Chapter 111: 111
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Kal's face goes as white as a sheet, shaking a little, his fingers quivering on the edge of his seat. The little white fox's body turns rigid, the ethereal glow from it's antennae reducing to little more than a minute and inconsistent spark. An unnatural stillness settles around the room like a dense fog, even in Fangorn, who has since stopped to tilt his head to one side, eyeing Kal from the side of his vision as though hoping to desperately communicate some message across to him without making me privy of the knowledge.
As if that would work.
"Just tell me what you were doing with her, that is all I ask. Is that so hard? After all, I thought we had a mutual agreement that you two are supposed to share information with me," I mutter irritably, pursing my lips together as I eye them all with an unsavoury look. Why does no one tell me anything any more?
Of course, from dear little Kal's perspective, there would be absolutely no use in denying it. The extent of my ability to hear into his heart- in more ways than one- would render any of his objections to my statement completely and utterly worthless. Kal- a young dragon who has spent at least one hundred years of his life under my watchful wing in the palaces of Sezeria, learning about the ways of the vampires and the mysteries of their magic, even learning a few secret tricks to steal away for himself, by now is all to aware of the capacity my magic holds against him, against everyone.
I hold back an irritable sigh. It is not so much the notion of why Serena and this so called 'Ithuriel' have been associating with an outcast and a the young dragon apprentice of my court (I already have an inkling into the reason), it is more to the fact that Fangorn nor Kal had not informed me earlier. After all, they are supposed to be my eyes and ears, secrets between companions of war should not exist at all, and yet here I am, watching the two outcasts remain stiff with a mutual silence, lips pursed, eyes lowered, as though that somehow may stop me from getting into their hearts.
There is obviously something they don't want me to know.
Kal's fists form twin balls on the table. There is a look on his face, shining in the wetness of his eyes that have sprung up due to the force of my accusation against him- for as tough and carefree as the dragon wishes to make himself appear, underneath is a soft exterior, a balloon, waiting to be punctured by something with just enough force to get through the metal of his flesh. Under any other circumstances, I would have gone to comfort him, slung my arm around his shoulder and told him that it would all be fine. But dealing with my brother earlier had expended the last of my sympathy for the evening, and thus I am in little mood to be being strung about from two people which I hope to call my friends.
At last, Fangorn speaks up, curling his fingers around Kal's shoulder as he shoots me a dirty look, like a father consoling his son after being wrongly reprimanded by a headmaster.
"Yes, we know them. They came seeking our aid, your Queen needed our help, and I was not likely to deny her it. But that is her tale to tell, not mine. Right now, you asked my help in keeping her alive, and that is what I shall give, so listen to me closely, boy,"
He says, curling a finger my edge me forward, his eyes glowing menacingly against the gloomy half light of the room, bolstered by the liquor in his veins that gives him just enough daring to put himself in a position of authority against me with little more than a bat off an eye.
My eye irritably twitches at the remark.
Fangorn may be thousands of years older than me, may have seen the war and the great beginnings of time, but in all the hundreds of years that I have known him, he was always as a father to me, a companion, and a source of guidance in my younger and more frivolous days. But he rarely, rarely, called me 'boy'. To him, the term was always just a cry too degrading.
I suppose that means he must be livid.
"Listen closely," Fangorn says, drawing my attention back to him as he raises to fingers at me, eyes lowered, face pulled down into an enigmatic frown so that all at once his body seems to ripple with an unforeseen unpredictability, as though every move, every action is neither one I can predict nor hope to decipher.
With careful precision of a general to his troops, he spells out his words.
"Whatever you think it is going on, whatever you fear, whatever your suspicions about our interactions are, your Serena's life is far more important. That girl has something I have not seen in a person once for the thousands of years of my life. She has a spark, she has hope for the future, and more importantly, she chooses to put her faith in you. She trusts with all her heart that you, yes you Soren, will hold true to her. And one day, perhaps even someday soon, you will realise something about that girl that will bring a harsh reality crashing down on you. And I sure as hell hope when that day comes, you will choose her rather than what is expected of you."
