AUGUST 1744

A month was enough for Odessa and Exspiravit to create a bond so strong that they were attached to the hip. Where she goes, he follows and vice versa. A month is how long it took her to learn how to survive in a freezing forest. It might have been thirty days but it felt like three years. The days drew long but the nights were longer. A few nights ago, the soldiers from Esadom tried to ambush them but they were prepared. While their eyes were blind to the dangers of the world, their ears perked up.

Ravi ripped their skins from their bones and fed them whereas Odessa drove a spear—the one she created herself—through their hearts. It was a precaution to ensure there were no witnesses to go back and report to Hias Gaisser, Ruler of Esadom, appointed by Gideon Casteron, father of Silas Casteron, of her temporary residence in their forest. That would do more damage than good. In the month, Odessa stayed with Ravi, she made a promise in the quiet of the night, that she will train to the point her body ached until the day comes where she looked Silas Casteron dead in the eyes and made him pay for the blood of her people he spilled on Naelund.

For now, she clings unto Ravi's silver fur and scratches behind his pointed ears while he buries his face over her back. He is more than a warm blanket. He is her emotional support. It may seem dependent on her to hold onto him the way she is in a dire time of her recently losing everyone dear to her but she needs him. The same way he has been lonely for years. They are two peas in a pod. His family was killed and eaten by Esadomics many years back. Since then, Ravi is in the same position Odessa is in now. He is angry, ridden with grief and misses his family tremendously. Now, they have each other except their time together has come to an end until another day.

"You are the best friend I've ever had. I'll miss you, Ravi and don't worry I'll be fine. I promise." She presses her forehead to his head, looking into his green-golden eyes that shone blue in the dark. Ravi purrs and makes a sound in a way almost as if he could pronounce her name, already missing his first true human friend. He's already lost too many people in his life and to lose another is something he won't recover from.

Exspiravit, the most feared animal in the Udriles Kingdom, has slight abandonment issues.

"Bye." She whispers, blinking away the tears, mentally cooing at the sound he made. She plants a kiss on his nose, allowing herself to linger longer than necessary. Pulling her coat closer to her body, she treks towards Esadom.

There is a clear path with snow on either side that guides the way to the castle. She walks along the paved road, whistling a somber yet not so much tune of the Naelundians. It always starts with one family singing a line then everyone emerges from their huts and gather together to sing songs and play games. The large gate finally comes into sight with two guards and their spears crossed together to block the entrance between them. Odessa's head tips up as she looks at the castle. It is more elegant and huge up close than in a tree many meters away.

As soon as she is spotted, a guard stops her in her tracks. The white and blue Esadom flag with the design of a rough sea wave behind them.

"State your name and purpose." They puff their chests out and jut their chins up to display authority. Little did they know, she's spent a month in a forest that is almost below zero degrees and the only thing she had as a means of warmth was the animal they fear the most in this world. Their 'power stance' doesn't intimidate her in the slightest.

"Delyth Aiken from Swuybia and I'm here in hopes of being taught stealth amongst other things by the most cunning nation in the Udriles Kingdom." The lie of her name leaving her mouth as easy as it was conjured in her head. Her full name is Odessa Penteau but she can't say that or it would give away that she is from Naelund, who mostly has—well had French surnames. Swuybians have their Irish names; Esadomics, their Swiss names and Varusans, their English names.

They scan her from head to toe as if she is wearing a dress. Technically, she is but the point is, all they saw was a woman with a basket of clothes on her head. Not to mention, the type of clothes she wears does not say she is from Swuybia. Swuybian women wear more elegant gowns than the second-handed clothes she is wearing.

For generations, women are told that they have one job, which is to stay home. Odessa is going to show them how tired she is of following such standing. "Why didn't you ask the men back in Swuybia?"

"Because they are sexist pigs who think I should stick to babysitting, washing the dishes and doing the laundry. I aim for more. If you haven't heard, it is rumored that Obitus might come for Swuybia next. I'm planning to protect my family as much as possible." Obitus is the name Esadomics have made for the darkness within Odessa. It means death.

The two guards look at each other then back at Odessa—now Delyth—before laughing in her face. They laugh even harder when they notice the look on her face, indicating just how serious she is. She swipes the one on her left off his feet and jumps on top of him, removing the knife at his waist and pointing it to his heart. Snapping out his shock, the other guard moves to subdue Delyth but she is quicker and grabs her spear, aiming it at his throat.

"One quick move and you'll be choking on your blood. You may have misunderstood me but I wasn't asking. You are going to take me in and train me as your own. Am I clear now?" In truth, Delyth didn't have it in her to kill someone, but with the right motivation and drive she could see herself doing just about anything. She didn't care how long it would take her to be able to sneak around as stealthy as the Esadomics can; as long as she is a few steps closer to killing Silas.

