Tag: Fantasy

The Beginning

By Sara Aziz

Shafarat Alhayaa

______________________________________________________________________

The Almuealijun- The magic-wielders who can grow plants, now usually used as royal gardeners.

The Suntshisir – The sunchasers. These magic wielders can manipulate light.

The Shadubirinjir – The shadow bringers. Can manipulate the shadows and darkness.

Rasul Alwafyat – Deaths Messenger. Only one exists every generation, as it travels in bloodlines and only one can inherit the ability. The Maksur have been trying to track the bloodline desperately, but two hundred years ago, the last female of the bloodline mysteriously vanished. No one could figure out what had become of her blood because they had already killed and hunted the Alrueb Alqirmuziu.

Almaealij – The healers, can spur your skin to heal faster and close wounds.

Mutaradat Alriyah – The wind chasers. They can manipulate the wind.

Albahithin – The time chasers. They can manipulate time. Died out three thousand years ago in the Tathir Eazim.

Almutalaeibun – Manipulators. The Illusionists. They can Change your perception of the world and can manipulate the senses into seeing what they want you to see, and feeling what they want you to feel. Were hunted down in the Tathir Eazim three thousand years ago.

Alrueb Alqirmuziu – Scarlet terrors. They are blood manipulators and can tell you who sired you, and what magic runs in your veins, by your blood. Most unnatural type of magic, they were the first to be hunted in the Tathir Eazim.

Lahab – Flame manipulators. They can summon and control fire.

Raqisi Almiah – Water dancers. They can control all water, including the water in the air we breathe. They can draw out all the water from the air we breathe and can suffocate you while they breathe comfortably and watch you die. Most modern Raqisi Almiah are assassins.

Alnufus – The soul seekers. They can see how rotten or pure your soul is. Most were used as slaves for royalty and aristocrats who wanted a pretty party trick.

Kritari – the messengers. They can send anything, anywhere, to any corner of the planet. 

Aleanasir – The name that refers to all elemental magic. [Elementals]

Magical Hierarchies [Pre-Tathir Eazim] –

Common-

  • Aleanasir
  • Almuealijun

Respected –

  • Alrueb Alqirmuziu
  • Almaealij
  • Suntshisir

Coveted–

  • Rasul Alwafyat
  • Shadubirinjir
  • Albahithin
  • Almutalaeibun
  • Alnufus

Magical Hierarchies [Post-Tathir Eazim] –

Common-

  • Aleanasir
  • Almuealijun

Respected –

  • Alrueb Alqirmuziu
  • Almaealij
  • Suntshisir

Coveted–

  • Rasul Alwafyat
  • Shadubirinjir
  • Albahithin
  • Almutalaeibun
  • Alnufus

Names– Most magic-wielders are called Sahira [Female] or Aljinu [male] meaning witch or jinn.

Change- Change is what all magic-wielders abilities are referred to as in broader terms, what they can do. They can Change the natural order.

Slavery- most magic-wielders became slaves after the Tathir Eazim, the ones who did manage to escape such a fate either became merchants in the Midnight Bazaar or joined the Devil’s Own.

Tathir Eazim – The Great Purging. Three thousand years ago, the Maksur [The Broken] rose up against the Shafarat Alhayaa [Lifes Blades/Magic Wielders] and hunted down the most “unnatural” of them. The Albahithin, the Almutalaeibun, and the Alrueb alqirmuziu all “died out.” There are theories that some still survive, but no one knows for sure.

Maksur – The Broken. The Maksur are the normal ones, the people with no real powers. Ordinary humans.

_________________________________

The most famous Shafarat Alhayaa in the world as of today [the fourteenth day of the twenty-first month, 1860] goes by the name of Ironheart. True name?

Unknown.

A Song of Crows

One for sorrow,

Two for mirth;

Three for a wedding,

Four for birth;

Five for silver,

Six for gold;

Seven for a secret,

Not to be told;

Eight for a wish,

Nine for a kiss,

Ten a surprise not to miss,

Eleven for health,

Twelve for wealth,

Thirteen beware it’s the devil himself.

Prologue

Sticks and stones won’t break my bones, but metal destroys us all…

I blinked as I slowly regained consciousness, the throbbing pain behind my eyes only intensifying as a strange light shone down upon me.

“Subject Four is now awake,” a brisk voice said from behind me.

Subject Four?

I started to sit up, but a foreign pressure on my chest stopped me. Looking down, I saw silver bands twining around me like ivy, pinning me to a strange metal surface.

“Who are you?” I croaked, my voice hoarse from disuse.

“Subject Four is now capable of speech,” The same voice said.

“Who are you?” I demanded, my voice getting stronger.

My eyes darted around the room before locking on a tall man standing in the shadows. His dark eyes arrested mine, cold and inscrutable. His black hair was streaked with silver, born from the moon and darkness. His face was made of sharp angles and hard lines as he watched me, a single eyebrow raised in question. He was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Hello, khione,” he murmured, the warmth in his eyes belying the emptiness of his voice. My eyes stayed on him, my lips trembling. My beloved. He’d called me his beloved. What was going on? Panic was starting to set in, and my breaths shortened.

“Why am I here?”

“Subject Four-”

“Will you shut the hell up with your Subject Four?” I shrieked, thrashing against the silver, feeling it bend and begin to break along with my skin. Feeling my bones begin to strain and bow as strong hands began grabbing me, trying to shove me down. My skin was tearing, blood staining the silver crimson when I felt something stab against my neck. Pure pain erupted, and I screamed as my whole body went numb and still. My breathing slowed, and then it was as though I was hovering above my body, staring down at the quiet, empty form. My throat couldn’t seem to swallow, and living became a difficulty.

“Six liters of pure iron,” the voice said. “A deterrent against your kind.”

His voice wasn’t malicious or cruel. Simply cold and practical, a doctor with a patient or a scientist with an experiment.

“Don’t worry, Subject Four. This will only hurt a bit.”

I looked up with blurry eyes towards a mask being pulled down towards my face. When it connected, it was fire against my skin. Everything erupted as the skin of my face tore and strained towards this foul creation from hell.

I screamed as the iron of the mask began breaking off, burrowing into my skin, sealing itself to my face. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think, it was just agony.

“Help me,” I begged the man in the corner as the iron began burrowing into my lips. “HELP ME!”

But he just stood and stared as the iron dug in again and again and again.

When they pulled the mask away, I gasped a single cool breath of air as tears ran down my face, mixing with the copper of blood. My back bowed off the metal, straining towards a reprieve that did not exist.

“Subject Four has survived part one,” the voice noted.

Survived.

Then a second mask was pulled towards my face, and I thrashed, turning my face away, doing anything to stop the oncoming torture. But nothing helped, and no one heard or cared as I screamed

and screamed

and screamed.

Part One

Scene Two

The Laws of the Hypocrites

Never keep a promise

Trust is something best played your way

Win at all costs.

Chapter One- The Stars Do Not Forget

A glint of iron was the only light that shone in the darkness as night descended, creeping upon its visitors with the cruelty and grace of a queen. I blew out a slow breath as a woman began to step out of the Aracne Tavern. Lady Starkov, his lover. Her steps were hurried, furtive. All could see the guilt hanging upon her frame, the way her shoulders curved, eyes down-turned. I was silent as I drew up from my crouch upon the roof of the opposite building, stretching the tightness of my muscles as I pressed a hand against my twin knives in support. 

Eris and Bacchus protect me, I thought, before running down the curved side and leaping to the opposite building. My steps were light, always balancing my weight once my steps had firmed. My hair- loose- fell about my face. I should have done it up in a braid or bun of some sort, but it was the holy night. Even assassins prayed to something, be it greed or guilt or gods. Still, it was a damned annoyance nonetheless. I swallowed as I leaped to the next building, Lady Starkov clear within the crowds, her black cloak clean where others were stained with age and filth. A lady playing amongst thugs and thieves. She stopped near a corner, an unmarked carriage waiting. While it said nothing of her house, the subtle lavishness spoke for itself. It was a wonder she’d survived her week of slumming it with her protector. Once she’s climbed in, I slid down from the roofs, the footman-turned driver climbing down to close the door, turning a mere moment after I slipped in. Starkov was staring out the window, unaware of her passenger as the footman closed the door, then spurring the horses to a start. 

“We need to talk,” I said quietly. Jolting, Starkov swung her head to me, but I already held my dagger, Bacchus, to her throat. “Try to scream, you lose your value. Lose your value, and I slit this pretty throat.”

Her eyes were wide, the light blue igniting a strange revulsion in me at the fear. Hypocrite. “I’d like you to take a guess at what I might be talking about, Yelena.” Yelena Starkov, third, spoilt daughter to a lord, borne and raised to think she was invincible. Married to a rich, yet aging merchant at the age of eighteen, she’d decided she still had years before she was truly required to become a mother. That was not the problem. The king had little concern for infidelity. What they cared for was who she chose. A foreign lord with dying pockets and excessive patriotism. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she whispered, vapid eyes blinking rapidly, straining to find a way out of this situation. I’d left her none. I slid Bacchus along her throat, reveling in the quick intake of breath at the thin slice it left, a deep red line that branched out in trails of blood. 

“Your husband is a rich man, Yelena, dear. A man with secrets he’s often foolish enough to speak of in front of his shallow, pretty little wife. Secrets you seem happy to whisper when only the bedsheets and your lover are privy.” She swallowed and Ieaned back. “His name’s Henrik Byrod. I have two of my Serpents tailing him as we speak. He’ll be dead by the end of this night-” I stopped at her small cry, before continuing as though I’d heard nothing. “Yet since I’m feeling merciful, I’ll give you a choice. Come with me to your trial, and you will have a chance of escaping if Daddy comes to your rescue, as I doubt your husband will care after the details are told. However, if you refuse, I’d be glad to slit your throat as we speak.”

Her eyes darted to Bacchus again, and I almost didn’t see it coming- the quick lunge for Eris. Grabbing her hand, I twisted, claiming a gloved hand over her scream. I always wore gloves, to hide the shade that made my skin so much different. Ironheart here was a legend, a woman borne of the mists and ghosts hue. Her skin was not the color of burnt caramel in sunlight, coffee in the moon’s glare. Yanking down her arm, I kicked into her stomach, slamming her against the wall. The loud thump echoed through the carriage, and the driver yelled for the horses to stop as we slowed. 

“Fine,” I growled, flipping Bacchus to aim at her throat as she cried, “Wait, please! I’ll do the trial!”

I almost felt pity. “No one threatens Ironheart, Yelena Starkov, and makes it out alive. Be sure to ask around in hell.” 

By the time the footman opened the door, I was gone, and all he saw was the slumped-over figure of Lady Starkov, her throat slit in a painless death.

Another kill for Ironheart. 

Ironheart

My new book!

Hey readers! Wow, it’s been a while since I posted anything- but I hope this is worth your while! I’ve been working on a new novel I hope to publish, Ironheart, from my series, These Deadly Games.

I’m going to be posting the first few chapters on my blog to see how readers react to my writing, and if I should go back to the drawing board with this idea. I would appreciate any comments. Thank you for reading my work!

Fourth Wing

Book Review/Rant

This had to be one of my favorite books of 2023-2024! With drama, humor, incredible world-building, and friendships you just can’t stop thinking about, the book snared me from start to finish.

Characters

  • Violet Sorrengail- Violet was the main protagonist who narrated the book, and was the most savage, fun character! Violet is the youngest daughter of the famed Lilith Sorrengail, but her father was a scribe (not so esteemed). She had two older siblings, but Brennan [Her brother] died. (DRAMATIC GASP) All she has left is Mira, her older sister who is just like her mother. Throughout the book, Violet really grows from a fragile, naive girl to a warrior.
  • Ridoc-
    Ridoc was one of my favorite characters in the whole book, and I cannot tell you how happy I was when he survived the whole book. He was the comedic timing this book sorely needed, and made me laugh, even after scenes that made me ugly cry. He was sweet, funny, cute, funny, handsome, funny, (I think you get the picture.) If it wasn’t for Xaden, Ridoc would be my favorite character! But, Xaden exists, so sorry Ridoc! If it had been any other book, you would have been WAY more appreciated!
  • Rhiannon Matthias- BESTIE #1!! From offering to kill and bury Xaden if he hurt Violet (‘Cause, you know, he kind of hates Violet’s mom), to standing by her even when she was breaking the rules, Rhiannon never wavered by Violet’s side since the beginning of the book and is now my favorite book bestie.
  • XADEN RIORSON- I JUST- WORDS- FAIL ME-
  • Liam Mairi- REBECCA YARROS, HOW DARE YOU?!?!?! WHAT GAVE YOU THE RIGHT???

Fluff
☁☁☁☁☁/5

This book killed me, and I would recommend it to anyone looking for a book that will tear their souls from their body (If they still have one… I mean your soul, not a body. If you don’t have a body, you’re not human…AI’s reading this, I swear, I’m not insane)

Have a good weekend everyone!

Chapter VIII- Yin & Yang

Featured

___________________________________

Bang.

Crunch.

Slam.

The sounds filling the air were both reassuring and terrible.

Crash.

Boom.

Crack. 

I panted as he lunged again, people cheering around us, jeering, calling, laughing. Disgust flit through me as I turned a sneer towards the crowd.

What am I doing here?

I have no idea.

Repressing a sigh, I looked at the crowd, and a thread of hatred ran through me. As I turned to leave-

“Where do you think you’re goin’ pretty boy?” The fat man in the brawl pit sneered at me, his overdone red face gruesome, as though he had been at the losing end of one too many fights.

“I’d tell you,” I said, a small part of me loathing my words, words made to pick a fight, “Yet I find that you require a certain amount of intelligence to understand that I, unfortunately, believe you lack.”

He glared at me, the look in his eyes a mixture of hatred and the idiocy of a man too stupid to understand the insult, but just bright enough to realize it is one. Tilting back his head, he spat at me and the glob of spit landed on my boots. I blinked, disgust almost overriding my senses. Did he, a common pit fighter, just spit on my shoes? I’ve killed men for less. 

And I’m not about to end that wonderful tradition now.

Lunging with sudden brutality, I landed a blow on his jaw, a crack resounding. A low kick to the knee, as I pinned his arms, broke the point, and I grinned at the howl of pain he released.

“You-“

“Ah, ah, ah, mind your language! There are ladies here!” It was a feral sort of joy that encompassed me now, the thrill of the hunt.

He snarled and a wild smile filled my face.

Bucking back up, he thrashed on the ground like an animal, blood, and saliva mixing on the ground before him. A sudden yank on the pinned arms dislocated them with a satisfying pop. Driving my knee down to his spine, I pulled back his broken arms, and he screamed.

Tears soaked the ground before him and I rose, aiming a harsh kick to his head that made a satisfying crack.

He didn’t move again.

There was silence before the noise became a roar as men called in bets and money changed hands. Walking over to the bar, I took an iced water and drank, eager to cool down.

“So, this is what you do.” the cold, judgmental voice behind me said. I didn’t bother to turn around. I already knew who it was.

“Weren’t you here to look for someone?”

“We’ll look in the morning,” I said, my voice rough. I felt someone grab my chair and whirl it around, and I was face to face with the disgusted Ishaan Kaur.

My fists clenched as he kept watching me and judging me. I will help them look in the morning. I’m not lying.

“Are you drunk?”

“It’s water.”

“At least that’s something.”

I scowled.

“What do you want?”

“Why are you here?”

“Cooling off steam.”

There was a glint of humor in his eyes as he surveyed the place and turned back to me before his eyes snapped to the person behind me and they turned cold.

“You scum!”

I didn’t turn, but my hands tightened on the glass and my back stiffened. A hand gripped my shoulder and whirled my stool around again to get me face-to-face with the spitting image of the man in the pit. His small, piggy eyes were spitting venom in their rage, his pink face bulging.

