Ashes of Revenge

Colt and Raven walked down the worn wooden floor in the tunnels. For a minute or so, the creaking of the floorboards was the only noise between them.

“So, what are these used for, exactly?” Colt asked as he looked around, the only light being that of a small lone window, showcasing the small dust particles drifting through the air.

“They are used to escort tha Royal family to safety. But it’s mainly used for storage.”

“How many people know about this?”

Raven shrugged. “Royal family? Fernando?”

They took a right at a split apart section.

“What exactly did yeh do in here when yeh were a kid?”

“Nothin’.” Raven shrugged. “I think I would just walk, maybe look at stuff they would put in here.”

They ascended a small flight of rickety stairs. Turning down another hallway, they were met with a weathered wooden door. Raven grabbed the handle and tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. Stepping back, she kicked at the door, making it jolt back an inch or two, but the structure held. Before she could set up again, Colt’s boot collided with the door, and it flew open.

“Show off,” Raven mumbled as she walked into the room that was filled with old paintings, rugs, books, and other random artifacts.

Colt followed her and looked around, trying to see if anything was of value.

Raven reached down and picked up an old, reddish sunstone colored book - her body numbing. Taking her burned hand and wiping off the dust, she read the golden title: THE BLUE FLOWER. Her finger traced the letters before she opened it to a random page.

Colt looked up from his random pile of things and over to Raven. She glanced at him and quickly tossed the book into the clutter.

She rummaged through the artifacts again, trying to sidetrack herself. Pulling back a giant painting of a Knight, she froze for a second at the picture that was behind it.

“Is it ok if I take this?” Colt held up an emerald necklace with diamonds around it.

Raven glanced away from the painting and up to him, recognizing it as one of her mum’s. “Yeah, knock yerself out. Take whatever yeh want, an’ yeh can sell ’em. I don’t care.” She didn’t need any more reminders of her mum. She didn’t want any more.

Colt tucked the necklace into his waistband before he unstrapped the latches on his red over-shirt. He glanced over at Raven, who was still staring at the canvas.

Sensing his gaze, she shoved the first painting onto the ground. A thin cloud of dust arose and lingered in the air before it eventually settled.

They stared at the picture: Raven’s old family. She focused on her mum’s features, wondering if they were real. Colt was seeing her mum for the first time, and he couldn’t believe the two of them were related. They looked nothing alike. Raven’s mum had beautifully light chestnut hair and deep river blue eyes that somehow looked intense and yet loving. The face accompanied her features wonderfully, being a perfect shape for her hair and allowing her cheekbones to stand out.

It became evident to him that Raven had taken her dad’s looks: mahogany brown hair and eyes with a stern set face. However, he was taken aback by the broad, light smile that rested on Raven’s face along with the lack of burn marks. She rarely smiled, and the fact that no scars covered her skin was weird for both of them.

Raven had almost forgotten what she looked like without the extensive scarring. Her perfect, tan skin mocked her, and every burn on her body began to itch.

Colt glanced at Raven and then the picture and then back to her. He quickly concluded he liked Raven better the way she looked now. Elizabeth's features were too perfect, making her not even look real. His lips parted to tell her, but he changed his mind. He had already told her his thoughts on how she looked, and it had ended in a massive fight.

“She’s pretty,” Colt said as he looked away from her face.

“She was pretty,” Raven remarked. “Is it bad I almost forgot what she looked like?” she asked in a soft tone.

“I don’t think so.” Raven turned and looked at him. Colt knew she wanted, no needed, a reason. “It’s been years, Raven. Yeh can’t expect to be able to remember things-”

“She’s my mum, though. Shouldn’t I be able to remember?!” Raven’s breathing turned burdensome, and her body faintly shook. “Shouldn’t I-” She stopped when Colt embraced her in a loose, soft hug.

They both stood there, frozen. Raven tensed at his touch, but he wouldn’t let go this time. Neither hugged often, and Colt and Raven honestly didn’t know if they were doing it correctly. All they did know was that it felt odd and awkward . . . but nice.