A shock of static runs through me at his words. I barely even notice when Kal tugs at Fangorn's sleeve, shaking his head morosely as he utters under his breath:
"Father, no…"
Angrily, I snarl, bringing all eyes in the room to my attention.
All at once everyone goes silent.
"Is that it," I whisper, gritting my teeth, black nails scratching out against the table, splintering the wood beneath my finger tips in just the right way to draw blood. I steady my breath, allowing the anger to subside in my veins.
At last Kal plucks up the nerve to question my accusation.
"...Soren?"
I raise my eyes. Three faces stare back at me: The gaunt, sharp face of Fangorn, whose good eyes watches me with its blinding crimson red, tracing my every movement, finger flexing at his sides, as though prepared to jump up and subdue me at any moment. Kal sits with the little white fox, who he has since drawn into his lap, his black eyes welling with half forgotten tears, his hands absently running through the foxes white fur shakily. He looks confused, uncertain, though it is what I would expect of him, given my outburst. But the most curious expression of all is that little white fox in particular, who observes me with a look that might almost classify as realisation. Despite myself, I almost crack a small smile. Perhaps someone in here is not so unobservant after all.
"Do you honestly think," I whisper, leaning back on my chair as I raise my fingers to my lips, running my tongue along their lengths to lap away the rivulets of red blood which- quite fortunately, have begun to clot over. I set down my hand firmly. "That after all this time, I would not have realised what she is?"
Kal's eyes widen.
"Do you mean-"
I do not let him finish.
"What do you take me for, Fangorn, Kal? She is my mate, do you think I wouldn't have realised by now?" I growl, sweeping up the room in writhing coils of dark shadows that exude themselves from my body like snakes sliding across the surface of the lake. At once the room feels cooler, an icy plane settling in the air that we breath, turning our breath into a wintry white smoke. They always said that the fires of hell would scorch you, burning away all greed and sin with one fell swoop of its immortal flame, but the fires of hell aren't warm, they are cold. Cold as the frozen lakes that sit over an icy desert, of the chilled sparking frosts of winter and the eternal grey gloom that sits over the walls of my palace- brought to life only by the heavenly golden glow of the sun as she rises every morning.
Cold as my blood.
"I am not like my brother, not some heathen that will bring his Queen to ruination for some petty reason or another. I know what she is. I know where she comes from. You take me as unobservant, as an idiot, but tell me, after all this time, how could I possibly not have known? Her heart and her mind were open to me as soon as the mating link was established, I know what she is, and I do not care."
I take a breath, raising my hand to steady my head and the slight sway of the room that has been brought about by my outrage. I can tell that my surrounding companions have questions, that they are bursting to say their mind, but in this moment, I find I do not care. These words have been trapped inside me for so long, the relief of saying them is too much of a blessing not to take. I continue on.
"I used to be the cruellest person in the whole of Faey, I used to make the rivers run red with blood and the skies soak in a crimson rain. I used to believe that vampires didn't have a heart, that we were born soulless creatures destined to wander alone for eternity, bound by only the desire to kill and our lust for blood, until I met her. By all convention I should have killed her by now, but I haven't, have I? She is the only good thing left in this world, the only person I would be content to give my heart to. She alone has the capacity to save, to restore, what I never could. With her by my side, I could bring about just about anything, we could even end this god forsaken war. So don't you dare lecture me on trust and expectations and paint me to be this heartless, coldblooded killer that the world delights to see me as; you think I don't care for her, that I would be ready to give her up on a moments notice. I do not care if she has wings, or horns, and I certainly don't care if she is an angel, not any more, because this woman taught me how to love. Because the first time in my immortal life, I have found someone I am willing to die for."
My voice breaks, my resolve cracks, and I squeeze my eyes shut against the wells of tears that spike my eyes. The next words come out as barely a whisper.
"So for the love of hell, help me save her. I am begging you."
Fangorn's voice echoes softly across the room.
"You chose to be with her, even though you knew what she was? You've loved her- after all this time?"