“You know, you all have to stop commandeering my chair, it can get quite tiring-“

“That was my brother! You killed him!”

“Really? Had no idea. Should have bought him a drink first.” I leaned back into the bar as I watched the swirling ice in the drink with a faintly amused expression.

“Sarcasm. Isn’t. helping.” Ishaan hissed. 

“Why? Brings the fun into life.”

He poked a fleshy finger into my face and shoved it between my eyes.

“I can make your life a hell if I want to, and I definitely do.” A ring on his finger glinted with the design of a wolf. It was the emblem of all Enamani fighters.

I stiffened further as Ishaan sucked in a breath. What’s an Enamani boxer doing in Hirhol?

“Now gentleman, there’s really no need-” Ishaan began before the red-faced foreigner cut him off.

“I know about her too. And you’re gonna regret this. I know what a tendre pretty boy has for her-”

I cut him off with a fist to the mouth. Blood spurted out, and he screamed as he pressed his palms against his lips. Grabbing his neck and yanking him closer, I snarled in his ear,

“You will never tell anyone about her.”

He made a gurgling sound, his eyes widening and bulging with fear.

I tightened my grip into a choke. No one can know about her. She needs to be safe.

I blinked. No, I need to keep my brother safe. Get your priorities straight, Gray.

There’s no such thing as a victory without a sacrifice. His face turned blue and his hands, clawing at my arms, became weak. A foam dribbled from his lips as he whispered.

“I’m…not the only one….who knows.”

And then his pulse died. Dropping him, I turned to the men slowly approaching me, murder in their eyes. 

“Sorry to ruin your fun, girls. How’s a drink sound-”

With a high kick, one of the men closest to me attacked, his eyes practically red with rage. A bar stool went flying towards me, and as the first man tried to fight my front, two more men attacked my back. I laughed, exhilaration replacing the emptiness of a few moments before. I paid for that distraction. A punch to the cheek had me seeing stars, and a fist to the spine almost broke it. Drawing in a shallow breath, I readied my fists as I lunged weakly at the golden-haired man in front of me when a snap at the back of my head had me falling. Sprawled on the ground, I looked up with blurry eyes to see a knife flying past me into the heart of the man in front of me. His eyes widened as he looked down slowly at the knife before swaying. I watched as he crumpled to the ground, and blinked the grit from my eyes.

What the hell?

But the world was starting to fade.

“Let’s get you out of here,” A quiet voice said as they hooked their arms and carried me away as the world went black.

____________________

“What?”

“Where’s Damien?” Mikhail repeated, this time with more force. I blinked as I looked around blankly. 

Where was he?

“See Aleksandr? This is what happens when we split up!” Alyona’s sharp voice was shrill enough to give me a headache as I turned to glare at her. 

“None of you saw him leave? Not even you, Levka?” 

As Levka shifted uncomfortably, Alyona snorted and turned. 

“You know what? I’m gonna book a room at that inn, then I’m going to have dinner and find Maria.”

“I’m with Alyona,” Levka said, aiming a smile at her she deliberately ignored.

I winced as I ran a hand down my face. Why were women so ridiculously emotional? 

‘Promise me.’ Her voice still echoes in my head. 

‘Promise me.’ 

“Fine. The inn was that way.” Pointing west, I closed my eyes again as I clenched my teeth in frustration. 

As Alyona turned west and began to walk, I took a deep breath and then followed. I scanned the people scurrying past, their furtiveness feeling…wrong. All at once, for no reason, my mind flashed back to the compound, and…her.

“We-we haven’t been properly introduced, right? I’m Annamaria, but everyone calls me Maria, and wow, this room is pretty bright, isn’t it?” Her voice filled the silent room, her light seeming to be almost palpable. 

‘She did this. She ruined everything.’ I forced myself to remember, forced myself to focus. But that felt wrong. Despising her felt wrong.

“What are you doing-”

“Shut UP!” I roared, my outburst desperate and pleading, and because I was a fool, I turned to look at her. And it was like a bullet. Her black hair and red eyes were just like Gabriela’s. 

I couldn’t stand it. 

“Must you speak to fill every silence? Silence is not the enemy, and you are no more than a murderer. I only do this as I was ordered to.” I turned away, a burn flowing into my veins, filling my blood with fire.

I knew she thought I was talking of that useless enforcer.

She was wrong. But she wouldn’t know who I was talking about. I doubted Gabriela kept track of every life she ruined anyway.

“Turn on your stomach.”

‘You’ll regret this.’ A voice whispered.

‘No, I won’t.‘

I looked at her back and froze. 

It was covered in a thousand scars, each one deeper than the other. And worse than all, were the bright red scars of Gregori’s punishment.

‘You’ve already gone this far. You can’t back out now.’

Then, she insulted me, her voice vitriol and arsenic.

Her cold, Enamani accent was the same as her mother’s.

She truly is her mother’s daughter.

Enamani dogs.

My hands seemed to act of their own accord as I picked back up the needle and smiled internally.

As I turned to look at my sketch, I placed the needle to her back and pressed to begin. I would normally have given her a pain reducer or talked her through the pain. For her, for the name she carried with pride, I did neither.

Even as I felt her tremble beneath the needle, shuddering to hold back the cries of pain and tang of blood.

As I turned away to bandage it, I saw her turn to see it in the mirror and freeze. Her eyes widened, then closed. When they reopened, they were full of unshed tears. They hit me like a blow to the chest.

She turned to look at me, her eyes full of sorrow far beyond her years. Like I was just one more person who had disappointed her, and she was too far gone to even care. With her soft hair falling into her eyes, and her lips trembling, she was beautiful. And I could have painted a thousand portraits of the pain in her eyes that somehow did not seem to even recognize the pain of the tattoo.

Only what they meant.

My breathing was ragged as I helped her bandage her back. I tried to hide it, tried to make my hands as quick as possible. But something about her felt different. The light that had seemed to be almost sun bright was now that of a candle.

Glowing, but flickering.

About to go out.

My hands lingered on her back as she rose and slipped back into her dress. She glided towards the doorway. She hesitated and turned back to me, and I prayed she did not see the tightness in my chest or the flickers in my eyes. She opened her lips as though to say something, an emptiness simmering in her eyes as though she was about to let the words tumble out before she closed them and shook her head, turning away again as she seemed to float out of the room, leaving me behind her, the shattered mess I’ve been since her death. The beast of the story.

The monster.

Like I always would be.

And I turned away as I picked up my sketchbook, collapsed back onto my chair, and began to draw.

“Here!” Alyona announced proudly, jolting me from my thoughts. Her eyes shone and her smile was triumphant.

‘Promise me.’

Levka and Mikhail looked at each other again, and they burst out laughing as though this was a grand joke. I pushed past them in disgust as I entered the small inn, their laughter conspicuous, drawing attention. A woman was sitting behind her desk, writing something down in what looked like a ledger. Her hair was tied back, and she looked middle-aged, her eyes a tired green. As she looked up, she smiled and waved us over.

“Good evening, travelers! How may I help you?” 

“We need a few rooms,” Alyona said, her whole manner different. Her eyes were wide and honest, her smile looked bright and genuine.

“Of course! How many?” She turned back to us, her eyes questioning as she traveled over the bags and dirty clothes. 

“Only three,” I grumbled. We should be finding clues about the prince’s whereabouts, not sleeping. 

“Wonderful! Now, what type of room-” As she continued with Alyona, I wandered over to the small bookshelf near the door. A section was labeled ledgers, and bored, I pulled it from the shelf. My eyes widened as at a date,

The Eighteenth of the Third Month.

1; Guest pays in gold jewelry.

A ring lay in the middle, a thin gold one easily lost in the thick volume. But these engravings were only used in one family, only allowed to be used by one family.

The prince had been here.

But why?

Slipping the book into my jacket pocket, I walked back over to the counter as Alyona turned, three keys in her hands.

“Breakfast is at ten in the morning, and room service is on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays!” The woman said cheerfully, before turning back to her ledger and her smile faded.

“What did you find?” Levka murmured as we reached the stairs.

“I’ll tell you later,” I whispered back. 

If I was right, we were one step closer to finding the prince.

But if this is a decoy or a trap, then we’ll never find him.

_____________________

As I closed Little Women, a smile still lingered on my face. I love happy endings. I rose from the rickety little chair and slid the book back in place as I sighed.  Turning towards the exit, I saw another man standing near the shelves on the opposite side of the room, his hands sliding over the spines as though still deciding. His clothes were nothing short of aristocratic, and his way of standing obviously was that of someone who was used to having his orders followed and now came to expect it always. Those types weren’t the ones usually in a library.

Wary, I slid behind the shelves as I silently crossed to stand behind him.

“You know I can feel you standing there,” His voice was amused, and his shoulders shook as though repressing a laugh. I straightened, my pride stung, and as he turned, I grabbed his arms and shoved him into the bookshelf. 

“How strange. I’ve actually been compared to a ghost on numerous occasions. The only reason you would know I was here was if you were looking for me. So what do you want?”

“I could explain if you released me,” He said, his voice now a bit strained. I looked down and realized my silver bracelet was digging into his spine that was jutting out in the position I held him. Releasing him, I grasped his shoulders and spun him around to see the most handsome man I had ever seen.

Hazel eyes along with high cheekbones, an aquiline nose, and a strong jaw came together to make a face that was beautiful alone, but his black hair falling into his eyes combined with a happy-go-lucky smile he was now aiming at me made his face boyishly charming, yet stunning. 

“Pleased to make your acquaintance at last Ms. Lopez.” 

“How do you know my name?” A feeling of dread crawled up my throat as a chill ran down my spine.

“It would be the fool who did not know who you are, Maria,” He laughed, a deep sensuous sound. “After all, I’ve been looking for you for a long time.”

“You know my name, not who I am.”

“Darimati,” He said, his eyes serious. “An Enamani magic-wielder. You know, your home country would pay quite a lot for a wielder of your…caliber.” His eyes ran over me in a way that was cold and downright clinical. I blinked and opened my mouth before closing it again.

“Don’t look so shocked, it took me years to find you. Your mother was quite the skilled hider.”

The world around me was shaking.

“You can’t tell anyone,” I said, desperate and numb at the same time, pleading with him, begging him. 

He regarded me as though I was a curiosity, his face expressionless.

“I don’t need to. The King is who ordered me to find you, and he already swore me to secrecy. I’m not some mercenary.”

My knees almost collapsed in relief as I slid back onto the comforting wood of the shelf. I took a deep breath as I remembered what Mother had said. 

Wrap them tight. Hide them. Never let anyone see. 

My terror had invoked it, that inner darkness that yearned for death. The monster inside me, the monster that I have spent my whole life controlling. I bound it tight again, knowing that I could never set it free. I opened my eyes to focus on him.

“What do you want with me, and how did you find me?” My voice was rough, and he smiled again, pleased for some reason.

“The King? He merely wants you to do him a small favor. And as for finding you, now that, that was the hard part. It was only after your mother died – my condolences, by the way- that I was able to pick up the trail again and find you.”

“What favor?”

His eyes were unusually bright.

“I am not the king’s confidant, Ms. Lopez. My job was to find you.”

“No.”

“No?” He raised his eyebrow, and his face was almost disappointed.

“Ms. Lopez, I thought you were smarter than this. I don’t want to hurt you, but I do need to bring you back.”

“I’m no one’s pet, and I know just enough to say that if I go with you, I’ll never get out. ” I turned and ran for the doorway, but paused to look back at him. He watched me leave with a sad look, shaking his head in dismay.

“Really Ms. Lopez? I hate to sound cliche, but you can run but you cannot hide.” 

I raced out the door and was on the street, but his words still found me and haunted me.

“I will always find you.”

I ran through the streets until I couldn’t anymore, my eyes burning. How had this day gone so very, very wrong? As I stopped to breathe, I put my hands to my knees and gasped until I caught my breath.

“Now what woul’ a chit li’ you be doin’ here, sunshine?” A man said behind me. I whirled around, on my guard. I hadn’t looked where I was going. I was in an alley, dark and dank smelling. The man who’d spoken was old and tired-looking, but his eyes a twinkling sharp blue.

“Raphael!” I gasped, never happier to see my old boss and the man who’d gotten me into this whole mess.

“I couldn’t let you do this alone, now could I?” He said, a smile on his face as I rushed over, throwing my arms around him for a hug. 

“Listen, I don’t have much time here,” He whispered, his voice serious, and I leaned back to stare at him. His eyes were furtive, his expression urgent. He wrapped his hand around mine, and I felt the soft sharpness of the paper. 

“He isn’t who he says he is.” He whispered it quickly, his grip suddenly strong.

“Who?” 

“I can’t tell you. I wish I could. Just promise me, you will always have your guard. Promise me.” His desperation leaked into his voice like a vile poison, the poison he consumed for me. As I wrapped my arms around him once more, I whispered,

“I promise.”

”Then all will be well.” He said, his muscles relaxing. I stepped back as he rose.

“Come with me.” Turning, he hunched over and looked around as though to see if anyone was watching him, and he gave me a fleeting smile.

As he walked through the alleys and backstreets, people watched and stared. Even in the dregs of the city, the people watched and listened and spied. 

“Do not fault them,” Raphael said, his voice stern as he faced me. I blinked, and he nudged his head towards them.

“They watch to be paid, they listen to survive.” 

“I know.”

His eyes turned questioning, but I didn’t say anything else. I couldn’t afford to be distracted here. And all memories are useless distractions. I blinked again, then rushed after Rapheal, my mind still whirling. As he stopped in an empty alley, he knelt next to the wall and murmured something I couldn’t hear. He looked at me.

“Don’t watch.”

I closed my eyes, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. 

“Open your eyes.” As they reopened, I saw him standing in front of me with a book. 

“You were always a clever girl. Now use it. “

“But-”

“You’ll find your friends at the Queen’s Inn.”

The Queen’s Inn.

I fled. I fled like the coward I am. I ran, ran through the streets, just like before. I didn’t want to hear his lies. He didn’t know my mother. He’s wrong.

I am a monster.

I am a monster.

I am a monster.

And I can never forget it. 

As I collapsed next to a building, I looked at the book he had given me. It was a diary.

I opened it and began to read the first page.

Dear Diary,

Yesterday, I gave birth to the daughter I have been waiting for for so long! I will name her Annamaria. Things are finally looking up. Marcus cannot wait until she’s older, and he’s already set about spoiling her!

With excitement and hope,

Gabriella Triona Lopez

Dear Diary,

My worst nightmares come true. Today, Marcus’s cat got too close to Maria and scratched her. She screamed, and the cat brushed its tail against her in annoyance. It died.

With fear,

Gabriela Triona Lopez

Mother.

A tear slipped down my cheek. It felt like she was here again, her voice soothing as she stroked my hair and told me to be better. To work harder.

I know I’ll find something in here, something important. Otherwise, Raphael never would have given it to me.

But for now, I just want to sit and remember.

Just sit and remember people how they used to be.

_____________________

I sat in the lounge of the inn, my lips pressed together in disgust as I pretended to read a book on… what was it again? I glanced down.

Oh, right. Geological formations.

“Now what are you doing down here alone?” The woman who had been behind the counter came to sit across from me.

“Reading,” I answered. She snorted.

“If I were you, I’d be anywhere but here. What are you doing with those handsome men? They seem to know you, but it seems like a business partnership, not one of choice.” I stiffened, and she laughed.

“Dear, I’m 46 years old. I’ve seen enough rebels, liars, and honest people to tell the difference and know when someone is more than one. So what are you?”

“That depends on who you are.”

“My name’s Irene Grilqua. Who are you?”

“Alyona Morozov, from Jeterna.”

“I’ve never met a Jeternian in Hirhol.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not by choice.”

She chuckled as she reached past my shoulder. 

