Saviour of Souls
Two months before the events of Maiden of Midnight... Destiny

Two months before the events of Maiden of Midnight…

Destiny

“I- Know-” I grunted, dancing on my feet, unable to focus as Cain ran me through the more obscure fighting techniques, ones that I had already perfected, once again, all the while reproaching me for looking through Seth Smith’s file again when I was meant to be sleeping. I couldn’t help it. There was something intriguing about his blue eyes and easy smile. The Night-Hunter descendant was intriguing, but marriage material? For me? No way! But Cain had been on my case since catching me, and I knew now that I would never hear the end of it, not even if I were to marry a Demonic-being in the next hour!

“You can’t fall in love with a Nephilim.”

“Cain!” I hissed, embarrassed, beginning to wish I’d burnt Seth’s file, shoving his sword away from my throat before it made contact, using Inferos to deflect its razor-sharp edge, my beloved blade glinting in the candlelight. Every now and then, he would have his Guardians blow them out, and we would spar in the dark, relying on our hearing.

“I’m just reminding you, Des,” he said, and suddenly, the room plunged into darkness. I closed my eyes, allowing them to adjust, and when I opened them again, I could see him standing toward the back of the room, the candles lit again, a smile on his face.

“I knew you were cheating!” He called, and I flushed when I noticed he was flicking through Seth’s file, murmuring, “Maybe, if you do well in this next training session, I’ll recommend him to Zeella as an adequate match for you?”

“Don’t you dare!” I snapped, and he pouted, lifting Seth’s photo from the file, “Aw, poor Seth, rejected by such a pretty girl!”

“Cain!” I whined loudly, the Guardians hiding their smiles as Cain continued to relentlessly tease me- the only person I allowed to do so without fear of being executed. I beckoned him with Inferos, and he grinned.

“Oh, do you want to dance, little cousin?” He turned to the stereo in the corner of the room, and I shook my head fervently. Cain knew how much I despised dancing, especially his dancing! He was too good at it! It made me look bad!

“No!” I said, “I want to train! Stop teasing me, or I’ll find someone else to train me! You’re insufferable!”

“No one else would tolerate all your lovey-dovey looks at Seth’s file, Des. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone- Ah!” I tackled him, the two of us smacking into the floor, and I punched him in the jaw, growling, “I am not in love with some filthy Nephilim! Shut your damn mouth about it!”

“Who’s in love?” Zeella purred from the balcony above, Cain helping me to my feet, and the Lord of Hell just glared down at me in disgust and disappointment, muttering, “I expect for a Princess of Hell to have a bit more grace and tactic in combat other than tackling. Run through your routine again. I wish to see it.”

“Yes, Zeella,” Cain and I murmured, and I picked up Inferos from where it had fallen, Cain grabbing his sword. Zeella had been increasingly impatient lately, especially when it concerned the Paradoxin Rift, and I often wondered, between studying the files and practising with Cain, if the Lords of Hell were hiding something concerning it. We ran through the motion quickly, not wanting to inconvenience Zeella by making him wait too long, before- “Son of a bitch!” I slipped over, having slipped on some sort of red liquid, and landed on my back, the wind knocked from me, though I still held Inferos. Zeella held his wine glass, now empty, upside-down over the balcony, hissing, “You need to learn to watch your surroundings! Things change, and change quickly!”

I gagged, trying to breathe, and Cain asked, “Are you alright?”

I held my thumb up, groaning, and sat back up, before sweeping Cain’s legs out from under him. When I looked up to see if Zeella approved, he was gone…

“You called, Zeella?”

“Desterium. Shut the door.” His voice was stern, and I noticed immediately the scattered bottles of wine around his study as I closed the door, not daring to so much as wipe the sweat from my brow as I stood in front of it, noticing that none of his Guardians, not even Tingen, were present. On his desk were the files for the Paradoxin Rift, marked with my name, and only my name, and a large sum of gold, my satchel next to it. Was that my pay?...

