The Huntsman of Adamos (Quartet)- draft

CH IMMINENT THREATS

The Huntsman slipped through the tunnels beneath the City of the Temples. He needed to guide Xerxes to the Queen’s chambers by a circuitous route while waiting for his mother to tell him Fleur was safe. He prayed to the Light that his nephew, Karstien, would be able to get her back to Aetheria without incident. Travelling through an unlit tunnel, Yurieth felt the Darkness drawing close to him and turned, pulling his longknife out of habit. There were shadows in every direction, they seemed to sway and dance with the thrum of the music from the celebration above, but none held the presence of the one that spoke to him in the sand storm.

His skin crawled as they reached out to touch him, whispering to him, calling him their lord. It felt like dew-wet spiderwebs were clinging to him, paralyzing him, and he was terrified for the third time in a day. A soft voice entreated him to pray, as his mother’s teachings reminded him of his heritage. He breathed out and let the light of his mother and his sealed one shine around him. The shadows retreated enough for him to escape. He sank against the wall of a different tunnel under a torch, his hands shaking and clammy from horror as he struggled to regain his calm. He felt the acute need to be in the forest, to be embraced by the lifeglow of the source of his magic. He wanted to leave this cursed place and never return but he had to do his duty.

The sound of voices had him retreating in the direction he knew Regulus was approaching with King Xerxes and two Protectors from. He met them in a room away from the main tunnels.

“What have you found, Huntsman?” The Guardian demanded.

“Queen Eonae is being held in a room on the third floor. Lady Fleur is being forced to sit with Prince Lucif in the throne room. My spy says Lucif plans to escort her to her room on the fifth floor, two hours before dawn and claim her in the Queen’s chambers as is their tradition.” Yurieth lied convincingly.

“Claim her?” Xerxes looked confused.

“I believe what the Huntsman means is that Prince Lucif will force himself upon her if she refuses him,” Regulus elaborated.

The others gasped then one of the Protectors asked, “What is that sound?”

“The Xelusians are celebrating their Prince presenting his bride.” Yurieth answered. “We must wait until it is time for the Prince to take her back to the Queen’s Chambers. We have no chance of rescuing her before then.”

“Your spy could not help us rescue Lady Fleur?” Xerxes demanded.

“No, but he is attempting to switch places with the guard on the chamber where Queen Eonae is kept. Fleur is being guarded by Lucif’s personal guards; they are all berserker blood warriors.” Yurieth’s mouth made a thin line. “I believe if we enter from the roof on the Temple street side we can avoid them, but we still need to rescue the Queen.”

Xerxes pulled at his beard thoughtfully then turned to Regulus, “Take the Protectors and rescue Eonae. The Huntsman and I shall liberate Lady Fleur.”

“But your Highness, I don’t think it wise we split up,” Regulus disagreed.

The old Aetherian glared at him. “Your son failed to protect my son and allowed my queen to be captured. You will make up for his failing and rescue her while Lord Yurieth and I rescue his sister.” Xerxes snarled, “Do not contradict me again, Regulus, you may be the last guardian, but I am the king and I outrank you.”

“Forgive me, my king, I only wish to protect you as is my duty.” Regulus bowed, followed by Yurieth.

As they made their way to the Temple and Palace, Regulus spoke to Yurieth’s mind, ‘The king means to see you dead because he believes Fleur is your sister and you will not let him court her.’

Yurieth agreed, and revealed his suspicions, ‘He also intends to make martyrs of you and Queen Eonae, these protectors are not what they seem.’

‘No, they are not. He left those loyal to Aetheria to guard the ship.’ Regulus revealed. ‘If the Light is willing, we will survive this night.’

Yurieth showed Regulus where to go to find Queen Eonae then reached out to touch His mother’s mind. He has felt Sangriel and Demona pass nearby as he covertly led King Xerxes to the roof of the Palace. His heart ached as his mother spoke to him. Waiting there, Yurieth wanted to collapse at the pain of his mother’s words. Yurieth was grateful Xerxes only had eyes for the Gate of Shadows set on the highest level of the Blood Temple.

“I always thought the Gate was a metaphorical name, are you sure it leads to another realm?” Xerxes inquired.

“Yes, my king. It was built to prevent a great evil from entering our world. It is said it consumes the souls of those who open it and condemns them to the Infernal Realm.” Yurieth hoped the mad, old King would listen but Fleur’s quietly sad words about meeting Xerxes in the Infernal Realm in the far future reminded him that the King of his people was already lost.

