The Crimson Dawn
Blood Scales

Atlas was against the wall before she could even register the chaos of movement, screams, and glass shattering around her. Altair held her against the wall as the panicked crowd pushed against each other, being herded like cattle away from the only exits. “Stay close,” Altair whispered, his breath tickling her ear, she looked up at him. His red eyes watched the Bloods as they stalked the ballroom, what was he thinking about?

Hissing echoed off the walls, the sound originating from the hallway, getting louder as one of the Bloods, their leader from what Atlas could guess, opened the huge doors. More Bloods dragged themselves in and the hissing followed behind them, the soft sound of scales moving against the marble and Atlas watched as a Serpent slithered into the Ballroom. The crowd pushed back, gasps filling the room and they all tried to get away but they were caged into the corner by rotting corpses. Atlas didn’t take her eyes off the snake, she barely acknowledged what was happening around her as unexplainable rage bubbled in her chest.

The snake slowly raised her head, like she was entranced by a flute and her tongue flicked into the air, she coiled her long body around itself, and she moved with a mesmerizing slowness. Her head snapped to look at the crowd, her blood eyes scanning the faces and her forked tongue slid out of her mouth again, then her eyes reflected Atlas’s face. Her face was filled with dress and as the beast screeched, “Wolf!” Atlas started pushing her way through the crowd, the logical thing to do was to try to run but she wanted a weapon and she wanted to skin the bloody scales of the damn snake! A Blood managed to grab her, restraining her well enough so that he could throw Atlas to her knees in front of the serpent.

“Atlas!” Altair screamed but he was only a voice in the crowd. Atlas scrambled backwards onto her feet to get away from the large snake who only watched her with amusement dancing in her ruby eyes. A blade pressed against her throat as Atlas’s back hit a woman’s chest, the rotted breath against her ear and Atlas felt spiders crawl across her body, sending goosebumps to erupt.

“You have such pretty eyes, little wolf, perhaps I should take them, so you match your master,” she hissed, her contempt obvious in her colubrine eyes.

“I’ll skin you and make boots out of your hide, snake, before you even touch me,” Atlas snarled, and the Blood laughed as she wiggled the sword against Atlas’s neck to remind her of the position, she was in. Atlas didn’t have time to shoot back a reply as a dagger flew past her cheek and embedded itself into the Blood. The Blood stumbled back, her blade dropping from her hand and Atlas’s throat as she grabbed the hilt of the jeweled dagger in an attempt to pull it out of her flesh.

Before Atlas even thought she tackled the Snake’s Servant to the white marbled ground, nobles gasped and screamed before they were forced under control again. TIme seemed to slow for Atlas as silver plated armor began piecing itself together to fit Atlas’s body. The hideous reddish orange dress now carefully hidden under silver and black armor. Time quickened and again as Atlas collided with the Blood’s body and they slammed onto the ground with a harsh grunt. The Blood cried out in pain as Atlas yanked out the dagger in her shoulder, flipping them over so that Atlas now had the upper hand with the bloody dagger at the servant’s neck, holding off any advancing Sorcerer as they watched their mistress for orders. The jeweled eyes didn’t even flinch as she watched the scene, Atlas even though there was a bit of a smile on her face. “Let them go and I might spare your little servant, Snake!”

The snake snickered. “You wolves, never tactful, always rushing to violence. I have only come to talk. To give the courtesy of officially declaring war.”

“Our war has never ended!” Atlas yelled at her, the words coming out of her mouth, not her own. “It has been waging on since the Shattered Age, you Blood Bitch!” Atlas knew who was speaking through her, felt her eyes change from their chocolate brown to void black. But he wasn’t himself. He was a volcano, bubbling magma was slowly rising through him ready to erupt at any moment.

Atlas blinked and felt her eyes change from sclera less black to a normal brown eye. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw Altair being held back by a couple of Sorcerers, the Nobles behind him staring with slight hope hidden that they would be saved.

“Come and face me yourself, Grim Wolf, do not send your vessel to speak for you,” her forked tongue slid in and out of her mouth and she stared into Atlas’s eyes with almost as much fury as Atlas felt in her chest. But Grim didn’t speak again, he only used Atlas’s ears to listen.

