6. Regent
REGENT
Beautiful. As are all things in fine silken materials.
The leaves in the Boey Jungle rattle, the whispers of the elements giggling alongside the Fates who have brought me here.
Perhaps this is another one of their games, I contemplate as I graze my thumb along her delicate jawline.
A weak little earth greer, who doesn’t even know how to use her power, yet is wise enough to see through my mask.
The leaves rattle again, as if imploring me to cut her down. But why should I listen to the Fates? I loathe them as much as I do Neina.
I angle her head again to get a proper look at her.
Thick eyelashes with tears clinging to her cheeks.
Definitely cursed, and whoever cursed her certainly left a nasty mark.
I look at all the cuts and blood on the woman.
Her feet are filthy from running barefoot in the night, her hair sodden from what looks like drowning in the ocean.
I inhale, embracing her scent. She smells born of the sea. I sense magic flaring out close by, and my eyebrows draw together as I try to trace where it’s coming from. My finger trails down her chin and along her throat.
Suddenly, a shadow jumps out, and I catch it midair, squeezing it as a little beast materializes and thrashes in my hand. When I get a good look at the unsightly thing, my lips immediately turn down. “What on Felia are you?”
The beast snaps its toothless mouth at me. Circular orange eyes glare into mine as it attempts to wriggle free. One of my other nets goes off, and a man screams in the distance. We both look in its direction. “Looks like you brought friends.” I arch an eyebrow and return my gaze to the beast.
It speaks in a language I can’t understand.
Peculiar, considering I’m familiar with the language of most beasts born from this land.
I look past it and back at the greer, my curiosity growing from the elements that beckoned me.
I could just as easily walk away. Stay out of the trouble this woman has clearly brought upon herself.
The leaves whisper again: ten men come this way.
I growl impatiently at their insistence. I don’t like greers, let alone having to touch one. “At the very least, I might be able to sell you,” I threaten the little beast, whose eyes grow wide, as if offended.
I release my earth magic to the ground, my feet planting on the moist soil as I usher the vine and net to loosen and drop around her with ease. She falls into my arms, her body shaking so severely I realize she’s starting to convulse.
The hollow in my throat bobs as I pull her in closer, at most trying my best to prevent her from hurting herself.
The little beast scampers up my leather coat, gripping it so he hovers close to her chest. I can’t see any markings, but judging by how closely he clings to her, they’re most likely bound by contract.
That makes me hate her even more.
“There’s someone over there!” a man screams as I continue walking with her in my arms. I twist the clay mask onto my face, covering my identity as two soldiers wearing red step into my path.
“Stop!” One of them pulls out his sword, but I continue moving.
“By order of Dahlia Seranto, you are obliged to hand over that woman and—” He topples over sideways as the rock I summon barrels into the side of his face.
The other soldier immediately draws his sword, and I sense another eight men surrounding me. Two arrows are shot from the distance, and as easily as breathing, I erect a solid mud wall as a shield.
Really? All for this little girl?
I call to the earth around me, using rocks as weapons, vines as chains, and mudslides as traps, until the only one freely moving is the man in front of me.
He trembles where he stands. I tower over him at six-foot-seven, his mouth and eyes wide as he stares into my hideous exterior. He pisses himself where he stands.
“This now belongs to me.” I gesture to the woman and continue walking as the little beast speaks gibberish and looks like he flips him off over my shoulder.
Red beady eyes catch my attention, a valther hunched over a branch watching before it flocks to the sky. Interesting. Considering they’re not native to these parts.
The woman rattles in my arms, her veins humming with old magic. I can sense it leaking out of her like a rabid creature.
“This better not be more trouble than it’s worth,” I grumble in complaint.
The jungle glows with vibrant colors, plants that coax in their prey. The beasts who trail alongside me know better than to attack but are always curious if an opportunity might appear. Those soldiers won’t last any longer than a night in this jungle, which is why I don’t care to finish them off.
Human blood is the worst to stain my hands with.
