waters. The sand was light grey, providing shadows of the water. Invicta rose up, swimming two more feet to gasp for air. His chest sunk inward as he breathed a mighty breath before swimming down below once again. He did not know if he would die, but the king was far more worthy than him, as so he thought. Skulls laid only halfway covered by the grey sand, causing a deathly feeling in the calm waters.

  He followed the shadows, finally spotting the siren’s black hair behind the cluster of long seaweed that rose a few feet below the surface of the waters. She kissed the king passionately, removing the sword by which he clutched. The king had picked the sword up before submitting himself to the siren, the queen of his dreams. His belt was easily loosened and the clothing that was behind his armory was ripped apart with swiftness, for the siren’s nails grew long and sharp, tearing the fabric into pieces. The clothing slowly drifted off into the waters, slowly into the depths. Invicta grabbed the clothing that had slowly moved towards him, behind the vegetation that blocked his view of the siren as it moved with the waters current.

  The clothing was simple, just a plain white outfit of the silky substance made of the ancient plants of the land. As Invicta rose up, the blue metallic seaweed no longer drifted from left to right. It was quickly spread to the sides, revealing the true ‘beauty’ of the deathly creature. Her face was cursed, for the grey skin wrapped tightly along the bones, giving the siren the appearance of a living corpse. “Alpha aucupium sunt nos Eavesdropping are we?” questioned the siren, her hair drifting from her skull until changing to the bold blackened hair the queen boasted.

  Before the siren changed into a clone of the queen, Invicta quickly looked down below in fear that he would submit himself ever so easily to the wicked siren. He saw the shadow, knowing that the siren was in reach. He brought the sword to his back, having the blade lay upon the back of his head as he heard the siren’s last words.

  “Respice ad me stulte Pulchra sum non sum? Ultimum spirat erit in agone enim potest spirare. Age contra. Oscula me et certe te Look at me you fool! I am beautiful am I not? Your last breaths will be in agony, for I can breathe underwater. You cannot on the other hand. Kiss me and I will surely give you life,” said the siren, snickering impishly with each word she formed. Her eyebrows narrowed inwardly and her smile grew, exposing the tips of the thinly sharpened teeth beneath her plump lips that had ended many lives with a kiss.

  “Spero te non monstrum I trust you not, you monster!” yelled Invicta as he exposed his weapon and stabbed the creature in the depths of the stream. The siren stared at Invicta, her face turning remorseful and innocent. She looked at the deep wound the sword caused. She did not look angry; it was as if she had witnessed the violent acts of a traitor.

  It was surprising how one was able to talk underwater and hear the rhythm of the words. “Quomodo audent occidis regina! Nisi scirem vos esse scelus homicida similis est ei. Exitus hic vitae aquis indignus es vita How dare you kill my queen! I knew you were nothing more than a villain, a murderer much like my brother. Your life will end here in the waters, for you are unworthy to live!” yelled the king with a sudden anger. His eyes grew with hatred as he raised the sword he had picked from the water’s depths. Invicta looked back at the siren before having his neck squeezed by the king’s strong hands. The siren had not turned into the golden statue he was hoping for. Instead she smiled peculiarly, uncovering her wound and revealing the smooth and healthy skin that made up her curved abdomen.

  Invicta nearly choked, not knowing for sure if it was lack of oxygen or the fact that the king’s fingers tightly wrapped around his neck, pressuring his esophagus. He only looked back, noticing that the siren was swimming to the surface as well. Why didn’t those sirens just kill them? What were they waiting for? Invicta and the king rose to the surface of the waters. Invicta immediately gasped for air, his breaths croaking due to the pressure on his throat. The siren calmly
jumped onto a boulder that lay close to the shore, eager to see the entertainment unravel.

  Sicarius had enough problems on her own as she lay in the waters. The male siren had quickly kissed her, moving his lips in a soothing way while having drips of the cool water fall upon Sicarius’s pale face. She did not succumb, however. She slapped the siren’s face with the hilt of her dagger, causing the young man’s face to reveal its true figure until returning to the handsomeness he had once displayed.

  “Ego non cor. Stulti capere intelligere unum post aliud. Mirum finem vitae ejus I have no heart. You fools seize to understand one time after another. It is not surprising your life will end because of it,” smiled Sicarius, exposing a few demonic features herself as she raised her dagger towards the water’s blue light and stabbed the heart of the male siren. The heart’s pulse slowed until it failed to provide blood to the beast. His face turned innocent, his pupils becoming darker and his mouth gaping with mercy. But Sicarius had not mercy, for her heart was stolen years ago. And she stabbed the neck of the siren, pushing him into the depths of the waters for the underwater vines to feed off of. The eyes of the siren were never to be seen again as they drifted underneath.