“I think the radio would be better entertainment than Jilfins Account of the Rocks and Formations of the New World, don’t you?”

“My friend would find this fascinating, actually,” I said with a grin. 

“Would he? I-”

The front door opened and a beautiful dark-haired woman stepped in. Her eyes were sad, and she had a tremble in her lips, playing on her pale face.

“Meet my friend-”

Irene interrupted me, staring at her as if seeing a ghost.

“Gabriela?”

Maria turned to look at her, the corners of her lips curving down at the corners.

“No. That’s my mother.”

Irene recovered quickly and laughed it off. 

“Of course! How silly of me, you’re far too young to be your mother. I’ll leave you girls to your business.” Rising quickly, Irene walked into the back room and closed the door.

Maria sat in front of me and wordlessly pulled out a book. 

“What is it?”

“My mother’s old diary. Raphael met me in an alley today, and he showed it to me. He said it would help us.”

I looked back to the cover and closed my eyes. 

She was hiding something. 

I opened my eyes. So was I. 

Gabriela.

My fault.

I opened the diary and began to examine it. 

The first thing I noticed was the first letters of the later entries. There were three main calligraphies in Enami at the time, and Gabriela used two of them. Except for the first letters at the beginning of each entry, each one written in Hansit, large and overdone. I would barely have noticed….except she only did it for a single year.

“Look.” 

“What?”

“What happened to your mother in the year 1825?”

“She got a new job.”

“Well, something about that job made your mother cautious.”

Her eyes sharpened as she re-examined the entries, and I pointed at the Hansit. Her eyes widened.

“She’s writing a passage!”

I lurched up.

I ripped out a blank page from the back, grabbing a quill from the stand next to us. 

“THE KING IS LYING. HIS SON IS NOT WHO HE SAYS HE I. HE WANT BRING HER BACK. SHE IS DEAD. HE CAN STOP KING. FIND THE SWORD ENAMI. FIND THE PORTRAIT IN RTERNA. PROVE HE ISNT WHO HE SAYS HE IS.”

We sat back as I set down my quill, my hands now ink-splattered from the pace at which I had written as she had recited the letters.

“Your mother had terrible grammar,” I finally said, and Maria’s head snapped.

“Shut up.” I blinked. It was the sharpest Maria had ever sounded as she stared at my messy scrawl. “We have to find the sword.”

I hesitated. “Maria…your mother was famous for her love of games. What if this is just another one?”

As our eyes met, there was nothing of the kind young woman in them I’d come to know.

“Then we play.”

We only have 5 days left.

It’s time to use them.

“We need Damien,” She said, standing up abruptly and turning to walk to the stairs. 

“But we don’t know where he is!” I called after her.

She stilled before whirling to face me.

“What happened to him?”

“We don’t know. He was here, but then, he vanished.”

She closed her eyes, inhaling sharply.

“Nothing is going right.”

Suddenly, the clock began to peal loudly, chiming in midnight.

Midnight.

A new day has begun.

“We need to find Damien.” She said hoarsely, opening her eyes slowly.

“I know. But how?” I said softly.

“I can help if you’re looking for someone,” Irene called from behind the counter, where she had resumed her perch.

Maria turned to look at Irene, an empty smile playing on her lips.

“ And who are you?”

“Irene Grilqua”

“Well then, Irene, where would you find a teenage boy with good fighting skills around here?” 

She was quiet for a moment. Then she furtively glanced around and bent over to whisper, 

“Virmirs Alley. It’s an underground fight club. But the only people who go there either have nothing to lose, or everything to gain. Be careful. But don’t tell anyone I told you.”

Maria gave her a wan smile.

“Thank you.”

“Glad I could help. It breaks my heart to see these good young men throw their lives away like this.”

Maria smiled again, this time sharp and jagged.

“I feel the same way.”

Picking up the diary and the paper, she stuffed it into the book and hurried out.

I turned to look at Irene.

“Can I ask for directions?”

She laughed before saying,

“Go right down till you see a bakery that says “Closed,” then, turn left, right, straight. They’ll want a password if you’re not a fighter. Tell them, ‘Everything is made to be broken.’‘“ 

“Thank you,” I said.

“Glad I could help.”

I turned to run out the door, to follow Maria. Irene stood still before returning to her chair, then her backroom. I watched her from the outside door.

She wasn’t alone. 

I ran to catch Maria.

__________________

“Who is ‘e anyway?”

“No one.”

I groaned and tried to open my eyes, but my eyes felt like wet sand, and opening my eyes seemed a monumental effort for such a small thing.

“I think he’s waking up.”

“Put ‘im under, then!”

I felt something sharp slide into my arm. My eyes snapped open. 

The horror on one of the men’s faces was enough to spring me from my bed, a drunken-sounding snarl erupting from my ravaged throat as the world became blurry. 

“Who are you?”

“The only people keeping you alive right now.” The sharp voice was so familiar. “Sit down before you hurt yourself.” The world came into focus, and standing next to me was Ishaan Kaur. His eyes were cold.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Damien.” A man was leaning against a wall, his eyes sparkling with humor, his smile so casual, it was as though he were ordering ice at the park instead of standing in front of a drugged and dazed prisoner. There was something boyish about him like he’d either never had to grow up, or he’d been forced to too soon.

“Do you recognize this, Damien?” Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a paper and threw it at me, as though I was a dog rather than a human. ‘The amount of disrespect I was receiving within this week alone is more than I’ve received in a whole year,’ I thought dryly. My good humor vanished the moment I began to read. 

“I saw him, you know.” His voice was casual, his smile still light. Monster. One who hid rage behind soft laughs and hate in warm looks. We both knew who he was talking about.

“Mateo looks a lot like you, but very different personality, I must say. “ Charm like the devil and looks like an angel,” the guards say. Wonder how much longer that will last.”

“Don’t you dare touch him!” I roared, lunging at him as the other men melted from the shadows to hold me back.

“Come now, Damien, let’s not get too emotional. I’m here to offer you a deal is all. I happen to have an old score to settle with the husband of your landlady, and he happens to care fondly for her. Get rid of her, and your brother will receive a raise from his present….accommodations.”

Ishaan’s eyes widened, and I remembered that he had called her a friend just yesterday. 

“There is no need to bring her into this, Charun.”

“I think there is.” His tone was final.

He glanced at the shadow passing over Ishaan’s features and laughed.

“Come now, don’t tell me you have feelings for the old bird?”

“I owe her a favor and call her a friend.”

Charun’s smile faded.

“You once called me a brother.”

“Not anymore.”

The tension within the room was thick as the fog that covered Hells Alley, Charun’s face as inscrutable as Ishaan’s. Finally, he turned back to me.

“Bring Death’s Messenger to the king,”

“What if I can’t?” My question was ragged. I wasn’t sure if I could betray her. Hurt her. Take her to someone who will so willingly break her. The corners of his lips tilted. 

“I’m sure you can.”

“Ishaan will watch you. If you tell anyone anything..” 

The threat was a poison lacing his words. The goon beside me brayed a thick laugh like that of a donkey.

The world slowed as rage began to seep in through the cracks in my mind, turning everything a thousand shades of red. Lunging to the side suddenly, I drove my fist into his jaw with all the strength of a drained man. He doubled over, and I grabbed him into a headlock. I panted, the steps I knew better than my own hand becoming harder and harder.

Kicking out the backs of his knees, he fell to the ground. Flipping him over to face me, I pressed a knee to his chest and clutched his windpipe. His eyes widened as he mouthed words he couldn’t say. Suddenly, I felt a crushing pressure from behind me, and I gave a groan of pain. Feeling myself being hauled off by my shirt, I gave a weak twist. 

He laughed.

“Behave, Damien,” His chiding voice murmured above me.

Patronizing pig.

His long fingers grasped my neck lightly, his skin rough with hidden calluses and scars. He suddenly snapped it to the side, and before I could make a sound, he slid a syringe into my neck and I froze, almost wincing at the sudden pain, the alarms in my head slowing to mere beeps.

“This syringe is now in your carotid artery, Damien. One movement, just one, and I inject it.”

“What’s in it?”

Ishaan’s voice was warning.

“Air.”

I would have laughed. He saw the amusement on my face, and something flickered in his eyes.

“Don’t think so highly of yourself, Sariati. The oxygen will invade your veins and travel to your heart, clogging the necessary valves around the heart, and it will mimic a heart attack. A fatal one.” All amusement died on my tongue.

“Now listen to me. You will bring her. You will kill the rest. And you will not tell anyone about Ishaan.”

Slowly, he drew out the syringe. 

“Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

__________________

I blew out a breath as I looked around Aleksandr’s room. He had a smile on his face that would be faintly frightening if he were actually aiming it at someone. Instead, it was a triumphant smile. 

“What in Jarni’s name is that?” I finally groaned, bored and annoyed with his self-righteousness and secretiveness. 

“An old ledger.”

“A ledger?” I flopped over onto the bed again, annoyance bubbling to the surface. “Good gods, I’m already bored.”

“I’m still trying to figure out how you passed primary school,” Mikhail groaned from the couch.

“It’s not my fault,” I muttered, “that the instructor let me pass on looks alone. This beauty can be a curse.”

Aleksandr gave me a look that said yeah right, before turning back to face Mikhail, still slumped sideways on the couch.

“A ledger that includes notes,” he said triumphantly. I stared at him, five seconds from lunging over the table and throttling him. He rolled his eyes when I growled in anger, his sigh of frustration suddenly seeming incredibly condensing. “When a ledger includes notes about the guests, it usually includes where they were, where they’re going after this, how long they’ve stayed, how much money they paid, and the currency they used.”

“So?”

“So, that means that we know the prince obviously didn’t come here with his real name, so we need to find a guest that would match what we believe he would have. And he paid using his own ring. On that day, only three men checked into this inn.”

“And how exactly would we know where they were going?” I scoffed, almost laughing at the comical flash of anger on his face.

“They’re all heading to the same place. It’s a very good thing the innkeeper is nosy. She asked them where they were heading, and they all said the same thing.”

His face was grim. I was confused for a moment before realization dawned.

“No. Nope, not doing it, you can’t-”

“We’re going to Enami.”

“Dammit, you said it.” 

“What’s so bad about Enami?” Mikhail asked tentatively. Aleksandr snorted.

“It’s where his sister and her family live.”

“Why is that so bad?”

“Did I mention she put a price on his head?”

Mikhail gaped. 

“Why?”

“Because she’s still the same petty little girl she was when we were five,” I grumbled.

“They had a falling-out.”

“Falling out,” I repeated as I remembered the furious look on her face when I showed her the reality of her friend, the shock the next day knowing my own blood had made me little more than a criminal. And since there was nothing for me in Enami, I found somewhere else that could take the work of a newly minted fiend.

“Really?”

Aleksandr started laughing.

“Her friend, Lady Dowager Arashita Von Mokari, turned out to be a famous thief wanted in two kingdoms and one empire for treason, grand theft, and bigamy.  She stole almost half of his sister’s wealth, then ran off to find some other kingdom to torture with her presence.”

“How the hell do you know so much about my family?”

With a smirk, he picked up a newspaper left on the table and snapped it out in front of his face. 

“Research.”

Mikhail was still gaping at me, his eyes wide.

“But why do you have a bounty on your head, then?”

“Because going after an old friend she loved parading about would have been humiliating, especially since countless others were doing the same. Better to make it all my fault.” My voice was throw-away, even as the familiar betrayal flashed across my eyes again.

“Wow.” He blinked again, the book in his lap clearly forgotten as a slow smile spread across his face. 

“Does Maria know you’re wanted in her home country?” His voice was teasing as his eyes laughed.

“No.”

“Are you gonna tell her?”

“No.”

“You’re so grumpy,” he grumbled.

“Bit late for that,” Aleksandr snickered as he returned to the paper.

“How can you read that?” Mikhail asked. Aleksandr raised his eyebrows as he slowly lowered the paper.

“Because I can read.”

Mikhail flushed as he hurried to say, 

“Yes, but it’s not in Jeternian”

Aleksandr shrugged.

“I’m not a barbarian.”

Mikhail watched him in amazement.

“Back to the original point, Aleks, do you have a plan?”

“Don’t call me Aleks.”

“Do you have a plan?” My voice was forceful, but his silence spoke for itself.

“I swear, I don’t care if you’re lying. Just tell me you did not just drag us to a hellhole without a plan.”

“We’ll figure something out.”

“We better.”

“Yeah, we better. Or we won’t live through next week.”

_________________

I blinked at the alley the woman had directed us to. It was dark and dank and disgusting, but completely empty. 

“Where-”

“There.” Alyona nudged her head towards a homeless-looking man sitting with a coin box next to him. Her white streak shone bright in the chocolate of her hair and with the moon glowing, her chocolate looked black. 

Black and White.

Yin and Yang.

“Then let’s go ask.”

Chapter One

Featured

By Sara Aziz

______________________________________

I stared silently out the window, ignoring the hissed conversations of my captors.

Dead. She was dead. I wonder if that meant anything to anyone besides me. Lorkai didn’t care, if he’d approved her death, approved my capture by any means.

“Shut up, Achar,” the hunter growled, and my pointed ears flicked in his direction. “The king will not be pleased.”

Lorkai was no king, but I supposed in his mind, by the people he ruled and the land he controlled, he was. What power flickered in the hunter’s eyes?

“Who are you.” Not a question, but a command I was surprised they allowed me to make.

“Aiden,” the hunter said. No family name, nor title. Did he not know his? Was he illegitimate? His face tightened as he seemed to read the thoughts in my eyes. “It’s not your place yet to know who I am beyond that.”

I bristled, and Achar huffed a growly laugh. As I turned back to the window, face flaming, I cursed myself for allowing him to hurt me. Why was I insulted by this callous killer? I felt someone slide beside me as we went over a particularly bumpy part of the path.

“What’s your name?” I stiffened as the questioner breathed against my neck, hot and far too close. Achar.

“Nothing I wish to tell you.”

“So I will call you Fawn,” he murmured, and my hatred flared in a blinding heat as I stilled. His harsh, cold fingers ran down my throat, tracing my collarbone, trailing lower, lower, and I screwed my eyes shut to avoid the inevitable touch, till they suddenly stopped. Opening my eyes, I dared to glance over at the reason behind this lack of movement and saw Aiden gripping Achar’s hand in a death hold as they engaged in a silent staring contest.

“Don’t touch her,” he ordered, and I blinked. “The king will be…displeased if we return his daughter as the damaged goods you no doubt intended.”

My lips quirked in a smile that lacked humor, and it caught Aiden’s eye as I winked. He scowled, and I wrinkled my nose in distaste. Aiden may want me safe if only for my father, but it was safe nonetheless. I would need to keep him near once we arrived at Lorkai’s castle -or fortress?- and hope his fear for my father kept me alive. Mother would have said to ‘watch, wonder, listen.‘ Keep my mouth shut and my ears open. My lips twitched as Aiden moved to the seat across from me and leaned in, expression conspiratorial. Which was pure bull.

But for Achar, for stopping that touch, I would allow it.

“What is your name, Fawn?”

I considered him, considered the merits of telling my name, and tilted my head in faux acquisition. I never agreed to anything I didn’t want to.

“Gianna.” My voice was deliberately soft, my eyes wide and sad, and his own softened. By the gods, the man was a fool. “My mother calls me Gia, though.” She didn’t. But the false moniker lured a smile onto his hard lips, and he leaned back, satisfied with his findings. He’d already forgotten the wink after Achar’s touch, the spit that had spilled from my lips as I vomited when they forced me into the carriage. I buried the flicker of disappointment beside the endless pit of rage deep inside me. The rage they’d incited with the thoughtless murder, the planned execution.

“I believe I will still call you Fawn.” Aiden’s eyes once again traced my grass-stained clothes, and I shivered when they heated. What was wrong with me? I stuffed that strange feeling right into a box labeled, Things I Will Deal With When Drunk. Achar snorted, and my gaze cut to him.

