The Huntsman of Adamos (Quartet)- draft

CH When one war ends…

Serapha shuddered and Abrieth reached for her out of instinct. “You are her sister? Come with us. We will protect you. I am Abrieth, and this is Regis. And...”

“Assassin Novice Riel, my princess,” lying, Sangriel interrupted, “My life, my blood, to serve you.”

“You’re of the Brotherhood,” Demona looked shocked.

“My lady, Sa... Assassin Riel wants to end the war as we do,” Abrieth corrected himself, using the name Sangriel gave the princess.

Princess Demona nodded then looked at Abrieth carefully, turning to her sister with wide eyes, “He’s your soul-half. What Evannae said was true?”

“Yes, sister, come away with us.” Serapha took her hand, ” We don’t have to be what mother was bred for us to be.”

“But what about Father? He loved mother, he loves us. We can’t leave him here, Grandmother will kill him,” Demona demanded horrified but Serapha could only shrug.

“I don’t think we can’t save him. Help me do the right thing, Demona, then escape with me to a better life.”

Demona looked between the four of them, then shook her head rapidly. “Grandmother and Grandfather are hearing petitions in the throne room until the darkest hour. Then we have the sacrifices then they will visit the prisoner. She goes in and tortures him while grandfather watches. We have to get there before they go to the Temple. If I’m not there, well...you know what happens to the others, and father.”

Serapha reached up and touched her sister’s face, “Is that what happened to your lip and eye?”

Regis and Abrieth noticed for the first time Demona’s face looked swollen under her facepaint. Sangriel revealed no emotion, priestesses were often abused.

“I wasn’t paying attention, I was punished. Please, Serapha, Father is in the dungeon, he fought with grandfather, we... we were trying to stop all this. Uncle Lazarif betrayed him, and his allies scattered. .. Come on, we have to get you away from here. I don’t want you to become Her. Can... can you take father with you? Before they kill him.”

“My lady, we need to save the huntsman first... but perhaps we can aid you and your father in escaping,” Regis offered.

“My Princess, where is the Fourth Prince?” Sangriel inquired.

“He is in the Cavern of Tears, to... to be...” Demona seemed to choke. “Please, we just want the war to stop.”

Sangriel bowed, “I will retrieve him, my princess.” Then he vanished with a vibration of shadows.

Demona led them out of the alley. She and Serapha walked side by side, heads held high, aloof. No one looked at them twice as they walked right up the palace steps and into the main hall before turning to go up a flight of stairs. Several floors later, they were in a large room that had a glass ring in the center. Abrieth could see Yurieth inside and it was all he could do to make himself stand behind Serapha as he was supposed to.

Demona walked up to the guard closest to the wall. “I am here to take this Aetherian dog to the temple. It is time to feed his blood to the Shadows.”

Serapha walked along the wall, trailing her fingers on it as she peered through. “It’s a shame grandmother won’t let us play with him. He’s pretty.”

“True, sister, but his blood will burn the same as anyone else’s.” Demona said in a bored voice. “Maybe she’ll give us his body after.”

“Princesses, the Queen has said nothing about this to me? The prisoner is to be held alive until she is finished with him.” The head warrior announced nervously.

“You think our grandmother needs to inform you of her choices before her own children. Do you know who we are?” Serapha hissed.

“Who we will be?” Demona added just as angrily, then she turned to Regis, “Remove his head.” Regis did it without hesitation.

“Anyone else?” Serapha snapped. None spoke or even looked at them. “Then get out.”

As soon as they were alone, Serapha put her hand on the glass and it rippled like water. Demona hissed at her to hurry.

“Yurieth?”

Yurieth turned over slowly, he had been cut and bled by the Dark Queen. “Serapha?”

She put her hands on his shoulders and breathed out, pushing her power into him, healing him and restoring him as she could. Suddenly, she turned and looked at the wall horrified, before her expression became blank. In a very low voice she whispered as she stroked his hair. “Oh no, grandfather’s here. He’s not supposed to here.”

“You have to go before they kill you.”

“Too late,” Serapha’s head was tipped as though she was listening. “Demona is telling him I’m trying to trick you into believing we are going to help you escape because we want you for ourselves. He is going to watch us leave. We’ll sneak into one of the bedrooms where Abrieth and Regis are waiting. Pretend to be weak.”

The glass rippled and Demona stepped in, “Hurry sister, while the guards are changing.”

“Who are you and where are you taking me?” Yurieth demanded.

