“This was… oh, this was so stupid.”
Her fingers ran through his arm. Wound still ruled his flesh, but Nymre was a powerful – and most of all experienced – healer. She gleamed with translucent light, caressing the sharp edges. She knew he feels pain, but for her it was obvious, that normal suffering is not stopping him anymore. Too long he was taking the much worse torment, forced to smile and pretend nothing ever happened.
She still couldn’t embrace it. He was so stubborn, always. He was always threading the path to his goal like it was an enemy, who needs to be subdued. But this…
It was probably the only way, the inner voice was trying to tell her, a touch of common sense. But it wasn’t making the whole thing less horrid. She loved him, all these years, she lived next to him, touching him, discussing realm matters. She stood by his side. And he– was taking the gods in and with them… the pain, which she couldn’t even imagine.
Her magic slowly healed him, allowing him to not add additional pain to already felt anguish.
Her voice was annoyed when she spoke, but only because so many things could go wrong. Alnam had many supporters, some of them helped him to free Tiyan Markon. Nymre almost suspected pain took common sense from Lord of Devlonmere. He never acted so reckless, ever. Freeing this human man had to be an idea born in the most decayed place of his soul. He couldn’t know what Lorian planned for Tiyan – yet not knowing anything and still acting was not similar to anything he would do.
Lord Alnam eventually reached the bottom.
Which was shocking for Nymre – but seemingly not for Lorian.
“He wanted so much to bury talons deep into my flesh, that he touched the chaos” Lorian was allowing her power to penetrate his skin, edges of the wound closing slowly, but inevitably. “His mind opened for me not long ago, surprisingly, fully. Something cracked in him, Nymre. Something that spread over his soul like a parasite. Allowed me to bite into his core. It flooded me with so many sensations. A treat of most delicious kind.”
Nymre’s hand closed over Lorian’s wound, tighter. Not because she wanted to inflict pain in him. She felt helpless next to things going faster and faster. Now, time leading to gods’ awakening was a maddened maze full of small horrors and tiny scares. Each of them reaching with their hands to them, forcing into view, to present their grotesques shapes.
Lorian’s eyes pinned her to the her seat, a wild joy in them.
She didn’t withdrew.
The window was letting the daylight in, dimmed in the overwhelming darkness of Dal’coler. This place hated the sun. Light fought each tiny second for survival in their palace. But the light… the one that fought hardest and was most resilient, was most beautiful creature that could happen here. Threaded through eternal night, it was becoming something else. A magic of its own.
“I saw his plans” Lorian’s smile bloomed even if Nymre’s talons still were in his wound, and dripped with healing power. “I knew his every step. How he takes Leira’s form. How he drops last plates of his inner armor, to reveal the delicious mental meat. I myself didn’t expect so much pus. So much rot.”
“You wanted him to make this mistake” Nymre shook her head. Since the visit in the gods’ chamber, she realized that fae are by no means all-powerful. Even her. Lorian too, even if his power was growing every day. Why if…
… gods helped Alnam? Their minds still drilled Dal’coler, deeper, harder. What if, they slipped into him and caused more anguish, to eventually push him to do this deluded move?
But of course Lorian told her only now, what he planned. A selfish bastard.
But it worked. It worked, for Sacred Forest’s sake.
Luck… or brilliance of her lover’s mind? Maybe both. And she was fool enough to not ask.
The small bottles filled with herbs were standing by her side, ready to be used. A touch of reality, which was so distant when Lorian was near. Did he make a mistake or allowed Alnam to wound him? Some twisted game, which would later make Lord of Devlonmere suffer more?
“What will happen with him, now?”
The question hanged between them. Nymre heard many times that Lorian respected his most devoted enemy. Death was the most sensible choice now – but she also knew how his mind worked. He longed for suffering. He longed for prolonged torment. And even her couldn’t imagine what he planned for Alnam Devlon.
“Do you like it?”
A sudden question, which pulled her from her thoughts.
“Like…?”
He got closer, his healthy hand reached to her hair, burying deep into the pale tangles.
“Healing me… touching my open flesh.”
She shivered. Why she was sure that he reached her mind and now reads in her like in a book? He wanted in some way to disturb her… or to instill want in her. Both worked.
She wanted to remove her hand, but she couldn’t. His shadows plastered it hard to his skin. Her light power pumped into his flesh, making it hotter…. but closing faster.
“Isn’t it tempting…” he laughed silently, a pleasant sound, like murmur of the rain after harsh drought. “… to think we could delve into each other… become one in literal way… feast on blood, pain… and pleasure. Purest than any other. A clear path to realm of beautiful torment.”
Her eyes met his black void. She was now sure he reads her mind.
“What will you do with Alnam Devlon?”
His laughter was only a tone louder now. Soft though and content, like his skin wasn’t torn with teeth not long ago, and his path didn’t involve causing the collapse of the hungry gods. She could sense twisted energy beaming off him, like the thought of having Alnam sentenced for treason is a pleasure purer than what he just painted before her.
“Something that will honor my admiration for his hatred. Something that will fill him deeper than his despise and scorn resided in my mind, feeding me with its spores…”
Nymre couldn’t stop looking at him. She could feel the almost fevered need in him. The world started to slowly collapse, revealing a whole realm in his eyes, only she could truly understand. The same light that danced between shadows in chambers of Dal’coler, was negated by his aura. Not because he was more cruel that other fairies. But… because he was darker. His needs were not shallow, he didn’t choose violence for the thrill, for amusement. He was choosing it, because his being needed it to live.
Because he pulsed under fingers of darkness, like a most eager lover.
And she loved it. And she could relate to it.
And she despised it, because it was making her weak.
A beautiful torment he mentioned, already caressed their naked limbs.
