The Wraith
A woman knelt on the cold stone floor, head bowed, eyes shut, unmoving save for the subtle rise and fall of her chest. Stars winked in the midnight sky beyond the window of her tiny room, and the sound of waves crashing against the bluffs echoed a chorus against the damp stone walls.
“Now is the time. Send her,” came a voice from beyond the heavily locked door that kept her a prisoner. She focused on it, listening in.
“Perhaps the distance is thinning her abilities. Or else we would have them by now,” Klotho paced the dais with a scowl, moonlight filtering over the Tapestry of Life behind her. “Eliverus seems to have a natural guard in place which is making penetration near impossible – or so she claims.”
In the cell, the woman’s brows creased.
“She is not ready,” said Lakhesis, watching her sister pace with unblinking eyes.
“Of course she is ready! This is exactly what she was made for – a back-up to retrieve what is ours, should any of our students… stray.” Klotho spat the word as if it tasted foul on her tongue. “Her magic is powerful – limited in its execution – but powerful none the less. Time is no longer on our side, sisters.”
Lakhesis continued to look unsure as she glanced at Etropos, who stood and made her way to the Tapestry. “Can we trust she will stay the course? She is still… mildly unhinged – unpredictable even at the best of times.”
“I’m sure she is dying for fresh air, and not the kind laced with salt. Send her, use her – it is what we created her for.”
“Do we know where the Violet Assassin is now?” said Lakhesis, perched upon her seat, taking a dainty bite of a blood red apple as her golden eyes skipped to her sisters.
Beside her, Etropos twirled a dull string from the tapestry around her finger, watching Klotho as she paced up and down the dais, “Perhaps Klotho can enlighten us?” Her voice was light but it held a tinge of bitterness.
Klotho paused, her skirts swishing upon the old marble as she threw her arms wide, “I told you, sister – you are best to remain here with the Tapestry. Besides, my little trip was a failure. Ariiaya is lost to us – a shame really. So many years of training, wasted.”
Etropos lifted her shoulders in a shrug of agreeance as Lakhesis stood and said, “Fine, send her. We haven’t many options left. Sister, seek answers from the gods – see if they have anything to say.” As Lakhesis spoke, Etropos knelt before the Tapestry and traced a finger along the bottom, searching for a wayward thread. After a strange silence, her voice lifted, and it wavered with uncertainty as she said, “Sisters, look.”
Slowly the sisters joined one another as Etropos rose and stepped back, and as one their attention moved down. At the very bottom of the Tapestry of Life, threads were unravelling, the usual shimmering, magical material now had a dull, dark stain blooming from one corner – as if something were seeping through the strands like a curse.
Etropos whispered, “T-The Gods… they are abandoning us.”
“She must go, now,” hissed Klotho, a new sense of urgency entering her voice. “Balance must be restored. We have faltered too long.”
The lips of the woman in the cell widened into a twisted smile.
Nemesis
She was changed. Irrevocably altered, her soul the same yet different.
What Nem had seen when she hovered just beyond the white light of oblivion now flickered at the edges of her memory, just beyond reach and slowly fading. If she was asked to recall it completely now, she feared it would be near impossible. Her memory hinted at the glowing silhouette of a woman; the light behind her so bright that Nem could not distinguish her face. Who she was, Nem had not a clue – but in the hours since her near death experience she had turned over and over in her mind who the mysterious woman could have been.
A sister?
Cousin?
Mother?
Until now, Nem had no true desire to find out about her foggy past, and especially those who had been a part of it. Did she wonder if her parents were alive? Yes, but part of her had lost interest after the first few years of waiting for someone to claim her. If they still lived, surely they would have come looking for her.
Now, having been so close to the end of her life, she felt a small flame of desire to find out about her origins.
A voice dragged her from her reverie and back to the present.
“I almost lost you, you cannot do that again!” His hands were on her biceps, then cupping her cheeks as Krepth’s vivid green eyes skipped along her features, critically analysing every inch of her for further injury. Blood still dotted his cheeks, dried on his thick lashes, and even on the corners of his mouth. Up close she could see a fine layer of facial hair dusting his cheeks, and against her will a thought entered her mind that she much preferred his face clean shaven. With a beard she felt the sharp lines of his cheek bones and the tiny dimple on his chin would be lost.