“Why do you laugh?” I blinked innocently after the question, but there was something in his eyes I couldn’t decipher, an understanding of sorts.

“The strange thing about fawns,” he said, falling deeper into his seat with his eyes closed, “is when a hunter’s around, they always get shot.”

No one spoke for the rest of the ride.

___________________

I sucked in a breath as the seemingly endless array of pines and elderwoods thinned as we entered the center of the Korinaj. Lorkai’s home…I gazed out the window in wonder as a building reminiscent of the castle of the skies came into view. Cold and imposing, it was grand in a way that was both terrifying and awe-inspiring. Mother would have despised it. I jolted as I realized she had despised it. And Mother would have had no problem voicing it. Luna always had been brave.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Aiden’s voice was amused, and I felt a burning humiliation flash through me. He thought it was funny, the wild girl of the woods just encountering civilization. Keeping my face smooth, I cast him a saccharine half-smile.

“It’s rather ugly, isn’t it?” I relished the way his smile dropped and the way the confusion in his eyes conflicted with a dormant resentment. “The stone is so cold and dramatic against the woods. It’s almost an eyesore.” I affected a shiver after that, keeping my voice open as he nodded, swallowing every word.

“It’s meant to be that way, and even so, it grows on you.” He smiled, and I feigned struggle before letting a small one flash. Mother would be so proud of me.

“It’s incredible regardless.” Achar’s sharp voice cut through, and I unintentionally stiffened. Achar was…unnerving. He was suspicious, watchful, distrustful. Him, I would need to avoid. For my sanity, and my life.

“Don’t mind him,” Aiden chuckled, and I twisted my hands in a show – a rather impressive one- of being torn. “His mother was the architect.” At that, my head whipped towards Achar, who was staring out the window. His mother? Lorkai allowed a female to design his home? Achar’s jaw was clenched, and for the first time, I truly looked at him. His lupine features had vanished -called forth at will, I’d learned when he’d relaxed and his face gained features I would have said were Fae- and without them, his face was harsh. Carved of ice, born of snow. His hair was white, silver-colored eyes constantly flashing with streaks of gold in rage, along with an aquiline nose combined to create a visage I supposed some could call handsome. Achar caught my eye, raising an eyebrow, and I blushed. Sharias’s name, was I admiring him? After what he’d done?

No, I was merely examining him. Examining my prey. That had to be it. I swallowed, hard, as I looked back out the window. The accompanying guards had ridden outside with the coachman, and I pinched my lips as they opened the door now. The cold winds whipped my face, snow finding it’s way into my hair and onto my thin clothes.

“Will you go down yourself,” Aiden said, his eyes cold in the face of outsiders. “Or do I need to drag you before your father myself?”

I shook my head slowly, taking the humiliation he’d incited in those words and pushing it deep, within the same pit Achar had opened inside me. “I won’t fight.”

I heard Achar snort, but I ignored him, instead stepping out onto the cobble, ignoring the lingering stares of the guards. I will find them all later. Mother always said I had Sharias, the goddess of attraction and loves gifts. Guards always knew something from watching and protecting every day from their places. And very few were unsusceptible to a lovely woman’s invitation. I flashed a pretty smile at the tallest male guard and he flashed his white teeth in a wolfish grin that lasted for less than a second. I continued walking, ignoring Aiden coming in beside me, Achar following like the dog he was. I shivered as my slippers stepped into a particularly large pile of snow, pain shooting up my foot, and I let my eyes flicker over my shoulders for a moment to see Achar’s features had turned lupine again. I narrowed my eyes before looking ahead again, only hesitating for a second as I stepped into the castle. Entered my new prison. Achar grabbed my arm, his grip rough and biting as he dragged me down the halls. Stumbling, I desperately tried to stretch my legs to keep up with him, but Achar had to be at least six and a half feet. Looking up, I flushed when I saw he was already staring down at me, silver eyes almost completely gold. His lips curved, and I jerked my gaze forward, swallowing the rage he ignited. Looking around the halls, I bit my lip as I noted the expensive paintings and gold lining the walls. The lush carpets beneath my thin slippered feet. I reached up a hand to brush some of the snow out of my hair, and Achar locked on the movement for a moment, his eyes flashing pure gold before looking ahead again. Did I make him that furious just by messing with my hair? With a secret smile playing on the corners of my lips, I pulled my arm from Achar’s grip and began braiding my hair gently, slowly, choosing the most intricate design I knew. As I braided, I started actually looking at what was around us in the hall. My feet delicately stepped on the deep red carpets that had to have been custom-made, the cold gray stone of the walls emanating a foreign thing that wasn’t of this world. We were near Lorkai. We were near my father. I sucked in a breath as the guards near the door gave me an almost pitying look when Aiden stepped forward to open the door with ease. His face was cold as Achar grabbed me again and pulled me through the doors, the guards filing in behind us. I blinked at the dramatic change from the plush, luxurious halls to this almost dungeon-like room. It was bleak, dark and shadowy, the floor smooth cobble, the walls painted black and leaking cold. There was only one window, and my eyes darted to it and were arrested by it. The view was nothing short of incredible. The snow covered the grass in a bright, sparkling layer that reflected the sun in each falling snowflake. The sky was cloudless, and I was breathless as my body turned towards the window almost against my will.

“Your mother loved that window too,” a soft voice cut through the silence, and my head darted toward the deepest shadows nearest to the center of the wall. A tall man rose from a throne of pure white that reminded me of bones. A chill ran down my spine as my mouth dried. “Of course, now I realize it was because she wanted to run away through it.”

The man stepped out of the shadows, and I lifted a hand to my face as I finally saw the visage of Lorkai, Lord of the Night. I’d thought he would be ugly, old, burly. My father was none of those things, at least, not the last one. The first one, perhaps only on the inside. His face was sharp, crow-black black hair falling into dark, almost playful eyes. High cheekbones led to a full mouth, his black suit perfectly tailored to a lean body you could still see was lined with muscle. No wrinkle marred his skin, but a scar slashed across his eyebrow. Rather than taking away his looks, instead, it only gave him an air of mystery I could see how my mother had fallen for. Lorkai was the most handsome man I’d ever seen. Now, I understood the love that had always laced my mother’s voice.

“What is your name, little one?” His voice was still soft, a velvet covering for a knife’s edge. He called for her death. He allowed her to die. I felt the howling pit of rage climb up my throat, begging for me to scream and fight and break his ridiculously perfect face. My father’s face was mirthful like he knew every thought going through my head, every instinct telling me to hurt, to kill. To enjoy the screams that reigned.

“What is your name?” He repeated, and I let a smile ghost my lips.

“Gianna.”

“Gianna,” he said, almost as though he was tasting the name, and I stiffened against Achar who was still holding me. “A beautiful name. But I think I will call you something else Gianna. Perhaps, my little fawn.”

His eyes cut to Aiden, laughter dancing in their depths. He knew.

He was toying with us. Using every bit of my restraint, I kept my fists from curling, held myself back from any hint of emotion at all.

“You may call me whatever you wish, my lord.” I put a considerable amount of disdain in my voice, a gamble I hoped would pay off. Achar sucked in a breath behind me, clutching me tighter as he stiffened. My father’s eyes turned icy.

“You may leave now, Achar.” A command. Now I saw the Lord of Night in him, the tight fury bleeding into his voice, the dead eyes. The expression lacked any sympathy, any pity, at all. Achar released my arm, and I almost stumbled at the sudden loss of pressure. The dead eyes now had a fire in them that looked to almost explode at my quick loss of balance. Achar hurried out, a dog scurrying away with his tail between his legs. A quick jerk of his head had the guards leave quickly before sliding the door shut with a terrifyingly final click.

My father turned back to me, and his eyes were now cheerful and warm again. The sudden change would be frightening for anyone scared by quick shifts of emotion. My mother was one of those people.

Was.

“Is their contempt in your face, fawn?” There was a quiet note to his voice that caused me to meet his eyes with a courage I hoped he would see and appreciate. Remember.

“My mother is dead, my lord. And I was told it was because of you. May I feel a bit of contempt for the man who took away the woman who raised me?”

He shook his head, and one of his fists curled. For the first time, I felt I may have overstepped. Went too far. I stepped slightly towards Aiden, my utterly useless safety net. Yet instead, there was regret in his eyes.

“I never wished for her death, and you can be certain, my little fawn, the male who did it will be punished.” From the cold rage that flashed in his eyes, I knew he spoke the truth. And as the taste of blood filled my mouth with a phantom of the past, I wished I could be the one to let Achar feel the pain he’d let me feel, the pain he’d caused. Let the chaos control him as it did me. “But, my little fawn, we have important things to discuss, no?”

Blinking up at him, he walked towards me in a few long strides, grasping my hand as he pulled me with him, out of the throne room to a smaller, adjourning room which was as leisurely extravagant as the halls, leaving Aiden staring after us as the door swung shut. In the center of the room was a long table, covered with food.

“Who-who else will be eating with us?” I asked, turning towards my- no, Lorkai. He didn’t deserve to be called my father, not even in my mind. Not yet.

He gave me an affectionate look as you might an adorable dog than a sixteen-year-old woman asking a question. “No one, my little fawn. Just us.”

Leading me to the table, he pulled out a chair next to the head to which he then sat in himself. Taking my plate, he began filling it with rich foods, and the scents of exotic spices began to float in the air. My stomach growled quietly, and I was reminded of how little I’d had to eat today, how my meal had been interrupted. Mother would have made sure I’d eaten. Mother always made sure I was well. I swallowed the lump in my throat as I accepted the plate from Lorkai. I glanced towards the closed door and remembered Aiden standing on the other side. Was he laughing at me, at the “naive” wild girl he’d encountered in the forest? He must be, considering the luxury for which he lived.

“I am glad I finally get to meet you, my little fawn,” my father said, leaning his elbows onto the table as he met my eyes. “I just wish I could have been there for longer.”

I give him a small nod, and he sighs.

“My court is a deadly place, my little fawn, and they will not care if you’re my daughter or not.” His eyes were penetrating, and I swallowed the question rising in my throat. Did they care who mother was either? Did you care? ” I have no intention of losing you as well, my little fawn, so I’ve arranged the perfect opportunity for you to become one of my court and be accepted.”

A shiver ran up my spine and the fork I’d been fiddling with now felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

I set it down.

“What?” In my head, my voice seemed to come through an ocean, roaring and sloshing as high tide rose.

“A marriage, my little fawn. To the son of my most trusted advisor.”

“Wh-who?” I stuttered, my voice a little too high-pitched, and he laid his palm above my hand with a comforting expression.

“You’ve already met him. Aiden Evergreen, my little fawn.”

Aiden. I would have to marry Aiden? I felt suddenly nauseous, and I drew back my hand as I pulled my legs under me and curled up in the chair. I’d never wanted to get married. And now, I had to merely to get my revenge? My father rose with a sigh.

“I will give you a moment to understand your new situation. I wish things could have been different.” His eyes shone with regret I refused to acknowledge. “If only your mother had thought things through…”

With that, he turned on his heel and strode to the door, every movement assured, as though he knew he would get what he wanted.

Not this time.

Pulling out the button from my sleeve I’d stolen from my father’s suit when he laid his hand on mine, I fiddled with it as I began to scheme.

I would marry Aiden Evergreen over my dead body. Because the only way they were getting me to the altar was in a casket with lilies in my hair. I would sooner greet hell than marry Aiden. Now, all I had to do was convince him of that too.

Prologue

Featured

By Sara Aziz

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The sun rarely shines in the North. Instead, it flees among the clouds to spur the moon’s rise so it may dance with the stars. That’s what Mother says, her pale, silvery eyes gazing at the sky with both hate and love.

A burning hatred and a fiery love. For my mother, murder, and fear had been her companionable sins for too long. It was he who had created these new hells in her.

“Never fear the darkness, my love. The world was birthed in darkness, and that is where it shall return.”

The oddest thing was that I had never feared the darkness, regardless of what she said. Terror of the dark was for those who never knew what they could find in it. But Fae never feared the unknown. Fear was a death sentence.

And I had no intention of dying today.

The wood was quiet in the silence of the night, and I hummed quietly to a tune mother used to sing when I was a child, golden hair swaying with her. The Korinaj forest was almost my home, where I knew I could feel him.

Lorkai, Lord of Night.

My father. His power stretched across the land, but the cursed woods were his domain especially. I’d once asked Mother how they were cursed, but she’d told me to not ask again and to never summon in the woods. She said Father had, and that was why he was the way he was. I still wished sometimes that I could even just see my father, even if he didn’t know I existed. The snow was falling softly, hitting the grounds like the chimes of the school’s bells. I ran a hand down the trunk of a proud tree, relishing the rough feel of the bark beneath my hands. I sighed with pleasure as I raised my face towards the moon, the cool rays a temptation against my bronzed skin. I heard the crunch of footsteps on the snow and froze. Mother tread so lightly, to hear her was to hear the gentle breeze and the water ripple. This was someone else, their steps loud and fumbling. I felt my lips quirk unexpectedly at the strangely endearing way this person bumbled through the forest. Creeping towards the source of the sound, I threw myself behind a tree when I heard a foul curse. The voice was deep, a baritone that did something to my head and made me wish for things I couldn’t describe or voice.

A man.

Peeking around the fauna, my eyes widened at the sight of a tall, lean-figured male with a bow strapped to his back. The hunter turned in my direction, and I hid deeper in the darkness, even though I knew he wouldn’t be able to see me unless I wanted him to. His dark eyes flashed across the trees, silvery black hair ruffling in the wind. The sharp angles of his face spoke of a life similar to my own. He wasn’t traditionally handsome- no, his features were too harsh for that, but it was the round tips of his ears that made me stumble back. He was not only a human man, he was a human man who intrigued me. Who made me want. By the gods themselves, Mother was going to kill me. The stumble made me clumsy, and I stifled a gasp as I stepped on a twig and it snapped. The sound echoed through the trees, and his head darted to the tree I’d been hiding behind. I stilled, suddenly very aware I was wearing nothing but some simple black trousers that were a size too small and a tunic my mother had bemoaned its use of any longer. I narrowed my gaze when he pulled free his bow and loaded it. Stepping out of the shadows, I slowly approached him so he could see me in the moonlight. I thanked Diana it was so bright tonight, and I gently lifted my hands in a silent plea for understanding. He swallowed when he spotted my pointed ears. Or perhaps he was just looking at the ridiculously low neckline of my tunic. Mother had told me to throw it away.

“The Fawn of the East,” he breathed, and I nodded slowly at the moniker the villagers had made for the daughter of the beautiful wild woman. The girl who drifted through the shadows without leaving a trace, who knew the woods as her home above the company of others. “I thought you were just a rumor.” Was that a hint of sadness in his voice?

“No more than you,” I whispered, and he stumbled at the higher note of my voice only Fae could achieve. Perhaps he hadn’t been looking at my ears after all. “What are you doing in these woods? There is no wildlife left in its winters.”

He blinked, glancing down at his bow as though just realizing what he was holding. “I’m not looking for animals.”

I felt a chill skitter down my spine. “You mean, you’re not looking for prey.”

He met my eyes unflinchingly, a smile playing at the edges of his hard lips. It lacked humor, and I swallowed at the violent edge in his eyes. “No. I didn’t.”

Backing away, deeper into the woods, for each step I took he followed. It felt like a cat toying with the mouse as he played with me, allowing me the illusion of escape. The gentle breeze lifted, twirling about us in a dance I knew better than to join.

“Whatever you’re looking for, I hope you find it,” I called to the winds before turning on my heel and darting away, allowing only the silence as companion. But still, I couldn’t outrace his quiet words.

“You shouldn’t.”