  “Quid est hoc? Quomodo ausus es parricidio! Securi faciam tibi Ephraim quid faciam pater meus dolor What is this? How dare you kill my brother! I will surely behead you, something my father will surely be proud of,” said the blonde siren in disgust, her teeth gaping widely as if to scare a demon herself.

  “Satis attrahenti vere. Sentiret ita, hmm quid verbum .…ah eleemosyna. Sentiret ita sublevandis mergi cultrum adipiscing primo accepit dum mergi per quod ingens pec, sed supervacuum dicere factum It was quite fascinating really. It felt so, hmm what’s the word…ah relieving. It felt so relieving to sink the knife in. At first it took a while to sink through that massive pec, but needless to say it was done.),” stated Sicarius rather sarcastically as she moved her eyes towards the siren. It was obvious she was making a joke out of the recent murder as she grinned and quietly snickered loud enough for the siren to hear. She was enjoying the siren’s face, the nostrils flaring out, and her hair seemingly gliding with the wind as if aflame.

  “Aenean volutpat utinam sero veniam petere I really hope it's not too late to ask for forgiveness?” asked Sicarius innocently. She formed a frown above her eyes, as if to plead mercy. But the Siren’s fury had ignited to its highest capability. She lanced from the rock and onto Sicarius as a dress of water formed around her body. She had kissed an inhabitant as did all of her sisters. She was now able to walk upon the land without the need of water. Time was ticking, if she wanted to reach the waters alive. She had to kill Sicarius quickly. Sicarius swam to the shore, forming long strokes on the surface. “Nam tempus dwindling me, ne superbum. Nam tu sola perducit ad mortem citius Time is dwindling for me, something you should not be proud of. For it only leads to a faster death in your part,” the blonde siren whispered with her sly tongue.

  The siren was behind Sicarius, having only missed her toes by a mere stride to the side. The siren moved her soft feet up and down, forming a tail suitable for racing through the waters. The siren’s eyes looked towards the distance, for she was determined. Bubbles raced past her, but the water continued to remain before her. She saw the feet of Sicarius swimming rather quickly. The blonde siren made an attempt to reach her foot, dragging it to the depths of the water along with her.

  Magni gasped for air, but the siren continued to smother her lips onto his. His armory lay on the shoreline, along with the satin clothing he used to cover his chest. All below his chest was covered, except for his feet that moved with the water’s current. The siren from time to time, took off a garment, in hopes to create an offspring herself; she destined to carry on the tradition and history of the Sirens.

  “Me spirant Sicarius Let me breathe Sicarius,” Invicta finally said, able to evade another kiss from the siren whom had the appearance of Sicarius.

  "Magni, non amare me Magni, do you not love me?” questioned the siren, only to amuse herself. She looked at the water’s reflection before her. She lifted her head up in hopes that Magni had not seen her true self. She feared that his trance would not subject to her.

  Magni only frowned, unsure of what he had seen. Nevertheless, the frown drifted from his face as he looked into the eyes of the siren once again. “Ego amare care. Sed spirat sunt decet vix I love you dearly. But my breaths are becoming scarce,” replied Magni as he took one deep breath after another as if he was at the brink of drowning.

  She held his hands and then wrapped her arms and legs around him. “Ne moreris propter me Wouldn't you die for me?” whispered the siren into Magni’s ears. Small droplets of the cool water dripped from the corners of Magni’s ears.

  “I utinam I would,” stated Magni. And it was that word that would ultimately put his life into jeopardy.

  Invicta himself had a few problems to face as he struggled to breathe with his choked throat. He grabbed a dagger from his side and sliced through the king’s hand. It was not a deep cut, only thin enough to cause the king to react and release his stubborn grip.

  The siren laughed femininely, enjoying the fight proceeding before her. Her body was covered by the body of water, allowing her to thrive as she sat on the boulder away from the waters underneath.

  “I have long called you friend. But now I call you my enemy!” roared the king. He hastily wiped the small amount of golden blood that rose to the surface from the thin wound. His face shown red, something even Invicta had never seen in such a humble man. The king was furious. The siren’s laughter was heard in the background. Finding it hard to use his blade to sink into Invicta’s flesh, the king threw his spade to the shore. The spade flew rapidly, soaring and spinning until it reached a tall thin tree, engraving itself into the silvery trunk. Fortis clenched his right fist, pulling his arm back to gather enough force to cause Invicta’s jaw to bleed. Invicta’s left side of the face fell onto the surface of the water. The king was slightly bigger than Invicta’s muscular body. It would be a challenge facing a man as the king, especially if he did not wish to kill him.

  Invicta knew the only solution to the problem was killing the siren herself. Only then would the king fully understand the seriousness of the problem. The siren lay upon the rock giggling; she would never know what would become of her. Ignoring the pain from his left jaw, Invicta swam beneath the waters. The siren would not be able to see his shadow as it approached the floating boulder above. Slowly he drifted his body to the back side of the boulder, hoping to surprise the siren without her knowing.