“Don’t beat yerself up, please,” Colt mumbled against her hair. Raven’s face subconsciously pressed into his chest. “I don’t know what either of my parents look like,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Raven slowly pushed herself away from him, guilt washing over her. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he said with a pathetic execution of a smile.

“It’s not.” She cursed. “I’m an idiot.” She began to pace, but before she could start her cycle, he grabbed her arm and pulled her close to him once more.

“Yer an idiot, but it’s honestly fine.” He airily laughed. “I can’t miss somethin’ I never had. They abandoned me an’ left me for dead anyway so . . . I don’t really like ’em.” This time his smile didn’t falter as he shrugged.

She tensely allowed herself to nudge her body against his, feeling like his lean frame was protecting her. Raven’s shaking hand traced the square scars on his forearm, remembering how he had received them. Other Shifters caused them; other Shifters who were forced into the same unforgiving fate Colt had been forced into since he was a small child. His scars almost reminded Raven of her’s. They had both received them through people at one point they had trusted, looked up to even.

“Raven?” Colt mumbled, dragging Raven away from her thoughts. His grip faintly loosened around her, watching as her hand traced his scars.

Raven’s fingers left. Colt cleared his throat and laughed a bit. “Raven, honestly, it’s fine, so yeh can stop havin’ yer little meltdown.”

Raven looked up at him. “I’m not havin’ a meltdown.”

They were both eager to change the subject, and if that meant subjecting Raven to having a meltdown, then they were happy to oblige.

Colt squinted his eyes and tilted his head to the side. “Yeh are.”

“I’m not . . . it was just a little sadness an’ anger.”

“That sounds like a meltdown.”

“Yeh know what.” Raven walked out of his grasp and held up the necklace that Colt had taken. “I’m takin’ this back.”

Colt’s hands searched his waistband and found the necklace wasn’t there. Raven smirked.

“Ok, give it back.” He outstretched his hand.

“Nah, I don’t think I will.”

“I’m gonna kill yeh.”

“Yeh can try, but yeh won’t.”

“Look, oll it would take is a simple stab right here.” Colt placed his finger over Raven’s throat.

Raven playfully smiled. “Nah, yeh wouldn’t get that far. I would stab yeh right” - her hand poked Colt’s stomach - “there.”

Colt quickly grabbed her wrist and twisted it, pulling her into his chest and placing his pointer finger against her throat. His mouth formed into a devilish smirk.

Raven moved in a twisting sort of motion and freed herself from Colt’s grasp, now clutching his wrist and bending it upside down. They were both smirking now, and Raven wondered why he was.

With his free hand, he held up the necklace.

Raven’s face fell. Releasing Colt’s wrist, she grabbed the painting from the floor and put it back in front of the other one. She pulled out a jewelry box and opened it, Colt’s face fell, and his mouth fell slightly open. The entire box was filled to the brim with necklaces, rings, earrings, and other riches.

“Yeh can keep tha necklace,” Raven perkily said.

“I want that now,” Colt responded immediately.

“Too bad.”

“How bout we split it?”

“I don’t think so . . . I just stopped havin’ a meltdown.”

Colt reached for the box, and Raven stepped back with perfect timing. She smiled and batted her eyelashes.

“I’m gonna get that box,” Colt said with sheer determination lacing his voice.

“Yeh can certainly try, but yeh won’t.”

“We shall see.”

“Indeed, we shall,” Raven said as the conversation left them.

For a second or two, time seemed to stop as they stared at each other.

Colt briefly glanced at Raven’s lips.

Her eyes darted to his two different colored ones. Slowly, her eyes trailed down to his lips. His right hand reached up to cup her face.

Please. . . , he begged, not knowing if he wanted her to shove him away or allow him to hold her.

Please. . . , she begged, but whether it was for him to touch and hold her or for him to stop, she didn’t know. Had he always been this tall?