I sat on the wolf’s fur carpet before the fire, warming my cold hands when the door slammed open and Mother appeared. I jumped to my feet, hurrying over to clean up her spot on our small oak table, biting my lip as she sat with a panicked expression. That couldn’t have been panic.

Mother was never frightened.

“Gianna, did you meet someone in the woods?” She turned, meeting my eyes, and I found I couldn’t lie when she looked at me like that.

Like one wrong word would break her heart.

I tilted my head before nodding. My odd tick I could never get rid of. Her face turned white, and I swallowed at the shame climbing my throat. What had I to be ashamed of? It was he who’d encountered me, spoken with me, then followed me.

“I’m not looking for animals.”

“You shouldn’t.”

The sadness in his eyes as he murmured my moniker.

He wasn’t just looking for prey.

He’d been looking for…me.

“Mother…?” The words climbed my throat, demanding answer, reason, any way to make sense of the nonsensical.

“Gianna, we have to go. Now.” Jumping from her seat, she hurried to the bedrooms, and I paled. Following her, I found her throwing clothes in a bag, messy and uncoordinated. What had happened in town? Why had the huntsman been searching for me?

What did she know?

“Mother-“

My question was interrupted by the bang on the door as a growly voice called, “Open the door now, Luna, or we break it.” I flinched at the harsh words, and Mother placed a comforting hand on my cheek before grabbing my arm, dragging me to the window.

“Run, my darling. You have to run now,” she whispered in a hushed tone, “you have to go before they get you too.” There was a panic in her features as she unlocked and opened the window, flinching at the sudden onslaught of cold.

“Who?”

“Him.”

There was only one person who could inspire that sort of love and hatred in my mother’s voice.

It seemed the Lord of Night had found us at last. I bit my lip as I tilted my head, a confusing mixture of fear, excitement, and rage pulsing through me. Fear for the day I would meet the man known as the bane of the kingdom, excitement for the thought of finally meeting him, and rage for what he’d done to my mother.

Running towards the window, I leaped out the glass, toppling into the snow. Mother would be fine.

Mother could survive anything and anyone. She’d survived the Lord of Night once, she could do it again. She had to.

Jumping to my feet, I whirled and ran face-first into a stone-hard chest. Looking up, I saw the cold face of the hunter from the forest. There was a regret in his eyes as he gripped my arms.

“You shouldn’t have run.”

I tilted my head, and he gasped as a shadow stabbed into his leg, another forming a dagger at his throat.

“And you shouldn’t have come, human.” He stared cross-eyed at the knife, and I bared my teeth, fire swirling through my veins. “It won’t kill you, sweetheart. Just mimics the pain enough so that you’ll wish it did.”

Drawing the knife away, he stared down at me with an appreciative glint in his eyes.

“Let. Go,” I said through clenched teeth, and he shook his head as he dragged me to the front of the cottage.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he said, emphasizing the last word, and I flushed. “I can’t do that.”

I swallowed a scream at the scene that encountered us. My mother was on her knees as a wolflike man towered over her, sword poised above her throat.

This wasn’t a summoning.

This was an execution.

“Your mother was supposed to live,” the wolfish man growled. “But it was you the Lord truly wanted. And it seems you need to be taught the consequences of trying to disobey the Lord. By trying to escape, you signed her death sentence.”

Lunging for my mother, the hunter yanked me back into his chest, lashing his arms around me. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, and I spat at his shoes in response.

The man raised the sword, and I wished I could close my eyes, but I wouldn’t steal that honor from my mother. The honor of a daughter witnessing her death.

And the sword fell. I tried to ignore the nauseating clunk of her head hitting the ground and the way the pure snow around her slowly turned red with blood. The empty gaze of her pale eyes.

The world was drowned out as a roaring in my head deafened me. One of the hunter’s arms around me lifted to press a hand to my mouth, encasing the screams that begged to be released.

The executioner met my eyes, a slow smile spreading across his lupine features. “I’ve never killed a Fae before. You lot were supposed to be immortal, weren’t you?” He looked back down at the still corpse. “But you’re as weak as a human.”

“Enough, Achar.” The hunter’s voice was harsh above me, but I barely recognized them over the blood rushing in my ears.

I’ll kill him.

I will kill him.

The shadows began frothing around his feet as I clenched my teeth, a howl building in my throat. But I tamped it down, letting the shadows disperse.

Mother wouldn’t just want me to end them. She would want me to tear them apart till they were begging for mercy.

Weak as a human. Achar would regret that. His death, I will enjoy the most. But first, I would start with the man who’d sent them, who’d wanted me back after so many years.

I belonged to no man, much less my father.

I would tear the Lord of Night and his court apart.

Till all that was left was bones and dust.

Featured

Chapter VII- People of Stone and Ash

By Sara Aziz

Hey readers, hope you enjoy Chapter 7, and please like and subscribe! This will be the last chapter I publish over summer break, but I will continue the story after the start of the new school year!

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We continued to walk, the silence suffocating. Damien was near the front when Aleksandr suddenly stopped.

“What are you doing, you psycho?” Alyona nearly shrieked as she stumbled into him.

He have her the gesture to be quiet, than muttered in a sharp voice,

“Will you be quiet.”

“EXCUSE ME? MY FEET ARE FREEZING, I’M HUNGRY, AND YOUR JUST STOPP-“

Aleksandr lunged over to clamp a hand over her mouth, his gaze warning. He nudged a head to the bushes.

Someone was spying on us.

Alyona stilled, and Aleksandr removed his hand as he crept towards the bush, slowly unsheathing his knife. He crouched next to it -the next movements were really to fast comprehend- but I think Aleksandr grabbed the person and threw them to the ground, because they were struggling against his grip as he pinned them. Walking closer, I saw he was a boy, around the same age as me. His hair was a dark brown with black streaks, and his skin was a sort of bronze, like the people who lived in the foreign kingdoms. He opened his eyes, revealing a silvery gray color, like the portrait frames back home, and suddenly, I felt a cascade of homesickness. Shoving that to the side, I stepped back so that Alyona could have a closer look at the sneak.

As she leaned towards him, he began to yell, seeming to have finally regained his senses.

“Get off me! Get off me, you brute! You lummox! You scoundrel of the lowest order!” He went on ranting as Aleksandr quickly tied him, then rose as we moved back a step.

“Thieves! Bandits!” He continued shrieking, almost hysterically.

Aleksandr leaned towards him and muttered something in his ear that had the color draining from his face. He gulped, then turned to look at us, his eyes darting to us, then our surroundings, trying to find somewhere to run no doubt.

“Wh-Who are you?” His voice was quiet, and very scared. I winced at the fear in his voice, hating I was one of the causes of it. He didn’t know who we were, what was going on, or what amount of danger he was in. Almost involuntarily, I walked towards him and knelt next to him.

“We aren’t going to hurt you,”

“We won’t hurt you, I promise.”

He looked at me, his eyes wary, but hopeful. Unsure as well.

Finally, he let out a breath and said.

“My name’s Ishaan. What is yours?”

“Annamaria. But you can call me Maria.”

He turned to look at the rest of us looming over him.

“Then who are you?”

__________________________________

She was still kneeling next to me, her skin radiating warmth in the terrible cold. Her hair shielded her face, her porcelain skin as pale as the snow that surrounded us. With her delicate skin, dark hair, and deep red eyes, she looked like a Rashkinka doll from back home, like my little sister used to play with. It was meant to stay on the shelf, but she loved that doll anyway.

The excitable brunette came closer and smiled at me, her brown hair matching her eyes like a forest.

“My name’s Alyona. Do you mind if I check for injuries?”

I immediately recoiled as she outstretched her hand.

“I don’t like being touched.”

Her eyes were startled, before looking at the dark-haired woman rising next to me, obviously hoping her friend could give her some explanation. Then, her eyes lit up, sparkling with a mischievous glint I used to see every time Charun dragged me into another of his plots.

Charun.

My best friend.

वह ईश्वर के बगीचे में सदैव ऊँचा चलता रहे

“Where are you going then, Ishaan?”

“Anywhere you’re not.”

“Then you’re out of luck, Ishaan. Because you’re going to be our guide.” Maria whipped her head up to stare at her as everyone else in her group glared. Alyona’s smile was serene as the brute that had tackled me leaned forward to growl,

“This is not your choice, Alyona. Your whims cannot determine our safety.”

“You think he is a danger to us? Don’t make me laugh. He is travelling on his own, seems to understand the terrain, and most importantly, he’s our only option.”

I decidedly already knew I despised people choosing my future for me, and this brown-eyed brunette wasn’t going to command me anymore than they had.

I felt a small hand on my arm, and I looked down to see a scarred, white hand clasping my arm.

“Please. You’re our only hope of getting there within the next week. I’m begging you.”

I didn’t know what was so special about one week, or why they had to be there, but she was obviously desperate, and the tugs at my conscious did not to allow me to refuse. She and Alyona didn’t seem like bad people, after all.

“Where do you want to go?”

“Hirhol.”

Hirhol. A city of ghosts and graves.

“I’ll take you”

“No. It’s not safe, Maria.” A boy with hair as black as hers and golden eyes stepped towards her, his eyes soft as they looked at her before hardening as he turned to glance at me. They were obviously friends, and he seemed determined to protect her.

“For once, Aleksandr’s right.” The large brutes sputtering at the golden-eyed one was almost enough to make me laugh.

“We can’t trust him.”

“Really Damien, I highly doubt it.”

Damien. Alyona. Aleksandr. Maria.

“Who are you?” I asked the one hanging near the back.

“Levka.”

“Mikhail,” The other one supplied, stumbling a bit as he quietly clutching a stack of books like his life depended on it. Levka had words tattood on his arm, I saw, as his sleeves rolled up when he went to help take some books from Mikhail, who was beginning to struggle.

There is no home in life, but in death, there you will find eternal peace

The Ten Skulls

Hmm. I narrowed my eyes at the still arguing Damien and Maria as both of them decided my fate again, taking it from me.

“Why can’t she choose?” I asked.

“Because Maria doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” He almost shouted the words, fear bleeding from the broken edges of his voice, like glass. But glass is double edged.

Break glass, and you bleed.

“I can take care of myself.” Her voice was curt, and he winced before rubbing the back of his neck and sighing.

“Fine. If Maria really believes he’s harmless, he’ll be our guide.”

Aleksandr looked like he was about to choke, his face was so blue, as Maria knelt again and untied me, her hands feather soft.

She stood and held out a hand to help me rise. They don’t know who I am. Perhaps it is best that way.

Perhaps.

________________________________________________

Ishaan was quiet as he led us through a towering forest, the green mixing with the suns setting pink and orange hues, reflecting upon the white of the crisp, pure, untreaded snow to create a picture so enchanting, a thousand words of a thousand writers couldn’t not have described, nor could a painter have captured it, the darkness of an eternal night now melding with the light and sun of day, creating the best of both worlds.

‘That sounds wrong,’ I thought. I explain a lot of things wrong, don’t I?

Levka stood next to me, his arms carrying many of my books.

Friend.

Maria walked near the front, glancing back every now and again to make sure I was alright.

Friend.

No book could have described what it felt like to care, and to have someone care. It felt like a single misplaced word could ruin everything, and also like they could destroy everything you own, and you will still love them. Friends,

Friends,

Friends.

Ishaan stopped for a moment as the sunset began to end, the darkness beginning.

“Why are you stopping?” Aleksandr’s irritated voice broke in.

“The sunset is about to be over, and I wish to see it.” His voice was calm, and his face was serene. Once the sun had faded and the moon finally took its place in the sky, Ishaan continued to walk, footsteps forming in the snow from each fall of his boots, leather and thin. He wore a green shirt that had seen better days, each blow of the wind a whip upon my heavily prepared self, but Ishaan didn’t even flinch, his tranquility at odds with the hysterical boy Aleksandr had tackled earlier. We must have walked for hours, my legs growing tired quickly, each step a struggle. Alyona collapsed, but Aleksandr quickly caught her and carried her through the rest of the wood, her breaths thin.

“How much longer?” He finally barked at Ishaan after hours of peaceful silence.

All Ishaan did was point. And there, down the hill, was a city, fortified with walls of stone.

Hirhol.

A city of ghosts.

“If you can get inside, I can take you too a…friend of sorts, who can help you get anywhere in the city.”

“What do you mean, if we can?”

“Hirhol is one of the most well-fortified cities on the planet, and they plan to keep it that way. Immigrants and refugees are guarded against with a ferocity that is well-known throughout the educated countries.” His smooth jab at Jeterna in his calm voice was enough to make Aleksandr clench his fists, Alyona narrow her eyes, and Damien growl.

Patriotism.

I never was one for it.

“We aren’t refugees or immigrants, though.” Alyona told him, her voice a tad cooler.

“Then what are you?” He had a slim eyebrow raised, his voice genuinely curious. Maria hurried to stand next to him.

“We are nothing and we are no one. We’re just looking for someone.”

“Who?”

This was going into dangerous territory.

“My father. Marco Lopez.”

“I’ve heard of him! He’s a neurobiologist?”

“Yes. He went missing a few months ago.”

Ishaan nodded, apparently satisfied with her answer. They didn’t seem to notice the tremble in her voice, the way her fingers flexed, like she wanted to curl them.

We’re entering a city of ghosts, I reminded myself, as we walked down the hill.

Everyone has a secret,

and skeletons are stacked high.

_____________________________

We stopped in front of the gates, the iron and stone a mockery of my lies. Everything was flashing in my mind, in front of my eyes.

Missing.

Alive.

But most of all,

a grave I visited, a grave I buried, near the riverside.

A stone, blank and curved marked the spot. The wind had rustled when I went to see it, the willow leaves fluttering violently, just like at her funeral. The river was a rushing torrent behind me.

“You said you’d always be there.” My voice was broken, as I looked up to see my father.

He stood in front of his grave, a soft smile on his face as his black curls fell into his eyes just like they had whenever we played tag among the fir trees back home.

He would throw his head back and laugh, a booming sound that resonated all throughout the fields. Then he would pick me up, spin me around, and call me his angel.

“Sometimes people lie, don’t they?”

He nodded sadly.

“I never meant a thing to you, did I?” My head was bowed, my voice thick, as I struggled to hold back my tears.

“I never meant a thing to you. If I had, you might have stayed.”

He shook his head, reaching towards me, arms outstretched, and with a strangled sob, I launched myself at him. But when I opened my eyes, he was gone, and all I held was a broken dream and a thousand memories, in front of a shallow grave.

“Who are you?” A man barked at us from the gate, his black hair with a streak of white gleaming in the sun like a horrid skunk creature.

“We are foreigners, good man, and we wish to enter the enlightened city.” Ishaan’s voice was cold.

“Is that you, Kaur?” A man called down, standing at the top of the gate, this one with gray hair and brown eyes.

“Good day, Robir,” He called back.

“मैं उस पास का उपयोग करता हूं जो गेट ने उनके लिए दिया है, अच्छा प्रबुद्ध शहर।” There was a pause, then,

“Let ’em in!” The guard called.

The gates creaked open, and we walked in, feeling more than a bit apprehensive as the gates clanged behind us.

“That was easier than I thought.” Damien said with a smirk even I found annoying.

“Yes. Easy.” Ishaan’s voice was clipped, and the corners of his eyes tightened.

What had he said?

Mikhail sidled up next to me.

“I wonder what the pass of the gate means.” he murmured.

“What pass?”

“You didn’t understand him?”

“No! What did he say?”

“I use the pass that the gate has given for them, good illuminated city.”

I paused, digesting that rather strange bit of information.

“I guess we have our own little mission in Hirhol now, don’t we?”

He gave me a broad smile before trotting to the front to walk with Levka.

My smile slowly faded as we made our way through the streets.

“I have a friend who can help you in there,” Ishaan nodded his head toward a building.

