"Tell me, when did you first meet my son?" He asks, leaning leisurely on a dark, misty boulder. Asra keeps sobbing into me, entire body quaking with exhaustion and pain. His tears drench my shirt, silver blood soaking through his shirt and the ground. Asra’s grip weakens on my hand, his sobs slowly slurring into a half awake mess. I look up, timid but determined.
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ASRA
I pace anxiously down the hall, the flame and topaz etchings in the walls breathing out the rancid, arid scent of crackling pines, and burning plastic. My fathers voice still echoes in my ears, a threat of what would happen if I followed through with this. I continue pacing, despising the navy blue suit I'm in. The only real reason I’m here-is to see how Briell gets along with the Flare elves. The goddess is supposed to be a bit… much toward them, especially the heirs. The growing ramble of voices echos down the hall, reminding me that I have somewhere to be. The 15 tribal heads make their way down the warmly lit hall, leaving me to fall into step beside Flick, who’s talking quietly with his fiancé, Lagoon, the new head of the Nereid Elves. The previous head, Abyssal had randomly disappeared, the only hint left behind being a knife stuck in a door frame.
The flame lit torches flicker, and the feeling of being watched shudders through me. Flick and Lagoon pull their conversation to a halt, mouths snapping shut.
“So, still going through with the plan tonight?”
Lagoons drops an octave, as he slips his hand into Flicks palm.
Both turn and lock eyes with me, burning with determination, waiting for the nod that would kick things off. I nod lightly, and reach into one of the shadows, pulling my blade from them. It glimmers dangerously before I sheath it in my coat, hiding it.
“Afterward, we can go see if we can catch a word with Briell. Haven’t heard from her in a while.” Flick says in a monotone voice, unassuming to anyone who doesn’t know our plan with breaking Tango and Ember out of the Taverns before the Trial of Flames.
I nod, hiding a trembling hand behind the small of my back. Lagoon glances around, eyes narrowing as footsteps thunder closer, jarring harshly us from our hushed talking. He exhales softly as the footsteps take a sharp turn into a new hallway. Relief flickers across Flick’s face, replaced quickly with skepticism.
“We need to get moving.” I mutter, dipping my head as I signal to Lagoon to follow my lead quietly toward the servants' passage hidden behind a dark red silk tapestry.
We part ways, Flick catching up with the group, while me and Lagoon shade travel from place to place until we reach the Servant entrance for the heirs rooms. When we land, I find myself stumbling and about fall directly into Lagoon, mind foggy from shade travel. Automatically, Lagoon steadies me, pressing a hand over my mouth as voices drift from behind the nearest door.
“Mother, the instructors haven’t been able to prepare us well enough for the Trial.” Tangos voice trills, the little nervous clicking when he takes a breath ringing into the corridor.
An audibly painful slap lands on skin, making both Lagoon’s eyes widen as we realize the stakes.
“She’s in there.” Lagoon mumbles, his grip tightening around my shoulders, the hand over my mouth falling.
Quickly, I pull Lagoon into a deep alcove in the wall, clutching my knife tightly as the next words drift out, laced with venom.
“You will attend the trial tomorrow. It’s that, or banishment from your life here,” She pauses and a muffled yelp escapes someone else, who I assume is Ember, Tangos younger sister.
“*Understood*?”
“Yes,” Ember chokes out through tears, voice shaking like a leaf.
Briell’s footsteps shuffle back toward the door.
“I’ll see you in a few hours. Behave.”
A key turns in the lock, then everything goes still except for Ember’s low, muffled sob. We slip into the room, deathly silent. My skin feels cold, and a bit paler than normal.
It’s fine.
Tango glances over, eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed slightly. He’s kneeling beside Ember, who’s just stopped sobbing.
“Are you hurt?” I whisper, voice dry as parchment as I edge closer, searching their faces for anything broken or bruised.