Dark, thick strands of hair fell over his forehead and into his eyes, and his attention was so fully upon her that he did not brush the obstruction away. So, Nem did it for him, her silver nails brushing his brows as she said, “I’ll take special care not to come close to dying in the future.”
“This is not the time for jokes,” he simmered.
The anger, it was so unlike the spymaster to let it show. He was always so composed, so… cocky and confident. She had wondered whether anything affected him as tough times slid over him like water on a duck’s back. To see him so worked up now had her feeling out of sorts.
Her natural reaction to unfamiliar feelings began to rise in her gut.
Anger.
“Of course, how silly of me – next time I will ask Klotho to kindly not slit my throat!” she growled, slapping his hands away.
“Silver Moon–”
“Did you know?”
Krepth’s eyes blinked rapidly, taken aback. “Of what?”
Nem poked a silver nail into his lean chest, her voice a low hiss as she ground out the words one by one. “Did… you… know?”
“Unlike Arii, I cannot read your mind through a life bond, Nem. I know a lot, but you’re going to have to be more specific.”
She leaned in, her fangs flashing. Her tone was accusatory, “Did you know that Klotho was fraternising with the enemy?”
“That I did not know.” At her angry stare, he added, “You think I would keep such information from you all?”
“Well, it is not the first time you have kept information from us.”
“The hell are you talking about–” He halted, then his lips curled, expression changing from defensive to lupin, “Ah, you speak about my history with Valerie?”
Nem spun on her heel, retreating into the centre of the medical room where they had been ushered by the Princes an hour ago, pulling a cloak tight around her shoulders.
Retreating from his tempting warmth, his tempting scent.
It angered her so much that he dredged these feelings within her.
Her silence told him all that he needed to know.
“It bothers you, my history with the pirate captain? Come now, Silver Moon.”
Seeking desperately to change the subject, she whispered, “Why do you call me that?”
“Is it not obvious? Your hair, it reminds me of moonlight.” His bloodstained fingers hovered withing touching distance of her straight, silky bob – hovering but not touching.
“How fitting – the moon… Something you can see yet never touch.”
He was close now, their bodies so close that she felt the heat of him through the thick cloak she wore. He smelled of the forest, deep and complex – with a tiny hint of something feral that was his animal side. She hated it… she longed for it… She couldn’t stand it, and worst of all she wanted it.
When it came to Krepth, she sympathised with Arii’s plight when it came to Lorch and Elijah. He dredged up feelings wholly unfamiliar, in turn bringing with them fear. Anger became her automatic reaction to that fear.
It had been this way for many years.
Yet he still chased her, despite her cold disposition towards him. Their friendship was a peculiar dance built on tolerance and simmering, resentful attraction.
Nem turned to face him, crossing her arms as Krepth spoke.
“Perhaps – like the moon – it is instinct that keeps drawing me back to you. Wolves worship the moon, we sing to it, we long for it yet it is always just out of reach.” His fingers grazed her chin, and she did not look away as his deep eyes lifted to hers, their depths swirling. “All I wish to do is worship you, Nem.”
Gods, she shivered at the touch, and was not at all surprised by the heat that the motion stoked within her.
Never had she allowed anyone close enough to worship her.
For she had never been touched that way.
Never.
No one knew about her virginity, not even Arii. She had never disclosed such personal information, never feeling the need to. Sure, she played along when jokes were said, but never had she lain with anyone – never allowed someone close enough.
Perhaps it was self-preservation, perhaps it was inexperience.
It was though, very much to do with fear.
Fear of the unknown, fear of giving up control and allowing someone to see her vulnerability. Fear of trusting someone enough to grow close, only to have that trust broken and the good feelings stripped away like the memories of her past.
She believed in her heart that if she were to allow someone to see her that way, they would have to earn it. Earn her vulnerability. Earn her love. Earn her trust.
And keep it beyond that one night.