I give him a small smile.
"Always."
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Kal's face goes as white as a sheet, shaking a little, his fingers quivering on the edge of his seat. The little white fox's body turns rigid, the ethereal glow from it's antennae reducing to little more than a minute and inconsistent spark. An unnatural stillness settles around the room like a dense fog, even in Fangorn, who has since stopped to tilt his head to one side, eyeing Kal from the side of his vision as though hoping to desperately communicate some message across to him without making me privy of the knowledge.
As if that would work.
"Just tell me what you were doing with her, that is all I ask. Is that so hard? After all, I thought we had a mutual agreement that you two are supposed to share information with me," I mutter irritably, pursing my lips together as I eye them all with an unsavoury look. Why does no one tell me anything any more?
Of course, from dear little Kal's perspective, there would be absolutely no use in denying it. The extent of my ability to hear into his heart- in more ways than one- would render any of his objections to my statement completely and utterly worthless. Kal- a young dragon who has spent at least one hundred years of his life under my watchful wing in the palaces of Sezeria, learning about the ways of the vampires and the mysteries of their magic, even learning a few secret tricks to steal away for himself, by now is all to aware of the capacity my magic holds against him, against everyone.
I hold back an irritable sigh. It is not so much the notion of why Serena and this so called 'Ithuriel' have been associating with an outcast and a the young dragon apprentice of my court (I already have an inkling into the reason), it is more to the fact that Fangorn nor Kal had not informed me earlier. After all, they are supposed to be my eyes and ears, secrets between companions of war should not exist at all, and yet here I am, watching the two outcasts remain stiff with a mutual silence, lips pursed, eyes lowered, as though that somehow may stop me from getting into their hearts.
There is obviously something they don't want me to know.
Kal's fists form twin balls on the table. There is a look on his face, shining in the wetness of his eyes that have sprung up due to the force of my accusation against him- for as tough and carefree as the dragon wishes to make himself appear, underneath is a soft exterior, a balloon, waiting to be punctured by something with just enough force to get through the metal of his flesh. Under any other circumstances, I would have gone to comfort him, slung my arm around his shoulder and told him that it would all be fine. But dealing with my brother earlier had expended the last of my sympathy for the evening, and thus I am in little mood to be being strung about from two people which I hope to call my friends.
At last, Fangorn speaks up, curling his fingers around Kal's shoulder as he shoots me a dirty look, like a father consoling his son after being wrongly reprimanded by a headmaster.
"Yes, we know them. They came seeking our aid, your Queen needed our help, and I was not likely to deny her it. But that is her tale to tell, not mine. Right now, you asked my help in keeping her alive, and that is what I shall give, so listen to me closely, boy,"
He says, curling a finger my edge me forward, his eyes glowing menacingly against the gloomy half light of the room, bolstered by the liquor in his veins that gives him just enough daring to put himself in a position of authority against me with little more than a bat off an eye.
My eye irritably twitches at the remark.
Fangorn may be thousands of years older than me, may have seen the war and the great beginnings of time, but in all the hundreds of years that I have known him, he was always as a father to me, a companion, and a source of guidance in my younger and more frivolous days. But he rarely, rarely, called me 'boy'. To him, the term was always just a cry too degrading.
I suppose that means he must be livid.
"Listen closely," Fangorn says, drawing my attention back to him as he raises to fingers at me, eyes lowered, face pulled down into an enigmatic frown so that all at once his body seems to ripple with an unforeseen unpredictability, as though every move, every action is neither one I can predict nor hope to decipher.
With careful precision of a general to his troops, he spells out his words.
"Whatever you think it is going on, whatever you fear, whatever your suspicions about our interactions are, your Serena's life is far more important. That girl has something I have not seen in a person once for the thousands of years of my life. She has a spark, she has hope for the future, and more importantly, she chooses to put her faith in you. She trusts with all her heart that you, yes you Soren, will hold true to her. And one day, perhaps even someday soon, you will realise something about that girl that will bring a harsh reality crashing down on you. And I sure as hell hope when that day comes, you will choose her rather than what is expected of you."
