Crimson and Gold

Saria landed quietly on the balcony. Her steps haste, yet utterly quiet.

The night was exceptionally dark with the moon covered by a thick layer of clouds, immersing the room in complete darkness.

It didn’t bother Saria at all. She knew the layout like the back of her hand.

With confident steps, she approached the lavish bed and placed the letter on the empty pillow.

Her gaze swept one more time over Lysandra’s sleeping face.

She knew it was dangerous to show up in person. Everything she did so far was to ensure the safety of both of them, but tonight she couldn’t resist.

Before dawn, she had to be on the road. Father had sent her on another mission. This one further and taking much longer than usual.

She was heading to Faolán. Her task?

To kill the Crowned Prince and deliver the sacred necklace of their Goddess back to Sekaris.

The mission in itself was dangerous, but there was also this unpleasant feeling in her gut, telling her that there was more to it.

She felt that from now on, her life wouldn’t be the same.

Driven by a selfish urge to see Lysandra one more time, she didn’t leave the letter in their usual spot by the shrine. Instead, she risked everything and delivered it personally.

Forcing herself to look away, Saria turned around and started living.

“Wait,” Lysandra’s voice reached her as she was about to step out on the balcony.

Saria froze in place. She dared not move. She dared not turn around, too afraid that she wouldn’t be able to leave.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” the Princess asked.

Saria nodded slightly, too afraid to speak.

The silence between them became oppressive, the seconds stretched unbearably under the weight of anticipation.

“Thank you.” She heard finally. “For helping me.”

Lysandra’s voice was gentle and filled with genuine gratitude. It granted her anxious heart an amnesty and ignited a spark within it that threatened to turn into a blazing flame at any moment.

Saria didn’t dare to linger any longer.

She left Lysandra with only a small nod before rushing down from the balcony and away from the Palace as if the Darkness itself was chasing her.

However, no matter how fast she ran, she couldn’t escape from the feelings budding within her.

***

The world swirled again.

Images stretched and contorted. Twisted, bent, rushed past, and jumped around.

The next time Saria’s vision got clear, she was rushing through stone hallways.

There were two other people with her, members of Sekaris she was designated to team up with during this mission.

Running closely behind them, Saria could hear the curses hurled through their labored breath. They were hoping to finish the job fast and return to Aelius earlier than anticipated, hoping to win Father’s approval.

Instead, not only did their target already anticipate the ambush, survive what was supposed to be a killing blow, but he was also now making them chase him all over the castle.

The assassins were close to collapsing from exhaustion when they finally caught him.

“All that running and it only led you to a dead end,” one of the men mocked as he and his companions blocked the entrance to the small chamber.

“Son of a bitch!” The other one spat viciously and unsheathed his sword. “I’ll make you pay for having me run like that.”

At the opposite side of a small, underground chamber was a tall man. His broad shoulders slumped as he leaned against the wall.

Blood was seeping through his fingers, pressing at the wound in his side. Being a shapeshifter, he should have been healed by now, yet he could feel his strength wearing down with every second.

He took a few deep breaths, then pushed himself to stand up straight.

With his free hand, he swept his long brown hair to the back, revealing a handsome face with a strong jawline, straight nose, and well-defined cheekbones.

He let out a hearty laugh, startling the two assassins. “Gentlemen, a bit of exercise is good for you. Don’t tell me that little jog was too much for you. After all, I was just warming up.” The last part of his sentence was almost unrecognizable as his voice turned into a low, threatening, inhuman growl.

The canine teeth in his mouth elongated, his facial features distorted.

His bright green eyes lit up as they locked onto his prey.

“Quick! Attack before he shif—” the command died in the assassin’s throat, pierced by the blade that lodged directly in his main artery.

Before he could even realize where the attack came from, the dagger slashed in an arch, paying no heed even to the bones in its way.

By the time his lifeless body hit the ground, the corpse of his companion had already started getting cold.

Saria wiped the blood off her daggers against her trousers, but didn’t sheath them.

“That was… Unexpected.” Ferghal returned to his human form while keeping his stance combat-ready. “I’ll take the liberty to assume that you were behind the message that warned me about the ambush?”

Saria didn’t answer.

“I’ll take this as a yes,” Ferghal smiled. “Do you mind telling me why you are helping me?”

The question was met with silence once more.

“Not very talkative, are you?” the man mused.

