The memories are hazy at best following this… I remember Kain yelling at someone. His echoing words skittered across my mind, “Which of you did this?” Alas, I could not even lift my head to see who he addressed.

  Obscurity clouded around me like a dense fog. I was only partially aware that he carried me somewhere. All else fell into the oblivion of my exhausted mind. If he spoke any further, I did not hear him.

  My next moment of clarity came as a shock, for surrounding me when I opened my heavy eyelids was a group of three women.

  I gasped, and they jumped back at my sudden awakening. It was the crone among them who spoke first, with a soft voice somewhat tarnished by her years, “Be still, young one,” she said as she gestured with her hands non-threateningly, “You are still weak.”

  Try as I might, I could not harness my voice enough to respond to her. My throat begged for liquid. I was ravenous, starving. Every muscle in my body felt dry and brittle.

  “Why would he leave her with us?” A younger woman with startling red hair at the crone’s side asked.

  “Silence,” the crone responded. “It is not ours to question His actions. We will do as we have always done. We will obey our Lord’s command, no matter how bizarre the request may be.”

  It was a raven-haired maiden who interjected now, “Then we must do what we can for her. The Lord asked for her to be restored, so what use is it to sit and talk? We must act, sisters, immediately. I will ask the others for their assistance.” She hurried from the room in a wisp of deep blacks and vibrant purples from the trailing fabrics she wore. As I watched her depart, the room came into clearer focus. Not so much of a room, but a chamber carved out of rock. Soft fire light danced off the walls from the burning torches surrounding us, and as my senses came back, I noted the soft cushioning of many blankets and pillows beneath me. The heavy scent of musk filled the air. One might almost choke upon its pungent aroma.

  The redhead whispered to the crone, “Is it true? She bears a marking?”

  The crone avoided answering the question directly, it seemed, “She is not one of ours. Ana, go prepare a place for this young one. She will need uninterrupted rest, being so malnourished.”

  “Of course, Hecate,” the red-head I now knew as Ana answered before she too left the chamber, leaving me in my muteness with the crone, Hecate. I must have looked terrified, and in truth, I was.

  “Fear not, child,” she cooed at me as softly as she could, “I do not know what lengths you travelled to get here, but fortunately you arrived when you did. Any longer out in those barren lands and we could not help you. We will do all we can. You are safe here.”

  There was little more I could do than look into her kind blue eyes as she spoke. I wished only for her to mop my face with cool water. I implored her through my eyes to let me die in some comfort.

  “Our Lord must be very fond of you to ask for our help,” she said. “I admit, it has been a long time since he was fond of anyone, even us. So believe me, it is in our best interest to nurse you back to health. He may look favourably upon us again.”

  A few moments passed silently before the raven-haired maiden returned to us, a strange goblet-like vessel clutched in her palms that threw the flames light in multiple reflected directions. She held it tight, as though to lose a single drop would have dire consequences.

  Hecate looked at the contents before looking back to the maiden, “Who?” she asked. The maiden looked up with eyes that looked sunken in comparison to my last sight of her. “Oh Vesna, you didn’t?”

  “There is no time to argue,” Vesna pleaded. “I will recover. I always do.”

  “You will bring your own downfall,” Hecate scolded as she took the goblet from the girl, “Lift her,” she instructed.

  Vesna crawled towards my weary head and cradled my skull in her lap to elevate me. I had not taken my eyes off the goblet since its emergence, whatever its contents, I would not complain; water, milk, or royal jelly. The only thing that mattered was that soon it would be upon my tongue. Hecate granted my wish by tilting the goblet toward me.

  How quickly I regretted my wish…

  The liquid was warm, thick, and heavy with the taste of copper. My reflexes acted upon themselves, and I spat the substance back up, letting out a feeble screech as I did.

  “Hecate?” Vesna cried in confusion. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “Merciful dead…” Hecate whispered in astonishment. “She’s never fed before. She doesn’t know what she is. Hold her tightly, give her time.”

  No matter how hard I clenched my teeth, the sweet, metallic taste in my mouth lingered, coating my tongue and the roof of my mouth. Slowly, but surely, the taste journeyed to the back of my throat, despite the protests of my tongue. I felt sickened and more than horrified by my predicament. What was I to do?

  How innocent I was…

  Like a spark igniting oil, an inferno suddenly blazed within me. In but a flash, I was no longer lying on Vesna’s lap. No more were the women staring down at me. Instead, they huddled together, cowering in the darkest corner. I came back to my senses to find myself standing, the goblet aloft in my hands, tapping the last remaining droplets pathetically into my eager, open mouth as though the very essence of God came from every meagre drop.

