by D.E.P.
The waters stayed tranquil for that moment; there were no sirens left or any to be. Sicarius smiled, she knew they would not return anytime soon. The king and the others stared at Sicarius, knowing all too well that their lives were put in great danger. “Do you fancy me, Magni?” asked Sicarius sardonically. She bit her lip at great length. As if fearing the answer she knew too well, she drew her weapon of mass destruction, having the sharp blade touch the powerful neck of her lover. “Don’t you dare love me for I have not the heart for you,” Sicarius stared at Magni, frowning in a confused manner before walking backwards. She turned towards her front, still conceiving the deep frown as she pulled back her hair to hide her confused eyes.
“Well that was that,” stated Invicta at last, breaking the haunting silence. Still, the tranquil feeling of the water’s rushing sound proceeded.
The king let out a sigh before walking towards the shore. “You are not thinking of going down there, are you?” questioned Magni while shaking his head in disapproval.
“Is there any other way?” quizzed the king, looking around his surroundings in a hopeful alertness. There was no other option. Two large boulders prevented the king and his companions from crossing the thin waterfall. It was ironic really. Fortis and his acquaintances would have to return to the place in which they had seen their death flash before their eyes. While the sirens would not prevent their crossing, the vines would drag them to their bereavement.
But before the king jumped into the waters, he made sure he had the necessary supplies he had brought. He did not want to cross the stream again for lost items. Invicta placed his armory in the necessary position, careful not to stimulate the pain on his back. Magni gathered his silver sword, causing droplets of the color to fall upon the greyish ground. He watched as each drop caused a metallic look of wonder. Sicarius examined her daggers, grateful that the deathly and eroding siren had surrendered her blades. A thin amount of blue slime covered the surface of the handle, Sicarius being in the process of wiping it along a red weed by a silvery tree trunk.
A strong splash was heard as the king stepped into the serene stream. He had taken a blue capsule, enabling him to essentially walk upon the waters. Throwing the vile into the air, the others also yielded to the blue capsules, following the king over the long stretch of water. This was the only time the king appreciated the waters despite the home of the sirens that did not live far from the surface. Their castle would primarily be underneath the white grains of sand beneath their feet.
“Quam sunt tibi pater? Senex potest esse video How are you my father? Old as can be, I can see,” snickered the woman with the bright red hair that fell across her back in deep swirls of wickedness. She walked briskly towards the king of the underwater palace. A green slightly transparent dress covered her body with the addition of small yellow jewels around the surface. She bit her lip, for she knew her father was not easy to fool even given his old age.
“Nonne ego audire aquas commoventes, supra me? An latet habitantium aquas? Opinor eos fecistis Did I not hear the waters stirring above me? Is it true that inhabitants lurk the waters? You have dealt with them I presume,” stated the king earnestly while kissing the tender hand of his eldest daughter.
“Feci mihi regem That I have done, my king,” answered the eldest siren while looking downward as to not give the impression of lying.
“Ergo QUID…DO…I…superferri aquae dolor! Parum fecisti filia Putore sentitur circa castello meo cruore fraterno NATATIO Then WHY…DO…I.…feel the waters move ABOVE!? You have done little my DAUGHTER! I feel AND smell THE BLOOD of your brother and sister FLOATING around MY CASTLE!” yelled the king with great force, changing his impression of modesty. While the king was elderly, massive muscles sculpted his body to provide the impression of strength. The king’s hair, silvery and straight, fell around the sides of his elderly head. His eyes, a deep piercing blue, contained an iris of pure white, one that was much larger than what was considered normal in the land. Small stubbles of greyness covered the man’s chin as it wrinkled with immense anger.
“Bene .…nos non habere difficultates. Ego ego ipse non potest salvare Well…we did have SOME difficulties. But I was able to save myself wasn't I?” asserted the red headed siren as she slowly moved her eyes upwards.
“Quoniam filia mea. Ubi est alia soror (That you have, my daughter. Where is your other sister)?” asked the king promptly, not showing any emotion of comfort.