“The Princess doesn’t want you dead,” Saria said suddenly. “Since Lysandra finds your life valuable, then I won’t take it.”

Ever since she started helping the Princess, Saria learned quite a bit about the connections she had and the people she was working with. She knew that one of those people was Ferghal, the Faolán Crowned Prince and soon-to-be king.

Having an ally of this caliber was definitely an asset for Lysandra. Especially, in case she ever had to leave Aelius to save herself from Loukios.

That was why Saria sent out the message to warn him about the ambush. She was hoping to avoid the confrontation altogether. Unfortunately, by the time he saw it, it was already too late. At least it was enough to help him prevent instant death.

Now, however, Saria reached the point when she could no longer play for both sides. Her loyalty was being tested, and she had to make a decision where it would lie.

As much as she feared that moment, in truth, she had made the decision a long time ago.

Hearing the Princess’s name being mentioned, Ferghal raised his eyes to Saria. “So you are the one helping her from the shadows.”

“Yes.”

“Does she know you are a part of Sekaris?”

“No.”

Ferghal chuckled. “Well… Lysandra does know how to find friends in the most unexpected places,” he said, then coughed up another portion of blood. “It does make things easier, though.”

The man reached under the collar of his armor and took out the necklace hidden under it.

“Take this to Lysandra. Faolán is no longer safe for it, there are people within the court who are conspiring against the Crown and my Goddess.” Ferghal pushed the heavy moonstone pendant in Saria’s hand. “You must not allow it to fall into the wrong hands, otherwise we’ll all be doomed. Aelius, Faolán, you, me, Lysandra… Nowhere will be safe.”

Saria looked at the necklace. The beautiful moonstone, emitting a faint hum of magic, the figures of a wolf and a fox carved in silver. Knowing its importance, the pendant suddenly grew heavy in her hand.

Pushing all doubts aside, she put it on and—just like Ferghal before—hid it under her armor.

“What about you?” she asked, looking at the deep wound in his side. “If you don’t find a way to stop the bleeding soon, you’ll die.”

“Don’t worry about me. This isn’t enough to kill a shapeshifter, I assure you,” Ferghal said proudly.

Using the opportunity that the coughs had finally stopped, he dragged himself to the wall at the end of the chamber and pressed his hand to a seemingly random brick.

The air around them noticeably cooled down, and a web of frosting sprawled from his palm.

A light flashed from the cracks between the bricks, and in the blink of an eye, a passage opened.

“Tell Lysandra I’ll find her once it’s over,” he said, stopping at the entrance to the tunnel to look at Saria once more. “And… thank you.”

***

Saria slammed the door to her room shut, then immediately started going through all of her things.

The Faolán’s necklace was already hidden by a spell she cast, now she only had to finish the second part of the plan.

Paying no attention to the mess she was creating, she emptied the drawers in her nightstand, quickly scanning through their contents before moving to the next storage.

“Not this… That won’t do either… Come on, where the hell is it?” she muttered to herself as she kept rummaging through the various trinkets she had accumulated over the years.

Outside her room, faint sounds of rushed footsteps echoed through the hallway.

Knowing she was running out of time, beads of sweat appeared on her forehead.

“Secure all the exits. Make sure she doesn’t get away.” Voices sounded closer and closer.

Finally, among the pile of random pieces of jewelry, she found what she was looking for.

The silver necklace was roughly the same size and weight as Ferghal’s amulet, and it was made mostly out of the same material. It was a perfect transmutation target.

Wasting no more time, Saria grasped the necklace tightly and recited the spell.

Nothing happened.

She tried again, this time slower and more careful.

No reaction again.

Hearing the voices and footsteps right outside her door, her scalp went numb with fear.

She took a deep breath and recited the spell one more time.

As the last word sounded, a golden sigil of transmutation flashed before her. The necklace in her hand was enveloped in a bright golden light.

“Stop! Don’t move!” The door to her room was kicked open, and a group of armed Sekaris stormed inside.

Two of them immediately seized her, and the third grabbed the necklace out of her hand.

“Sister, look. She was trying to hide it.” The girl passed the item to the woman standing in the doorway.

Her dark red hair flowed down to her waist in perfectly groomed straight strands. Her cold, black eyes were as empty as ever, contrasting with her alabaster white skin and pale pink lips.

With her expressionless face and stiff movements, she looked more like a porcelain doll than a human.