“Take a seat.”

I did as he asked, keeping my posture straight, though the bruise I had from landing on my back ached, running along my entire spine up until the back of my neck, and he ran a disapproving eye over my exhausted body.

“You haven’t slept.”

“No,” I whispered, knowing that his words had not been a question, but a simple statement of fact, “I haven’t.” Strange dreams had chased me from my sleep lately, haunting me with images of faces I didn’t recognise, places I knew only by a map on the wall, and I hated them enough that they drove me from sleep.

‘Talk to me!’ I screamed internally, ‘I know what day it is! I know what happened! Tell me you still love me as your daughter! At least tell me you loved her! Please!’

“Sleep is important, Desterium,” he said simply, spinning in his chair to pull a box from the shelf behind him, and I buried the thoughts running through my head, wishing I could go back to the training ring. The anniversary of my mother’s death, and Zeella’s wife, was tonight, and the only thing that could even come close to adequately distracting me was training with Cain. He knew, which was why he’d agreed to train so early in the night, and promised to train again later, before I slept. Or tried to sleep.

I hadn’t done much sleeping recently.

He placed the simple silver box on the desk, turning it to face me, and I paused, hope filling me. Was this a present? He used to give us presents, before Sarah died and our family fell into the ashes. I had long ago given up on it rising from them, the childlike images of a phoenix emerging from flames gone, although the irony that my half-sister had been named after the creature hadn’t been lost on me.

“Open it,” he said, leaning back, and with hope flaring in my veins, I threw it open. Inside was a single jar. I picked it up, wondering what it was, and he said, “Sleep tonic. I had it made for you, since you don’t seem to be sleeping, and I can’t stand looking at your tired face anymore.” Oh… I suppose I could think of it as a gift?

‘Tell me you’re doing it because you care. That’s it. That’s all I need to hear. Just today. Just once.’

“Thank you, Zeella,” I said quietly, pocketing it, and he pushed the files toward me.

“Luckily for you, I’ve decided to lighten your workload for the morning. These have been completed, you just need to file them. Get some rest. Use the tonic sparingly- three drops will knock you out cold for a few hours. You are dismissed.”

Grabbing the files, I rose, bowing my head to him, feeling strangely emotionless, and as I opened the door, he said, “Here.” Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

I caught the satchel just before it could hit me in the face, the weight of the coins nearly throwing me off balance, and I looked up at him. He was already pouring another glass from the bottle, and as I walked out, closing the door behind me, I bit back tears.

Cain met me in our bedroom, having used my bathroom, since he believed his was broken. In truth, I’d tampered with his, having removed the pipe to the hot water as a joke hours ago. Dropping the files and the satchel of coins onto the floor, I fell onto the bed, burying my face in the pillow, and burst into tears.

Cain had the courtesy of bringing me blankets from his own bed, tucking them around me like I was a small child, and after a while, when he began emptying my pockets, he found the sleep tonic.

“What’s this?” he asked, pulling the stopper out, and sniffing at it. It smelt strongly of lavender, and Scara.

“It’s a sleep tonic,” I sobbed out, and Cain, reading the label, said, “Do you want to use it?”

“I can’t… I don’t know why. I need sleep, but I can’t.” The thought of drugging myself felt abhorrent, though I knew it was good, and it helped so many others. Why couldn’t I bring myself to do it? What was I afraid of?

“Here. Open your mouth,” he said, and I shook my head. I wasn’t six. I couldn’t be tricked by the ‘here comes the airplane’ bullshit. Cain, seeing that I wasn’t going to fall for it, coaxed, “Then let me get you something to eat.”

I nodded, watching him walk off, leaving the bottle on the bedside table, and he returned, thanking Lillian, with a huge platter of almonds, and two cups of chamomile tea. Sitting on the edge of the bed, balancing the tray on his lap, he held out a cup of tea.

“Here you go.”