She wanted to love the person she was to lay with. A strange and perhaps outdated point of view, she would admit. But one she would forever stick by. She was also aware that she was not meant to have such thoughts, and thus kept them pressed deep down. Krepth had never hurt her, never stepped over the line she drew – although he danced incredibly close, as far as she let him. But never had he hurt her.
Actually, he would perhaps be a good match for her, bringing a spark of light to her dull life. His cocky grin and sultry confidence had her heating inside.
Her fear was that he may not feel for her as she could feel for him. Would he flutter off to the next beautiful face once he had what he wanted from her?
She knew it was rough to be angry at him for what he did with others behind closed doors. They weren’t together.
She had made sure of that.
Perhaps that was her true fear, to be forgotten.
Just like her memories.
So, she kept her face impassive – her emotions hidden deep as she pressed her palm to Krepth’s solid chest, the word an emotionless breath upon her pale lips as she whispered, “Never.”
“You may say I do not affect you, Silver Moon, but your body – your scent – tells me otherwise.”
“Are we really going to debate what constitutes consent right now, dog? Or shall I save you the overwhelming strain on your brain and make it clear by delivering my knee to your balls?”
“Come now–”
“I’ll repeat it again for you… never.” She drew out the word, letting her fear fuelled-frustration get the best of her.
Krepth’s face turned sad, but he allowed her to press him back as his arms dropped to his sides. “You can trust me.”
No, she could not. She could not trust anyone.
“I won’t hurt you.” He tried again, and she read the sincerity in his eyes.
Could he see something on her face that hinted at her fear?
No, surely not.
“Why do you persist. Why? Why do you…” She swallowed, hard. Her anger began to simmer as she said, “Why do you want me, Krepth?”
Sensing the darkening tilt of the conversation, Krepth cleared his throat, mustering his usual slow smirk as he said, “I suppose I’m a dog just wanting that sweet, juicy bone that I am not allowed to have? The thrill of the chase maybe.”
“Hmph… you’re too stubborn for your own good.”
“Stubborn is my middle name.” He grinned, before the grin faded and his expression was serious once more. “We have known each other for a long time, Nem, and I think I have made my feelings for you abundantly clear. I understand it though – your hesitation.” As her lips parted to speak, he continued, “And so I will wait. As long as you need.”
“You might be waiting a long time.”
“I am not mortal, thus all I have is time.”
Nem sighed, running her fingers along the healing scar upon her throat with absentminded fingers. “So stubborn.” Despite herself, her lips twitched with a small smile.
He took those fingers in his own, kissing the tips, eyes smoky like a forest at dusk. “Perhaps, but I am also annoyingly patient,” he whispered, letting her hand fall.
Nem felt his absence through the coolness on her fingers as he padded from the room, leaving her tugging the cloak around her shoulders and steeling her façade of stone as she swiftly dressed, and darted in the direction of Arii’s quarters.
As Nem sauntered into Arii’s rooms a few minutes later, she felt the tremble upon the bond that she knew was a result of frustration, and watched Arii paced the room with Lorch’s golden thread dangling from her clenched fist. Emotion pulsed from her best friend in waves, tremulous and wild. Nem knew that Arii’s emotions were a wild thing – life bond aside. The woman wore her feelings like a beacon now.
Years of training, years of being moulded by orders of how to think and how to feel – shattered in just a few months.
“It has not entered my thoughts since we were in Viridya, but now that the thread is back, I cannot help but think who it truly belongs to,” Nem said, breaking the tense silence as she perched on the end of the bed piled high with furs and blankets. “I agree, after everything that’s happened, it could not belong to Lorch. It could be Valdis, but the sisters did hint that what they saw was all pointing towards someone of the highest order – a throne and a king, correct?”
Arii worried her bottom lip, before chewing on her nails. Around her fingers she said, “We don’t know what could be happening in the castle as we speak, Nem. Lorch didn’t seem at all the type to be tempted by what Valdis offers, but he could well be earning that thread right now.”