She gazed at the necklace in her hand. The moonstone locked in the silver frame shimmered vigorously in the light of torches, making it seem as if the silhouettes of the two animals around it were actually moving.

Seeing her caress the necklace with her thumb, Saria clenched her jaw. “Hilde, you don’t have to do this. Please.”

Hilde raised her eyes. “You disobeyed Father and killed your Brothers. As your Sister and your Teacher, it is my duty to make sure you receive your punishment.”

“Then take me, but don’t give him the necklace,” Saria pleaded, still locked in the iron grip of her comrades. “You can’t give him the necklace.”

The Teacher’s gaze returned to the pendant in her hand. Her eyes, black as the void, stared at it blankly as her finger kept brushing against the moonstone.

Saria blinked a few times, fighting the stinging caused by the sweat that fell into her eyes.

“It’s real,” Hilde said all of a sudden. “Take her to the Repentance Chamber and notify Father.”

***

The Repentance Chamber was a cylindrical room, roughly four meters in diameter. There was only one door leading to it, and the only light source came from the opening in the center of its domed roof.

In the middle of the cold stone floor was a round metal drain, with a silhouette of a serpent carved on its surface.

Atop the metal cover, a robust wooden chair was placed.

Even if Saria never saw what was taking place in that room, its purpose was more than clear from the setup.

She was roughly thrown on the chair, and her arms and legs were seized in the iron shackles.

She looked at the man standing in the shadow on the opposite end of the room.

The stream of white moonlight pouring down on her from the opening in the ceiling made it difficult for her to see. It didn’t stop her, however, from sensing his rotten aura.

“You disappoint me, Daughter,” the man, who demanded to be called ‘Father’, spoke from the shadows.

His usually emotionless voice carried a hint of disdain.

“I gave you everything,” he continued. “Home. Family. Purpose…” Father emerged from the shadows and stood before Saria, just on the fringe of the light.

Close enough for her to see the same serpent mask that had been haunting her dreams for as long as she could remember.

“Yet you threw it all away. Ruined your potential, your future. And for what?” he asked. “For a woman that’s as good as dead? For love?”

Saria rolled her eyes. Now that the truth was out, she had no longer any patience left to pretend. “Spare me,” she groaned. “You want to kill me, then just do it. I’d rather drop dead this instant than hear one more of your delusional speeches.”

Under the mask, the corner of Father’s lips twitched before curving into a wry smile.

“Kill you?” He tilted his head in puzzlement. “No. Why would I kill you?”

The heart in Saria’s chest tightened from anxiety. She watched the man circle her around, then stop behind her, out of her sight.

“You should know by now, dear Daughter, that there are fates much worse than death.” She heard Father’s icy, ominous voice right next to her ear.

For a moment, the only sound the chamber belonged to the distant noises of the sewer system running right under their feet.

“I am not the cruel man you take me for, though,” he said, circling her once more. “I will give you a chance to prove the strength of your feelings.”

If she never knew who he was, perhaps Saria would have a glimpse of hope in that moment. Being one of his underlings for so many years, however, left her more disturbed than if he simply started torturing her.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, watching him carefully.

Father moved closer and leaned over to look her in the eye. Saria stared into the pitch-black holes in the mask, wondering if there was even a face on the other side of it.

“See if you can find her without your memories or your mind. See if she’ll take you in, even if you’re nothing more than a hollowed shell.”

Saria’s eyes widened, but she was never given a chance to react.

Father raised his hand, and in the next moment, crimson tendrils shot out of it, latching to Saria, digging into her skin, wrapping around her mind.

The pain was unbelievable.

As if her very being was being torn apart from the inside.

Her senses fractured, her thoughts broke apart, shredded by the bloody whirlwind inside her head.

Her memories started flashing before her eyes, as they were ripped to pieces, burned, destroyed by Father’s power.

The little wooden cottage where she grew up.

The faces and laughs of her childhood friends.

The night her mother died.

Her failed kill.

Her doubts.

Lysandra.

Every single image appeared before her just to burn and turn to ash.

No matter how much she fought to cling to those memories, they still succumbed to the overwhelming power wreaking havoc in her mind.

The loss of each one put her in a state of unbearable agony.

But soon, she stopped feeling that, too.

Her sense of self, her very being, was ripped apart.

The only thing left was complete emptiness.