  He leapt from the waters as several white droplets splashed across his face, blocking his view. Nevertheless, he raised his golden blade and swung to the left side, hoping to behead the beast. But he did not hit a thing, only the air which was not much of a victory. The large rock was vacant.

  He turned around promptly, knowing the siren would try to kill him herself. Just as he suspected, he turned around to the snickering of the siren’s demonic face. He quickly looked downwards, evading the siren’s fake beauty. “Non sum stultus, ut tibi videmur. Levare oculos, non vos I am not as foolish as you think. Lift those eyes, won't you?” said the siren’s voice softly. She began to raise her golden harp, hoping to trance her close prey. Invicta pushed the harp away, having it rise into the air before splashing into the waters from the siren’s grasp.

  “Faciam ut dicis. Meam do vobis regnum, regina I will do as you say. I give up my kingdom for you, my queen,” surrendered Invicta, slowly rising his head to view the queen’s divine beauty. “Tuae est ita serena. Filiae et filii erit, quasi divino Your beauty is so serene. Your daughters and sons will surely be as divine.”

  “Sunt erit sic. Somnum mihi virum. Hoc est fata They will surely be so. Sleep with me, my warrior. This is destiny,” motioned the siren by moving her gentle hand across his face.

  Invicta had not yet raised his head entirely; his eyes only laid visible on the surface of the water. It was odd ho
w the waters worked. It raised the beasts before him, but it also allowed the victim to evade death. “Est problematis autem There is one problem, however,” said Invicta quickly. He formed a wicked smile even the siren could see at her prey’s angle. He felt his side for the blade, but it was gone. The siren had carefully taken most of his weapons without his knowing.

  He reached the pockets underneath his metal belt, finally finding a second dagger. “Et dico: Non facies comparare. Quare ut amare What I mean is, I cannot compare to your beauty. Why would you love someone as I?,” stated Invicta, hoping the siren did not find his behavior suspicious.

  “Est non. Amor multo maiorem non esse putas? Et pro ea mori cupiunt It is not so. Love is far more powerful don't you think? Men wish to even die for it,” answered the siren, showing no sign of suspicion as she grabbed Invicta’s neck.

  “Esset vobis mori pro me Would you die for me?” stalled Invicta, providing a question the siren had asked others instead.

  “Utinam vobis Would you?” questioned the siren in a slithery manner. She was impatient, her eyes glowing with frustration.

  Invicta placed his hands before him, each containing a dagger. The siren came closer to him, attempting to put him into a trance of her own doing. But before she could ever succeed, Invicta stabbed her abdominal area. With his blade, he searched along the body for the place in which her heart beat. Finding the region, he swiftly dug both blades into the siren’s skin, piercing her blue heart and ultimately ending her life. The body fell to the bottom, floating at first until sinking below the long seaweed that stretched tall and strong. Only one bubble formed, and it would be the last one that would rise to the surface.

  Invicta took his time to view the body underneath. The corpse was deathly. The eyes stared towards the life above, staring directly at Invicta as if attempting to lure him beneath the waters forever at her side. The siren was dead and her enchantment had the same fate. As Invicta raised his head, he was choked once again by the king. He gasped for air, knowing the king would end his life because of the trance put on him by the siren. One of his daggers fell into the waters, sinking besides the dead siren. “Where is she? I will snap your neck if you do not answer!” yelled the king. His anger was uncontrollable. His eyes had darkened. His faced seemed to have aged. He was not the man he used to be.

  Invicta quickly made another thin cut along the king’s arm with his other blade. Before the king could react, Invicta wrapped his arm around Fortis’s neck and dragged him into the depths of the water. The deathly and disgusting corpse that lay below greeted the king as the king finally regained his sensibility. Invicta rose out of the waters, leaving the king by himself underneath. The king knelt beside the corpse, using the underwater vines to keep himself from rising out of the waters. He formed deep wrinkles on his face as he moved his head back and forth in remorse.

  Invicta noticed the king had yet not risen. He plunged his head into the waters, noticing that the king had stayed, most likely in an attempt to die for the cause. The king looked above to the staring eyes of Invicta. His eyes asked for forgiveness and for Invicta not to attempt in rescuing him. “I have been a fool. I deserve to die. I offer you the crown,” stated the king, looking onto the white floor in await for his death. But Invicta would have none of it. He cut through the vines, having the stems fall to the sides of the king as the king’s body began to rise. “Do not be selfish my king. The others are in need of help!” yelled Invicta in anger. The king struggled to sink. His body became wild as that of an agitated snake.

  Invicta had no option but to swim to the king, hold him by his arm, and drag him to the shore. The king made a great attempt to loosen Invicta’s grip and to leave himself to die underneath the waters. He gripped Invicta’s arm with great force, trying to escape life itself. But Invicta refused to let him fulfill his deathly goal. As they reached the shoreline, the king was finally released. He kneeled down on the white sand, his hands squeezing the soft dirt until it eased out of the corners of his clutched fists.