Both shake their heads and me and Lagoon sigh in relief. Tango gets up, and I open my arms, letting him pull me into a tight hug. He buries his face in my shoulder, his hands tremble ever so slightly on the small of my back, like he’s forcing himself to be strong.
Gods… he’s so broken….
Lagoon keeps watch by the door, knife poised, eyes alert.
“We’re getting you out, tonight.” I mummer, just quite enough so only he can hear me.
He sniffs and nods tightly. He unfolds himself, freeing me, and takes my hand, interlocking our fingers.
“Asra, your job is to keep them out of sight and safe, worse comes to worst take them to Pythos.”
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
I nod, tightening my hand on Tangos. The curtains are drawn closed, though the bright torchlight likely gives away that we’re here. Lagoon ducks back into the Servant corridor, and we work our way out of the room through the main door, Tango and Ember reassuring the guards that I was with them. The guards took to a slow paced, marching walk behind us, boots clashing uniformly against the marble flooring. We make our way quickly to the front hall, where we get the joy of seeing Flick and Lagoon practically on top of one another. They jolt away at the sight of us, a huge blush spreading across Flicks face. Lagoon on the other hand, looks hardly ruffled, aside from his hair. Tango blinks, the grip on my hand tightening as we walk by, nodding curtly to one another. After we pass them, a loud crash sounds and Tango shudders, hearing the guards recede and go to deal with the two gay idiots. Ember grabs my arm quickly, her palms clammy and cold. I weave into a shadow, a sharp pain stabbing into my stomach when we land in the nearest checkpoint, the Cells. I wince, and stumble forward, my knees going slack and about face planting before Tango catches me around the waist and pulls me up, my head hanging, breathing rapid and heavy. We settle back against a dark corner, Ember and Tango exchanging agitated glances.
“We can get moving as soon he’s done catching his breath.” Ember mummers, leaning back against the cold, stone wall.
Tango sits down beside me, being a very comforting heat radiator on the cold floor. My head hangs between my knees, slowly regaining control over my breathing. He loops an arm around my shoulder, fingers making little nervous drumming movements on my upper arm. After a few moments I heft myself up, nausea threatening to rip through me. Tango follows suit, letting both his hands fidget with one another.
“We need to get moving. It feels to… easy. It shouldn’t be judging how there’s a literal meeting going on right now.”
Ember nods, and pulls herself from the shadows, leaving me and Tango to follow. Our footsteps click quietly against the floor, echoing off the halls.
About a good twenty feet from the door, a single, metallic sound bounces off the walls, like a coin falling. A small, dark red marble rolls into the center of the hall, and both Tango and Ember freeze, joints locked. The hall is eerily quiet, aside from the muffled breathing of the three of us and the occasional claw scrapes. I reach for my sword, the black iron glistening in the dimly lit hall, and step in front of Ember and Tango, who are still frozen in place. I glance around, and stalk forward, bending the shadows to hide some of our presence. When I glance into a cell, I jolt back, met with a huge, black and gold Pileriean, a highly aggressive monster from the days before the gods. How is it even alive?! It’s struggled against the bars, long, foul arms trying to grab at the marble in front of it. It honestly, looks scared, a wild panic in its eyes. A set of hands grabs me around my shoulders, terrifyingly cold and then clammy. I whirl around, swing my blade in a wide arch, slicing cleanly through the neck of Briell, whose blood seeping through the wound before stitching back together within seconds. The rage in her deep hazel eyes is unmistakable, and it’s hard to believe that Tango, who’s so easily worried and lovable is related to this monster. Briell simply smiles, and flicks her wrist, pulling mutants up from the cells. How had we not noticed them?
She melts out of view, and look over my shoulder, to see Tango and Ember surrounded completely by the beasts. I dart into a dark shadow, and spawn back in front of them, a wide ark cleared from my Pythonian sword, the beasts screech in a rampage, pulling back. This gives us just enough space and time for us three to dash through without getting too close.