  In my fright, the goblet fell from my trembling, blood covered hands, hitting the ground with a resounding metallic crash. I gazed at the gore. My face was as wet as my fingertips. With frantic breaths, I looked back at the cowering women and fell upon my knees as I cried out.

  “No!”

  ____

  Days passed, although I slept through many of them. I lost count rather quickly, considering the passage of time was unobservable within these stone walls. The women who referred to themselves as Worshippers sequestered me to a single room. They lived up to such a title.

  Dozens would come at once, sometimes twelve strong, to admire and feed me. My presence spellbound them. They asked to dress me and style my hair. Others simply came to look upon the marking they had discovered. It was a tedious waiting game. Indeed, they were courteous and would assuredly cater to my every whim, but they hovered and clung to my meagre appreciation of their efforts. It surprises me now how quickly I grew impatient with such mortals.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Although, if it were not for their fanatic natures, and a small bronze idol they placed in my room, I may have dismissed my memory of finding Kain as a mere fever dream. He was real. I had seen him with my own eyes. So where was he now?

  “Stop staring, Ana,” I said, without looking up from my studies. I heard the young woman gasp behind me. “It’s rude to stare.” I returned my attention to deciphering the written texts of the few materials they classified as history. Undoubtedly, these were fables laced with propaganda if the artworks depicted were to be any interpretation. No matter how I focused on these strange runes, I held no capacity to understand them.

  “My Lady,” she replied softly, “Is there anything you require?”

  “No, thank you.”

  She did not leave. “Then may I be so bold as to request another glance?”

  At this, I turned, infuriated and annoyed by her and the others' constant requests upon me, “You have seen it before, Ana!” I snapped at her. Her eyes immediately became downcast in her shame, “Yes, I have a mark. You have a mark. Every woman here has their own mark. Why is mine of such interest to you all?”

  “My apologies, undying one. I apologise on behalf of us all. But your tattoo is so precise, so perfect.”

  I sighed in my resignation. To them, it was truly a marvel; every Worshipper, you see, sports a specific sigil tattooed on the back of their neck. According to their testimonies, the sigils represent which of the Lords the women belong to. My own tattoo matched Ana’s; and Ana, like her students, belonged to Kain.

  “Your devotion to him must truly be great, never before has anyone inscribed themselves so beautifully,” she praised.

  Her words meant little to me.

  “And yet where is he?” I asked as I rose and looked hard at myself and her in the mirror, “Why has he not come back, if, as you say, my devotion is so great? Why must I remain here?”

  “He has not requested you ye-”

  I slammed my fist upon the glass before me, shattering it with a scream produced by myself and the reflection. “Damn your insolence! And damn him too! I demand an audience with your Lord, immediately!”

  I am not sure which startled her more, my actions or my words, freezing her face in fear, with only her eyes darting between the twinkling shards on the floor before she composed herself, “I will… I will send word for you, my Lady, of course.”

  I could only blame my thinning patience on my reaction. I had not intended to frighten the girl, but in hindsight, I am glad I acted so.

  It was mere moments before Ana returned with news., “My Lady? He will see you,” she said. My heart leapt to my throat as she spoke. She continued, “But not here.”

  “Where?”

  “High in the northern mountains, far from here, he desires your presence in his sanctuary. An escort will accompany you.”

  “An escort?” I asked quizzically.

  “The favoured son of Kain will arrive before dawn.”

  ___

  I took little with me aside from my silken gown and a thick, hooded cloak, both of which I wore on that cold night. Hecate led me through the various labyrinthian passageways, guided by a flaming torch in her hand. It was only when we emerged into the open world that I realised we had been sheltering beneath the ground, and only a stone’s throw away from that same grand structure I had encountered.

  I was indignant. All this time, I had been beneath Kain’s very throne room.

  “He is here,” Hecate whispered, luring my attention away. I followed her gaze.

  A lone horseman sat atop his mount, shrouded in the darkness of night, it surprised me that Hecate could see him at all at such a distance.

  At last, I thought. Perhaps now I would have answers. But first…

  “Hecate, I thank you and the Sisterhood for your hospitality. You have been most generous. Is there anything you would wish of me before my departure?”

  Hecate clutched to her own robe tightly to stave off the icy breeze. “My Lady, I only ask that you remind our Lord that we are still here. We have not been called to his company for so long… we miss him so.”

  “I will inform him of your words.” I spoke no more to her and proceeded towards the figure within the darkness.