“You know as well as I do that the thread is only pulled when its owner carries out or decides a deed worthy of judgement from the Gods. Unless you believe Lorch has done something worthy of their ire–”
“No… No, I don’t believe he has…”
Nem rubbed at her throat absentmindedly, the place where Klotho’s blade had opened her throat. Arii had once questioned the sisters’ motives back in the castle, just before they had discovered the reanimated corpse of Ingrid Polaris. Nem had thought her mad back then, blinded by a growing attraction for the young King. Now though, after their run in with the dark-haired sister, Nem now thought it plausible that the sisters perhaps had ulterior motives. They knew now that Klotho was corrupt – but what of the others? And what did they wish to gain? Power? Magic? Perhaps both…
“Maybe whoever it belongs to is being protected by the sisters? Perhaps they led you astray in your mission?” said Nem.
“It’s beginning to seem more and more likely.”
Nem felt the subtle shift in the air before Arii whispered, “Could the Tapestry also exist to keep or restore balance? Not just to punish those who deserve it when they have done something wrong.”
The silver-haired Fury tilted her head. “Perhaps? I guess in a way that is what we have been doing all along – eliminating those who contribute to the tilt of the land leaning towards one side of the battle between light and dark.”
Arii paused a moment, staring down at the dark wood floorboards with a look that Nem did not see her wear often.
Uncertainty.
Usually, her friend wore a careful mask of confidence that made her seem like she knew everything – even when she was unsure. Now though, her face was like an open book, emotions so clear that Nem did not even need to tap into their shared bond to read.
Purple eyes lifted as Arii sighed, and spoke her mind, “I couldn’t see the end to his power. Elijah, I mean. When he lent his magic to me to save you. Is that even possible? For one person to have seemingly limitless power with no bottom to the pool they draw upon?”
Pinching her chin in thought, Nem answered, “When his magic awoke and the iron severed his connection, it’s possible his awakening was interrupted and in that moment the balance of power was thrown out. That bottom of the pool that shows us our limit was obviously smashed away during his trauma.”
“He shouldn’t be able to have such magic?”
“All magic has a limit, Arii. Or it should have a limit. Elijah’s kind of magic is raw and untamed. With so much power, madness will surely follow. That part of history could indeed be true.”
“You mean the male Fae who were said to have gone mad from magic? You think it’s true?”
“Have you seen any signs of it in Elijah so far? Madness, I mean?”
“No… No, I haven’t.” Arii lifted a finger to her mouth once more as Nem narrowed her eyes, following the nail of her index finger as it inched between her teeth.
“I know you have strong feelings for him.”
Arii twisted on her heel, stalking to the window and speaking around a clenched jaw, “It’s… complicated.”
A snort, “Nothing complicated about it, Arii. You like him, and he sure as hell likes you.”
“Can’t see why.”
“You need to stop discrediting yourself!” Arii blinked, obviously taken aback at her friend’s uncharacteristic outburst as Nem barrelled on, “You’re beautiful, resilient, talented with a blade and incredibly loyal to those you care about. Not to mention you risked your life to save him, and I think you challenge him in ways no other female ever has. Yes, I’ll admit you are a loose cannon with your temper, and you get awfully stabby when you’re irritated.”
“Stabby?”
“Stabby,” Nem repeated, to which Arii shrugged in agreeance. “But, as an outsider looking in I can see there is something undeniable between you two. You make each other… happy, when you’re not butting heads of course.”
Arii, for the first time in Nem’s memory, looked almost abashed as she rubbed at the nape of her neck. “Thank you, Nem – truly.”
Nem offered a small smile, watching the woman tilt her head back with a long, pained sigh. “I’ll admit, I’m drawn to him. Not just by attraction, but I mean on a deeper level, almost like my soul calls to his. It has been so ever since we first met. Argh…” She plopped beside Nem, bunching her fists in the downy covers.
Nem tilted her head, surveying her friend’s face. “Have you considered that he could be your–”
“No…”
“Mate. It’s possible, Arii.”
“Possible, but I don’t want to think about that right now.”
Nem’s brows rose, “And why not?”
“Do I really need to elaborate? He is going to be a King, and I’m…” a wave of a hand over her general area, “…me.”