  “Why did you do this Invicta?” questioned the confused king, “Especially after I tried killing you?”

  “It was not you trying to kill me, my king. It was a trance. Remember that,” answered Invicta calmly. “We have to find the others. They may be at the clutches of the siren’s trickery.”

  The king and Invicta raced towards the right side of the stream, each with their recently found blades extended from their right hands. Sicarius had both of her diamond ditcher draggers up to the sides of her shoulders as the blonde siren and herself walked in circles. They each anticipated for who would yield the weapon first. Magni lay below the waters with the deathly siren flattering him beyond what was imaginable.

  “ERRO hominibus Hac pugna inter me et sit princeps Get lost men! This is a fight between this little princess and me,” hissed the blonde siren. The king jumped into the waters in search of Magni while Invicta observed Sicarius and the siren, if anything may lead to Sicarius’s death.

  “Huic pugnae dabo vobis I'll give this duel to you,” stated Invicta as he laid his back against a large rock, knowing all too well that Sicarius would win this battle.

  The siren motioned her hand along the waves of the stream, collecting a cupful of rich blue water. Throwing the water into the air, the droplets formed an arrow around four feet in length, sharp enough to fulfill the siren’s hopes of killing her enemy—Sicarius.

  “Bene. Hoc bellum est non vestrum. Experiar quid non arcu miserabilis hospes, si quidem sit unum Very well. This battle is not yours. Do not in any way try to save your pathetic friend, if in fact she is one,” said the siren in a strictly manner. She tilted her head in laughter, turning her head towards Invicta with a piercing stare. “Nisi vis ad auxilium Unless you want to help?” questioned the Siren as she smiled wickedly before the man. Spinning swiftly once, she transformed her body into what Invicta would see as a divine sight, far more beautiful than what he had just witnessed.

  Invicta stared at the siren, not knowing that he was in a trance himself. Sicarius, noticing Invicta’s effect, raced towards the siren, her head throbbing with anger. “Obtuli tibi iustus bellum, vobis pythonissam! Te decepit me I offered you a just battle, you witch! You have deceived me!” screamed Sicarius with rage. A small amount of spit raced onto the beautiful siren’s face, just above her quivering upper lip. The siren blocked the daggers with the long weaponry, the water forming into an ice seemingly more mighty than the weapon held by Sicarius. Yet, it seemed to slowly begin to shatter. She pushed the daggers away from her face, causing Sicarius to stumble backwards.

  The siren moved her right hand above her upper lip, catching the small amount of saliva slowly dripping downwards. She formed a malevolent smile as she flicked the spit to the side. “Ego tantum liceat mortem fieri citius. Te esse beatum me vere. Sunt quem videre ad impar temporibus, numquam mulier. Mulier nequam in aquas, solum idoneum cibum in a concha I have only allowed your death to happen sooner. You should be happy for me, really. Men are whom we see at odd times, but never a woman. Women are worthless in our waters, only suitable as food in a conch,” spat the siren. Her burnette hair curled wildly behind her soft and moistened white skin. Her eyes, those eyes, its eyes…they were piercing, producing a worst stare than Sicarius. They were the first things one saw, the dark outlines of the eyes which led to the green emeralds in the middle motioning one to obey. The eyes seemed liquefied, as if a sort of yellow fire flickered in the background, boiling the green substance before it. She seemed quite simple, her skin having not much detail, but yet she seemed much more beautiful beyond all others. How was this to be? Beauty works in mysterious ways.

  Sicarius felt a shadow approach her. She knew at once that it was Invicta, the one who was destined to save her from the witch before her. The siren smiled all the more, noticing Sicarius’s eyes move from side to side in confusion. Sicarius leapt into the air, moving her legs blissfully over her head to form a flip, until landing behind Invicta himself. The siren b
egan to sing, her voice moving like the waves of the stream, as if causing the richness of the water’s reflection. The song was quite beautiful itself, telling the story of the lost world of a siren, a poetry carefully crafted without the need of a harp playing in the foreground. Invicta walked slowly towards Sicarius, his chest fully exposed, much broader than Sicarius could have hoped for at the moment. She regained her energy, forming an X in front of her head in order to block the racing spade heading for her.

  The blades were the only thing protecting her from the golden mystical weapon that tried so mightily to pierce flesh and convert it into gold. “Invicta! You are in a trance once again! Awake!” yelled Sicarius in hopes that Invicta would awaken. But it was far too difficult to get Invicta to realize his fate. It was if a deep fog prevented him from seeing reality, much less think. He continued staring at Sicarius as if he were a zombie, the living dead, unaware of what was or is.

