Amara stood at the edge of a cliff, gazing down at the winding river weaving through the canyon and between towering, moss-covered cliffs. Behind her the camp fire flickered and she heard someone approach. Altan's scent filled her nostrils as his arms encircled her and his lips brushed her neck in a tender kiss.
She let out a breath. "Not now, Altan" her voice barely above a whisper.
Altan's embrace loosened slightly, his brows furrowing in concern. "Are you alright, my queen?" he asked, tone gentle and probing.
"I'm fine..." she replied, her eyes still on the calming scene below, her mind miles away, her voice detached.
Altan was confused, and annoyed but he detached his hands and moved back. The princess didn't acknowledge the movement and that seemed to annoy him more. He returned to the campfire, where their other companion sat laughing quietly.
"Don't get your shit up" he said, grating. "It has nothing to do with him"
He tossed Altan the leather flask wineskin he had been drinking from and started looking for the extra. He found it and uncorked it immediately. "Or you," he said and took a short drink. Altan just held his, uninterested. "It's all about her" he turned towards where the princess still stood. "It's always have been all about her" he added, his tone having a tinge of sad longing in it.
He turned back and gave Altan a sad short smile before taking another swig from the wineskin. Altan never liked the man but he found himself in need of someone to talk to.
"I've never seen her like that before," he finally said, looking down, dejected. "And it became worse when she received confirmation from whoever her Drakoria contact was."
"And you think the princess mourns his loss?"
"And you don't" he asked, surprised.
The older man gave a short laugh, shook his head like he couldn't believe what he just heard then took another long drag.
"She mourns HER loss," he said, a deliberate stress on the her. "The dead king offered a perfect opportunity for her to attain her life long goal, but now that is gone."
Altan just looked at the man take another drink. They never talked much but he didn't know he drank much.
"What goal?" he asked the man.
"Hmm" he shrugged, dismissive like he was glad he had something Altan doesn't.
Altan didn't force it, he thinks he doesn't care and he believed in time he will know. He knows she wants to be queen but he thinks it's bigger than that.
"I heard you are her first?" he asked after a few moments of silence when it felt they were done talking. "What happened?"
He scoffed. "What do you think?"
The wine was already getting to him, maybe that's why he looked so pathetic with that smug.
"Are you not married?" Altan asked.
"With two boys, why? Are you wondering why she keeps calling me back?"
They saw the princess approach so they went quiet.
"Have a rest," she said, "We leave for Drakoria's capital tomorrow"
Nobody said anything. The older one took a deep swig from the wineskin and Altan just watched the princess retire to their single tent. From her unspoken cues he knew they will be sleeping outside tonight.
┌─────── ♕ ───────┐
Mustapha startled awake. He didn't even know when he drifted to sleep. As he reach to stir his cooking soup the sound of grunting and unmistakable whoosh of a sword slicing through the air reached his ears. Someone was training nearby. He stood to go check. The moment he saw the figure of the person he recognized him. Barebodied as always and drenched in sweat. From this far he could make out the scars on his back and wide shoulders. For a dream, it was well detailed.
He leaned against a tree and watched for awhile. It brought back memories of when he used to sneak out to watch him train.
"You are still here" he said finally.
Old man khan swung around then stopped and turned around, his chest heaving. He looked at Mustapha like he knew he was there all along.
"If you had seen what I saw it won't come as a surprise to you" he replied.
"Hmm" was all Mustapha said.
Old man khan picked up his scabbard, sheathe the blade and began approaching.
"You, however, surprised me," he said, "traumatized by something that didn't happen."
"Drakoria owes her continued existence to the grandmage, " he defended. "Hundreds of thousands would have died"
"But they didn't"
Mustapha chuckled softly in disbelief.
"You are weak"
"Yet you want me to protect the king" Mustapha retorted
Old man khan gave a soft puff of air, almost a laugh. He stopped before Mustapha. "Make no mistake, kid" he said, "with or without you the king will survive, he is destiny's after all, but with you maybe humanity stands a chance against He that is to come. With you he is less likely to go through events that might turn him against humanity."
"And if I don't?"