“You don’t think you’re good enough for a King?” Nem pursed her lips.
“Exactly.”
“You aren’t who would normally be picked to help rule the land – but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t. Queen Ariiaya has a nice ring to it!” She barked a laugh as Arii punched her in the arm, uttering a curse that Nem noted was very un-queenly like.
Arii sobered quickly to say, “All of these feelings – they’re causing me more pain than pleasure.”
“How so?”
Arii lifted the shimmering thread between them, pinching the dangling end and pulling the string taut. A faint gold glow reflected in her eyes as she whispered, “Elijah’s magic is immense, unfairly so if you think about it. Power like that really shouldn’t be limited to one person. All of these feelings will ultimately lead to pain, because as you said – the tapestry was created for an ultimate purpose…”
“To restore balance. You’re saying the thread...”
Pain was plain on Arii’s face as she whispered, “It could belong to Elijah.”
Ariiaya
Soon after their talk, Arii tucked the thread into her bags as Nem left to check in with the others. A gentle knock sounded at her door, and Elijah entered her rooms – still dressed in his blood caked clothing. After her discussions with Nem, Arii had found it hard to make eye contact at first, but soon she felt the ice melt away as she watched Elijah recount what he had witnessed at the cemetery while she herself had been occupied.
What the two assassins suspected of the golden thread though, they would keep to themselves for now.
“What Klotho unleased upon us in the cemetery was but a fraction of the force Valdis has amassed. We need to get to the west, and obtain Kadec’s support, quickly. Then we need to get back to Evergrave and plan what comes next.” Arii knew she was voicing the obvious, but after the battle they had just faced, she felt dread settling heavy in her bones.
They were quickly running out of time.
Thankfully, none of them had received life-threatening wounds – save for Nem’s near death, and for that Arii was incredibly grateful. She had also noticed that the dark, nipping presence of the wraith in her mind seemed to have fled since solidifying her life bond with Nem. Stubbornly, she thought it best to keep the woman’s presence a secret from the others. They didn’t need anything else to worry about.
Arii had tried her best not to watch as Elijah stripped swiftly out of his blood-soaked clothing, but she had failed miserably. He had sustained a few scrapes from jagged fingernails, and a bruise on his thigh – but the remainder of him was thankfully unmarred save for his existing scars. Her eyes coasted over his broad shoulders, admiring the glimmering tattoo bestowed upon his bicep.
“What do you think the Prince of the west will want from me?” asked Elijah, pulling on a clean, crème coloured cotton tunic.
As he turned to her, she forced her gaze to meet his.
“Kadec may be dubbed the party boy Prince, but he is fiercely intelligent. He enjoys playing games – and I don’t mean the kind with statues and a chequerboard.” She pulled her belt tight and slid her daggers into their scabbards as she continued, “His games are of the mind.”
“Of the… mind?” echoed Elijah.
“Kadec’s power comes from his charisma and his knack for persuasion. He did not become a Prince by just sitting on his arse, like some.” She paused, wincing at her own words.
“He did not ascend the throne by birthright?”
“Oh, he did, but far sooner than what would be deemed ‘normal’ by royal standards. Kadec talked his father and his advisers into allowing him to ascend early – when he was nine.”
Elijah’s brows rose almost to his hairline. “You’re kidding.”
“No. His father happily agreed – and to this day serves as his main advisor.”
“That is impressive.”
She grinned, “Absolutely.”
Elijah tightened his sword belt. “You think his challenge will involve mind games?”
“You’ll need to prove yourself to him in some form or another. What he will put you through is anyone’s guess. I don’t think you’ll be able to get out of it using steel or your fists like last time.”
“Fantastic…”
Arii patted her hand against his bicep. “Whatever he throws at you, you’ll pull through. Unless it’s a glittering ball where you need to scrub up and dance the tango.”
His lips quirked in a lopsided smile, “It takes two to tango, and I know who I’d choose as my partner.”
“Then we will both surely fail.”
With a shared smile, they headed to meet with the others.
It was time to head north through The Wastes.