  Sicarius knew it would be far too problematic to attack the sinister creature before her, especially since the siren was using Invicta as a defense mechanism. Sicarius had the urge of throwing her daggers at the siren, but it was fear that stopped her. She feared that the weapons would fail in piercing the heart of the figure before her. She kicked Invicta on his protruding chest, only making him stumble backwards a few steps. Sicarius ran towards Invicta, kneeling down in the process and sliding underneath his extended legs. The siren’s smile turned into a brisk bewilderment. She laughed only to make the situation seem an easy task for her. Her watery dress made of fresh white droplets turned into a light green, made out of the underwater vines which encircled her body in mysterious ways. They were alive, those vines, much like the Vines of Fatum.

  The king had dived into the water, causing droplets to fly into the air and return to the stream in which the king was now succumbed in. Magni was clearly seen underwater, his eyes amused by the woman before him. The siren knew of the king’s presence and she developed a plan to have him yield to her. “Oportet te ita esse, rex? Paulo cantus ut auxilium vobis sentire magis consolatoria in meam Must you be so far, my king? A little tune may help you feel more comfortable in my presence,” stated the siren as she snarled at him.

  The king was far too weak to defend himself from the mystical force within the siren. Her weapon was far more dangerous than his spade of petrification. His heart began to beat at a faster pace as the siren sang of the power Malum had brought to the land and how he would return to destroy the weak. She slurred these words with such rhythm and passion that one could clearly see the picture form in one’s thoughts.

  As the king neared closer to the siren, the beautiful beast smiled, knowing that the king was now in her grasp. Her black hair floated wildly around her pale skin, her eyes being the only true color as she narrowed them to have the king obey.

  Sicarius moved forward despite the deathly appearance of the siren. The vines moved along the surface of the siren’s arms and into her hands as she clasped her fingers around the live rope. Containing a grim facial expression, Sicarius leapt upwards. She formed an X once again, this time to easily slice through the slender neck of the woman. But her goal was not met, for Invicta had almost flown behind her as he flipped into the air. A golden spade leapt at Sicarius, behind the siren’s neck. The siren smiled, moving her head underneath the dangerous weapon. Sicarius’s slender body was able to evade death as she moved her head backwards, bending her knees in the process.

  “Non tam facile putasti Not as easy as you thought?” questioned the siren without waiting for an answer, “Principem meum esse in vita nihil prosperum habebitis My little princess, there are things in life even you cannot win.” The siren smiled, twirling her arrow in between her slender and soft fingers. The vines along her hands stretched out at Sicarius, knocking her feet from the ground until she lay defenseless and weak. The vines slowly crept along the vampire’s body, easing along her legs and arms. The slime only escalated the uncomfortable feeling the vines provided. The more Sicarius struggled, sliding away in an attempt to escape the grasp of the vines, the more the vines tightened around her pale flesh to keep her on the ground by the trunk of a silver tree.

  “Ego vos nunc meum Principem. Tu putas te vincere me? Existimasti frater quidem ei caderet. Audivi et multa scire secreta abscondas! Ira ferre! Cur permanent proelio terram hanc Estne aliquid tibi manet? Credo ut mi. Est mortis I have you now my little princess. Did you really think you could defeat me? Of course my brother thought you would fall for him. I have heard and know many secrets you hide! The anger you bear! Why do you continue fighting for this land? Is there something in store for you? I believe so my dear. It is death!,” whispered the siren with a ghastly stare.

  Sicarius spit at the siren, the droplet of moist saliva flying into the air until landing on the siren’s cheeks with a mighty splat. The siren’s smile turned into one of anger, more fitting to her true figure. “Est rex docerem vos non mores Vester parvulus, defensionem Ipsum non refert anyways nunc quod habeam vos ad vestígia mea! Honorato sicarius morietur tonight Has the king taught you no manners? Your little defense technique won't matter anyways now that I have you at my footsteps! An honored assassin will die tonight!” screamed the siren, causing the rather tranquil environment to have a deathly feeling.

  Sicarius could no longer talk, for a vine sliding along her red lips prevented any such thing from happening. Her eyes showed the anger she bared as they narrowed more acutely than before. Her eyes filled with a black pigment as she squirmed, causing the vine along her lips to tighten.

  The siren was surely enjoying the scene. Sicarius’s eyes widened as she saw the long arrow rise into the air and sink into her flesh. The arrow easily sunk into the armor, then into the flesh, until causing the blood around her chest to bleed a silver color. The siren grinded her enemies skin, turning the arrow in a circular movement. Sicarius widened her eyes all the more, to be frozen before the laughter of the siren.

  Sicarius was dead, the siren knew it. She moved her eyes to the staring Invicta, knowing she was done with one and had another inhabitant to face. The siren knew this task would be easy since men easily yielded to her beauty. She walked around Invicta in a slow manner, tracing her long right index finger along his neck.

  “Relinquitur nunc pace We are left in peace once again,” said the siren with widened eyes. She smiled right after, hardly believing she had killed legend itself.