The siren before the king smiled with tranquility, “In vitis pomarii At the vine orchard.”
“Admonitus sum ab universis regibus terrae praemissis abstinere. Omnes non audire. Accepto in transitu Furtim terra. Et spes est, ut parum sit, ut revertar in fortitudine magna Malum I had warned all kings of the land to stay away from my premises. All have failed to listen. Furtim is at the brink of taking over the land. There is hope, little as it may be, that Malum will return with great power,” he stated.
“Magnum est quod audio? Sed verum est rex sursum, transitu nostrum torrens fortis This is great news that I hear! But the true king is up above, crossing our mighty stream,” whispered the siren, slurring her words with such wickedness. Scared as she was of her father building anger for the loss of his son and daughter, the fiery haired siren was quite surprised when the ruler of the castle formed a malevolent grin. His eyes glowed with a steady aqua light around the bright whiteness that the iris produced. The siren changed her serious stare into an awkward smile until fully forming a grin much like her father’s.
“Quod rex satis pacifica hodie. Mihi vero maioribus pignus imperii securi velit. Suus a misericordia oportet me occidere eum That king was quite peaceful before today. His forefathers on the other hand wanted to behead me as a token of power. It's a pity I must kill him,” stated the king sadly, yet wickedly, as if Fortis would serve as a sacrifice for his forefathers’ troubles. It was clearly an act of revenge. A person of worth had to pay, and that someone was Fortis.
“Ut vis, pater As you wish, my father,” stated the siren while she sneered. She moved the palms of her hands against each other, generating heat. She anticipated striking primarily the dreadful Sicarius who had humiliated her stance in the kingdom.
“Non pudet me, pulmonalis Don't embarrass me Pulmonara,” said the king silently as her daughter walked down the steps in which the king’s chair sat upon in the open and vacant hallway. The ground of the palace was made of blue shells that were carefully gathered from the depths of the waters. The shells glowed in a metallic way, a liquid seemingly moving beneath the shell, much like the waters up above. The interior walls of the palace were much different from the ground in the way that white coral reaching high above the king’s chair entwined to produce a patterned wall. At the corners, white marble statues, predominantly the former kings, stood high and bold, each having a trident in their grasp. Their piercing deathlike eyes fixated on the onlooker. The king smiled, for he knew her daughter would do well.
Furtim walked briskly past the hall containing great red drapes that fell down like waterfalls on the white walls that made up the ample hallway. The snake, in a relaxed position, moved its body along Furtim’s neck, having the tail slowly disappear into the muscular chest that made up most of the man’s figure. With each step Furtim took, the serpent’s mouth gaped open with a sudden annoyance, exposing the sharp fangs of death.
“Oportet gradus esse latum Must your steps be so wide?” whispered Callidus, its eyes narrowing as one of the heads spoke in Futim’s left ear. It lifted up the rather long hair that bordered the ear with rapidity. The serpent’s tongue moved serenely into the man’s ear, causing him to shake his head with a shiver. Furtim now spoke in the same language as the serpent, for it was a language he was keen to speaking.
“Singulis in aurem debetis ILLABOR lingua loqueris Must you slither her tongue into my ear each time you speak?” demanded Furtim in a frustrated state.
The other head of the serpent slowly moved itself to the other ear, piercing its eyes in sudden anxiety. “Oportet
I must,” stated Callidus while the scales on its body shined with the steady light that exceled through the several holes in the palace. The black magic Furtim had produced had quickly vanished, something he was certain would happen.
Furtim opened the doorway into the room in which the twins lay asleep.
“Regina peperit geminos non nisi gravis. Sed ne occiderent eos videor. Quid est hoc Callidus The twins the queen bore are nothing but a burden to me. Yet, I feel I should not kill them?”questioned the traitor of the land in an attempt to calm the serpent from sinking her fangs into his flesh. He lifted up a red dagger before the blue-eyed twin, having the red weapon reflect off the watery surface. He laid the blade down in discomfort.