The Queens Inn, Best Beds in Town!

A rowdy dance, a man laughing near the fire.

Two step,

Three step,

Twirl,

Bow.

“Come on, angel!”

My father spun me around on the floor as my mother danced behind us, singing an off-key tune.

“Good night, honey,” She whispered as I fell asleep.

Waking up to her leaving.

“Go back to sleep.”

“Mama?”

“Go back to sleep.”

Her face was blurry.

“Go back to sleep.”

The streets were near empty as we walked, and the ones who were there kept there heads ducked and wore clothes that seemed to blend with the walls of stone.

I’ve been here before.

It was different, though.

“Where do you want to start looking for Maria’s father?” Ishaan asked, making me almost wince at the reminder of my lie.

“We’ll start at the palace,” Damien said confidently. Ishaan stopped abruptly, then he burst out laughing, the walls and ground seeming to absorb the beautiful sound, free and bright.

“Very few people can just waltz right in.”

“You said the same about the gates,” Alyona pointed out,

“And look how easy that was.”

His calm smile never once wavered.

__________________________________

“No.”

That was the only response we got from those guards.

No.

Ishaan gave us a small bow as he turned, his eyes dancing with amusement, as though to leave.

“Where are you going?” Maria asked.

“You wanted a guide into the city, and now I have been one. And besides, I have told you where you can find help. You will be fine. ” He gave her a faint smile as he backed away, then whirling around so as to walk forward, straight into a city of silence.

I cradled my books even more protectively, already missing the calm presence of Ishaan Kaur.

“What will we do now?” Alyona’s voice was thin, her eyes bordered with silver.

Maria’s smile was just as thin, but she pointed at a large building with faded words that I couldn’t make out.

“When in doubt, just go to the library.”

Her steps were light and quick, a hopeful glint in her eye replacing the small smile she had before. She pushed open the doors quietly, and a small woman looked up from behind a cart. It was piled with old classics from civilizations long gone.

Crime and Punishment.

Bleak House.

Great Expectations.

War and Peace.

Notes from the Underground.

Pride and Prejudice.

A hundred stories of a hundred lives.

“Hello, strangers.” She had a soft, feathery voice that seemed like it would rip or break with the softest wind. Her eyes were a pale blue, rheumy and deep.

“Welcome to my library.”

Aleksandr tensed.

“This is useless. Why are we here? We are merely following the orders of an untrained little girl! When you all come to your senses, I will be trying to find some actual information.”

With those words, he turned and stormed out, Alyona sending Maria a regretful smile as she followed him, Damien, and Levka out.

“Mikhail, you coming?” Levka called from the doorway.

“Yeah.” I turned to give Maria one last glance, and saw her staring after us, the slight wind pushing her hair across her face, her eyes flashing. And then she turned and vanished into the endless, dark stacks of the library.

___________________________________

“Wait, child!” The old woman cried, her legs creaking as she relied on a old wooden cane. I stopped, barely inclining my head so as to see her.

“Seems you can appreciate the beauty of the written word, and the wisdom of those who are now gone.”

A riddle.

“When the dead speak, I shall listen, but till then, may I stand and fight.”

“Well aren’t you a clever one. 1000 Breakable Things, by Zarai Kernati.”

I turned at that, a faint smiling pulling at my lips.

“You like to read.”

“And you like to listen.”

With a purpose in her steps, she walked over to a shelf behind me, well-organized yet dusty. She pulled out a black book, the cover laced with blue. In faded white letters, it said,

Soulseers.

I knew that title.

It was the first book banned in Jeterna since the Brother came into power.

“People are afraid of knowledge.” I said, raising my eyes to hers.

“And yet when they need it, it is always there.”

“Yeah. Frozen Dreams by Carilque Shrinkiha”

“Your friends did not seem to appreciate the value of books.”

“No, they didn’t.”

“Don’t worry, dear. Even the most stubborn souls have a way of coming to see the right way, don’t they?”

Soulseers

Looking back up, she was gone. I found my way to a moldy looking table, and pulling out a weak chair, I sat down and opened the book.

With so many mystical and magical things in this world, perhaps the rarest and most beautiful things would be the Soulseers. Capable of seeing the soul in a human body, they can predict how dark or light a soul will become and can tell every truth you tell from the lies. But darkness also controls them. To see a soul means you can steal a soul. Stealing a soul means you can take on their memories, become that person, if only in mind. But every time you steal a soul, a part of your own is permanently damage–

The words were suddenly blotted out. Blinking, I turned to the next page. It was blank. I flipped through the pages, suddenly frantic, looking, but everywhere was blank. Sighing, I closed the book and stood up. Walking back over to the cart she had been standing next to when we walked in, I pulled out Little Women.

“Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents…”

_______________________
As Aleksandr trudged on, I glanced back at the library, and suddenly, I felt angry.

“Where are we going?”

He shrugged.

“So you just dragged us out here, separated us, and you have no actual plan?”

He shrugged again, and for some reason, this just made me even angrier.

“Why do you hate her? She never even did anything to you!”

“You don’t know anything, Alyona.” His voice was ice as he whirled around to face me, his eyes fire.

“Hey, guys?” Mikhail’s timid, scared voice was enough to make Aleksandr look at him. His face was worried and pale.

“Where’s Damien?”

_____________________________________________

It took me 15 years to discover I had no talent for writing, but I couldn’t give it up, because by then I was too famous.

Robert Benchley

Featured

Chapter VI- Nightmares are Dreams Too

By Sara Aziz

Hey readers, I hope you enjoy Chapter 6, and if you have any comments or critiques, please feel free! Chapter 7 is coming out on July 7th!

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Dreams are lonely.

Dreams are painful.

Dreams are memories.

She was humming a song to herself as she cooked, her apron covered in flour and sauce. She smelled like jasmine.

Mother.

“Wash your hands, dear, it’s almost time to set the table!” She beamed at me.

I didn’t move. She looked just like Mother, she smelled just like her. But something was off, something was wrong.

Her smile vanished. She gently placed down the bowl and untied her apron.

She moved like lightning.

I felt a horrible sting on my cheek as my head snapped to the side.

She slapped me.

Good to see you too, Mother.

Suddenly, her delicate pale hands morphed into black claws, her face elongated and her red eyes turned black and green.

This wasn’t her. It’s a nightmare.

This is just a nightmare.

“What should we do, sisters?” This fake version of Mother had a grating voice, like the scraping of a knife on granite.

Nightmare.

It’s just a nightmare.

“I say we kill her,” another voice chimed in, excitement clear in her voice.

“No, no, no, I want to see what happens!”

“Wh-“

Nightmare.

Nightmare.

Nightmare.

“Silence!” A new voice entered the fray.

Female.

She had quick, clicking footsteps.

“Ah, ah, ah, let’s not be naughty” Her voice was amused. I wanted to gouge her eyes out with a rusted spoon.

Suddenly, she slashed at my face with her nails.

I still couldn’t see her.

My blood dripped red.

“Find him”

Her voice was a hiss now, quiet and almost indecipherable.

“Bring me back my son”

______________________

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty, time to go.” A teasing voice jarred me to wakefulness as Alyona gave me a wink from across the room. Her eyes were tired, her hands slightly trembling. I returned her exhausted smile and her eyes brightened a bit.

“The Brother wants us gone by sundown, remember?” I faintly recalled her coming in this morning with Levka, her annoyance, his abrupt departure, his gift. I almost smiled. Until I saw the blood on the dagger Damien had given me.

Pixie blood.

Please don’t look, I silently prayed.

If she knew my secrets, she would leave me too.

If she knew how wrong I was inside, what twisted daggers lay in my heart, she would never want to see me again.

I don’t care though.

If anyone tries to hurt her, I will tear them to pieces.

I lost a lot of things after I lost my freedom.

My home.

Most of my family.

But not my strength.

I will destroy their lives bit by bit, stone by stone, until nothing was left but the bitterness of death and despair.

“Why?”

“What?” She didn’t understand the question.

I’m not sure I did either. But I couldn’t dwell in my thoughts.

They would destroy me.

“Why does the Brother hate humanity, yet create an organization filled with it?” She stilled.

We both knew of the raids, of the slaughters that occurred. One species was targeted above all though.

Humans.

Worthless lives.

People protested the killings, but they were silenced too.

Fools.

They place the ethics that they have taken unto themselves upon others so as to not disturb the senses. But to do so means they will not see the immorality or the change that is happening around them. They are blinding themselves.

They blind themselves and ask why they cannot see.

“The Brother does not want to destroy humanity himself. He wants to watch humanity destroy itself. He believes that if you put the wrong people in charge, the countries will dissolve into wars that have no meaning. People will revolt. Fighting, rebellions, murders. And when the dust settles, humanity will die. And when humanity is dead, a new world will rise from the ashes.” Her voice was quiet as she fiddled with the bag’s straps. She was repeating something, I realized.

But what?

“Without us in it.” The words were a bitter tang in my mouth.

I’m not sure if I’m human or not.

Mother told me I wasn’t.

Father told me I was.

But both are liars.

He said he’d never leave.

He left me.

She promised she’d always be there.

She left me.

They always leave.

They stole my freedom and called it hope.

I can’t leave this forsaken country.

This isn’t freedom.

This is a prison.

“Yeah. We’re useful to him now. But when we lose our usefulness, we lose our protection.” Her eyes were shadowed.

“How…pragmatic” My words were careful and slightly unsure.

She blinked, then suddenly laughed, and the tension was broken. But it still floated above our heads, the horrible truth.

We were all going to die soon.

And the clock was ticking.

____________________________

As I carried my backpack down the stairs, I heard laughter resonating through the hallway. I looked over the handrail to see Alyona hugging Mikhail as he struggled to get away, a smile on his face. Levka was also grinning, but it looked hilariously forced. Damien was leaning on a pillar, completely at ease, while Aleksandr was standing tall, watching the clouds shift outside. It was a peaceful scene. As I made my way down, Damien looked up and noticed me. Flashing me a wolfish smile, he inclined his head. I bared my teeth in return.

His eyes flashed with surprise before he snorted a laugh. Alyona turned her head and gave me a huge grin.

It hurt.

She was honest.

She was good.

She would leave me too.

They always do.

“Hey!” I ran down the remaining stairs and stopped in front of Alyona, my hair now wind-blown and messy, falling in front of my eyes. She nudged me, her face mischievous, and I turned to see Damien staring at me before realizing I saw him, suddenly turning away. My cheeks flushed and Aleksandr began glaring at me, apparently bored of the clouds.

“Come on, we need to go!” Dragging me from the room, Alyona strode with a hurried pace I began to mimic. Abruptly stopping in front of the building, she climbed into a large black monstrosity of a carriage, seeming perfectly at ease, completely at odds with the nervous woman I had seen earlier. As Damien climbed in, he slid next to me as Aleksandr, Levka, and Mikhail also found their seats. The carriage jolted as it started and I suddenly realized, I had no idea where we were going.

“Where are we heading?” I directed the question toward the carriage as a whole.

Mikhail responded.

“A city south of Fjiduna called Hirhol”

Hirhol.

Why was that familiar?

We continued in silence.

_____________________________________

have you born,

the Christ’s of faith?

have you see the trees of truth?

have you broken every chain,

that forbade you from hope?

find who you are,

find in yourself,

the courage to continue,

the courage of faith,

the courage to believe.

Songs of The Believers

________________________________________

I woke up to the carriage’s abrupt halt, jolting us all awake. I opened my eyes to find I was resting on someone’s shoulder. I looked up to see Damien slowly straightening as he began to yawn. I then looked over at Alyona, who was now pretending to faint, then wake up and place her hands on her heart.

I began contemplating where to place her grave.

“What the hell is going on?” Levka’s irritated voice broke through the silence as he opened the carriage door to find heavy snow.

“Hey!” He was leaning out the door to face the driver. His sudden swear was enough to get us all on edge.

“What the-!”

“Will you just tell us what’s going on?” Alyona broke in.

He leaned back in and slumped into his seat.

“The driver’s gone, and we have a broken wheel.”

There was complete quiet.

“Don’t we have a replacement?” Mikhail sounded almost timid, obviously unsure.

“No, we don’t,” Aleksandr rumbled, his deep voice quiet.

“The driver is supposed to be skilled enough that we don’t need one.”

“So we have to walk?” I interjected, suddenly worried.

“Obviously,” he sneered.

Oh my God.

____________________________________

As we climbed out of the carriage, Alyona saw Damien get out before me. She had a strange glint in her eyes that made me wearily suspicious.

“What are you-“

Suddenly, she shoved me out of the carriage, and I was falling,

falling,

falling,

until two arms encircled me and held me up. I looked up to see the raised eyebrows and beautiful chocolate-gold eyes of Damien Gray.

Cheeks flushing, I pushed away, and he opened his arms wide to help me. I turned and gave Alyona my worst glare.

She gave me an angelic smile in return.

Shouldering my pack, I began to follow Aleksandr as the snow raged around us.

Each step was a monumental effort of the worst kind, but Mikhail had it worse. With his books piled on him, he had to be struggling.

Don’t do it.

Don’t you-

Oh, whatever.

Doubling back, I grabbed some books from Mikhail and kept walking. He gave me a grateful look as we continued forward, but neither of us wasted our breath for thanks.

__________________________________

We finally stopped when we realized the sun was setting, knowing we couldn’t continue like this for much longer, and that we needed rest. As I sat down on a frost-covered log, I shivered from the horrible cold. I felt a sudden warmth cover my shoulders and I looked down to see a large jacket covering me, and Damien sitting down next to me, his arms now bare as he stared at the sunset, resting his forearms on his knees and frowning slightly. Alyona wasn’t even doing anything I realized, but just staring in shock, before giving me two thumbs up and a wink.

Dear God, she just couldn’t be subtle, could she?

Aleksandr glanced at the jacket around my shoulders, his peaceful expression shifting to one of disgust and a slight rage. He probably wanted me to die of hypothermia. He turned back to the large pile of sticks he had gathered, and pulling out a match from his jeans pocket, struck it, and dropped it into the pile, starting a fire. I stared at the flames and remembered telling my mother of a dream I had. I was 7, and the girls in my class talked about how much fun it was, camping with your parents. You played and told stories, and ate marshmallows and candy.

To a 7-year-old, that was heaven.

I’d wanted to go camping with her and Dad, and in the dream, I’d done it. Mom was smiling and eating and she tucked me in at night after telling me a scary story beneath the stars. But when I told her about my dream, she laughed.

“I’m sure it was a beautiful dream, dear. But I think you forgot something.”

“What?” I was so confused, so stupidly naïve.

Her smile was soft with a serrated edge.

“You forgot that nightmares are dreams too”

I bit my lip, hard, as I tried to focus on where I was, where I am.

I tasted blood.

“Hey.” The voice was soft, and a hand reached over to wipe my cheek.

I hadn’t even realized I was crying.

“Hey,” Damien’s voice was quiet so that only I could hear him. He gently cupped my chin -a mockery of when he had roughly grabbed it only a few days prior- and made me look into the sky.

My breath caught.

There were millions of stars, each one sparkling in the icy beauty of the north.

They weren’t overly flashy, but their beauty was a sort of grace humanity had lost long ago. I leaned into Damien as I watched the stars till my eyes drifted shut and I prayed for a dreamless sleep.

After all, nightmares are dreams too.

_________________________________________

Despite the exposure to the cold, my arms felt warm wrapped around Maria. What was she crying about? What plagued her so much that she didn’t even realize she was crying until I wiped her tears?

Mateo would have known.

I will get him back.

But I had never felt so dirty then now, as I realized that to save him, everyone here would die.

The foul-mouthed sharpshooter.

The shy bookworm of an alchemist.

The strangely obvious healer.

And the loyal Aleksandr.

But Maria.

To save Mateo, she would have to die.