“To the escape tunnel through the Temple. Please Huntsman, our people need your people to save us.” Demona answered convincingly.

Yurieth leaned on both Demona and Serapha as they walked out. No one was beyond the glass or in the hall. “Can I get some clothing?” Yurieth asked softly as they turned a corner, very conscious that he had only a bed sheet tied around his waist.

“You won’t need it, my huntsman,” the Dark Queen announced.

Demona muttered a curse and Serapha seemed to shrink on herself.

“Oh granddaughters, I am so disappointed that you would steal my prize from me. But I will forgive you, it seems Lord Yurieth does not find me beautiful. Soon, he will have one of you. Seize them all and take them to the temple.” The queen ordered. “Tonight, we will find out which of you the Dark Queen chooses and which one of you shall give up her blood to make the indwelling permanent.”

“Let them go, and kill me instead, “Yurieth demanded.

“Don’t worry, my lovely, your soul will not be long behind them, but I will be keeping your body for my lord.” The Queen smiled malevolently. “Bring them.”

“Don’t fight them,” Demona whispered.

Yurieth, Serapha, and Demona were marched to the Temple. King Apollyon was waiting with two of his sons.

“Where’s our father?” Demona demanded.

Apollyon slapped her, before grabbing her chin. “Insulant girl, my incompetent son doesn’t deserve to be here for the birth of the next Dark Queen. Personally, I hope she chooses your sister, Queen Ser’pha has such a nice ring to it, better than Queen Dem’na and she has always been the more submissive.”

“Shadows take you,” Demona hissed, and he laughed in a cruel cold way. And he forced her to kiss him, as the guards held her arms He jerked back when she bit him, glaring at her as she licked his blood off her lips.

The Dark Queen appeared wearing nothing but her body paint and laid down on the altar. Serapha was chained next to her grandmother and she screamed for her sister as Demona was dragged toward the blood altar. The magical beauty faded away and all could see Queen Bab’lonia for what she truly was, a hideous decrepit creature.

King Apollyon turned to Yurieth, who was forced to his knees. His eyes were solid black and eerily empty. “Someday soon, Huntsman, I will enjoy wearing your body for my own.”

While his back was turned, Demona threw something to her sister. With a nod, black and red flames exploded around Demona and engulfed Serapha and Queen Bab’lonia. Serapha glowed golden with healer’s magic and plunged the sacrificial blade into their grandmother’s chest. The Dark Queen screamed and thrashed as the sisters focused their magic upon her. Dark magic streamed up from the queen’s ancient body like a geyser. She jerked up and launched herself at Demona, skeletal hands seized Demona’s throat and when Serapha tried to help, Demona shook her head, croaking, “Don’t.”

A man shouted” Serapha! Don’t touch her, or it will go into you. Let your sister fight her.”

Abrieth shouted to his mind and Yurieth ducked as a pair of arrow flew over his head killing the berserkers who held him.

“Huntsman!” Sangriel yelled to him.

A huntsman’s knife and war ax flew toward Yurieth, he leapt and caught them, before turning and attacking Apollyon. The blood mages and sirens rushed to aid their King and Queen. Suddenly, there were several armed mages and sirens fighting against the King and Queen’s loyal ones.

In moments, the battle was over then King of Xelusia lay on the floor dead with something that looked like tar oozing from his wound, his body had dozens of arrows and swords impaled in it and had been partially dismembered. After the King fell, the Huntsman launched himself at the third prince, in moments, Prince Lazarif’s head lay at Yureith’s feet. There was a pile of ash and bone next to Serapha, who was cradling a convulsing Demona in her arms. Demona’s eyes were flickering back and forth between black and cranberry. Serapha was glowing bright golden, Abrieth stood behind her, palms on her shoulders, and poured his power into her.

“Don’t die, sister, don’t give up, reach for the light. I’m here.”

“Daughters...”

A man who looked identical to the one who had molested Demona on the temple stepped toward them, but Regis held up his hand. “Please your majesty, Lady Serapha has discovered her true magic as a healer of light. Let them heal your daughter.”

Suddenly, Demona sagged and when she opened her eyes, they looked normal. “She didn’t want me,” Demona sobbed in relief.

Serapha hugged her, crying happily, “Thank the Light.”

Lucif knelt and held his daughters. “We did it. The Kingdom is saved.” A few moments later, he stood to face the three Aetherian warriors.