His fingertips brushed against the burned side of her face. Suddenly, she was aware of how much scarring was there. Heat rose against the injured skin, and all she wanted to do was make Colt stop looking at the burns. She didn’t want anyone, especially him, touching her.

Raven quickly maneuvered around Colt and walked out of the room with him following her. Neither knew if they were relieved or disappointed. But, both acted like nothing had happened.

Nothing had happened!

Their minds shifted to something else; anything else - Richard. They both knew Richard was most likely back from his little endeavor, and now the news he had to tell them filled their minds.

When they walked out of the bookshelf, they saw Richard sitting in a chair, reading a book. “Did yeh guys have fun?” he asked as he licked his fingers and turned the page, not even sparing them a glance.

“I guess,” Raven said.

Richard looked up from the book and saw their new possessions. “Please tell me-”

“Raven said I could take ’em,” Colt interrupted.

Richard went back to reading. “Raven, is this true?”

“Yeah, I don’t care.”

“Ok,” Richard mumbled. He closed the novel.

“How’d tha message go?” Raven asked.

“Well enough. I gave tha Messenger tha note an’ he’s on his way to tha Farian Kingdom. By tha time we reach tha border village, it shouldn’t be long.”

“Good.”

“But I caught Victor watchin’ me!”

Raven collapsed into the chair and placed her head in her hand; if their plans became screwed up because of Victor, she was going to kill him. Looking up, she saw Death relaxing in a chair right across from her. Just what she needed!

“I’ll talk to him tonight,” Raven mumbled, unexplainably exhausted.

Colt sank into his chair and sighed. “He’s startin’ to really bug me,” he said.

“We can’t focus on this kid anymore!” Richard said between clenched teeth. “We need to focus an’ prepare for tha King.”

“Well, we know he’ll be comin’ any day now. Once he’s here, yeh guys will leave an’ I’ll stay.”

Richard and Colt tensed at the idea.

“Yeh come back with some company an’ we attack an’ kill him.” Nonchalantly, she shrugged. “Take away tha choice of inheritance.”

“Tha attack needs to be over quickly, considering tha Knights’ sleeping quarters are next to the Castle,” Richard said.

The three grew silent.

“So why do yeh wanna stay here?” Colt asked.

“Choose your next words very wisely, my dear,” Death said as he passed through Richard and walked to Raven.

She looked away from him as she licked her lips. “Just to keep an eye on things, that’s oll.” Her words were mumbled as she spoke. “If I’m in tha Castle, then I can make sure tha King doesn’t leave for more Treaties. It’s tha best option.”

Richard removed her hand from her lips and looked at her now pale face. He opened his mouth to speak, but Raven got to him first, “I’m gonna go talk to Victor.”

The chair was pushed back, the box grabbed, and the door closed before Richard or Colt could stop her.

“Somethin’ is wrong with her,” Colt said after a second.

“I know.”

“Do yeh think it’s because she’s back here?”

“No, she’s been actin’ like this since tha Mountains . . . it’s just gotten worse.” Richard sighed. “Do we even know what happened to her in that cave with Ash?”

“I asked her about it, an’ she said nothin’ happened. Even if somethin’ did happen, she wasn’t bruised or anythin’.”

“We need to talk to her tonight,” Richard said. “Somethin’ isn’t right.”

They both leaned back in their chairs.

“How are yeh?” Richard asked.

“Eh?” Colt inquired.

“Tha nightmares, how are they?”

“They’re nightmares . . . I don’t really know how to answer tha question.”

“Yeah, yeh do, yer just avoidin’ it.”

Colt ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh. “Same thing as always. . . . I’m stabbed an’ chokin’ on blood.” He shrugged.

“Yer not sleepin’ again?” Richard asked.

“I never did. But, if I’m tired or drunk, I will.” Colt gave a pathetic smile.

“How are yeh doin’ after tha cave.” Richard felt more than guilty for not asking until now.