A shock of static runs through me at his words. I barely even notice when Kal tugs at Fangorn's sleeve, shaking his head morosely as he utters under his breath:
"Father, no…"
Angrily, I snarl, bringing all eyes in the room to my attention.
All at once everyone goes silent.
"Is that it," I whisper, gritting my teeth, black nails scratching out against the table, splintering the wood beneath my finger tips in just the right way to draw blood. I steady my breath, allowing the anger to subside in my veins.
At last Kal plucks up the nerve to question my accusation.
"...Soren?"
I raise my eyes. Three faces stare back at me: The gaunt, sharp face of Fangorn, whose good eyes watches me with its blinding crimson red, tracing my every movement, finger flexing at his sides, as though prepared to jump up and subdue me at any moment. Kal sits with the little white fox, who he has since drawn into his lap, his black eyes welling with half forgotten tears, his hands absently running through the foxes white fur shakily. He looks confused, uncertain, though it is what I would expect of him, given my outburst. But the most curious expression of all is that little white fox in particular, who observes me with a look that might almost classify as realisation. Despite myself, I almost crack a small smile. Perhaps someone in here is not so unobservant after all.
"Do you honestly think," I whisper, leaning back on my chair as I raise my fingers to my lips, running my tongue along their lengths to lap away the rivulets of red blood which- quite fortunately, have begun to clot over. I set down my hand firmly. "That after all this time, I would not have realised what she is?"
Kal's eyes widen.
"Do you mean-"
I do not let him finish.
"What do you take me for, Fangorn, Kal? She is my mate, do you think I wouldn't have realised by now?" I growl, sweeping up the room in writhing coils of dark shadows that exude themselves from my body like snakes sliding across the surface of the lake. At once the room feels cooler, an icy plane settling in the air that we breath, turning our breath into a wintry white smoke. They always said that the fires of hell would scorch you, burning away all greed and sin with one fell swoop of its immortal flame, but the fires of hell aren't warm, they are cold. Cold as the frozen lakes that sit over an icy desert, of the chilled sparking frosts of winter and the eternal grey gloom that sits over the walls of my palace- brought to life only by the heavenly golden glow of the sun as she rises every morning.
Cold as my blood.
"I am not like my brother, not some heathen that will bring his Queen to ruination for some petty reason or another. I know what she is. I know where she comes from. You take me as unobservant, as an idiot, but tell me, after all this time, how could I possibly not have known? Her heart and her mind were open to me as soon as the mating link was established, I know what she is, and I do not care."
I take a breath, raising my hand to steady my head and the slight sway of the room that has been brought about by my outrage. I can tell that my surrounding companions have questions, that they are bursting to say their mind, but in this moment, I find I do not care. These words have been trapped inside me for so long, the relief of saying them is too much of a blessing not to take. I continue on.
"I used to be the cruellest person in the whole of Faey, I used to make the rivers run red with blood and the skies soak in a crimson rain. I used to believe that vampires didn't have a heart, that we were born soulless creatures destined to wander alone for eternity, bound by only the desire to kill and our lust for blood, until I met her. By all convention I should have killed her by now, but I haven't, have I? She is the only good thing left in this world, the only person I would be content to give my heart to. She alone has the capacity to save, to restore, what I never could. With her by my side, I could bring about just about anything, we could even end this god forsaken war. So don't you dare lecture me on trust and expectations and paint me to be this heartless, coldblooded killer that the world delights to see me as; you think I don't care for her, that I would be ready to give her up on a moments notice. I do not care if she has wings, or horns, and I certainly don't care if she is an angel, not any more, because this woman taught me how to love. Because the first time in my immortal life, I have found someone I am willing to die for."
My voice breaks, my resolve cracks, and I squeeze my eyes shut against the wells of tears that spike my eyes. The next words come out as barely a whisper.
"So for the love of hell, help me save her. I am begging you."
Fangorn's voice echoes softly across the room.