“Te sentire faciam. De gemellis iam regi prophetavit adversum regnum erit motus. Utilitatis certe erit in annis You feel as I do. One of the twins, as the king has already prophesied, will revolt against the kingdom. I am sure she will be of some use in her future years,” stated the serpent slyly.
“Quod est hoc dicere? Ipse erit in umbram mortis proles a facie eius What is this you say? An offspring of the king himself will become a deadly shadow at his presence?” asked a confused Furtim. He froze in his stance as he turned his head to face the beating eyes of the reptile.
“Quidem erit. Est eius fata, enim a lamina in eius coram erit exprobravit regni potential Indeed it shall happen. It is her destiny, for a blade placed in her presence shall defy the kingdom's power,” the serpent replied, slithering its words with such profoundness it seemed to spat fire.
“Vobis blandiri me. Illa certe habet a paucis guttis sanguinis You flatter me. She surely has a few drops of my blood.” Furtim was astonished by the snake’s remark, for he too revolted against his father and mother. He had ended their life on that noble day. He still remembered the day without anything but an imposter of a tear dripping from his left eye. He had made the days dark in the land. He had smeared golden blood onto the surface of the ground. And he had given hope for the regaining of Malum’s power.
“Mortalis de Aquas est in transitu captis rex. Fuerit reputandus potens in Malum regni. Fuerit in terra latentes in aquis. Puto etiam expertus Mortalis of Aquas is at the brink of capturing the king. He has been regarded as a powerful individual during Malum’s reign. He has been hiding in the streams of water in the land. I am sure you two have met,” stated the two headed serpent as it slithered its immense body into the small moss bed in which the purple-eyed twin lay. She quietly stared at the deathly eyes of Callidus in deep awe. The serpent raised its head, having its snout touch the small girl’s nose in a violent manner. Still the girl did not budge, for she was put in a trance, feeding off the serpent’s memories of death.
“Nonne homines mitteret luto caput? Oportet quod aqua daemonium petere Did I not send the morlutums for his head? Must that water demon claim it?” questioned Furtim in an irrational manner. His wave-designed eyebrows narrowed in dismay. He did not care for Sicarius, Invicta, or Magni. All he cared for was the king, his brother, to behead. With a twist of his wrist he opened his hands to reveal three blue feathers of metallic significance. Throwing them up into the air, the feathers swayed with the small breeze that came from the open windows. Slowly the wind caused them to form sacs of bubbles around the edges, swelling up in despair.
The feathers were no longer what seemed to be useless pieces of a chubby bird’s belly, but the bird itself. Three average sized bodies fluttered in midair, the feathers shining a profound blueness along the shimmering exterior. The grey beaks, stretched out long and thin, as if they were a horn to be played at a funeral. The wings, having the appearance of a bat’s, fluttered rather violently in midair, as if frustrated in the small room. Extending from the midsection was a long purple tail that split at the end like two daggers ready for an assassination. The bird’s eyes were the most horrifying of all as they stared at Furtim with a deep hatered; a bright red pupil with veins surrounding it awaited an order.
Not enjoying the constant noise of the wings, the serpent leapt out, sinking both fangs into the nearest bird’s flesh. One head bit at the neck while the other sunk its long daggers into the underbelly. With four holes in the bird’s body, bright blue ink did not fail to exceed the presence in the bird’s physique. It leapt out into the caves that surrounded it. The bird’s eyes widened with dismay, the red pupils darkening with every second of suffering. Within minutes the bird’s body laid limp in the serpent’s mouth, already turning into a crisp black color—death in appearance.
“Sit suus 'non comedes cunctis nostri arma Let's not eat all of our weapons,” stated Furtim in renewed dismay. Ignoring the matter for the next few minutes, Furtim motioned his hand in the air, speaking a few phrases of dark magic aloud. The room shook, the little light in the palace flickered, and Furtim smiled all the more. Within the circles his hand made, a thick and profound swirl of black smoke formed, allowing an entrance, a shortcut for that matter, into the land of Malum. Once one entered, there was no way to return.