“Fine, I just . . . it was . . . I was back.” Richard remained quiet, allowing Colt to run through those pathways in his mind, knowing the majority of them were filled with blood and death and pain. He knew Colt usually ran away from those routes, but now he was diving headfirst into them.

Colt ran his fingers through his dirty-blond loose curly hair a few times. He scratched one of his scars before he finally took off the red over-shirt and tossed it onto the table, leaving the scar on his collarbone on full display. “It’s so vivid,” he mumbled. “I could feel him hittin’ me again an’ me fightin’ others an’ bein’ scared an’ bein’ locked in that damn cage.” Silver began to leak into his eyes. “I want to kill him. I want to kill him so bloody bad.”

“Yeh will.”

“I know, but . . . I don’t like waitin’.” He tried to joke, the silver retreating. “How are yeh?” Colt asked, changing the subject.

“Eh?”

“How are yeh?” The Shifter cleared his throat. “I know yeh were strugglin’ thinkin’ about yeh dad at one point; that still happenin’?”

Richard breathed in. “No. . . . Tha only time I think about him is when I’m rough with yeh or Raven.” His voice softened at the end.

“I’m sorry.”

Richard’s eyebrows furrowed together. “For what?”

“For flintchin’ away from yeh sometimes. I-I know yeh wouldn’t hit me,” Colt tried to explain. “Sometimes it just comes up-”

“I know an’ I don’t take it personally. Don’t apologize to me about yer past.”

The Shifter cleared his throat once more. “How is tha babysittin’ business goin’ with me an’ Raven? It can’t be easy.”

“At least yer self-aware of how much of a handful yeh two are.”

“Yer avoidin’ tha question.” Colt sang out.

“I don’t mind it.” Colt raised an eyebrow. “Honestly, I don’t. . . . I love yeh an’ Raven an’ I would do anythin’ for yeh.”

Colt met Richard’s eyes as his lips slightly parted at the words that he seldom said.

“Yeh do know that I love yeh, right?” Richard asked, hoping Raven and Colt knew it.

“Yeah,” Colt softly said. “I know.”

Colt’s parents abandoned him, and the one person who did take him in forced him into an unforgiving game and world. But here was Richard, a Farian telling a Shifter he loved him.

“Thank yeh,” Colt said.

“For what?”

“For helpin’ me an’ Raven. I know we don’t say it a lot, but we are grateful. . . . An’ we love yeh too.” He scratched one of his scars and cleared his throat. “I can put together my crossbow in ten seconds.” It had been a while since he had updated Richard on that skill.

Richard warmly smiled. “So a forty-second improvement overall?” When Richard had made Colt practice, the Shifter would get so distraught that all the parts would be thrown across the room.

Colt nodded and ran his fingers through his hair again.

Richard grabbed the red over-shirt and tossed it to the floor.

They both gave a faint smile.

***

Raven knocked harshly against Victor’s door.

She had placed the box where she was keeping her sword and ring.

Death stood behind her, thankfully being silent. Victor opened the door a few seconds later, a concerned look on his face. Raven shoved past him and walked into the room.

“Can I help you?” Victor asked with a slight edge in his voice.

“Can I help yeh?” Raven asked. “Can any of us help yeh?”

“What?”

“Why are yeh watchin’ us?” Victor opened his mouth to speak. “An’ lyin’ to me will be very unwise. Richard saw yeh watchin’ him today an’ then yesterday yeh followed us into town.” Raven stopped a few inches away from him.

Victor stepped back, and Raven stepped forward. He stared into her eyes, and, for one of the first times, realized that she looked ill. Her breath shook in anger and weakness.

“Are you ok-”

“Answer tha question!” Raven’s hand slammed against a wall. Victor nearly fell to the ground in shock and fear, but Raven grabbed his shirt and pulled him up.

“Easy, my dear,” Death said as he leaned against a wall.