“Let. Them. Go.” Atlas stared into the snake, being reflected by the pools of blood.

The Blood Snake opened her jaw in a smile, she didn’t move, she was so still that she didn’t feel real. “I will. Has the Grim Wolf told you how I took his eyes? It’s a good story, my favorite. But your history was lost when the Shattered Age began… How sad.” She said with mocking sympathy but stopped when Atlas dragged the dagger across Blood’s throat, she struggled in Atlas’s arms, choking on her blood as it drained for the large slit. Atlas’s gaze never left the Blood Snake, even as her disciple fell limp in Atlas’s arms. “Fine. Wolf, if you want to play it that way. I promise you that by the end of this you will be standing with nothing and then I will crumple you into dust for your disrespect.”

The Blood Snake’s tail whipped towards Atlas, and she was in its grip, lifted to the Snake’s eye as she was squeezed like a lemon for lemonade. Atlas squirmed and gasped in pain as the silver armor fell away in dust and she was left in a bloody dress. The color was at least better now. Atlas cried out as she felt her chest crack and break, the Snake laughed. “The Vessel of the Wolf breaks.”

Altair bared his teeth in a snarl as he shouted words that Atlas didn’t recognize. In his fit of rage, he threw off the Sorcerers and they flew backwards into the crowd and screams erupted as people pushed themselves further into the corner like the Bloods were diseased rats they couldn’t bear to touch. Altair swung towards the Snake’s tail and Atlas’s eyes widened as a sword appeared in his hand. Her cackling laughter echoed off the walls as she began turning to stone, it slowly moved across her body and as Altair’s magical blade swung down her tail came off before it reached the end. Atlas slamming to the ground with the bloody tail.

The world was swallowed by the dark water as Atlas’s body hit the ground and they were swept away into nothing. Altair fought to swim towards Atlas, his panicked mind focusing on getting to her before figuring out what the snake had done. He snatched her limp body, pulling her tight against him, his head swung around searching for the surface as his face started turning red from the lack of oxygen. He couldn’t find the surface, no matter which way he swam, his vision started dimming and he was forced to gasp and air filled his lungs… he was breathing. It was hard, it wasn’t pleasant, but air was filling his lungs as he panted for it.

He looked down as he felt cold iron wrap around his legs. He tried to kick it off, but its grip only tightened, and it yanked him down. His grip on Atlas tightened as he saw the expanse of nothing at the bottom, before he could even whisper the words of the spell, he hit the ground and instead of breaking every bone in his body he landed on what felt like his favorite dessert, Dream-Mallow. Atlas groaned on top of him and stirred but didn’t open her eyes as he sat up. He muttered a few words under his breath, and he felt the familiar hilt of his silver blade.

Altair and Atlas weren’t alone. Zale was there, getting up from the ground in daze. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the Findɴovel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“What-?” He asked groggily before his eyes widened at the sight of Atlas’s unconscious body. “Atlas!” He scrambled over to them, and Altair’s grip tightened a little on her and it didn’t go unnoticed. “Calm down, Elf, I just want to make sure my cousin is well.”

“Well? My ribs fucking hurt like I’ve been crushed by a giant snake,” Atlas groaned, and Altair looked down at her as she tried to move. He kept her firmly in place. “Oh, wait, I was.”

“Don’t move. They’re probably broken,” Altair told her.

“I hardly think this position will help,” Atlas grumbled, and Altair quickly made her more comfortable with careful movements. “Let me see.”

“You can’t see without showing off everything to everyone,” Atlas grunted as he moved her, and both Zale and Altair seemed concerned enough not to care about modesty at the moment. “I need the little dignity I have left after being crushed by her.

“Yes. Most embarrassing,” A voice drawled, and Altair looked up and his eyes met those of the Grim Wolf. “I honestly expected better of you after our little talk last time, Champion.”

“It’s not like I got a manual on how to fight a Goddess, Grim, or at least a summary of how to be Death’s Champion,” Atlas bit back, trying to move to face the Wolf but Altair kept her in place.