*
The candle light licked the walls like alive creatures, sharpening the shadows and creating eerie shapes, which resided in and ruled every nook and every corner of the chamber. It was like daylight, entering Dal’coler, was becoming as vile as its darkness – dull, enshadowed and dangerous. The flames knew that not all what is bright can become a day in the end.
Lorian stood on the balcony of his room, when they dragged Mina in. He seemed to be completely lost in his thoughts… his shadows swirled around his arms, reaching through his fingers into the night. The lesser fae didn’t dare to distburb him, so they just stood waiting until he turns his attention on them.
Mina at once registered his clothes – made of shining leather, tightly pressed to his supple limbs. His ears were adorned with golden earrings, covering the tips with delicate ornaments and his eyes… She couldn’t take hers off them – they were touched with golden dust, which made his black holes look even deeper.
He looked just as old fairytales were depicting fairies – otherworldly and dangerous, with a gleam of something evading comprehension.
She decided to not meet him in fear, even when her body still felt the last collapse. And Lorian was first with whom she met after that. No one brought her food or water, like they used to before. Whole day without meeting anyone, just macerating in panic which was growing stronger with every breath.
When they separated her from Tiyan, she still remembered his pained eyes, even through her malign state.
What will they do with him?
What will they do with her?
“Sit her down.”
His voice was filled with strange content, the air snapped when the shadows returned to him – like whole night shifted and breathed out the air it held. The lesser fae pushed her on a crimson couch, so soft, that Mina almost drowned in its silky texture and pillows.
“If you ever could taste Ain’asel…” he mused, not even looking at her. The shadows solidified behind him, and now, they looked like enormous black wings, made of smoke and black mist. “It has scent of old, thick woods… tastes like fresh snow… combined, it’s like god’s blood” he laughed silently, like amused by his own words. “But that could be said only by someone, who doesn’t know how godly blood tastes like.”
He turned to her, the shadowed wings dispersed in a second, a mist escaping from the gust of storm wind.
“And you, Mina Markon… you showed me, that your blood is stronger than any other I have seen in this palace” his steps was silent and cat-like. Mina drowned further into the pillows. “What child would still lie, still listened to my orders, seeing her brother bound and hurt? You truly impressed me. How your little heart had to ache, witnessing his state. Yet… you didn’t falter.”
“I made a deal. You promised not to kill us” murmured Mina. Now she could really sense the snow around them. His violets were frozen. Not sweet anymore. F r o z e n.
“You brought something intriguing to my court” continue Lorian, like he didn’t hear her. The tight leather clothes stretched on his body with perfect rhythm with his muscles. His eyes, surrounded with golden dust, were empty in the darkness and Mina couldn’t see if he is angry, joyful or pleased. His tone indicated nothing. All fae were peculiar unsolved riddles. “Boldness of someone who saw only few winters. How such creature can be so courageous, especially if surrounded by dangers. That is impressing.
“What… what happened when me and Tiyan… ?”
“What was bound to happen” Lorian grinned with all shadows; they drifted to Mina and clasped around her hands, swiftly binding them. Mina threw in her seat, but only drowned further in soft couch. “You ate the apple with such joy – a real treat for whole court. You ate it so eagerly, that you tethered yourself to Dal’coler, not only whole realm. Your hunger was also impressive. How such young soul can possess so many promising traits…”
Shadows slid over her arm and tangled with her now untruly locks. Mina didn’t move this time. She petrified, changed into stone statue.
Lorian bent over her, she could see up close the adornments on his ears, which reflected each flicker of light in the chamber. His eyes were so close to hers now, that she for the first time could look deeply in them.
They were reflecting her own face, her own frantic eyes, she saw herself in them.
And then, her reflection started to drown.
Reflection’s hands closed over its throat. And squeezed.
Mina felt that she lost breath. She wanted to stop looking into the void, but his gaze held her captive, unable to move. She made a gurgling sound, when reflection’s nails dug into its neck’s flesh, blood trickling from puncture wounds.
“… but I have better future to paint before you, brave Mina.”
She fell, catching for air, with her back straight into the soft cushions. Her body shiver from the intensity of the vision.
“We have made a deal…” she gasped, still not being able to take a full breath.
“I promised to not kill you. Mina, you clever child” Lorian straightened up. The night brought suddenly from afar the notes of atonal but beautiful music. Dal’coler lived its life, joyful, pleasurable… a dark maze of lies and half-truths.
He won’t be true to his word.
He won’t. But how? Fae can’t break the deal. They can maneuver around it, but somehow, the deal is binding for them, for better and for worse.
“Why you can kill me” her voice was stern and strong. Her stubborn nature rejecting his threats and his lies. She wanted the truth. Even if most horrid.
“You did your part in this game” he shrugged, his smile so perfect, that Mina wanted to throw up. “You showed your brother few things he won’t forget. But… your real purpose is coming now” he laughed. His laughter was sweet, causing her to shivered. “You will help breaking him.”
“Why. can. you. kill. me” she didn’t know from where these words came from. They were sharp, and strong, like not created by her child throat. She wanted to know. She needed to know.
“Because you made a mistake that every mortal before you did. You made me promise not to kill you. I won’t” his shadows coiled around her waist and lifted her suddenly up, making her stand on her toes, just before him.
“Someone else will.”
He turned again to the landscape that spread before the balcony; an endless woods, touched with moonlight, the distant mountains covered with snow. Mina tossed in the clasp of his shadows, her heavy breath laced with panic.
He moved a finger at the lesser fairies.
“Order the kitchens to prepare her. She must be whole. And crisp as the winter morn.”
Mina started to scream, loud, when she realized what that means.
She screamed all the way down.