I sat up, sniffling like a child, turning my face away in embarrassment, and took the tea, swigging from it. It was warm, and the perfect thing for a cold night, and surprising me, Cain popped an almond in my mouth. I smiled slightly at the memory it induced, of nights spent watching movies on Earth and tossing popcorn into each other’s mouths, seeing who could catch the most. Finishing the first almond, I opened my mouth to thank him, and he did it again.

“What are you-” I was cut off by the taste of lavender on my tongue, Cain having spiked the almond, and before I could ask what he was up to, I fell back, Cain catching the cup in one hand, my body in the other, my hiss of surprise turning into a slurred noise. Son of a- “Sorry, Des,” he mumbled an apology, and removed the tray from the bed, tossing a blanket over me.

I fought against the lavender-scented sleep tonic for another ten minutes, Cain waiting by the door, but eventually, medical science won out over willpower, and I drifted off…

The ring glinted on my left hand as I entered the grand Palace, the Queen and her son waiting by the door, their chins lifted in arrogance, and I sized them up, debating who would make the first move, the stubborn Queen, or her impulsive son.

“Miss Maladur,” The Queen said, making my Guardians beside me bristle, “How kind of you to join us.”

“You called, I came. Simple.”

“Indeed,” She said curtly, annoyed by my short response, and I hid my smile, toying with the ring on my finger, wishing the others were with me, rather than back at the camp. I had decided to hide Inferos tonight, after the last incident.

“Take a seat, Miss Maladur.”

“You can call me by my name, you know.”

“That would be impolite, however, so I will remain with your title.”

Or lack of… I wanted to add, but deciding to keep my mouth shut on that front, I turned toward the Prince, who was already snivelling, his nose turned up at all of us, a glass of wine in his hand. When he saw I was watching, he pulled me to the side.

“You seem rather tense. Ah, I see you’ve been-” I sat up, having jolted myself from my sleep, and looked around the dark room. It smelt heavily of Seth, his scent everywhere, although he was missing from the room, and yawning, I peered through the curtain, trying to recover myself after the strange memory. It felt so real, like I was going through it all again, though this time, instead of waking in my room once again, I woke here, and here was- Yep. Still Ordeallan, though it was no longer raining anymore. Downstairs, I could hear the scraping clink of a spoon against a bowl, and shivering, I pulled his shirt on, wrapping a blanket around my body to go and join him. Before I could, I caught sight of a strange book on his desk. I had thought it was an Academy textbook, but looking closely at it, it was a book I had seen in my library back in Caliem dozens of times, and one that I had used to teach Michael and Chaos about their heritage, and what Demonic-beings were, how they ate, why they needed blood, how their powers worked. But what was that book doing here? Seth was a Demonic-being now, yes, but that didn’t explain how he’d found it. Alishan! She would have given it to him! I had noticed their friendship growing in the Caliem Manor, but I hadn’t expected her to teach him about Demonic-beings. In fact, I’d half-expected to have to do it myself, after he’d asked me to teach him more, not to mention breaking the mirage around Ordeallan.

That wouldn’t be a fantastic message to send to the Lords. Killing Agron’s army was one thing- that was just a petty revenge for Zeella’s unjust punishments. They would know that, but breaking the mirage would send an entirely different message. It would tell the Lords that I was no longer willing to work with them. I had already partially lost my status as an Heir, I didn’t want to lose the last remaining family I had left as well. But a promise was a promise, especially since I’d made it in good faith with Seth. I would wait a bit for the anger over killing Agron’s army to die down back in the Caliem Manor, and then I would remove the mirage. If their anger ever died down, that is. The insult of attacking Agron’s army would die, but would Zeella ever forgive me for sleeping with Seth? Outside, in the street beyond, I heard water being tossed around, as if someone was wading through the street, and behind that, the clashing of swords and shouting. Someone was outside, but that wasn’t what had caught my attention. It was the sound of dim, faraway fighting. Looking out the curtain, I squinted to stare at the war camp, where I could see the glints of swords against sunlight.

People were fighting!

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