White streaks the edge of my peripheral vision as I summon my mare. She does not come obediently, only watching from the shadows. I look back down at the woman with magic oozing out of her and eating her from the inside out. I don’t blame my mare for having better judgment.
I make my way into the center of the Boey Jungle, the secret and sanctuary of Lake Mahoori, illuminating brightly and humming with life and magic at its core. Our continent is corrupt, but this remains mostly untouched, simply by the fact that nobody sane can find it.
“I suggest you stay on the land for this,” I advise the little beast who can most likely feel the rippling magic blast of waves, the insanity and darkness from the water.
He says something that doesn’t at all seem polite before disappearing into a shadow and sinking into its master.
I wait to see the blue hue of a marking activated, but there’s nothing.
Who would go to such lengths to glamorize a beast binding?
It’s not easily done. But I’ll give the beast credit for loyalty amid stupidity.
But that has little to do with the mere minutes she has left. I look down at the woman, her red hair knotted, her veins starting to turn into foreboding black ink as her skin pales. Whatever this curse is, it’s left her body too broken to heal itself, her magic rampant.
The Fates are not done with you. The Fates whisper from the lake, and I grind my teeth, pushing away their voices among the leaves that giggle, curious by my new find.
No matter how much I try to block them out, they’re always insistent.
“Let’s see, then, little Denva, if the Fates are really on your side. Or if you’ll drown in madness,” I say as I step one leather boot into the lake and then the next. The water clings to me, like little teeth gnawing at my flesh as it eats away at my magic.
It takes as much as it wants until it feels satisfied. I cannot say the same for her. It may want to take all of her, or bring her back not right in the mind. I sink in waist-deep and look across the lake, where the shadow of a man who appears to be in his mid-fifties watches me closely.
He wears the colors of blue and silver, a wolf emblem on his cloak. He speaks, but here there is no sound. He then looks down at the woman adoringly, like a father might. Perhaps a final prayer to watch over her.
It’s a shame for the old man that she has ended up in the hands of someone like me. I shove her beneath the water, and the moment she submerges, dark magic begins to seep out of her, and her eyes and mouth open as she screams.
I hold her down as she thrashes and claws at my arms. I doubt even the strongest of greers can fight such a volatile curse. I beckon the lake to take only what it needs, freeing her from whatever curse has deeply embedded itself in her.
Illuminating blue strands wrap around me, like vines budding as their thorns dig in, blood oozing from my arms, and I watch as the lake continues to take and take. Not only from her, but also from me.
“This seems a high price to pay,” I mutter, second-guessing myself for taking her. I should’ve left her in the Boey Jungle.
My blood glimmers on the surface above her face, the whites of her eyes shining through as they roll into the back of her head, black miasma still spreads from her. It dawns on me then that being attached to this woman might be reckless because the lake is not done with bleeding her dry.
How can one woman have so much darkness within her? Especially for such a weak earth greer.
Vines spread above the surface, and then, as her struggle lessens, pink flowers bloom on pads. Something from deep within the water tries to yank her from my grip, but without thought, I tighten my grip.
“Over my fucking dead body,” I grate out, cursing as I fight the lake that tries to claim her. It wants all of her, but I’ll be fucked if I give up this much blood for nothing. I tug her from the water, her dress long since gone when it was pulled to the bottom of the lake.
The flowers in bloom are vibrant, casting a bright pink hue to dust over her pale face.
I pull her to my chest, and one of her arms falls limp at her side.
Water still trails down to her fingertips as the darkness continues to leak from her.
Despite all odds, she takes a deep breath, coming to life in my arms.
I remain standing, my arms bloodied as I allow the lake to take more of that tarnished magic from her as I study her face and pained expression.
Such delicate features. Thick eyelashes that frame those fierce green eyes she viciously stared at me with through the net, her long red hair matted.
The black veins beneath her skin start to fade, a small pink returning to her cheeks.
The vines that hold me in place retract, those little claws reluctantly releasing.
Then she begins to shiver, and I’m reminded how difficult it is for one to survive the harsh elements and terrain of the Boey Jungle, especially after being completely depleted of their magic.