"You chose to be with her, even though you knew what she was? You've loved her- after all this time?"
I give him a small smile.
"Always."
Kal's face goes as white as a sheet, shaking a little, his fingers quivering on the edge of his seat. The little white fox's body turns rigid, the ethereal glow from it's antennae reducing to little more than a minute and inconsistent spark. An unnatural stillness settles around the room like a dense fog, even in Fangorn, who has since stopped to tilt his head to one side, eyeing Kal from the side of his vision as though hoping to desperately communicate some message across to him without making me privy of the knowledge.As if that would work. "Just tell me what you were doing with her, that is all I ask. Is that so hard? After all, I thought we had a mutual agreement that you two are supposed to share information with me," I mutter irritably, pursing my lips together as I eye them all with an unsavoury look. Why does no one tell me anything any more?Of course, from dear little Kal's perspective, there would be absolutely no use in denying it. The extent of my ability to hear into his heart- in more ways than one- would render any of his objections to my statement completely and utterly worthless. Kal- a young dragon who has spent at least one hundred years of his life under my watchful wing in the palaces of Sezeria, learning about the ways of the vampires and the mysteries of their magic, even learning a few secret tricks to steal away for himself, by now is all to aware of the capacity my magic holds against him, against everyone. I hold back an irritable sigh. It is not so much the notion of why Serena and this so called 'Ithuriel' have been associating with an outcast and a the young dragon apprentice of my court I already have an inkling into the reason, it is more to the fact that Fangorn nor Kal had not informed me earlier. After all, they are supposed to be my eyes and ears, secrets between companions of war should not exist at all, and yet here I am, watching the two outcasts remain stiff with a mutual silence, lips pursed, eyes lowered, as though that somehow may stop me from getting into their hearts.There is obviously something they don't want me to know. Kal's fists form twin balls on the table. There is a look on his face, shining in the wetness of his eyes that have sprung up due to the force of my accusation against him- for as tough and carefree as the dragon wishes to make himself appear, underneath is a soft exterior, a balloon, waiting to be punctured by something with just enough force to get through the metal of his flesh. Under any other circumstances, I would have gone to comfort him, slung my arm around his shoulder and told him that it would all be fine. But dealing with my brother earlier had expended the last of my sympathy for the evening, and thus I am in little mood to be being strung about from two people which I hope to call my friends.At last, Fangorn speaks up, curling his fingers around Kal's shoulder as he shoots me a dirty look, like a father consoling his son after being wrongly reprimanded by a headmaster."Yes, we know them. They came seeking our aid, your Queen needed our help, and I was not likely to deny her it. But that is her tale to tell, not mine. Right now, you asked my help in keeping her alive, and that is what I shall give, so listen to me closely, boy,"He says, curling a finger my edge me forward, his eyes glowing menacingly against the gloomy half light of the room, bolstered by the liquor in his veins that gives him just enough daring to put himself in a position of authority against me with little more than a bat off an eye. My eye irritably twitches at the remark.Fangorn may be thousands of years older than me, may have seen the war and the great beginnings of time, but in all the hundreds of years that I have known him, he was always as a father to me, a companion, and a source of guidance in my younger and more frivolous days. But he rarely, rarely, called me 'boy'. To him, the term was always just a cry too degrading. I suppose that means he must be livid."Listen closely," Fangorn says, drawing my attention back to him as he raises to fingers at me, eyes lowered, face pulled down into an enigmatic frown so that all at once his body seems to ripple with an unforeseen unpredictability, as though every move, every action is neither one I can predict nor hope to decipher.With careful precision of a general to his troops, he spells out his words."Whatever you think it is going on, whatever you fear, whatever your suspicions about our interactions are, your Serena's life is far more important. That girl has something I have not seen in a person once for the thousands of years of my life. She has a spark, she has hope for the future, and more importantly, she chooses to put her faith in you. She trusts with all her heart that you, yes you Soren, will hold true to her. And one day, perhaps even someday soon, you will realise something about that girl that will bring a harsh reality crashing down on you. And I sure as hell hope when that day comes, you will choose her rather than what is expected of you."A shock of static runs through me at his words. I barely even notice when Kal tugs at Fangorn's sleeve, shaking his head morosely as he utters under his breath:"Father, no"Angrily, I snarl, bringing all eyes in the room to my attention.All at once everyone goes silent."Is that it," I whisper, gritting my teeth, black nails scratching out against the table, splintering the wood beneath my finger tips in just the right way to draw blood. I steady my breath, allowing the anger to subside in my veins.At last Kal plucks up the nerve to question my accusation."