“I like her, Grim Wolf, she reminds of you when you were young,” A woman spoke, her somber face hidden under a veil, red hair flaring out behind her like fiery wings. The Lady of Scorpions. Lady of Revolution and Revenge. Altair had heard her name whispered under the breaths of many of his fellow assassins, he had even muttered it as well.

“The other Mortals have arrived,” another ethereal being spoke, she looked down at Atlas as she laid in Altair’s arms, her dark skin glimmered with flecks of gold. “Throwing yours into the fire as usual, I see, Grim. Her ribs are broken and bruised.”

She knelt next to them both and waved her hand slowly over Atlas. “There. Should only be bruised now.”

Altair put his hand over Atlas’s mouth, afraid she’d say something offensive to the Goddess. “Thank you, White Sun. I’m sure it feels a lot better than broken, right Atlas?”

Atlas winced as she sat up, knocking Altair’s arms away. “Sure, sure, whatever,” she said as she winced and grunted as she stood. “Bruised is better than broken, that’s what they all say.”

Earlier in the night

Laughter drained out of the Lucky Whistle along with the light, Idris stood outside, getting a breath of cigarette smoke. Breathing it in and breathing it out. He watched it waft into the air as he watched the dots of light coming from the castle in the distance. It looked calm, just sitting there, like a buoy in a noisy sea. Drunkards lay passed out in the streets, some of their friends or family found them to bring them home but others were left on the stone walks.

“Hey, Idris, break’s over!” His boss yelled, gone in a moment from the door. Idris put out the cigarette with the heel of his boot and walked in. Idris was instantly overwhelmed by the crowds of drinking men and women that looked at him desperately. Like he was nothing but something for them to watch and enjoy. Idris grinned for them, teasing them as he danced and sang and they booed when his shift was over.

Idris was out of breath and sweaty as he sat at the bar, the smell of salt and citrus suddenly overwhelming the scent of sweet alcohol. “Let me buy you a drink, songbird,” an accented voice spoke in Idris’s ear. Idris turned to him, first noticing the swirling, tentacle tattoos going up his arm and to his shoulder and chest. Sea-Bound. His air was long and he had the slight scruff of a beard with a tired face. He looked older than he probably was. But what was most striking was his golden eyes staring into Idris. How had the Pirates gotten an Aureus?

“I won’t say no,” Idris smirked, hiding his surprise.

The Sea-Bound held up a hand to the bartender. “I’m Esmer, my ship just came in tonight.” He smiled right back and the drinks were put in front of them and he brought it to his lips. “How long have you worked here? I haven’t seen you before but I haven’t been inland for a few months.”

“Just a month. My sibling and I moved here from Ravoryn not too long ago,” Idris shrugged, sipping at his own sweet drink. Esmer nodded and set his drink down, leaning against the bar and staring at the other pirates roughhousing. They were a scraggly bunch, some had black teeth, missing teeth, peg legs, tattoos lining every inch of their bodies, and some wore eye patches but Idris doubted that most of them had even lost an eye or had ever come close. The youngest was a boy of maybe fifteen to sixteen, he was the loudest of the bunch and was red with drink.

“I thought you sounded like the underground,” Esmer smirked, bringing his glass to his lips and wetting them with drink. “I heard it’s stuffy down there.”

“At least isn’t wet and salty down there, Sea-Breather,” Idris told him, slightly offended by the insult to his home.

Esmer chuckled. “Perhaps you’d like the sea.”

“Perhaps you’d like the caves,” Idris laughed, downing the rest of the drink and ordering himself another. The few hours into the night were spent like that, drinks and laughs bubbled in the room. Idris’s night began ending as he stumbled out of the Lucky Whistle, hanging off of Esmer’s shoulder. They laughed as they walked the street, their arms wrapped around another as if trying to keep the other steady as they wobbled.

Idris didn’t exactly know where they were going. He didn’t know if it was Esmer leading him or if Idris was leading them to wherever their destination was. If they had a destination. The only clear thought going through Idris’s head was how pissed Vale would be.

“Want to st-” Esmer started to slur before he was knocked into, Idris fell into the ground, skidding into the road.