Each step the king and his followers took was eerie despite the calm waters that fell to their left side. While the sky seamed bright through the branches of the long extended trees, a deep darkness and light fog did not fail to succumb the small peaceful dwelling. With trees extending long and tall, dark and degrading, it only seemed to overpower the tranquility the streams were destined to provide.
Still the four of them continued to the other side of the stream, seemingly more remote than they had thought. They stared at the deathly trees on the distant side. The king brought out his sword after feeling something lurk beneath his feet; he had felt a small, yet petrifying movement and did not think twice about the matter. Many a man had died for overthinking a thought. Sicarius also brought out her daggers, causing them to light up a bright blue color while expressing a pronounced electrifying sound in the process. Magni and Invicta adjusted their armory, changing them to a dark blue color in appearance that matched the suddenly darkened waters below.
“What is wrong?” asked Sicarius as she frowned. She had obviously not felt the slightest movement beneath her, not even the slightest drop of water that fell from behind her.
“Duck, you fool!” yelled the king, as he turned around with an expression of deep horror. As Sicarius swiftly bent down, a thick and slimy vine launched at her neck, missing only by inches. However, it did not fail to cause her black hair to fly up with the blow of air. She raised her daggers, spinning them through her thin pale fingers as she stared at what was beneath her. The vines were able to come out and into the waters as they pleased, but Sicarius had taken the capsule that had transformed her body to walk upon the deathly waters.
“We should get a moving!” yelled Invicta through the noisy and violent waters. The stream did not seem the least tranquil, for a deathly stir awaited them. Invicta looked around him, knowing all too well that an escape route was nearly impossible through the slimy terrain the waters had transformed to. Like a serpent’s body, the slimy green vines rose up and twisted as was permitted, enclosing the king and his warriors in a tight circle.
“The magic in the capsules will only last a few minutes! The vines cannot drag us into the waters as of now,” motioned Fortis to continue to the other side no matter how suicidal the mission should seem.
“Habemus tandem! Citharas nostras ut defecerint, sed vitibus trahm id modicum filia reginae in meam conplectere. Ego slit timidus paulo guttur in frusta in COCHLIS. Est os meum inebriat in ipso cogitari We have them at last! Our harps may have failed, but the vines will drag that little princess into my grasp. I will slit that timid little throat into pieces on a conch. My mouth is watering at the very thought,” stated the furious siren while combing her red-flamed head with her seemingly moist fingers. She blinked, exposing the gemlike eyes of wickedness as she licked her piercing lips.
She pushed her sister aside as she stood in front of a massive mirror. Thick dark vines moved clockwise around the image in the center. The siren tilted her head back, closing h
er eyes and having her red hair fall behind her as her body changed into its deathly appearance of pure evil. Opening her eyes once again, she lifted her harp to her chest, playing a violent tune by which the vines obeyed to. Seeing the horror of Sicarius in the live mirror, the siren smiled for she knew she would have the little princess at her feet in no time. If she could not kill her, she would split her body into pieces and benefit from what she consumed. Her tongue moved along the upper canines as if readying herself for an assassination—something she found splendid at the moment.
But what was this? An immense eerie noise erupted in the deep silence. Much to the sirens’ despair, they both involuntarily pushed the tender palms of their hands onto the sides of their heads. It was an attempt to prevent the high pitched sound from ever entering their ears. But the more they pressed, the more the high pitched sound seemed to be, as if forcing the blue prize to shoot out of their very ears. The small awkwardly shaped ears throbbed with the impulses the sound seemed to cause. Showing an expression of deep misery, Pulmonara closed her eyes with deep tightness, causing wrinkles to form as her eyes stretched the skin surrounding them. No longer did the deep color of the eyes show, it failed to provide a stance of divinity.
Invicta rolled towards his left side as a thick vine around a foot in diameter fell towards his muscular body. Using his golden sword, he pulled the blade towards his left side to generate enough force to puncture the vine towards his right. The fibers that made up the vine’s structure eased to submit to the golden power of the weapon, only forming thin strands of the golden metal. Invicta’s eyes closed with a deep hate as he opened them in dismay.