Old man Khan smiled uncertainly. "Then pray you are die first, because just hundreds of thousands of innocent men and women dying would be an optimistic outcome." he said, "You may be weak but you always know to do the right thing"
Old man Khan ruffled Mustapha's hair like he always did but this time instead of raising his hand because they were of similar heights his hand went low like when Mustapha was 9, and walked past him. Mustapha turned to look at him but his eyes open to the morning sun. Someone was whistling and walking towards his direction. He turned to him and saw the Aaron kid, he was holding a rabbit with golden patches.
"Oh senior you are up" he said cheerfully. He dumped his bag to the ground "I got us sweet rabbit for breakfast"
"I thought I told you to be gone by first light?" Mustapha replied, sitting up. "Besides I don't eat that."
"I thought you would say that," Arto said going down to his bag and brought out a bigger rabbit with a smile. "so I got us a wild one too."
Mustapha gave out a sigh of resignation and watched the kid going about preparing the meat. He has bigger things on his mind. He is not ready, he can't go back just yet, but Old man khan makes it seem dire. The more he thinks about it the more he realize it's better if the king is dead.
┌─────── ♕ ───────┐
"Harder!" Rowena cried desperately even though strong hands held her throat tight. "I said harder you wandought!"
The man's powerful arms were trembling as he kept slamming in faster and harder than he had ever done before, more than enough to shatter the pelvis of a normal woman. He was drenched in sweat, he knows it's more from fear than efforts but it was no small effort. Still with all that, there was no hint of pleasure or satisfaction in her eyes, only intense rage and hatred. He knew it was a matter of seconds before he meets similar fate like the ones before him.
It was instant, and though the whole head blew off with part of the neck it was soundless. The blood splattered about, mainly on her body and face.
"Fucking shit," she swore, trying to stop the body from falling on her but didn't succeed. She rolled it away from her body, enraged.
"You fucking piece of shit! Shit!" she screamed, hitting the body over and over again. No spells, just fists and desperate cries. She kept punching and swearing, her voice rising to a loud, pained cry: "Fuuuuuuck!" Finally, she collapsed back onto her bed, sitting and breathing hard.
Her door opened.
"That's enough for today" she said, her composure returning. The door closed again. Any more of it and she might go crazy. She climbed out of her bed, admonishing herself. That was unlike her.
She collected her wine glass from her bedside table and walked to her large arched window. View of a castle against a backdrop of misty hills and a twilight sky dominated the scene but she looked past it. She took a sip of wine, feeling herself return to her new normal. It had been fine when she felt nothing, but now it's like she has a terrible itch she can't reach. And the one person that had reached it, that caused it, is dead. She had never felt so much hatred for one person before.
She took a deep breath and then another casual sip from her glass.
┌─────── ♕ ───────┐
He slammed his hands onto the table. "You sick son of a bitch!" he roared. "Why the fuck would you drag me into this?!"
The wood creaked under the pressure, his eyes bore into Erik's, the air shaking between them.
"Relax--"
"Relax?!" he thundered. "I just started a family! I welcomed my son last month and now this?! Out of nowhere?!"
"The king is dead, I don't see what your fuss is about" Erik countered. "This is for our kingdom, Matt"
Matt considered Erik for a short moment, so much rage but then he gave a soft sigh and sat back, utterly exhausted.
"Matt you know if I could do it alone I would" Erik said,
"No you wouldn't" Matt said matter-of-factly without any sign of resentment.
"No I wouldn't" Erik agreed, "but we do need your help"
"What exactly do you want from me?" Matt asked, "I've never heard of a spell like that "
"If there's anyone who would know anything gossips and underground talks amongst knights it would be you" he said, "Have you heard anything weird amongst the knights in recent weeks or month?"
"There's a lot of weird stuffs, it's the knights " Matt said. He paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "But I do recall a particular incident that might be of interest to you"
Erik's brows shot up.
"I remember that about a week or so ago," he began, "Boris was telling this silly story to the son of Barge about finding tiny blood stains inside the cuffs of his new sleeves and not remembering what happened for most of the previous day. I waved it off as been drunk but he had sworn he hadn't taken anything for days. I didn't think much of it after that day."
