Chapter 38 Aylah #2
The bleedings intensified. The rest of Laurence’s family partook.
Then came lords and ladies, brought into the secret collective they dubbed the blood-blessed.
They performed the cuttings in the dark, fearful to lose the power they gained.
It changed them further, but as the change came, they realized the rest of the populace would not understand…
unless they, too, became drunk on the blood.
She heard them discuss their plans. Pouring pails of her blood into wells.
Administering little sips to newborn babes.
The population of the Grand Castle and its surrounding Stone’s Refuge swelled, while the outer realms were steadily abandoned.
Kanth became a nation obsessed with crimson life, so that they drank not only of her own radiance-blessed blood but of that of the young, the beautiful, and the foreign.
They even drank of each other, further twisting and corrupting the radiance within them.
What were once blisters on her arm became terrible burns and searing pain to match the carving of their knives. A full kingdom blessed with radiance, and it was her fault, her fault, even when she argued with herself that her consent was denied, her blood taken, her radiance stolen.
When alone, Aylah had wept and pleaded for Calluna to find her, before yet another death stole her for a spell.
She looked to her brothers. Her head hurt and her heart ached beyond measure—telling all this was too much.
She should have known freedom wouldn’t come so easily.
Even knowing the entire castle was slain, she felt their phantoms lingering over her.
In time, she would recount the bizarre, quasi-religious rituals the royal family developed, and the prayers they spoke as their knives opened her veins.
Of how only Laurence and Alise were allowed to put their lips upon her, and drink from the blessed source, for fear of tainting her body and the blood within.
Their favorite was to cut her lip, and with their kiss, feed their gluttony.
“Soon everyone drank,” Aylah said at last. “And it changed them, too. They shared it. First with the castle, then the nearest towns. Then the kingdom.”
“We saw proof of this on our travel here,” Faron said. “Whole villages were vacant. Many assaulted us as fiends, corrupted and vile.”
“Our blood is poison to those born without radiance’s touch,” Sariel said.
He shook his head. “But it is a strange poison, almost akin to an addiction. Those closest to the Grand Castle, who could constantly partake, staved off its effects the longest, enjoyed our stolen blessings even as it changed them within. Those far out weren’t given enough.
Their bodies craved what they had tasted and lost. They devoured animals, then strangers, and then each other… ”
“To feed an entire kingdom,” Faron said, his voice soft and in shock. “Aylah, you poor, poor thing.”
As much as she desired their comfort, she could bear no such pity.
“Enough,” she snapped. “I am your sister, born and blessed equal to you both. I am no broken thing.” She gestured about her. “And you have equal explanations to give, for you appear to march at the forefront of an army. Where are Eder, Calluna, and Eist?”
Sariel stood, his mood darkening. He probably thought he hid it well, but he could never disguise his true thoughts from her.
“Tomorrow,” he said. “Rest tonight, and enjoy the returned comforts of your freedom.”
He exited Rowan’s tent. Faron gave her one last hug and then separated himself as well.
“If you need anything, anything at all, you call for me,” he said, smiling at her. “For at least a few weeks, you can consider me your personal servant.”
“Appreciated but unnecessary,” she said, and forced a return smile. “Now go, so I can sleep, and on padded pillows instead of hanging from chains.”
He winced at the mention of her imprisonment environs.
“Of course,” he said, and left.
Aylah looked to her wrists, and the deep marks left upon them.
Instead of hanging from chains , said so casually, as if what she had endured was a harmless thing to mention.
Her scars would fade. What bones of hers were broken would mend and return to their proper shape.
The strength within her would grow, and her blood, replenish.
Soon no proof would remain upon her body of her torture and imprisonment.
She closed her eyes.
Her body.
Just her body.
She pushed to a stand, endured the dizziness, and then approached the flap opposite where Rowan lurked outside. With shaking hands, she pried it open a crack and then slipped outside.
The night was deep, the stars vibrant above her.
The camp was enormous, and the light of their dwindling campfires a searing pain to her vision.
She turned away from them and focused only on the stars.
They, too, burned, but if she could endure decades of knives, she could endure this blessed heat. This silver scarring.
Tears trickled down her face as she looked upon the glorious expanse of stars. So grand and distant, she felt she could fall into them if she stared long enough. The grandeur was a balm for a mind locked in a small, dark cell.
Laurence was dead.
Alise was dead.
“I’m not there,” she whispered to those distant stars. “Not anymore.”
She dropped the blankets wrapped about herself. Underneath was only a rough shift Rowan had given her upon her arrival at the camp. Even that was too much. She stripped it away. She stood naked once more, but this time of her own choosing.
The light of the stars was gentle upon her skin, blessed and life-giving.
Aylah lifted her left hand to the sky, her trembling fingers lovingly stroking the image of the moon that had given her strength in her suffering.
A cool wind blew across the blisters of her left arm, already beginning to heal in the wake of Kanth’s utter destruction.
“I’m not there,” she insisted, and this time, she felt like she might believe it. The deep scars across her arms, chest, and throat shimmered in the pale light. “I’m free.”
Aylah clenched her fists, finally feeling like her old self. Feeling strong and in control.
And allowing herself to feel, for the very first time, savage, jealous rage at being robbed of her rightful vengeance against King and Queen Silvein. Two murders that were hers. Two murders, stolen by Sariel.
“What joys have you left me, brother?” she asked the night, but the stars held no answer.