Leaving no space for discussion, they take her to Hias and proclaim her reason for staying with them to him. He looks to be a man in his late thirties and early forties. His hair is a silk black with a few gray strands on the top of his hair and in the center of his ducktail beard. He seems average height, though impossible to deduce since he sits upright on his Throne with his one leg overlapping the other.

Hias raises his eyebrows and lets out a hearty laugh. This is new for him for a woman to make this sort of proposition. Along with him, a few other of his guards chuckle to themselves at Delyth's absurdity.

They may find this situation amusing but it is the opposite for Delyth. "I am rather insulted by your response to my motion, Sir. This is in no way humorous and for you to think so I might feel obligated to offer one of your men's heads as proof of my sincerity." Delyth is not an aggressive person by nature nor is she the type of person to resort to violence. She blames her malevolence on her being angry by the deaths of her parents and the rest of Naelundians.

Hias sobers up immediately by the audaciousness of Delyth's threat. He stares at her and the longer he does, the more he sees beyond the angry girl. He has seen those eyes before. The ones of those who are bloodthirsty for anything to distract them from the loss of a loved one.

He places his palms on his thighs and rises from his chair and marches toward Delyth until he is standing a respectable distance from the young woman. "Your motion is taken into consideration. Though, I will grant you twelve months to achieve your task. Failure to do so and you will return home to Swuybia as fast as you were to deliver your threat. Do not expect me to grant you any of my people to help you, your disrespect limits you of this benefit."

As grateful as she is that he doesn't turn her away because of her mistake, she regrets disrespecting him because now she will have to find someone in a number of thousands who will be willing to help her. Shouldn't be so hard.

Concurrently, Silas makes his nightly visit at the Dirty Spade, the only brothel in Varusa but a famous one nonetheless. It was regularly that Silas would drop by, even when Flavia was alive. Silas was never committed to relationships and everyone knew it, which was why the ladies would put on their best performance to score a night with him. Some tried to get impregnated by him, hoping that she would be the woman that would break the ice around his dead heart. Their deaths were proof that they failed, however it didn't stop others from dreaming.

The tavern reeks of its usual odor—beer and smelly men after a long day. Sandstone bricks and tree trunks make up most of the building's outer structure. The dim lights and dark atmosphere that screams nothing friendly. The walls are decorated with the heads of small and large animals as well as the rusty chains that hang the lanterns to the ceiling. The same chains that Silas has used to kill his few. There is one stray orange cat that wanders around each night.

Silas sits back in his chair man-spreading at a VIP spot with a whore grinding on his leg and pushing her boobs in his face. He smirks, satisfied by her performance and places a rough hand on her waist. She tilts her head to the ceiling and humps a little harder on his thigh. They were almost at their high, despite the show they were putting on in public until a drunkard bumped into him by accident, spilling his alcohol all over him.

Silas' jaw ticks and he pushes the girl off him, not caring to be gentle. He stands to face the drunk man, who is finding it hard to stand on his two feet, slobbering all over the place, spitting apologies like it was a prayer.

"I think my night just about got more interesting."

Silas orders some men to drag the man by his hands and feet back to the Lardel Castle. It may seem irrational but the drunkard ruined his night and his neatly hemmed suit. The villagers don't bother to follow him because they already know what's going to happen and have seen it before. It was not something one would see more than once unless you were mentally unwell.

They drag him to the deepest section of the dungeons and flings him in the cage where his three headed dog, Homer, inhabits. Homer is the three-headed dog Silas' brother, Ishaem, was to link with but before he could take the Throne, he died. Hence, there is no human soul attached to Homer which allows Silas all the right to take care of it and use it in situations like this.

What is your name?" Silas stoops to his eye level.

"Thaddeus." The man sputters, physically trembling as he keeps his eye trained on the dog who remains at the other end of the cage, baring its teeth at him.

"Okay, then. Homer, Thaddeus. Thaddeus, Homer. We might as well get introductions out of the way seeing as you two will become the best of friends." Silas pats the rails on the cage as a reminder that he couldn't get out.

"My Lord, I apologize. I never meant—"

Silas brings his hand to the man's head and pats his hair down, ignoring how greasy it was. "Shh. It's okay. I forgive you but actions have consequences. I advise you to say your last prayer."

He stands to his feet and wipes his hand in his pants and sighed. His gaze goes to Homer who was waiting for the order. He looks back at the pathetic man whose eyes are closed and his mouth moving at rapid speed, whispering a prayer to himself. Silas shakes his head and lets out a quick whistle which was Homer's cue to attack.

He walks out with a sinister smile on his face, enjoying the music of the drunkard's screams. He was right; his night did get better and he is going to be able to sleep even better tonight.

14/02/22

Au revoir...

Vote | Comment | Share