Raven’s eyes quickly glanced at Death before they fell upon Victor again. Victor looked where she had glanced but only saw a wall.

“I-I’m just curious about the group.”

“Well, stop bein’ curious!” Her teeth ground together.

“But this Farian-”

“What Farian?!”

“The one that Richard gave a letter to today.”

“Richard did nothin’ of tha sort!”

“But I saw-”

“No, yeh didn’t!” She was so drained that she could barely think of a logical argument to get the Prince off their scent.

A knock at the door halted the conversation.

“My Prince?” Fernando said as he opened the door. “Who are you. . . ?” he trailed off, taking in the scene before him.

Raven let go of Victor and shoved past Fernando, walking into the hallway. His hand grabbed her arm and spun her around. She pushed back, and he allowed her too.

“Do you mind explaining to me what that was about?” Fernando asked as he closed Victor’s door.

“Yeah, I do.” Raven began to walk away, but Fernando grabbed her arm again.

“What’s going on with you?”

Death walked up behind Fernando and placed his hands on his shoulders. For some reason, the thought of Death touching Fernando forced all the anger out of her.

“Absolutely nothin’,” she weakly said, throwing Fernando off guard. So far, he had only seen anger and hate from her. Raven looked up at Death and stared into his eyes.

He smiled.

Fernando got down on one knee, his hands grasping her arms. Death’s hands were still on Fernando’s shoulders, but Raven’s attention turned to Fernando. Seeing a Knight, let alone a Captain, lower himself and show softness and sympathy was strange, almost like when Richard would open up to her or Colt.

“I understand that you probably don’t want to talk to me, and that’s fine. But if anything, I’m sorry.” Raven’s face softened, and she finally met Fernando’s eyes. “You’re right. I should’ve traveled to the Kingdom and gotten you and your mum out of there-”

“It wasn’t yer fault,” Raven interrupted. “Tha King ordered . . . .” Her eyes glowed in anger, the soft brown disappearing. She looked Death in his cold eyes, and her anger only increased. “It was tha King’s fault.”

“Raven. . . ?”

Raven looked back down at him.

Death leaned down until his face was next to Fernando’s, his hair swaying this way and that.

“Keep an eye on that kid of yers,” Raven said as she quickly grasped Fernando’s hand, gave it a light squeeze, and walked away.

Tears appeared in her eyes but didn’t fall. She was so weak she almost allowed them to. But if she did that, Death would be winning in a way; and he had already won enough . . . he was going to continue to win.

“Interesting choice, my dear,” Death said as he walked on the wall. “I was almost positive you would hug him before crying into his chest-”

“Shut up an’ go away!” Raven gritted out.

Death slammed her against the wall, one hand wrapped around her throat as the other grasped her face - his feet on the floor. Raven’s feet were hovering off the ground, and her hands latched onto his arm. The black liquid began to fill her lungs.

“Go ahead,” Raven choked out, coughing and gasping, “kill me.” She smirked.

Death smiled and leaned down to her. “Remember our deal and the stakes involved in it?” He leaned in closer until his breath fanned across her face. “Poor Richard and Colt won’t even know what hit them.” His grip around her throat increased, and the liquid tightened, causing her to breathe out in pain.

After a few more seconds, the liquid subsided. Death pulled his face away from hers, and his smile seemed to pierce her soul. He placed her feet back on the ground.

“Do we have an understanding?” Death asked. The hand that was grasping her chin moved her head up and down. “I’m glad.” He stepped back as he lightly slapped her face. “Go, your friends are waiting for you.” Raven stared at him as her feet lingered in response to the order. “Run along,” he said with a smile.

Raven slowly stepped forward and again and again.

Death’s head tilted to the side, and his hair mesmerizingly swayed with the motion. Raven, the Princess of the Mundus Kingdom, born from ash, a survivor of the Farian Kingdom, a person that only feared a handful of things was now pressed firmly under his thumb.

Raven, my puppet.

His smile widened at the thought.

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