I have never felt so disgustingly dirty than now, as I stared up to the sky she had so reverently gazed at only minutes before.

I was trapped in a nightmare.

A nightmare of my own creation.

And my back bowed as I let the silent tears flow and fall to the pure snow-covered ground, each one a silent apology.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry.

______________________________

I woke up to find my head in Damien’s lap as he gently ran a finger through my hair, shaking it slightly, trying to wake me up. I sat up and gave him an embarrassed smile as I shrugged off his jacket and gave it back.

“Thank you,”

“No problem” He easily slung it back on as he stood up and stretched, his eyes suspiciously red, like he hadn’t been sleeping.

Did Sariati even need sleep?

“We have to keep going” Aleksandr announced, his voice efficient and as icy as the snow around us.

“Someone wake up Alyona”

I turned and stifled a laugh.

Alyona was lying face down on the ground atop a blanket she somehow had fit into her pack, and she had her arms splayed around her like she was trying to hug the world as one leg seemed to be mid-kick, the other one facing the opposite direction.

“How the hell is that comfortable?” Levka wondered out loud.

Striding over, I pulled out my notebook and rolled it up.

Placing it next to her ear, I yelled,

“WAKE! UP!!!”

Catapulting backward, Alyona somehow landed on her feet and had my arm behind my back and the other pushed upward, one shove from being dislocated. I couldn’t hold it in anymore, and I burst out laughing. She blinked and shoved me away, grumbling as she collapsed back onto her blanket.

“It’s time to go,” Aleksandr told her, his voice softer than before.

“No”

“Its morn-“

“No”

“We have to g-“

“No”

I felt like I was suffocating from the mere effort of not laughing.

Walking over, I whispered in her ear,

“If you don’t get up, I’m telling Levka about your stuffed animal, Mrs. Purrikins.”

She looked me dead in the eye.

“You wouldn’t”

“Try me”

She groaned as she sat up, her back cracking, as she began folding her blanket, sending me rebellious looks every few seconds.

I repressed a smile.

Oh yeah, this is going to be fun.

++++++++++

 “Halloween is the beginning of the holiday shopping season. That’s for women. The beginning of the holiday shopping season for men is Christmas Eve.”
—David Letterman

Featured

Chapter V- In Every Wish, A Prayer

By Sara Aziz

Hey readers, I hope you enjoy Chapter V and please like and subscribe! This chapter is a bit different, because I wrote this one with flashes from the other characters’ points of view, beginning with Annamaria and shifting to the other characters. I always welcome helpful critiques, and any constructive criticisms are also great! Enjoy!
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“Every person has a story, something that made them who they are. I am not rare, nor different, or especially unique. Rather, I am a normal girl. A girl who has two brothers. A girl who has both her parents, a girl who cares for everyone she meets. But there is a passage I will always remember, no matter where I am, and who I become.” I read aloud in the dim candlelit room, the shadows pooling and dripping gently on the books, each one seeming to bleed its hidden story.

Every hidden lie.

“To break is to shatter. To shatter is to cut. To cut is to kill. Break me, you die, heal me, love me, you create me.” My hands began to tremble.

“I will always love, and I will always wait. I will be what I wish the world was, and I will be the good I pray to see. Always.

Always.

Always.” I closed the book as I blew out the candle and fell back, into my pillow, and into the realm of sleep. But the words still echoed.

I will be what I wish I could see.

I will love.

I will pray.

I will heal.

________________

I paced the length of the room, blowing out a breath as I ran my hand through my chocolate hair. He had laughed while he called it beautiful.

Forget,

Forget,

Forget,

My back was burning, the scar he had given me old, yet flaming nonetheless.

Forget,

Forget,

Forget.

He wants me to forgive him, he wants me to come back, his pleading eyes so much like mine.

Forget,

Forget

Forget.

I was a liar. I was a liar. Alyona, Alyona, Alyona.

Lie,

Lie,

Lie.

My name is Alyona.

Liar,

Liar,

Liar.

This is all his fault.

All his fault.

Forget,

Forget,

Forget.

She had smiled, listened, hugged me, and cared when no one else had. She was hiding secrets too. Like me,

me,

me.

She had red eyes, and black hair, like

her,

her,

her.

If she knew my secret, she would never forgive me.

I never wanted this. I was a child then. I had no choice. She had to understand.

She had to.

My breath became labored.

Forgive,

Forgive,

Forgive.

____________________

I knew want they thought when they looked at me. They thought I was a traitor. Levka, the boy who had stolen food before he learned to read. The boy who joked and lied to cover every break in his façade. The boy who was too broken to ever let anyone care about him without hurting them.

He hurt her.

Because he was too broken.

She was on fire and I was a shadow. The only thing that could never touch the fire, never burn in the flames. But I was burning.

Burning every day.

I needed her fire.

I was so cold.

So cold.

I took a shuddering breath as I pushed the door open and walked into the hallway, my room looking more and more like a sanctuary the further I went. The Brother wanted me to wake Annamaria, and I gave a small smirk when I thought about how mad she would be. Making her angry was just so fun. But I stilled when I saw who was pacing in front of Annamaria’s door. She reached out a hand as though to open it before pulling it back and pacing again.

I swallowed hard.

Alyona.

Fire.

I strode forward, my steps resounding like thunder in the quiet hallway, and her head whirled, only to see me, her hard brown eyes widening a fraction before narrowing.

“Levka” She spat my name like it was a curse. To her, it probably was.

She hated me. And for good reason. She had wanted to be my friend, had treated me like an equal when no one else would, and the first chance I had, I stabbed her in the back. I was the shadow, and she was the flame. But I suffocated her.

She hates me.

And it’s all my fault.

“The Brother asked me to wake Annamaria, it’s time for us to go.” I made my voice sharp.

I saw her eyes flash again, this time with hurt, before they became emotionless, beautiful chocolate.

She hates me.

And I have to let her.

Because I never deserved her anyway.

________________

I almost flinched at the harshness of Levka’s voice, so much like his.

Forget,

Forget,

Forget.

“Well then knock on the door already” I spat back, wanting him to hurt like he hurt me.

But he didn’t even blink.

I had cared for him, loved him like a brother, and all he did was hurt,

hurt,

hurt,

just like him,

him,

him.

Forget,

Forget,

Forget.

“I thought you were.” His voice was dry and my cheeks flushed. I grabbed the doorknob and twisted, shoving open the door and storming in. She was turned on her side, a book tucked under one arm, her face peaceful. I gently shook her arm and her eyes drifted open, revealing a warm scarlet red. She gave me a sleepy smile as she sat up and stretched.

“Wuz goin’ on?” Maria yawned, her arm over her mouth.

“Conan the Barbarian is under orders to bring you to the Brother”

I heard a throat clear in the hallway.

“Fine, he’s only going to tell you to get ready, we’re leaving” I amended.

But that was as far as I was willing to go.

“Doesn’t seem like a barbarian, he’s still waiting in the hall, in case I wasn’t decent” she observed, more awake now, her eyes already scanning her surroundings.

I scowled.

“Oh, all right, you can come in now” I called. Levka came swaggering in, and he gave Annamaria a smile.

“How late do you sleep?”

“Till one, like a civilized human,” she said, smiling back. My chest tightened for some reason. Perhaps the air quality wasn’t good.

He nudged his head toward the closet.

“You better get packing. Anymore waiting and the Brother might just kick you out.”

Annamaria snorted.

“I’m not that lucky.”

Levka stared at her for a minute, and then turned and walked away, his steps echoing in the quiet of dawn.

I turned abruptly and began rifling through her closet. I felt stupid. Stupid for the green-eyed monster in me. I wished I could warn her.

Wish,

wish,

wish.

But when has wishing ever given me anything but

pain,

pain,

pain.

I pulled out the black corsets Maria had picked up and turned to find her standing right behind me, our noses nearly colliding. I reared back and Maria gave me a half smile.

“I don’t have a bag.”

I blinked.

“What?”

“I have one” I heard Levka call back from the hallway.

I pinched my lips in disgust as Maria gave me another half-smile and opened the door again for Levka, who handed her a bag that I was sure he had probably stolen from someone. She then shooed him off so she could change and I cracked a smile at that. The shocked look on his face was enough to make my day that much better.

She grabbed some clothes and ducked into the closet as I continued talking to her through the closed door.

“Remember, pack the essentials. Knives, daggers, first aid, and the like.”

I turned and walked out the door to go pack my own bag, the stairs looming.

I could hear her laughter all the way back

down,

down,

down.

___________________

I was twitching as I walked back to the library, my arms full of books. I needed to figure out which one to bring.

“Mikhail!” a booming voice behind me said, and I jumped. Mikhail. Yes. Me.

Mikhail.

Yes.

Me.

Right.

Right.

Right.

I turned and it was Levka, his broad smile, and sparkling eyes putting me at ease.

It wasn’t him.

“Levka,” I greeted my old friend as he clapped me on the back and my books nearly toppled out of my arms. He laughed again and picked up about half the books as we walked into the library together, my steps easier and lighter now.

Yes.

Friend.

Yes.

Friend.

“What are you doing with all these books anyway?” He asked, seeming to weigh the books in his arms. I grinned.

“I’m choosing which one to bring.”

He gave me a startled look, then began laughing again.

“Narrow it down, buddy,” He said.

“Wish I could help. Have to pack my own bag, and two girls just shooed me out of a room because one of them hates my guts.” He grimaced and I chuckled.

Friend.

Friend.

Friend.

“They are girls, what do you expect?” I asked, and he grinned again. He put down the books on a wooden table and I dumped mine too.

“See you Mikhail. And please, don’t bring everything, my back won’t survive.” He gave me a fake pleading look.

I smiled.

“I won’t.”

He knew I was lying.

He laughed as he left, whistling an off-key tune.

My smile faded.

Friend.

Gone.

Friend.

Gone.

Friend.

Gone.

_______________________________

I watched them move about, running like hamsters in a cage.

Levka, the broken traitor in the making.

Alyona, the fiery, shattered healer.

Mikhail, the terrified alchemist.

And Annamaria.

Who has a power that could bring the world to its knees.

I felt its claw drag down my mind and I shuddered.

“Let it burn. Break it.” It whispered.

“Build it again”

“Build it better”

I stood suddenly, my chair toppling over.

A knock at the door opened to reveal a frightened servant. He bowed and quickly handed me a message.

“For you, Brother.”

He turned and scurried away.

I rolled my neck, the cracks ominous in the quiet. I unrolled the scroll and my eyes widened. Inside of me, he laughed. I felt sick.

For her.

I do this for her.

I closed my eyes.

“I do this for you” I whispered, praying somehow she could hear me.

Somehow she would understand.

I’m going to break the world.

And she will never forgive me.

It doesn’t matter, though. No matter what, she will be mine.

I will take her delicate, free soul and trap it in a beautiful cage of gold and deception. She will not be able to tell what is real and what is not. She will never see the truth.

But this is all for her.

Always.

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Of course it’s happening inside your head, Harry. Why should that mean it’s not real?

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore [Deathly Hallows by J.K Rowling]

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Chapter IV- A Demon in Human Skin

By Sara Aziz

Hey readers, please enjoy Chapter IV-Demon in Human Skin, and please like and subscribe!

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I didn’t know exactly when they left. Maybe it was when the sun started to fall again, the days each passing by like a blur here. Perhaps it was when I heard a rough Jeternin voice behind me, Damien’s arms lifting from my shoulders as he walked away. Alyona stayed with me though, and when the tears finally ended, we sat down and watched the sunrise together, two sisters, about to start a brand new day.

I leaned my head on Alyona’s shoulders and she leaned her head down on mine, just like I had seen my sisters do so long ago with each other, their love evident.

But never with me.

Never me.

My throat began to burn, acid climbing up.

There was a rough cough from behind us and we jolted, turning to see who had interrupted us. My eye twitched when I saw who. Aleksandr Volkov. His face was blank when he looked at us, but there was a rage in his eyes that I didn’t understand. Nor did I care. My back still stung from his brand. The one that was never supposed to be there. I turned back towards the sunrise as Alyona stood and barked at him, her voice biting.

“What do you want, Volkov?”

He gave a long-suffering sigh, so patronizing even I bristled. Alyona stiffened like a wooden babushka doll, and her eyes became nothing but slits. I cocked my head to the side to witness this battle of wills.

“The Brother would like to see her, Alyona.”

The same summoning as before. He then added, his face turned to Alyona but the fire in his deep blue eyes obviously meant for me,

“Alone.”

____________

This time, rather than the throne room, they guided me to a chamber as opulent as the throne room but covered in maps and bookshelves stacked high with titles I knew to be banned.

Typical.

The Brother was standing in the middle of the room, Aleksandr and Damien on both of his sides and two other men I didn’t know standing on the other side of the table.

“Ms. Lopez, how kind of you to join us.” His voice was saccharin, and I itched to hit him.

“They say good things take time,” I said.

Shut up,

Shut up,

Shut up.

He raised a pencil-perfect eyebrow.

“And that matters..?’

Don’t you dare say it,

Don’t you dare say it,

Don’t you dare.

“It’s why I’m late, I’m literally perfect.”

I heard a snort at the table and Damien hurrying to cover it with a cough.

I straightened my back and walked over to the table. On it was a large map showing every country. Jeterna to the north, Enamani to the east, Rterna to the south, and Fjiduna to the west. There were many more illustrated on the map, each different country in some way connected. But these countries were highlighted, their size exaggerated.

“Ms. Lopez, do you have any knowledge of geography?”

My cheeks flushed and I gave a curt nod. My hands were linked behind my back but now they were curled into fists. He thought me an idiot. He was humiliating me by trying to degrade me, make me out as a fool.

“Whatever mapmaker you have has no knowledge of proportion. Enami, Jeterna, Rterna, and Fjiduna are not nearly so large.”

If looks could kill, Aleksandr’s eyes could have buried me six feet deep and still had time to dance on my grave. When I caught his eye, he rolled them at me.

I snapped.

“Why in the world are you rolling your eyes? Are you looking for a brain?” I sighed,

“I’m afraid it does seem rather hollow in there,” My face was sympathetic, puckering my lips and turning my head to the side in an attempt to look like I marginally cared the least about him.

Damien looked like he was trying not to laugh.

The Brothers’ eyebrow was faintly raised. I took the moment to finally examine him. His features were all hard angles and sharp edges, his eyebrows a jet black, hair still covered by his hood. His eyes were such a deep blue they looked almost black, the color blending with the pupils giving you the unsettling feeling that he could stare into your soul, see your darkest secret, and still not be impressed.

‘That’s not far off,’ I thought wryly.

“Ms. Lopez when I want your opinion, I will ask. Until then, only answer the questions I say. Understood”

My lips pressed together into a hard line and my eye twitched. He saw this and gave a small smile, yet it was gone so quickly, I wondered if I had imagined it. But Damien’s shocked expression and Aleksandr’s hard face told me I hadn’t.

Actually, only Damien’s face told me. Aleksandr always looked like that around me.

I laughed softly at my joke, too loudly. They all turned to look at me, and I flushed again when the Brother angled his head as I flusteredly sat down.

“Did you know the crown prince of Rterna has gone missing?”

I nodded. I’d heard the gossip of customers as they came in and out of the shop, speaking either of poor Prince Faraj, or cursing his name for abandoning his duties.

“Good. That saves me some time. A few days ago, I received a letter from the royal Tamil family. They need outside forces involved in retrieving their son.” His eyes burned holes in my face, my cheeks growing redder with each second of breathless silence.

“I had at first no care for helping them. After all, how would it help us at all? It would cost us resources, time, and men that I honestly have no wish to spare. Until I got another letter as of yesterday. This one offers us a reward for his capture. 190,000,000 Turninli. I have received word that the king is nearing the end of his life and he wishes to see his son one last time. They need the crown prince back, as they only have the daughter as of now, and she has no intention of marrying.”