Sicarius stopped the spinning of her prime weapons, focusing on a vine that longed to fall into the waters. Jumping up, Sicarius positioned her arms diagonally. When the prime moment came through, she withdrew both of her hands in the designated direction, causing the rather thin vine to split in two and fall into the deep waters. Opening her mouth, she exposed the canines which many had feared before her.
The king and Magni had their own share of the action, stabbing parts of the vine as if to kill the gruesome plant. It was something nearly impossible since the vines had no heart, no soul, and nearly no life. The vines continued to stir, rising up with such force like a tentacle or a serpent’s wicked tail. Water splashed around the four, causing thick droplets of water to fall onto their faces in mockery.
But the vines no longer crashed or sprung from the refreshing waters with such violent gestures. It seemed as if the violent gestures were put in slow motion. Only small droplets sprang upwards as the smaller vines, powerless as they were, lowered beneath the now calming waves. The vine’s movement was not the only oddness in the surroundings. Two birds, as charming as they appeared from afar, came from a place unknown. From what it appeared, the surroundings seemed dark and uninhabited. However, it was quite hypocritical to think this when the king and his followers had already seen a beast too many. They knew too well they had no foretelling of what they would see next.
Still those birds left Sicarius and the others in question as a blur of metallic blue colors flooded the tight sky. As calm as the birds’ body seemed, their red eyes were the focal point of the benign figures. Both of them flew with great might in a circular motion until letting out a deep high pitched cry, a cry that would be able raise the dead from beneath the skulls on the shore. Sicarius frowned with great might, not wanting to show weakness by closing her ears. The cry echoed through the open land, the hallway of the wicked forests of Malum. Ignoring the nuisance of a noise, Sicarius rolled to her side, avoiding a thick vine that failed to withstand the penetrating sound. The water began to bubble furiously and the king knew it was their only chance for an escape.
“To the other side!” the king attempted to yell above the screeching sound.
Invicta turned towards the king, finishing the vine to his side. He ran towards the white cloak from afar, jumping over the floating vines with great distress. He knew the other two were behind him, surely evading the vine’s last attempts to drag them into the deep waters. Invicta’s face turned into one of confusion as he felt his feet seemingly lift from the ground, or rather begin to sink. He was nearing the edge of the waters where the king stood waiting for their arrival; Fortis shown like a bright star in the dark surroundings. Faster ran Invicta, gaining momentum and ultimately speed. Letting out a deep yell, Invicta dug his feet into the water, as if in an attempt to solidify the liquid. But the waters ceased to be hardened, they wished to contribute to the inhabitant’s death in some way, in some manner. Nearing the edge, Invicta finally jumped high, landing on his stomach by the king’s feet. Invicta clenched the greyish sand in great relief. But Sicarius and Magni were far from the edge, the vines slowly getting far more gruesome than before.
“Hic soror. Testis nobis in hanc desperationem. Quicumque est post hoc certe occidit ante tempus desinit Here my sister. The shells shall help us in this despair. Whoever is behind this will surely be killed before my time ends!” yelled the blonde twin, not able to bear the screech for much longer.
Pulmonara frustratingly adjusted her hair, engraving her long red fingernails into the flesh of her head. Her actions were uncontrollable with the deep throbbing of the horrid noise. Her senses were much stronger than that of the inhabitants. Forming a cup with her hand she clasped the purple cone-shaped shells into her ears, digging them as far as her skin allowed. With a great sigh, Pulmonora felt a great relief, hardly able to hear the screams of death alas. “Gratias soror. Nunc potest perficere occidere illorum. Et misellus vivit. Quid dicere Thank you sister. Now we can finish killing those creatures. And their pathetic lives. What do you say?” she asked ruthelessly. Pulmonara regained her power once again, tilting her head back to control the vines in a more violent manner. She snickered as she saw Sicarius struggling to escape the vine’s grasp.