Idris seethed in pain before he sat up, shaking off the shock before looking up to see what had happened. Idris’s heart practically stopped right there at the man covered in red, he hissed at Idris, going for a lunge before Esmer knocked him to the ground. They fought in a struggle as Idris clambered to his feet, his mind grasping at a spell, he didn’t know their meaning but he whispered them anyway, his mouth working too fast for his mind to catch up.

Idris lifted his hands as the words stopped spilling out of his mouth, just as the Blood raised his own hand as he fought Esmer off, a snake lunging from his hand or his sleeve, Idris couldn’t tell. A shot of ice came from Idris’s hand, he felt the cold wash over him before it receded with the icicle. Almost in slow motion did the ice splice the snake in two and hit the Blood with such accuracy it pierced his heart and went all the way through, pinning the dead blood to the ground and he hung limp from it.

Esmer breathed heavily as he backed up from the blood, sitting on the ground in a mix of confusion, fear, shock, there were too many emotions to count. Esmer looked between Idris and the Blood’s body before scrambling to his feet, grabbing Idris by the arm and pulling him along. The attack seemed to have sobered them both up better than any other remedy that Idris had ever tried.

“Come on, there’s never just one Blood skulking about,” Esmer growled, tugging harder on Idris’s arm. Esmer checked every nook and cranny as they walked to wherever Esmer was dragging Idris.

When the docks came into sight, Idris felt water lap at his boots. His eyebrows drew together as he looked down and saw rippling black liquid. “Esmer-” Idris started but stopped when he realized Esmer had stopped moving. They looked at each other for a quick moment and Esmer opened his mouth to say something before they were swallowed whole.

Pain exuded from Atlas’s ribs with every breath she took. She missed Quinley. Atlas even missed his lectures. Those long, irritating lectures that she always tuned out as they grated on her ears. The pain of a lecture was better than this shit. Teyla seemed better than this.

Atlas stumbled slightly and was immediately caught by Altair. She pushed herself away from him, sending the assassin a glare and he chuckled at her. He chuckled. Who was this man and what had he done with Altair? He was starting to scare her with all the apologies and caring he was doing.

The three of them were quickly joined by five other mortals, Atlas recognized two of them from the party, and another who had been about the castle. The Aureus girl was easy, her skin glowed and she looked upset. She always looked upset from what Atlas had seen of her. Then there was Lady Eden Stark. She was the torturer, Atlas hadn’t wanted to introduce herself. Then there was the other, they were tall, bronze skinned, and strong but Atlas had never learned their name. There was a similar looking man beside them, leaner and short, tattoos swirling up his stomach and touching his chest as his shirt hung mostly open. His appearance was rumbled and dark circles were under his eyes, with scrapes on his arm and cheek.

“Hey, maybe you should heal him and leave him with bruises,” Atlas suggested to the Goddess of Music and Light. Wasn’t healing magic? That’s Lady Raven’s thing, no? Altair elbowed Atlas’s ribs and she hissed at him. “I will stab you,” She muttered under her breath and he raised a brow at her, having heard her threat.

The White Sun simply smiled at Atlas, seemingly amused before a woman, her black dress flowing behind her like wings as she approached Atlas, her face serious and completely unamused as her hand went over Atlas’s ribs. Atlas tried to back away but her glare reminded her too much of Teyla and so Atlas stayed still. The pain in her ribs washed away and the Goddess looked into Atlas’s eyes, her eyes pure white like a raven’s.

“She tries her best,” Lady Raven told Atlas and Atlas nodded silently, her eyes staring in hers until she turned and walked away. Healing the boy’s injuries as well.

Next to him was another man, tall and sea-born, a pirate. Atlas hated pirates, they were lawless and found love only in chaos. Igraine used to tell her stories of how the island Shadowrend came to be, a prison that was taken over by its prisoners. It had become home to pirates since then, pirates that stole children and made them Sea-Bound. What was odder was this Sea-Bound had Golden Eyes. The Aureus girl made it no secret of how she glared at him.

“Atlas,” Grim spoke calmly, snapping her attention to him. She swallowed as she stared into his void sockets, nervous that he was disappointed in her. “I didn’t expect you to take on the Blood Snake alone, my Champion.”

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