“Huntsmen, Protector, I cannot thank you enough for saving my daughters, my people. I am Prince Lucif, fourth born of the house of the Fallen Star, and I surrender myself to you. Please don’t punish my people for what my parents have done.”

Flyers roared overhead and the Aetherians filled the city.

“Your petition will be considered.” Yurieth looked around at those he killed, then back to the prince, “I am sorry I killed your brother tonight, the other night I saw him hurt Demona in this very place. I... I guess I was avenging her.”

“Thank you, for I would have killed him myself after I escaped from prison.” Prince Lucif bowed his head. “I never wanted this for either of them. I loved their mother. She taught me another way, but we had to obey or be bled to death for the power in our blood. Our nightmare is over thanks to you.”

Regis turned as his father walked up the step, sharing all that happened between minds. “Prince Lucif, the Guardian Regulus of the House of Remus.”

Regulus held out his arm and Lucif took it. “Thank you for fighting so hard to save our people, Guardian Regulus.”

“It is my duty and my honor as an Aetherian to save our Xelusian brothers,” Regulus responded. “And thank you for sending us the detailed schematics of the defenses around the Temple City.”

“I became a traitor to save my people and my children, but it was worth it, ” Lucif declared, but Yurieth eyed him covertly.

The Huntsman did not know if he believed the Xelusian Prince or if his aura was simply too polluted to read, after centuries of using blood magic but he hoped Prince Lucif was genuinely changed, he was the last heir to his grandfather’s throne.

Yurieth, Abrieth, and Regis knelt before King Xerxes of Aetheriaas he placed a sash of honor around each of their necks. All but a small force to guard the techs, and builders, and healers who were helping the Xelusians repair their world, had returned to Aetheria . Regis and Seamus would be running the huntsman training at the only remaining King’s Academy. Prince Lucif gave them each an award for duty beyond blood, the highest honor a Xelusian warrior could receive.

At the celebration, it seemed like every available female on two planets was approaching the heroes who ended the war. But Abrieth only had eyes for Serapha, who was the only one he danced with. Yurieth stayed because it was his duty, but the space where his heart had once beat hurt, and he longed for the forest of home as he watched his brother and his sealed one dancing. The Prince had not realized that Abrieth and Serapha were soul-halves and assumed his youngest was just infatuated with the Aetherian hero who had saved her when their mountain estate was attacked.

Princess Demona extracted Yurieth from an eligible royal lady, “Excuse me, Lord Yurieth, my father wishes to speak with you. I am sorry, Lady Krilena, please pardon the interruption.”

Yurieth bowed and followed Demona, out onto a balcony. “Where’s your father?”

Demona laughed. “I have no idea, but you looked like you needed rescuing, and honestly, I needed to get out of that party.” She leaned forward and looked down at the gardens. “It’s beautiful here.”

“Would my lady like to see the royal gardens up close?” He asked chivalrously. She nodded then squeak in surprise when he lifted her up in his arms like a bride and jumped from the balcony. He set her back on her feet on the marble path. “This way, my lady.”

Together they walked through the gardens, Demona stopping to touch and smell many of the flowers. Neither spoke until they came to one of the many fountains.

“What will you do now that the war is over, my lord?” She had a dusting of pollen on the tip of her nose from smelling the flowers.

He reached up and brushed it off with his index finger, holding it up for her to see, “I do not know, but I feel you might have a calling as a honey bee, princess.”

She laughed, and it was a beautiful sound. “I can see why my sister loves your brother so much. Be my friend, teach me about your world, your people, so I can go home and teach mine how to live in light and love.”

“I will do my best, princess.”

Yurieth stood at the top off the falls, down river from the Winter Castle of the House of Adamos. He stared out at the lush green forest and his eyes came to rest on the spot he had picked and built his house. He should have come here two years ago, but he had let himself become distracted by a princess. It had ended badly when she had tried to bewitch him with her magic and now he wondered if every moment of the ‘friendship’ had an ulterior motive. She had been particularly angry that he had refused to be intimate with her. She did not understand that he needed to grieve his wife first and she was unwilling to wait.

He oddly felt like he had won the obvious war, only to begin a more subtle one. A war with himself.

Yurieth leapt over the edge and acrobatted down the rockface like a mountain goat. As he walked through the forest, he thought about his family and how much he missed them. Feelings he had not allowed himself to have during the war. Serapha had repeatedly offered to harvest his grief, but Yurieth wouldn’t let her. He felt he deserved this, he deserved this pain, and so he retreated into his century of mourning.