“Ut vis As you wish,” the blonde siren stated as she slowly walked away, careful to not fall off the stone steps. She was uncertain whether her sister had meant the birds or the king and the others. She sighed with great might. Still holding onto the coned shells, she walked towards the walls, certain that the wall’s deep slime would sustain the shells in their position for the needed time. She rolled the thick liquid between her fingers before gently nestling it between the shell and the skin around her ears. She smiled bitterly at her idea, walking swiftly to a wardrobe close by. Her slender figure produced a thin shadow as she walked with dignity and might. As she opened the wardrobe, a small gust of wind sprang out, causing the sleeves of her slightly transparent dress to dance with the newly found energy.
“Hoc est faciendum This should do it!” bellowed the blonde siren despite the fact that no one was in the open hallway. Grabbing a golden object, she walked in a brisk manner towards the balcony. She loved the vines that sprung out, one of which wrapped its thin stem around her extended finger. Looking above, she saw the figures of Sicarius and Magni as they struggled to avoid the long stems of the vine. But still the vines moved uncontrollably, Pulmonara most likely not able to adjust her sense of skill. Aiming at the racing shadows above, the blonde siren shot only one arrow. Racing into the waters, not being withheld by the many bubbles forming at the tip, the arrow’s point glowed towards the prime target. The arrow thought, the arrow saw, and the arrow knew, as it swerved around a thick vine in order to avoid a collision other than the shadow lurking above.
Besieged with the mass of vines that sprang from the water, and the sinking of his feet, Magni looked up towards the sky not knowing if his string had been cut. Sicarius was already a short distance ahead of him, slender as she was. She moved between vines with ease, sliding underneath them as she could. But still the waters became more liquefied as the seconds went by. Regaining strength, Magni jumped into the air, grabbing hold of the vines as he used them to swing himself onto another.
As swift as she was, Sicarius found herself in a tight situation as a vicious and devious vine sprang from the water
and rolled itself slowly around her body. She was defenseless, her arms being mummified to her sides. “Go on Magni!” yelled Sicarius with great might and dignity, “I can save myself as I always have.” Magni stared at Sicarius as her body was lifted into the air with ease. Leaping upwards, Magni flipped into the air, lifting up his silvery sword in a steady position above his head. Magni felt the breeze against his body as his adrenaline ceased to end. With a twist of his hands, his gleaming sword slashed through the medium sized vine, splitting the stem beneath Sicarius’s floating body.
Violently, Magni spun his body around, cutting through the multitude of vines that sprang around him. Looking up, Magni saw the body of the female figure falling along with the vine tightly grasped around her body. The cut vine began slowly releasing its tender grip. Magni held his hands before him in an attempt to hold onto Sicarius’s body. But the time never came, for a sudden splash was heard besides Magni. A horrid splash, for it was a golden gleam of destruction. The arrow of wonder, of might, of power, injected itself effortlessly into the armory and inclusively the skin that had before protected him from such harm. But even his deep sense of skill and might were unable to evade the arrow’s strong blow as it went through his left shoulder.
Realizing the drastic event before it even came to be, Sicarius struggled to remove the vines around her arms, until allowing herself to cut through the infuriating stems. Slowly, her body ripped apart the smaller vines around her waist until she stood beside an injured Magni. Quickly, Sicarius dragged the body with her. With great force she lifted the slightly limp body over her shoulders, her eyes aglow.
“You have not much time!” yelled the king. As he ran a few feet from the shoreline, his feet sunk more into the waters.
“Go back my king, it is you they seek!” Sicarius struggled to speak, bearing the weight above her shoulders. Still the vines came, wiggling their callous steps over the waters. But the vines were useless, Sicarius was sinking, and the king struggled to come forth.
“Go on without me. I am fit for death itself,” stated a quiet but willing voice.
“I cannot!” screamed Sicarius over the vines that sprang in front of her. The vines inched forward, unfrightened by the beast before it. Striking Sicarius, the vine split the two apart, having Magni fall into the waters. All hope seemed lost.
Sicarius pushed her body into the air, able to land on both her feet in the shallow waters. But Magni was nowhere to be found. Her vision was suddenly rather blurry as she raced towards the figure before her, the king, until she fell onto his shoulders devastated. At the sight of her, the king did not know what to do; he stared afar into the lurking vines waiting for a miracle to unravel while he embraced his last hope.