  Her smile became a wide gape, as she felt a throbbing pain through her chest. She breathed deeply, her eyes freezing in a deathly stare. Her lower lip quivered with immense throbbing the pain yielded. She continued staring at Invicta, having her doll-like fingers trace along her body. The fingers trembled at each touch, until finding the protruding object in the area by her heart. Her life was over at that instant, blue blood racing down her chest and along the slender vines that encircled her legs.

  "Qua…qua…quam po..po..potest ho..c es..se Ho…how..how ccc ca can this be?” coughed the siren between the slow death that succumbed her very existence.

  “Non est ridiculam, quod mortem operatur in arcanus vias? Plane aliquis obliti Lego alium page mei victorias. Ego sum iniuriam? Non cor, ferae! Vos cogitastis volui figurate? Ego sum insignitius fabula est. Legends numquam moreretur. Faciunt Is it not funny that death works in mysterious ways? Obviously someone forgot to read another page of my victories. Am I wrong? I have no heart, you beast! You thought I meant figuratively? I am a legend. Legends never die. Do they?” stated Sicarius mischievously while she encircled the crippled siren.

  “Impossibile Impossible!” screeched the beautiful figure as she found it difficult to breathe her last breaths. Sicarius rolled her eyes at such high pitched noise. The siren continued to hold her side. She lifted her hands up, the blue blood forming a coating around her soft fingers. “Venit soror, Veni Come sister, Come,” whispered the siren as her last resort of saving her life. She had no control of Invicta, his eyes clearing from a dream-like stance.

  The waters bubbled
at the surface as the siren that looked much like Sicarius leapt from the waters. She was the real Princess of the waters, one whom her father adored for her might. Her face slightly turned into her red haired figure until it disappeared to become an innocent woman—Sicarius. She lifted up one object from her right hand, as if readying herself to throw it at Sicarius. Her innocent face turned into a wicked smile, far more wicked that Sicrarius could have imagined to form. She threw the king to the shore, followed by a petrified Magni. The siren snickered, for she saw a plan form.

  “Soror, sine more. Sed videte quid facturus sim My sister, suffer no more. Only watch at what I am about to do,” stated the siren in the waters. She raised her body, having her bare feet walk upon the surface of the blue waters. Sicarius turned to her side in an attempt of threatening the killing of the siren’s sister. The injured siren was gone, unless it was the shadow she felt behind her.

  She hurriedly turned around, finally spotting the two sisters by the shore line. “Erat ego velox vobis Principem Was I too swift for you Princess?” asked the mighty siren as she defended her injured sister behind her. The twin of Sicarius held a familiar dagger, twirling it around with her pale fingers. She whispered a phrase to her sister. The blonde siren approved of the idea as she nodded her head in awe.

  The siren, whom appeared much like Sicarius, turned her back towards her enemy, unafraid that Sicarius could easily throw her one dagger at her. The siren swiftly turned around as a small zar raced towards her face. She deflected the small metal star by raising her own weapon before her face. The zar hit the blade at the tip, causing it to change direction and fall upon the silent waters. The siren no longer had a watery dress as before, her body was now covered by color, by armory, by the same clothing as Sicarius wore. If the two were side by side, it would be easy to have been confused by who was who. They walked the same, smiled the same, and behaved the same. The siren was always one step ahead, able to retain the information Sicarius stored in her mind in the past day.

  Sicarius stared at the beast, knowing already who she was. The sister that stood behind the defending siren, yelping and gasping, breathed deeper as each breath became coarser. The dagger she held into the air shined with a blue color at the handle as if it were an eye awakening—it was the twin of the dagger Sicarius held in her right hand.

  “Vultus enim hoc? Sunt nos Looking for this? Are we?” asked the blonde siren. Sicarius stared at the siren menacingly; they had taken her favorite blade, the one the Vines of Fatum bore to her.

  Invicta had failed to help Sicarius in anyway. His head pulsated and his steps became off course. The twin siren grabbed the blade in her sister’s hand and replaced it with her own double-bladed weapon. She took out a harp, as if it were in her armory the entire time and began to strum the musical instrument with the newly retrieved blade. The jewels on the handle of the blade sparked with each strum. She began to sing a tune, a melody, a song, far more enchanting than her sisters’. “Vigilaveris Wake up,” said the dominating siren. The king and Magni, soaked with the waters, began to open their eyes. They coughed at first, causing water to spring out of their very mouths. Invicta’s sleep walking became one of absolute vigilance.

  The blonde siren, the one whom Sicarius had thought to be dying, soon raised the two headed dagger, having it gently scrape the neck of her sister. “Moueri et percutiam eam Move and I will strike her!” yelled the injured siren as the blood continued to drip around her waist. She closed her eyes in utter bitterness of the pain. Sicarius’s clone hid the diamond ditcher dragger behind her back, in an attempt of making the scene seem as real as possible. The king and Invicta rose up, gathering their weapons and holding them into the air. It was clear that they were not fully aware of what was happening. They saw Sicarius a few feet away from the sirens but were unsure if she was simply a siren pretending to be their companion. “Soror, elicere ad vos credimus in facto Sicarius Sister, lure them to believe you are in fact Sicarius!” whispered the blonde siren sternly to Sicarius. She whispered in a way to seem as if it were secrecy, knowing that Invicta, Magni, and the king would be able to clearly hear her remarks.

