Chapter 29
A Peek Into The Shadows
The old Queen of Duvessa, the offspring of Death and Darkness.
The most formidable fae of Terran. An image of both Riaan and Nocturna.
The afterlife and darkness incarnate. A goddess to have walked Terran and ruled over the Kingdom of Duvessa.
And from her, her own family of darklings were created.
One son. A grandson. And a grand-daughter —the living image of the Old Queen.
The powers of the young heirs are unknown and are yet to be discovered.
The following Korovian text has been transcribed in an oath of truth by Volda Keely Darkblood of the Darkblood witch Coven.
For a while, none of us spoke.
The prince became less tense in my arms. His body going from rigid to relaxed.
His eyes closing, his breathing had slowed down and now succumbed to sleep.
I placed him down gently. My jaw clenched, my fist tightening around the hilt of the fire blade.
The necromancer continued silently mixing thick bright liquids and making concoctions of sorts.
His wives still smiled in their trance-like states.
Just standing behind their master. The necromancer smeared what looked like blood onto the table, making that similar pentagram shape that I had seen in his cellar.
"Virgin blood. It makes extracting your Apollon Prince's powers much easier," he spoke in concentration while drawing unholy patterns.
I kept silent. Watching him. Analysing where would be the best place to strike.
"You can either become my bride. Or die.
Either will be much better than being in the company of Apollons.
" I controlled my breathing. I couldn't let too much blood flow to my heart. I needed to remain calm—and think.
How on Terran do I kill a necromancer?
I was already speaking before I thought it through. "These women,” I looked at them all, “are all from the village?" I took a few steps back, away from the prince. If Inanov could see me now, he would shout at me.
"Yes. All of them. All my rewards for granting them the gift of life." He smiled deliriously as he bit into his wrist and smeared his blood onto the table.
"Yes, keep him talking. He loves to hear himself talk," a darker, much colder voice inside me spoke.
"The plague… You caused it, didn't you?" It had made sense.
It was slowly coming together. How the girls got sick.
How they had all either died or fallen gravely ill.
The necromancer leaned against the wall stopping his tasks, his black blood dripping from his wrist. My eyes immediately spotted the lantern above him mounted to the wall.
Filled up with oil to keep the fire alight.
A plan—perhaps a futile one—formed in my head.
A distraction is all I needed.
"The sickness of the land. Yes, I created that.
A very difficult magic of sorts that only targets the young women.
All the rain? The lightning? It was my magic, the lightning that restored them back to life.
A life for a life. I had no use of the guards within my walls.
I killed them and in exchange bought the lives of my beautiful wives.
" He smiled fondly at the memory of his sins.
"Even though I was the cause of their deaths, their families could not bear to witness them dead.
So they gave them to me as wives. To live a luxurious life and of course, with being regularly fucked.
Better them safe and fucked than dead. A strange thing, love is.
Some were strong enough to let their daughters die instead of bringing them to me.
" The necromancer scoffed. "What a waste.
Love is weakness and failure. Hope, however, is manipulation.
To give them that hope, that their daughter will live even if they never see them again.
Well, that's what aided me." I grit my teeth, my heart ached for the girls and their families.
How he had toyed with the hearts of innocents, how he had raped the women.
Just to satisfy his lust and to commit sins for his own selfishness. How vile this... thing was.
"You don't have magic." I spat and threw my blade across, it hit its mark. Right into the lantern- the oil now slowly dripped onto him and onto the floor. The necromancer laughed hysterically, his body moving up and down in deep laughter.
"You will honestly have to do better than that if you plan to kill me.
Much better actually to remotely hurt me.
" He grinned. It was my turn to smile. I commanded the fire in my blade to come alight.
All the oil that had splattered now caught onto fire and exploded.
I willed the fire to become larger. The necromancer's eyes widened, jumping back and hissed inhumanely.
His cheek charred and burnt, yet slowly healing.
He was no normal necromancer... This was an undead scorned being.
"What have you done to the actual Lord of Litara?" I shouted and swiped the two blades from my thighs. I wielded the fire onto them immediately.
"Burn it all down," the blades called out to me. Singing in my veins.
No.
I looked around. There were innocent people here. I subdued the fire around the necromancer by only a bit, to not hurt the rest in the room.
"Interesting. You command the ancient blades of Cinaed.
You are not of fae blood, so you must contain some sort of magic within you.
" A greedy look passed through the necromancer's face, the face that was now slowly healing the scorched skin on his face.
Disappointment weighed on me. It is impossible to kill.
"Not for us," the shadows inside me answered.
"You are going to pay," I promised as I clashed my twin blades together and stalked toward him. I was not going to let him hurt anyone or these women anymore. Over my damned dead body.
"There is no need to marry you when your power can be used to fuel me. Pity... you are a beauty." The necromancer shrugged and with a flex on his wrist. His wives were no longer smiling. They all looked at me, their eyes only saying one thing.
Kill.
They charged.
"It's going to be hard to kill innocents. Isn't it? Give up now and I will make your death easy," he spoke, walking over to the prince. Gripping his jaw and throwing his face to the side.
"No!" I shouted, panic overwhelming me as I saw him take out a curved dagger and hold it over the prince's heart.
I tried my best to deflect the girls, shoving them back, their nails clawing against my face and all the skin exposed from my dress.
The blood from my scratches dripped onto the white dress.
He was right—I wouldn't be able to kill these innocents.
My heart wouldn't let me. Anger and panic overwhelmed my senses.
"You coward!" I mocked him. "Fight me if you are so mighty.
If you defeat me, then I am yours to do as you wish.
" The necromancer paused his blade that was nearly sunken into the prince.
"Unless you are unable to defeat a small girl like me.
" I picked at his pride some more. His wives stopped their assault on me and stepped away.
"Now, how did you suspect that I liked challenges?" the necromancer playfully asked, pulling his blade out of the prince, and stepping into my direction.
“Interesting, so do I.” I twirled the blade in my hand.
He was rot. He was decay. Yet he was not death.
No, he manipulated it. Changed the laws of nature and went against the sacred law.
He had taken over the lord's body and did unspeakable things to innocent people.
He stalked toward me. I moved in a circle around him, waiting for his first strike.
He had stolen magic on him and with a push of his hand forward.
The force of his magic pushed me hard onto my back.
The air was knocked out of me, and one of my two fire blades were knocked out of my hand.
I scrambled to sit up but was forced onto my back.
The necromancer watched me struggle to get up with glee.
"This was going to be much easier than I thought.
" Anger filled me. The anger I had felt for this abomination to Terran.
The anger I had felt for him manipulating these people's hope.
Using their love as weakness. Hope filled me.
The hope that these innocents must have felt for their sisters, their daughters—even their wives.
Love filled me. The love I had for Red. For his sister, Kya, for my family at the arena. Rhey...
Ezra... Fala.
I looked to the prince at last... still unconscious.
With difficulty. I held my fist down on the stone floor, using it to push myself up.
I breathed in harshly and let out a suffered groan, moving myself up to my knees.
Chest heaving as I looked into the necromancer's eyes with hate.
He seemed startled at first and then let out a bitter laugh.