After a few minutes of running, Ember is pulled back by something, and she screams. The sound is so high-pitched, I’m wondering why I haven’t gone deaf. Her screams cut off with a sickening pop. We both turn, to see her being dropped by a mutant, a single dagger impaled into her rib cage. Blood drips from her mouth, which is still open in a soundless scream, eyes full of frozen terror. Tango stops in front of me, causing me to run into him, and land squarely on my back. The floor pulses with footsteps, dizzy with noise. He stares, too shocked to do much more than that. His eyes are glazed over with panic and such a raw rage, it scares me a bit. I look up at him, then back at the stampede, fear tightening its grip on my throat, choking me with emotion. I get up, though before I can get to him, a blade pierces deep into my thigh, and a hoarse, painful scream rips out of my throat, and I turn on my heel, feeling the blood spill down my leg as my sword makes a quick stab into my attacker. This seems to snap Tango back to his senses, because he grabs my wrist and yanks me so hard after him, my arm could’ve popped out of its socket.
In case you couldn’t tell, it’s extremely painful to run with a knife stabbed into your thigh. Tango has to practically drag me through the halls, pain blurring my senses.
Eventually, we reach the end of the cell block, met with a dead end and a right turn. Tango about runs us into the wall, and then tries to drag me through the rest of the hall, though the mutants are to close on our tail, and I’m forced to turn, pulling my blade once again my it’s sheathe. His hands have a death grip on my free hand, trembling with fear.
“We’re gonna make it Pyro.”
“Don’t call me by my last name.”
A soft chuckle escapes me, though it sounds more like a choked cough. I duck, and he leans back, the blade of a mutants sword grazing his nose. For some odd reason, that fuels me with more rage than ever, and I lunge forward, bending the shadows to my will and suffocating the mutants with their own blood. My blade slashes through what I can guess is dozens, before eventually we have a small birth of room, the rest being dead bodies. The adrenaline dies down, and I’m met back with searing pain, a burning sensation spreading up my side. I look down to see that poison from one of the beasts has dribbled onto my shirt, and has left burn marks on my skin. I look up from the ground, staring down at my shins, which are blood splattered, the suit I’m wearing tattered and defiantly beyond repair. Tango sighs quietly and pulls me up. Despite the comfort of his arm around my shoulder, there’s something unsettling about the now empty hallway. We make our way down the hall. It’s now, though that I take the time to realize that he’s wearing a pair of pajama pants, and a white tank top.
“Nice outfit.” I scoff, coughing heavily, a bit of blood flying from my mouth.
“Shut it. You’re the one with halfway burned off suit.” He retorts, scoffing, his tone shaken and still so shocked.
“Thanks. Love you too derp.” My voice grows quiet, getting the feeling we’re being watched.
That’s when I see why. The Pileriean is panting heavily in front of us, paralyzing me with fear. Tango blinks, and backs up, trying to pull me with him though, fails. Instead, I step forward, hefting my blood soaked Pythonian blade up, heart racketeering in my chest.
“Asra, No.”
“Asra, yes.”
Tango grumbles and waits for me to chicken out, which I don’t plan on doing. The creature inches forward, long spindly limbs ragged with old wounds and its veins pop against its withered flesh, pulsing gold. It limps forward, resulting in me stupidly letting my guard down. As soon as I do, it lunges forward, knocking the air out of my lungs, its crab like claws pinning me down by my stomach, slowly piercing my flesh. My legs flail uselessly, trying to free myself, my blade about to strike what I assume is its heel. The Pileriean tosses it out of my hand like a sack of potatoes. Its claw stabs harshly through my stomach, hitting the ground under me dully. A gasp echoes through me, pain searing through my entire body as my lungs struggle to inhale through the heart-wrenching pain. And suddenly, the wretched beast disintegrates, reducing to a pile of sand piled around me. Tango lurches to my side, scooping me up bridal style, my sword in his palm and lurches into the shadows. Pain explode in my ribs before we are consumed by the darkness.