  “Non loqui ad me! Scio me consilia mala. Cur non uti tua cithara in talibus? Vobis mendacium Do not speak to me! I know your wicked plans against me. Why not use your harp in such matters? You tell lies.”

  The blonde siren smiled. Invicta already began walking towards Sicarius with his spade in his hands. “Soror scis nimium non potest esse sine aqua circum corpora citharis? Ego tantum vites Sister, you know all too well that we cannot use harps without the water around our bodies! I have only vines,” the blonde siren stated, being a few feet away from the shore line. The droplets of water had dried.

  Sicarius leapt into the air, somersaulting backwards before standing up several feet away from Invicta who had tried to kill her. “Invicta, it isn’t what you think. Please! Trust me. I’m the real Sicarius. Look, I hold my blade to the light!” Sicarius attempted to tell Invicta while raising her blade for Invicta to observe.

  “Ut ego As do I,” stated the cloned siren. She kicked her sister at the legs, bringing her blade upwards to her own chest. The blonde siren lied on the ground with pain, the white sand beginning to form a blue puddle around her.

  Invicta looked back at Sicarius ominously. “Te fallere me, Siren profundis You deceive me, siren of the depths!” he shouted. He withdrew his weapon of destruction, causing a metallic sound rise to the surface. He raised it in front of Sicarius, preventing her from escaping his grasp.

  Sicarius leapt, using the extended sword as a step. Using her right foot, she pushed off of the sword and aimed her one dagger at her clone. Her eyes narrowed with madness. Her nose wrinkled with disgust. And her mouth gaped, exposing her sharp white canines. Sicarius stood before the siren, not wasting any time to talk to the beast. She twirled her body handling her blade with great interest. The blade raced through the air as it cut through the flesh of her clone. The siren’s armory was hardly defenseless; the blade went through the watery projection and into the thick skin of the abdominal area. Sicarius knew she needed to inject the blade into the heart of the beast but she felt a sharpness pushing threateningly against her neck, the place she was vulnerable to. With one hasty move, her head would fail to provide a legend to the land.

  “Surgere, te misellus res Rise, you pathetic thing!” shrieked the blonde siren, barely able to contain her pain. Her wound was slowly healing. The blue blood that continued to drip was most likely due to an injured heart. The heart had failed to be punctured in the middle, having only been punctured at its side.

  Sicarius rose her body up slowly and dropped her weapon onto the white ground, for the cloned siren had been one step ahead and threatened her with the similar blade. The blade seemed to have fallen rather slowly, or perhaps it was because it was precious to Sicarius. It was something that had lived with her through the blood enriched wars—it had saved her life in several occasions.

  She remembered the day she had received the blades. She had proven her worthiness in the king’s army, a king that came from an era during Fortis’s beginning time. She had battled the Nix Pardus, a giant snow leopard with menacing purple eyes and teeth made of a metal far stronger than the wood that made up each tree in the land. The coat of the beast was clear for the most part; one could scarcely see the outline. She was only 19 at the time, equipped with a long arrow and a bag in which to store food and useful supplies for the place she was to live on—Mount Periculum. This was where the beast lived, and many like it.

  The air had been chilly, and the skies shown darker than in most areas. Her skin was far paler than it normally was, being quite as white as the snow beneath her feet. She would breathe in, curling her lips, and then breathe out, having her breath shown through the coldness in her surroundings. It had been quite difficult finding the Nix Pardus, especially since all she wore was a vest made from the hide of the blue cattle. Her hair had been longer then, being braided into a coil much like a
snake’s rattle.

  Finding the beast, Sicarius had used two zars, throwing them in a swift manner to inject into the purple jewels before her. The zars had raced past her extended arms, cutting through the air itself, and yielding its way to the target. The weapons had sliced the middle of the eyes in a diagonal manner, causing the beast to let out a loud frightening cry. The jaws had extended outwards, as if grinning for the death of its enemy. But Sicarius was far more swifter than the already debauched monster before her. She had leapt into the air, using the beast’s back as a sliding board to appear on the other side. With her long arrow extended, she had thrown it fair and square to the beating blue heart of the creature, of the beast, of the monster, ending its life in a brisk moment. The task was not difficult at all to Sicarius, for she was born a warrior.

  She had returned to the king’s palace, her home in which her father awaited in the Northern part of the land. The Vines of Fatum slithered, patiently waiting for her safe return. The king of the West had offered her the chance of fulfilling her vital destiny as a tribute for her tactics.