...Soren?"I raise my eyes. Three faces stare back at me: The gaunt, sharp face of Fangorn, whose good eyes watches me with its blinding crimson red, tracing my every movement, finger flexing at his sides, as though prepared to jump up and subdue me at any moment. Kal sits with the little white fox, who he has since drawn into his lap, his black eyes welling with half forgotten tears, his hands absently running through the foxes white fur shakily. He looks confused, uncertain, though it is what I would expect of him, given my outburst. But the most curious expression of all is that little white fox in particular, who observes me with a look that might almost classify as realisation. Despite myself, I almost crack a small smile. Perhaps someone in here is not so unobservant after all. "Do you honestly think," I whisper, leaning back on my chair as I raise my fingers to my lips, running my tongue along their lengths to lap away the rivulets of red blood which- quite fortunately, have begun to clot over. I set down my hand firmly. "That after all this time, I would not have realised what she is?"Kal's eyes widen."Do you mean-"I do not let him finish."What do you take me for, Fangorn, Kal? She is my mate, do you think I wouldn't have realised by now?" I growl, sweeping up the room in writhing coils of dark shadows that exude themselves from my body like snakes sliding across the surface of the lake. At once the room feels cooler, an icy plane settling in the air that we breath, turning our breath into a wintry white smoke. They always said that the fires of hell would scorch you, burning away all greed and sin with one fell swoop of its immortal flame, but the fires of hell aren't warm, they are cold. Cold as the frozen lakes that sit over an icy desert, of the chilled sparking frosts of winter and the eternal grey gloom that sits over the walls of my palace- brought to life only by the heavenly golden glow of the sun as she rises every morning. Cold as my blood. "I am not like my brother, not some heathen that will bring his Queen to ruination for some petty reason or another. I know what she is. I know where she comes from. You take me as unobservant, as an idiot, but tell me, after all this time, how could I possibly not have known? Her heart and her mind were open to me as soon as the mating link was established, I know what she is, and I do not care."I take a breath, raising my hand to steady my head and the slight sway of the room that has been brought about by my outrage. I can tell that my surrounding companions have questions, that they are bursting to say their mind, but in this moment, I find I do not care. These words have been trapped inside me for so long, the relief of saying them is too much of a blessing not to take. I continue on."I used to be the cruellest person in the whole of Faey, I used to make the rivers run red with blood and the skies soak in a crimson rain. I used to believe that vampires didn't have a heart, that we were born soulless creatures destined to wander alone for eternity, bound by only the desire to kill and our lust for blood, until I met her. By all convention I should have killed her by now, but I haven't, have I? She is the only good thing left in this world, the only person I would be content to give my heart to. She alone has the capacity to save, to restore, what I never could. With her by my side, I could bring about just about anything, we could even end this god forsaken war. So don't you dare lecture me on trust and expectations and paint me to be this heartless, coldblooded killer that the world delights to see me as; you think I don't care for her, that I would be ready to give her up on a moments notice. I do not care if she has wings, or horns, and I certainly don't care if she is an angel, not any more, because this woman taught me how to love. Because the first time in my immortal life, I have found someone I am willing to die for."My voice breaks, my resolve cracks, and I squeeze my eyes shut against the wells of tears that spike my eyes. The next words come out as barely a whisper."So for the love of hell, help me save her. I am begging you."Fangorn's voice echoes softly across the room."You chose to be with her, even though you knew what she was? You've loved her- after all this time?"I give him a small smile."Always."