Erik's face was one of serious thoughts. "Do you know any one of worth who died?"
"Besides the king? None that I can think of," he said "And mind you this happened before the king was killed"
Silence followed as Erik was giving it a thought. Matt was looking at the barbarian knight sitting quietly beside Erik.
"Does she ever talk?" he asked, referring to Vojnka.
"Barely" Erik replied, still thinking.
"I didn't know you two were close, close enough for you to risk this much"
"There's no risk here," Erik answered, "Why do you think the king was so good to her and takes her along everywhere?"
"Because he wants to fuck her?" Matt replied simply.
"Oh please," Erik said then caught himself quickly and turned to Vojnka. "No offence"
Vojnka didn't react, it was like she couldn't hear them at all but she heard them well.
"He fucks his own mother and you think this is far fetched?"
Erik had more to say but he couldn't say them in front of the woman so he just gave up. "All I know is that she's special," he said, "She lasts an hour against Mustapha"
Matt burst out laughing but when he saw that Erik wasn't laughing he stopped.
"You are serious?" asked Matt, disbelief etched on his face.
Sure barbarians are stronger than humans but she chose the least level of the knight trials and all she does is sleep, eat and drink at the knights' ground, never training or sparring, and she can hold her own against the training freak captain?
"You want to bet?" Erik said with a mischievous smile on his face.
"I will take your word for it" Matt replied, not believing, but not willing to fall into an obvious trap. "So what now?"
"We will follow the only lead we have for now," he said, "then--" he got distracted by Matt's persistent scratching on his arm. "Are you going to get that treated?" he asked "You've been going at it since we came"
"It's fine," Matt answered, "It only happens once in a while"
"Well, we'll be leaving now," Erik said standing up, Vojnka too. He turned to leave then paused and turn back to Matt. "I don't have to tell you to keep this to yourself, right?"
"Oh fuck off," he said, arms crossed as he leaned back in his chair with a playful roll of his eyes.
Erik cackled and left. Vojnka turned for a last look and their eyes met. Matt did not understand the look. His arm itched again but for some reason he felt he shouldn't scratch it.
"You forgot something?" he asked.
She said nothing, just looked at him and left.
┌─────── ♕ ───────┐
The ones most affected by the King's death were his slaves. The ones in Draqia forest remained there, awaiting their fate, and the domestic ones couldn't escape because of the heavy security that came with the death of the king.
"You bitch you are responsible for this mess!" a tiger-beast girl told Nadia.
They were all inside one of their rooms, gathered around and against Nadia. Nadia sat quiet, not cowering, not confident either, just quiet.
"Watch your mouth!" Kaitlin, Nadia's sister threatened.
"Or what?!" the tiger-beast girl fired back, not backing down. "What more can you do to us that will be worse than what these low lives have in store for us?"
"I'm sure I could think of a few things" she snarled.
The tiger-beast girl considered her for a few moments then snorted. "We should never have listened to you people" she said and returned to her seat on a bed, which was crammed like the rest.
"And what would you have done?" Nadia's sister asked, "Sooner or later you would have been caught and sold"
"We would have taken our chances!" the tiger-beast fired from where she sat and others grumbled in agreement.
"Which is what you did with us," Kaitlin argued "It's not Nadia's fault that it didn't work out as she envisioned"
"Does that mean we are going to be sold?" a cow-beast girl asked shyly.
"Why?" the loner elk-woman asked, mockingly. "I thought you wanted the king dead?"
"That wasn't me!" the cow-girl cried but the elk-woman didn't care, she just looked away.
Attention left them and back to the leaders. It was a question that hung over them for days but Nadia have been avoiding them.
"I don't know," came a defeated answer from Nadia. Murmurs of frustrations and resigned sighs spread through the crowd. "The queen has ignored all my requests for an audience"
"So we do what now? Wait?" came another beast.
"What other choice is there?"
None. There will be an uprising soon. Some of these people are from noble births. They've stooped this low because of what they thought was ahead but now that is gone they will rather die than be chained. There will be lots of bloodshed and hers will be first.