One of the men swore, a word so foul I gave a soft wince. Aleksandr’s eyes widened slightly while Damien’s face went through five stages of shock. None of us cared about the royal family, one glance around the room told me that. It took a moment for the number to set in. That much money may have been enough to empty a smaller county’s coffers. It would be enough to shove Jeterna out of its economic fall over the past few decades. This money could literally save a country.

“The king has received our letter of acceptance and you will find the lost prince. If the king dies before we find him, it will send Rterna into turmoil and we will lose all trade negotiations within the country, as the Queen is practically useless on her own. After all, what is a queen without her king?” The Brother’s lips were curled in disgust and I smiled quietly.

There was a deafening silence.

“You will find Faraj Tamil, and you will bring him back. I don’t care whether he offers you money or prestige. If you try to save him, you will find that the Ten Skulls are not so forgiving.” The Brother’s voice was an attempt at seriousness, but when I looked up, I saw his lips twitch, and I heard the amusement in his voice.

I saw even Aleksandr frown slightly at the harshness of the wording, and if there was one thing I had learned about the dark-eyed man, it was that he was loyal to a fault.

“Damien, Aleksandr, Levka, Mikhail, and Annamaria, you will work together and you will find the lost prince.” The way he said it left no room for argument and made sure it wasn’t a question.

“You’ll leave for Fjiduna by sunrise tomorrow.”

“Annamaria, do tell Alyona she is to accompany you as your healer for this mission.”

The way he said my name… like he knew it well, had said it a hundred times in a hundred different ways… Why?

He locked eyes with all of us as he strode to open the door and unlocked it,

“I would suggest you don’t disappoint me”

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Alyona was waiting outside the door, her face pinched as she paced. When she heard the doors open, her head jerked up and she gave me a broad smile. The door creaked again, and she looked up and saw Levka, her face sliding from happy to almost awestruck. Levka avoided her gaze and walked down the hallway, his cheeks slightly pink as he rushed away.

I winced at the wounded look that flashed across Alyona’s face before she was dragging me away.

I turned and caught one last look before we lost sight of them in the winding halls. Damien was leaning on a pillar near the door his eyes dark and his expression one of distaste. Aleksandr was standing ramrod straight next to him, both speaking in low tones. Mikhail left the room with the Brother, neither of their lips moving. I turned a corner, and then they were gone.

I glanced at the back of Alyona’s head.

“Where are we going?”

“Your room, obviously” Alyona looked at me again and her brown eyes were cheerful, if not a bit too bright. She was hurt, but that wasn’t what I was so surprised about. It was almost like we were…friends. I had never had one before.

Mother never let me.

I shivered as we made our way to my apparent “room” There were a lot of things Mother never let me do. And there were some things I had to do.

We stopped outside a door that was almost unnoticeable, small, and dark. We opened the door and my jaw dropped. Stacks of books, piles everywhere. There was Little Women, Dracula, and A Tale of Two Cities. I laughed as the sunlight streamed in through the two windows and I ran and threw myself on the bed, clutching all the books I could. It was a heaven. Who had chosen this room, who had filled it with books? Damien? Alyona? When I sat up, I began stacking books next to my bed while Alyona went through the closet, wincing at each unfashionably ancient dress.

“Ugh, who filled this closet, a barbarian? We’re going shopping.” The pure disgust on her face as she glared at the closet had me laughing.

“Oh you won’t be laughing in a minute” She said, grinning suddenly.

Turning, she shrieked,

“LEVKA!”

Alyona grabbed me and dragged me off the bed to the door. What’s Levka got to do with anything?

_______________________

Levka was the one who made sure no one “wandered off”, apparently. Poor guy was taking a severe tongue-lashing from Alyona.

But then I remembered her face in the hallway. The small wince of pain as he ignored her.

Suddenly, I was glad Alyona had the sharpest voice of anyone I’ve ever met.

We got into a gray carriage, Levka leaning out the window to say something to the driver. I despised these carriages, much preferring the newer invention, the motorcycle, over this old-fashioned contraption. We jolted to a start, throwing me against Levka as he climbed back in. He began to laugh and gently placed me back on my chair, my face bright red.

“I’m used to women throwing themselves at me, but never literally.”

A small smile flashed across my face. But one look at Alyona’s face had my smile dying on the spot. I looked closer at Levka. Was he really so oblivious? But he was now looking out the window and didn’t seem to notice us at all.

He finally noticed my staring, gave me a grin, and pulled a bracelet out of his weathered bag. I stared at it, confused.

I reached over and took it, my hands closing over the rough surface. I turned it inside out and froze. A name was engraved on the inside.

This was her bracelet.

This was hers.

“The Brother asked me to give it to you since I’m the one watching you.”

I scowled.

“I’m not a dog to be watched.”

“No, you’re a teenage girl with some really bad luck,” he said with a wink.

“And you’re a teenage boy with a bad sense of humor and an ugly pack,” I fired off.

He stared at me for a moment, and I had the sudden feeling no one ever actually talked back to him.

No wonder he had such a fat head.

I was not in the mood for a joker as I shoved the bracelet into my pocket, unsure whether to throw it away or slip it on my wrist and never take it off.

He finally smiled.

“Actually, I’m 20”

“And actually, I’m 18”

He chuckled before turning his head to look out the window again, his smile fading just like the sun that was fading in the constant cloudy skies of Jeterna.

____________________________________________________________

We stopped in front of a mall, our carriage looking outdated compared to the cars and motorbikes of everyone else. My face flushed pink as I rushed out, followed by Alyona and Levka. Levka seemed to silence all gossip, his joking smile gone replaced by a hard look that he seemed content at aiming at anyone stupid enough to look at us for longer than a passing glance.

When we walked inside, I was in awe of everything. There were perfumes, dresses, leggings, and trousers. Alyona grabbed my arm and dragged me inside one of the stores to the right, with mannequins dressed in black. Levka gave a small groan that made me giggle as we walked inside, Levka’s feet dragging like he wanted to be anywhere but here. A small, ferrety-looking man was standing behind the cashier, his small body hunched over. He was a very twitchy man, with oily gray hair and bony, rough-looking hands.

“Msss. Morozov! How nice to sssee you again” His voice was as oily as his hair, his tongue stretching out each s to an unnatural length. His rheumy green eyes stared at Alyona greedily. I felt rather than saw Levka move closer when the man took a step back and muttered something about checking the storeroom. He rushed into the back when Alyona whirled around to glare at Levka, her eyes shooting daggers.

“Stop trying to scare away everyone who I need to talk to you big brute!”

“Why the hell would you want to talk to him?”

I drifted away from the arguing couple as I began to look around, absentmindedly brushing my hands across all the fabrics until something made me pause. A beautiful black corset, tight and strong.

It was just like hers.

I marveled at the feel of the fabric, silky and smooth, but when I tugged at it, strong as steel. I pulled it off the rack along with a pair of tight leggings. I disappeared into the dressing room as Levka and Alyona continued to argue behind me, their voices getting louder as Levka got more irritated and Alyona more infuriated. I unlaced my dress and watched it pool at my feet. I turned to see my back in the mirror and saw the wineglass dripping venom as the snake seemed to slither across my back, almost like it was alive. I hurriedly laced the corset and shoved on the leggings. When I turned to see myself in the mirror, I stood still as I gazed at myself. I reached out tentatively and touched my hand to its reflection. I looked like her.

I looked like her.

I loved it.

I changed back quickly before rushing back to those racks and picking up different corsets, each one made with a new design that was beautiful and strong.

Alyona and Levka seemed to have finally tired of their ridiculous argument and were now looking for me. Alyona saw what I was piling up on my arms and looked from the black corsets to my white dress and gave a smile.

“I knew you were like us”

I graced her with a smile as crooked as her own as I continued to pile the clothes onto my increasingly heavy basket, which I had found lying next to a mannequin in ugly neon orange. I finally walked over to the cashier where Levka was leaning against the counter, looking supremely bored, much to Alyona’s consternation. The twitchy little man finally came back out and gave a squeal when he saw the pile of clothes I put on the counter. Levka clenched his hands into fists, I noticed, as Alyona and I paid and she smiled at the weaselly man. And when he picked up the bags, he walked stiffly, like he itched to hit someone.

My eyes gleamed.

________________________________

I couldn’t breathe. The room was closing in on me. I hated the boy looking back at me from the mirror, hated his gold eyes, hated his black hair. I hated Damien Gray. The letter was crumpled on the floor as I slid to the ground, my breath coming out in short bursts. Annamaria Lopez. I hated her. If she had never come, never shaken my world with one mischievous glance of those deep red eyes, then everything would be okay. Everything would have been okay. I couldn’t get her laughter out of my head, the strong grip of her arms on mine, the fiery warmth of her body. I couldn’t get her tears, her sobs out of my mind. I felt so helpless. Mateo would have known what to do. I put my head between my knees as I began to shake. My better half, my twin. And now he was gone and it was all my fault. Mateo would never have let me get kidnapped, get hurt, and cowered. Mateo would have felt guilt after his first kill, repulsion.

“It felt good…really good, like-“

“Meeting an old friend”

Her soft confession, the guilt in her beautiful red eyes had been my undoing. I shouldn’t have shown her the pixies, shouldn’t have let her kill one. But I needed to know if what she said was true, I needed to know if I was the only true monster. But I’m not.

Could I really destroy the only person in the world even a little bit like me?

I reeled back at my own thoughts.

No.

No.

The king wants her. The king wants Death’s messenger. And I will deliver.

I rose and reached over the broken glass that littered my floor, scraping my knees and tearing my jeans. Blood stained the floor. But it wasn’t scarlet.

It was black.

As black as death.

I was trapped. I was trapped in this cage of a murderer, a thief, a scoundrel. a man with no honor left in whatever scraps of a soul he had. I grabbed my bottle, my own poison and I began to drink as black poured from my body like the shadows I wished would pour out too. Because I knew, if I could cut my own skin, and let the shadows and memories pour out, I would.

Even if the skin I needed to cut was my own heart.

Annamaria Lopez has to die. And the bottle shattered in my hands, staining my skin the color of all the blood I’d spilled to get here, to this point. The point where everything else has led…

All the way to hell.

___________________________________________

When the carriage finally stopped, me and Alyona stepped out followed by Levka, piled high with bags upon bags of my new clothes. Alyona had offered to pay but I refused. What’s the point of having a rich family if you can’t spend all of their money any way you can?

We ran up the stairs, giggling like young girls of 13. I practically glowed as we raced to my room, Levka groaning behind us with the weight of all my new clothes. I would have felt bad for him, but I still remembered Alyona’s face when he was leaving the meeting. Then, I felt much better. We collapsed on my bed, laughing like loons, my father would say. Levka walked in, dropped the bags, and promptly walked out, grumbling about girls and clothes, and fools. Alyona and I locked eyes again and began a fresh round of giggles.

My laughter began to fade when I saw a white envelope on my dark bedside table. I sat up warily and reached for it, Alyona watching me, her eyes following the path of my hand. I grabbed the envelope and opened it carefully. I turned it upside down and out fell a small, folded letter. I opened it carefully, my hands trembling. This felt too much like… It wasn’t…

I took a deep breath and began to read.

________________

“Ms. Lopez and Ms. Morozov,

In all my years, I have yet to see someone perform a job that requires such effort out of even loyalty, much less fear. Therefore, I have taken the liberty to offer you a fraction of the money.

1,000,000 Turninli

This is a generous offer and if it is not accepted, there will be no others. There was a very famous quote, Ms. Lopez, I do hope you will remember.

“There are the people who hold, who strengthen over time, and there are those who shatter. Shatter and break apart.

Be the one who will not break”

Have a good rest of your day, Ms. Lopez, and Ms. Morozov.

Sincerely,

Nirsj Viskani “

____________

I rescanned the letter, trying to find some trick, some condition. The letter itself was written in heavy, masculine scrawl. But there was no sign of anything other than what was plainly written.

“Nirsj Viskani?” I said, taking a chance on the hope Alyona would know the name.

“The Brother.”

Alyona’s voice was quiet, her soft eyes wide.

“That’s his name. But no one is allowed to call him that. And he never signs his real name” She gave me an odd look.

“You really are special aren’t you?” Her face suddenly split into a wide grin.

The room was deafeningly silent. The message was so short but so essential. That kind of money…. with that kind of haul, I could move back to Enamani, find him, get my life back. Even just half of that money could change everything. Alyona was still smiling at me with a sly expression.

“Let’s try on some clothes”

________________

My face was sore, my lips cracking from all the smiling. I felt like I was overflowing, with yellow, and red, and gold. With ecstasy, and anger, with joy and fear.

I didn’t know why I was angry.

But I knew why I was scared.

I was always scared. I was always scared since she had burned me, burned me to try to burn it out of me, the thing everyone wanted. The more I screamed, the harder she shoved. Her hands burned too, along with me. I wonder if that’s what hurt most. Because she almost killed me… out of love.

My smile faded and my breathing became labored.

18 dresses.

3 jumpsuits.

4 walls.

Everything was swirling, everything was just like she said.

I hate you, mother.

I love you, mother.

I wish I understood you mother.

I hope I never understand you mother.

I love you,

I despise you,

I wish I could see you again,

I’m glad you died,

I miss you.

“Everything has an explanation, dear” She had whispered, tucking me in.

My skin was raw, and it was blackened. But I was alive. And that was terrifying for her.

Somehow, I was alive.

It was a miracle.

And nothing frightens people more,

than a miracle.

“You just have to find it”

__________________

Alyona looked over, her smile fading. She looked away quickly, picking up a dress and twisting it in her hands.

“You know… I’ve never seen Damien look happy before. But when he looks at you, he looks almost…content.”

I stared at her, startled for a moment, before rasping a hoarse laugh. As if. But the ludicrous statement, the ridiculousness of it, was enough to snap me back to reality.

“I haven’t known you long, but what about Levka then?”

She flinched at his name and I grinned.

Jackpot.

She tried to glare at me, but broke into giggles, and soon, I joined her. Suddenly, spontaneously, we were just laughing, about boys, about money, and about everything.

Just us.

And everything, for that minute, felt perfect.

______________________

I flexed my hand, the paleness startling next to the blackness of the cloak. It was slender and long and

not mine.

“Your name is Nirsj” I whispered, my voice echoing in the darkness. I couldn’t afford to be weak. Not now. Not when everything was so close. I will do whatever it takes to build this for her. I have journeyed through hell and suffered the fires and I would do it a thousand times over for her,

her,

her.

I felt the fire claw me on the inside, tearing me apart and burning me. I forced the pain at bay, the demon that lurked inside me. I will create a new world. One where she is safe. One where Annamaria Lopez is safe,

safe,

safe.

She can think me a monster as much as she wants, but she will be mine.

Hearing her today, seeing her raise her eyebrows and glare at me, knowing she did not even recognize me, almost broke me. She was so close, I could smell her cinnamon-pumpkin scent.

But so, so far.

I tilted the photo on my bedside table as I pulled off the cloak and fell into bed. I turned and looked at it, a woman with startling red eyes, raven black hair, and a face like an angel’s. A woman with a sarcastic, sharp tongue, and a soul full of strange and magical things. Her lips were curled into a smile, her eyes brimming and overflowing with all the secrets that hid within. I will enjoy finding out every secret in those red seas, and then, when she is finally broken, she will finally see it is only me that can heal her.

Only ever me.

“Goodnight, my love,” I murmured as I drifted into the darkness and flames.

Sleep well, my beauty.

Sleep well.

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I hope you enjoyed Chapter IV- A Demon in Human Skin, and be prepared for Chapter V on May 30th! Please like and subscribe!

Some make people happy wherever they go. Others, whenever they go.

Oscar Wilde