  I kept my back straight and my head up. I would present myself with strength before this man. The large hood hung partially over my face, and I was glad for the concealment of both my features and perhaps my clearly frightened eyes.

  He too hid his face. We might have been mirror images of one another had it not been for his stature over my slight build. The ebony stallion on which he sat pawed impatiently at the dusty ground and huffed at my approach. The rider held the reins loosely and barely looked at me.

  “You are my escort?” I enquired.

  “You are the package I am ordered to deliver?” he responded.

  Package? How insulting. “I suppose I am.”

  His fists clenched the reins a little tighter as he turned his hidden face towards me. Cast in shadow, I could only make out the sharp angles upon a firm jawline. “Remove your hood,” he ordered. “Let me see what it is that Kain wants so urgently.”

  Indignantly, I obeyed, but I would not give him the satisfaction of eye contact. I would rather look at the impressive beast beneath him. We stayed in this ambient silence while he looked at me.

  At last he spoke, “I will take you to him, on one condition.”

  “Which is?” I asked without turning to him.

  “Payment. A kiss from the maiden Kain has already laid claim to.”

  I turned my eyes to him with a hardened stare, “You are too forward, son of Kain, and I belong to no one. Not man nor God. If you are to be so insulting, I would rather make my own way to him.” I turned to walk away from him, and I heard his low chuckle.

  “You will not last five minutes on your own.”

  “I have already crossed this terrain once without incident.” I responded. I stood firm as I heard the sound of hooves drawing near.

  “And you were fortunate to do so,” he said as he crossed my path, bringing his mount to face me and expertly persuaded the horse to walk backwards as I continued on, “You have neither the experience, nor the evolution to cross these lands. Many of the fledglings have turned feral. They would tear you to pieces, no matter who has laid claim to you.”

  I came to a halt. The stallion did the same.

  “Then, I suggest you deliver me safely to him. Payment or no.” I strode around the side and the prospect of the climb suddenly disillusioned me. I paused awkwardly.

  “You do know how to ride, yes?” the rider asked sarcastically.

  “I know!... It’s just been a long time.” I lied, not wanting to appear foolish. If I had ever ridden a horse before, I had no memory of doing so.

  The rider leant forward, extending his hand towards me. Although I know that the sight of three flexing claws instead of fingers should have horrified or alarmed me, I was bizarrely not stricken so. I took hold of his hand, and with no effort, it seemed on his part; he lifted me to sit ahead of him. With one clawed hand, he wasted no time in gripping my waist and pulling me close. He leant into me, and I felt his warm breath against my ear.

  “My name is Raziel. Now hold tight, my Lady.” Although I could not see it, I knew he smiled as he said that.

  _____

  We rode at great speed across the barren lands. The horse was obviously of impeccable breeding; built both for speed and endurance. There was truly little to take in aside from mountainous ranges and seemingly empty horizons, which grew lighter as the sun began to rise in the east. The colours of dawn emerged in the sky, but it did little to bring vibrancy to the dry land on which we rode. I did however, notice the sudden drop in temperature. No markers indicated a change in the landscape, but a very light covering of snow was evident upon the ground.

  Raziel brought his steed to a halt just before making contact with the delicate snowflakes that descended.

  “Put your hood up,” he ordered. “This far north, the elements will be harsh on someone as young as you.”

  I complied without question.

  The land ahead was as dead as what we left behind. I took a moment to reposition myself as I focused on what lay northwards. Even with my enhanced vision, I could see nothing beyond the threatening blizzard that raged ahead of us. I gulped inaudibly and hugged my cloak tight.

  “Dammit!” Raziel exclaimed, “We must make haste!”

  “Why?”

  He pointed towards the rising sun, just beginning to appear in the distance, “The clouds will do us no favours with these strong winds. I need you to cover yourself completely.”

  I felt his body shift, and within a moment, he had thrown his own cloak over my head. I went to protest his actions, but before I could even speak he yelled a command and the horse bolted under us towards the swirling mists of snow.

  Truthfully, I held on for dear life, and was glad he held me just as tightly. I could not even speak, so tied was my tongue in fear. The horse’s muscles bulged and strained beneath us, its heavy breaths leaving its body in a thick smoky vapour.

  The sun revealed itself, casting a beaming ray of light towards us. Raziel cried out his commands over and over. I could pay them no heed, for the sunlight touched upon me, and I felt the heat, uncomfortably hot, turning to acid like burning. I took a horrified glance at the burning orb rising with me as its point of focus. The pain addled my brain, my eyes. I cried out Raziel’s name as I fell into the chaos of suffering the daylight brought.