Invicta slowly stood up, not aware of the circumstances. “What happened?” asked Invicta, his eyes questioning the horrid scene of the vines before him.
“We need to leave!” demanded the king while putting Sicarius’s arm over his shoulder.
“Where’s Magni, my King?” Invicta questioned sternly. Looking at the king’s eyes, he knew the answer he dreaded. “No! How can this be! My king, I am sure the sirens have kept him alive at least for bait!” screamed Invicta in all despair.
The king laid Sicarius underneath a small bush away from the long vines, hoping that the vines would not attack outside the waters. He ran towards the racing body before him in an attempt to grab Invicta before he fell into the habitat of the deathly ones.
“Invicta! Come forth! It is not your fault he has fallen into their hands. It is suicidal to go there in the first place!” the king attempted to talk some sense into the enraging man before him. Catching up to Invicta, the king threw himself onto the blue armory, just as Invicta put one foot into the water. The vines had already disappeared, having captured one of their enemies. But still one small vine did not fail to creep onto the shiny metallic foot. Small as it was, the vine pulled with great might. The king had already been one step ahead as he withdrew his sword, freezing the vine in its place.
“But he is of my blood…” said Invicta softly, tightening his eyes as a last resort to prevent the flow of tears from his reddened face. The ends of his eyelids became dark with a sudden expression of deep anxiety and sadness. Invicta frowned, not able to control the sadness shown upon his face.
The king felt Invicta’s deep anxiety, shaking his head in deep regret of the journey. He felt terrible for putting his companions in such a drastic situation. It was not for war, it was merely for himself. “Forgive me. I have been selfish on this journey,” stated the king after a moment’s silence.
“No, my king. It is I that am selfish,” replied Invicta rising up while pushing back the tears that smeared across the surface of his face. “And that is why I must go to save him. He’s all I have and I am willing to die at least knowing he will be alive.”
The king did not prevent him from walking towards the waters, for he knew Invicta’s life would never be the same without his brother. But still a hand grabbed onto the armory making up Invicta’s arm, forcing him to freeze in his position. The hand did not stop from squeezing, tighter and tighter, until Invicta turned around, knowing too well that it was Sicarius. “You mustn’t go. I will bring him back to you. After all, I have no heart to pierce. All is in my favor,” stated Sicarius while bringing her hand out to show the shining ring the Man of Magic had bestowed to her. Spinning her demons of mass destruction, she sliced a small wandering vine that crept to her shoulder. “If it’s a war the siren’s want, it’s a war they will surely receive!”
“Sicarius, he’s my brother. What is in it for you? He always felt a passionate lust for you,” stated Invicta silently.
Sicarius sighed, scanning the shimmering pebbles along the edges of the stream before replying, “If it weren’t for him, I would have been the prisoner of the sirens instead. He saved my life, something not too common. I am destined to save his as a tribute. As for his love, I cannot say the same. You know I have no heart, nor do I need one!” asserted Sicarius while piercing her lower lip rather brusquely.
Reaching to his side, the king brought his sword forward, laying it a few inches above the gleaming black head of Sicarius. “I wish you well on your courageous quest. Journey eastwards towards Malum’s castle. There we will reside,” he stated. The king also brought out his small velvet bag. “Take this with you,” the king suggested. He handed over a few pills, some of which would conceal her invisibility. He made certain, however, that the chest was still tightly closed.
Sicarius asserted by nodding as the king repositioned his black sword to his side, causing a small metallic sound in the quiet surroundings. “We must be quiet, I am sure the sirens can smell our presence,” stated Sicarius as she walked towards the edge of the stream. Her armory glimmered with each movement. She looked back just once, her eyes aglow, before submerging herself into the waters in which the siren’s resided.
The king and Invicta stood up, walking swiftly without word towards the forest they dreaded. As they submitted themselves into the trees, they also submitted themselves to the evil that continued to thrive within the branches, within the land, and within themselves.
Chapter 10
Befriending an Enemy