Lady Fleur of Adamos sat in the throne room of Xelusia as the Dark Oracle and tried not to shudder, the obsidian floors and blood marble pillars were the things of her nightmares. The blood marble throne she sat upon pretending to be their Siren Queen was the same one she had been chained to as a prisoner of war. All the horror of those months came back to her with the violence of the horror of feeling a world harvested of all life. More than a century had passed, and she still wasn’t over the suffering she had endured, only her will power kept her from faltering and fleeing.

Her mind repeated over and over, “Tomorrow I will die for my children and their future, I can make it one more day.”

Lady Naphtala stood on her right as her royal adviser. Prince Lucif sat on her left, running his fingertips up and down her arm just as another shadowed prince had done in her past and in the distant future. Hours after midnight Fluer stood and signaled to Naphtala.

“Leaving so early, my queen? Stay with me tonight.” Lucif smiled at her in a way that told her all he wished to do to her.

Instead of shuddering, she leaned forward and kissed him fiercely, biting his lip and licking his blood when she pulled back. “Tonight, at sunset, you will be king, and by tomorrow morning, I will be carrying the Heir of Shadows. What’s one more day to those who will conquer their enemy and all the worlds beyond?”

Pulling her into his lap, he crushed her against him and groped her, leaving bruises as they kissed again. Finally, he let her go and she stood, whispering. “Good night, my king.”

He grinned her words with blood stained teeth.

Fleur made herself walk slowly. All around her, people were having sex and cutting or biting each other to share blood. She had felt no less than a dozen people die from willingly letting themselves be bled. It horrified her to the core of her soul. Naphtala followed slightly behind at Fleur’s side and Fleur could hear the seer’s soul screaming too.

Once they were in her rooms, Fleur asked in a shaking voice. “How have you endured this for so long, Lady Naphtala?”

The Pale Lady of Baalru shrugged, the casual gesture seemed strange from one who was always so serious. “I very rarely attended such things, Lady Fleur. As a shadow seer, my aura must be unpolluted by the soul energy of others but being sealed to Canus meant I did have to endure them a few times a year. It wasn’t normally this... difficult.”

Fleur sighed, “I wish your life could have been different.”

Naphtala squeezed her hand, “I don’t, or I would not be able wield dark magic and do what needs to be done. You are everything Mina said you were and I... we will see you in the Veil of Light.”

“We?”

“Yes, Fleur, we.” Mina surprised her by stepping in from the bedroom.

Fluer looked at her, “What’s wrong? Did the enchantment on Abrieth fail?”

Mina smiled at her softly, “No, my daughter. It was a success, Serapha’s soul and mine are now bound to my son for his protection during his disembodiment. Now all that needs done is for you to do the enchantment for Yurieth and to live because you are his hope. Karstien, take her home.”

“What are you... no.” Fleur shook her head violently as she turned to face him.

“I’m sorry.” Karstien stepped off the balcony, his jaw clenched tightly.

Glass broke behind Fleur and too late she realized she had been dosed with a sleeping potion by either Mina or Naphtala. Karstien caught her as she collapsed, lifting her like a bride and carried her to her bed.

Black tears leaked from her eyes as she murmured, “No, it’s my turn.” Then she was unconscious.

As Karstien waited, Mina cut off her jeweled hair, leaving it only a few inches long. She shifted Fleur as Naphtala pulled off her dress and wrapped her in the red silk and headscarf of a temple acolyte. Once she was concealed, Karstien picked her back up. Mina pressed a kiss onto Fleur’s forehead

“Go, my grandson.” She cupped Karstien’s cheek. “Take care of our little flower, she is more broken than she realizes.” He nodded with tears in his eyes, as she secured his face mask.

“I love you, Grandmother. Thank you.”

Naphtala peeked out the door then opened it. After Karstien and Regis hurried away with Fleur, she sealed the door with dark magic. Yllumina was tearing pieces from Fleur’s dress and dripping blood around the room. Together, they destroyed the furniture and created the scene of a struggle. Both pulsed their power to leave traces of magic on the obsidian walls. Lastly, Naphtala poured the last vial of Fleur’s blood on Demona’s Cursed Blade, dropping it on the floor near where they were going to stand. It was two hours before dawn when Yurieth touched Mina’s mind to say Demona and Xerxes were on the way.

‘Do not linger and feel this, my son. I go into the Light knowing I have saved your sealed one. Love her for all time, Yurieth, never give up your hope. Hope endures as long as love lives.’ The she blocked out her son's mind.

“It is time,” Mina announced tiredly.

Naphtala picked up Fleur’s dress and hair before she hugged her cousin. Dark and light magic danced around them as they embraced, then Mina shattered a potion at their feet and a vortex of fire consumed them. There wasn’t even the time to scream before the inferno flickered out with a brilliant flash of golden light. Burned bits of hair, scraps of charred silk, ashes and sparks floated to the floor. The last High Oracle of the House of Yophriel and the Pale Lady Seer of the House of Baalru were no more.