  She had walked briskly towards the vines, dropping all her weapons onto the ground. Her paces had become faster, more deliberate, as she saw the vines appear before her. Her heart started pacing and her braided hair floated in the air as she ran towards the one’s that would provide her destiny. Carefully walking through the mystical florae that greeted her very presence, she came in front an area that was vacant of any shrubbery.

  This was the place in which she would receive her destiny, one far more powerful than the swords and rings the vines had provided in the ages. Her pale fingers had tingled as she followed the vine’s oily arms into what was inside. The vines had begun to move rather violently, as if pushing an object of some sort towards her. Like a waterfall, the vines pushed with great force, a chest, much like the one in which Fortis kept the seed that essentially contained his wife’s life.

  Sicarius remembered her expression of disappointment. The chest was far too small to contain a mighty two-handed sword. She had reached into the vines greedily, hoping to find what she had desired, a weapon of vast destruction. But the vines bore no object—the destiny had been fulfilled.

  Annoyed by even the vines, Sicarius had rolled her eyes, endeavoring to open the metallic chest. But it did not open, for a key was in need. She had searched around the enchanted garden in hopes to find a key she had foolishly missed. But there was no key, only a pink stemmed plant that rose up far taller than the other flowers around her. Light blue leaves as large as an inhabitant’s hand bordered the long extended stem that bore only one flower. It was a peculiar plant, for the flower was much different than the rest. Instead of a moist blossom, the flower that the plant bore was one made of metal. The flower in itself seemed strange, even if it were not made of the golden metal. Being flexible, the multiple strange anthers that rose from the stem entwined as a mob of curls.

  Sicarius had risen with her toes nicely extended in order to pluck the flower with a quick pinch. She foolishly smelled the flower, only having a metallic odor fill her nostrils. She walked to the small chest she had placed on a steady vibrant orange bush, noticing an odd circular engraving in the front. She had wrinkled her forehead in obvious wonder and confusion. Could it be? The flower was in fact the key. She had pushed the metallic piece of art into the odd key hole with great might. At first nothing had happened and Sicarius felt a rush of frustration upon her. She moved the metallic flower in a counterclockwise position until she heard a click and she knew the box was unlocked.

  Two curved silvery blades, ones of which were shiny and reflectant, hailed her with greatness. Around the blade were precious blue jewels that seemed to have contained a dark liquid, for it moved throughout the stone like lava. When lifting the blade upwards, the gems shined with profoundness. Only then did she know that they were far mightier than the blade she had hoped for.

  She slightly knew what the primary use of the daggers were used for. There were only two sets made in the land, both of them lost. One was composed of blue gems, as hers was, and the other was made of purple jewels in a similar manner, each containing a different power, a different use.

  In the dwellings of instruction where some students practiced magical and defensive arts, Sicarius had found herself fascinated by weaponry. She had learned about the most powerful swords, most of them which had been lost through the Great War of the land. And she had studied precisely the daggers laid in her hands—they were hers forever.

  She knew what needed to be done in order to preserve her life. She had lifted the swords into the sky, thanking the sky king for what was given to her from the heavens above. Before she had taken her life into her own hands (or blades for that matter), Sicarius had taken the small red berries of a tree, chewing on the minty yet sweet flavor until closing her eyes in bitterness. Her pain was over and she feared no suffering. She had raised the blades upwards once again until striking her chest one diagonal sliver at a time, forming an X across the place in which her heart beat. Using her bare hands, she felt her heart beat repeatedly in anticipation, something she would never feel for the rest of her life. Her instincts of the beast she once was haunted her no more.

  Sicarius’s eyes teared. If she fought back, the siren would have beheaded her with one turn of the blade. If she gave up, all that was in the land would be lost. She blinked only once to let a tear roll down her pale cheek while keeping a determined stare, resolute to not show any weakness if she had any.

  “Quis ultima Any last words?” asked the blonde siren spitefully.

  “Iustus occidere statim! Quod ludibrium saepe vitam servavit Just kill her at once! It is mockery that has saved her life in many occasions!” shrieked the cloned siren. Her face showed an eagerness to kill the inhabitant who had killed her brother.

  The blonde siren smiled, shaking her head in annoyance. Nevertheless, she raised her blade. But it was a thick dryness that had stopped her. Her face turned into the true beast she was, the heat forming wrinkles on her once beautiful skin. The coat that seemed normal around her body turned into a light blue color with small cracks beginning to form. She was drying.

  “Stulte Saliunt in aquas Esse felicem, si incolumes volumus esse You fool! Jump into the waters! We will be lucky if we are to be unharmed!” shrieked the cloned siren, her face turning into a similar appearance as her sister’s. Her teeth exposed their true sharpness as they gaped open in defeat. Her body was far too weak to attack Sicarius. She stared once at Sicarius before diving into the waters along with her sister.

  Chapter 9

  Vines of Wrath