Sangriel waited until the changing of the watchmen. He used his skill and magic as an assassin to materialize in Demona’s cell. She looked up at him in shock as he knelt before her.

“Forgive me, Princess, the oracle bewitched me.”

“Why should I trust you?” Demona demanded.

“You shouldn’t, I am an Assassin of the Blood Brotherhood, but it was I who carried you away from the battle at the Towers on Aetheria and made sure you were brought home when your father would have abandoned you. I cannot kill the Dark Oracle, I cannot resist her magic as you can.” Sangriel stood up, holding out his hand to her, “My soul and my blood serve the Shadows. Please, Princess Demona, you are our only hope to stop your father from giving the throne to an Aetherian. I will get you into the Queen’s chamber, but you must kill her and claim the Siren Queen before the oracle can destroy our kingdom.”

Demona smiled in a viciously malevolent way. “I need my cursed blade.”

Sangriel bowed, informing her, “It is already in her chambers. She demanded it and your father gave it to her.”

“Then I shall have to take it back,” Demona sneered, her face twisting into an ugly mask. “Take me.”

“As my princess commands.”

Sangriel wrapped his cloak around her and they slipped out the door and between the watchful eyes of the guards. Half an hour later, the princess and the assassin stood in the chamber below the Queen’s bedroom. She clung to his shoulders as he climbed the wall like a spider and onto one of the balconies on the across from the Hall of the Blood Mages. Silently, they slipped through the dimly lit guest chamber. Demona pushed open the door to the main room and her nose was assaulted with the smell of spent magic, death, and smoke. The room looked as though a bomb had exploded in it. A glimmer of red near a spot of charred marble drew her attention and she walked over to pick up her grandmother’s sacrificial knife. She licked the blood from the blade with a smirk, whomever had been slain was powerful.

“Demona! What have you done?” Her father demanded from the arch leading to the foyer.

Shocked, Demona looked around and realized too late what it looked like. “It wasn’t me, father. I... I found the chamber this way. The Assassin brought me...”

“Don’t lie Demona, you are alone.” Prince Lucif stormed over to her and grasped her wrist painfully, then he licked the blood from the blade she held. “This is the Queen’s blood. You killed her.”

He backhanded her across the room, and she collapsed in a heap on the floor just as the King of Aetheria and his Huntsman dropped onto the balcony.

Taking in the room, Xerxes snarled at Lucif, “You dared kill her when she refused you!”

“Guards,” Lucif shouted, pulling his sword. At Xerxes, he spat, “She would not refuse me. She was our future queen.” His magic deflected a blast from the king’s power.

Xerxes attacked with blade and magic. “She was Aetherian oracle, she would never be your queen. She begged me to save her from you, you blood sucking parasite. I can smell Fleur’s blood on your breath.”

“You are a hypocrite, you use blood magic too,” Lucif accused.

As they battled, Yurieth fought against four guards. He was about to be overwhelmed when Demona screamed for her father and a blast of magic exploded. He blinked against the concussion only to be tackled to the ground. Xerxes was dead with Demona’s blade in his back. Yurieth was forced to kneel in front of Prince Lucif, who held a sword to his throat as the Prince’s blood flowed from a wound near his heart. The color was almost black.

“No, father, please,” Demona begged, clinging to his arm.

Lucif turned on his eldest, grabbing her by the neck. He hissed in her face, “You killed the Queen a second time and then dare to beg me for your lover’s life.” Demona clawed at his hand as her eyes fluttered, unable to draw breath or speak.

“Let her go,” Yurieth growled; he was beaten for speaking by the guards.

Demona coughed when Lucif dropped her, only to whimper when he picked her up by her hair.

“Bring him.” The prince ordered, then Lucif dragged Demona outside and up the steps of the temple. He raged seeing Fleur’s bloody footprints still on the marble. Demona screamed and struggled as he manhandled her. When Lucif stopped in front of the Gate, he whispered in her ear, “So you want to be queen, my daughter, and save your lover for the Lord of Shadows. We shall see if she will accept you or destroy you.”

“NO! No!” Demona screamed as her father pitched her through the veil between their world and their deity’s realm.

Yurieth was barely conscious as he was thrown down, but instead of landing on the floor, he felt the disorientation of passing through a portal and then it began to get cold before he landed in something soft like the finest sand. Pushing himself up, he saw Demona knelt in the dim light only a few feet away. She was staring into the distance, looking terrified.

“They’re coming... They’re coming for us and they are angry.”

Yurieth stood on the strange surface. He was unarmed and he had no idea how to fight these creatures.