A/N: My usual disclaimers, all copyrights go to those who rightfully own them. Although this is an original story, I'm saying this not only out of force of habit but just in case somebody claims I copied (which I didn't).
The Masked King popped into my head one day and wouldn't leave me alone until I told his story…so here it is…
Cry from the Dungeons
For as long as he cared to remember, the Woods outside Cyma City have been his domain. The ancient twisted trees that arched to the sky had hidden him and his subjects well. But that couldn't stop his legend from spreading beyond. The Masked King, Powerful and Wise Protector of Cyma. The Masked King, Evil and Cruel Sorcerer. The Masked King, Childish and Mischievous Prankster. All stories led to the same result; those who entered his Woods were at his mercy. Otherwise, stay out.
And he was content for it to stay that way. Nightshade's curse made it impossible for him to be around other Humans without his enchanted clothing. Otherwise, they would die if they looked at or even touched him. He had given up hope long ago that his curse would be broken. The Wood Witch hadn't woken to give her advice. Some in his kingdom said she had been destroyed. As much as he hated it, this was the way his life was going to be forever.
That was until the day the woman cried out from Nightshade's dungeons. A woman calling herself Owl.
I didn't know how long I had suffered in Queen Nightshade's dungeon. Time had become a blur. All I had to look to forward to was the torture. I wondered if Lucian, my fiancé, knew what had happened to me.
But it didn't matter if he did or not. Nightshade didn't want anyone in her way. Even if it was her goddaughter who was also soon to be daughter-in-law. Not that we were nice to each other. She made her dislike of me clear. I kept out of her way for the most part. Except for when she tried manipulating me into making Lucian my heir. Once I turned twenty-five, the age of majority in Cyma, I would be Queen in my own right. There was no way I would let her have any more control over me than she already possessed. While I loved Lucian, the first thing on my list once I got power was to throw Nightshade out forever.
Whatever the case, I had been locked up and I had reached my lowest point. Slumped into the chair, bound, I waited for whatever end. "Help me." I begged to whoever was listening. But nobody was coming, I realized hopelessly as I lost consciousness.
The Masked King's Watch had been interrupted. "Help me." He heard her plea before feeling her pain. What was that? An image formed in his mind. A woman sitting in Nightshade's dungeon, bound to a chair. Bruised, battered, her spirit crushed. Greasy black hair swept across her face, the once regal pale green dress torn and dirtied.
One look at her gave her all the information he needed. Her name was Princess Vesper, but went by the nickname Owl. She was the last of the Johnson family, the ones who ruled Cyma after his downfall. Nightshade, having regained her power, had thrown Owl into the dungeon. The Masked King sensed the danger waiting for him…Nightshade was trying to use Owl as bait…
But could he really leave her there? Suffering the way she was…? No time. He hurried to his wagon, where he had a supply of numbing medicine and a switchblade.
You're going after her? Archimedes' voice came into his head as he prepared his things. His Familiar was warning him against it.
"Yes." Immediately, the Masked King cast the blocking spell. The guards looking out for Owl would forget their duties for a short period of time. Just long enough for him to cast the portals and rescue her. The line appeared in the air, widening as the spell was recited. He stepped through, ending up in Owl's cell.
The first sound I remember hearing was a switchblade snapping open by my ear. That's it. I thought and resigned myself. I'm dead. Nightshade has finally decided to be nice and off me. Hopefully it'll be quick and merciful although I doubted it.
At least I couldn't see what they had planned, thanks to black eyes.
The ropes binding me snapped and fell off. Free of any support, I almost flopped off the chair before I felt myself being caught. The sudden movements added more torment to my bruised and broken body. I cried in pain. "Easy. Easy." A male whispered in my ear as he let my head droop against his shoulder, lined with supple leather. The voice was too light and gentle to be a Goblin, Werewolf or Troll. But too harsh and deep to be a Faerie, Vampire or Elf. He was a Human. Must be the Garbage Collector, as they are known. Nightshade must keep her hands clean after all. She had enough power to get away with anything as she desired.
But this was the first time I had ever heard of a Garbage Collector being gentle to their victims. Must be the beginning of some sick twisted game.
"Here. Drink this." Something round and wooden touched my lips. A canteen. I turned away, sure it was poison. It followed me. "No. No. It'll dull the pain, make it easier for you."
"Death…quick?" It hurt to breathe, let alone talk.
"Drink." His voice was stronger, firmer, a command. What choice did I have? As long as I obeyed, things would be easier for me. I let the contents pour down my throat, gagging on the sour taste. Once in a while he'd move the canteen away so I could catch my breath before giving me more. It must've been a few moments, but believe me, it felt like forever until the canteen was empty.
In that time, I had stopped hurting. But the medicine also made me drowsy. I wanted nothing more than to curl up in a warm and soft bed and stay there forever. Not that it bothered whoever had cut me loose. "Hurry. Owl, we're running out of time." He ordered, pulling me to my feet.
Owl…? How did he know me? I wondered as I fell down, landing on my knees. For some reason I imagined my former governess, Miss Havisham, turning the shade of a tomato "Princess Vesper! Ladies don't flop down!" The thought made me laugh; I must've sounded like I was going insane.
Gloved hands tightened their grip around my elbows. "Vesper, we have to keep moving. They'll be here any minute." My rescuer was getting impatient and I was getting scared. How did he know my real name? Nobody called me Vesper. Everyone knew me as Owl.
My feet were finally stable. "Keep moving." He ordered and pulled me towards the door. I didn't move as fast as he wanted me to and my legs gave out again.
To nobody's surprise, I couldn't move. Or, more appropriately, I didn't want to. "Leave…me…" I was numb and exhausted.
"Owl, if I leave you here, you'll die." He was pleading.
"Don't…care…" I just wanted to go. There was nothing left there for me.
He knelt next to me. "I do." He whispered before scooping me up and cradling me. "Hold onto me." Somehow, my hands found strength and gripped swaths of his cloak.
He watched as she fell into a deep sleep. Owl clung to him, breathing as peacefully as a child. The potion had worked, no doubt bringing immense relief to her.
But he had to hurry. The blocking spell he had put up in order to sneak in would be wearing off at any minute. Now to go home…taking a deep breath, he thought the words in his mind. The blue line formed in the wall, as if drawn by a fingernail. The words grew stronger, more confident. The line widened, becoming a portal of blinding light. Home…he stepped through the doorway.
Like stepping through a doorway, they were now back at the caravan wagon he called home. Built in cabinets were filled with odds and ends of herbs, books and various tools. A smooth work table that doubled as a kitchen table and writing desk. A bed built into the back wall. An oil lamp filled with magic oil burned in a niche on the wall.
You're home, I see. The long haired gray cat sitting on the bed blinked as he came close with Owl. You do know Nightshade used her to trap you?
"I know, Archimedes." The Masked King said aloud as he put her into the bed. Of course he could've spoken in his mind. But it felt so good to speak out loud. If he didn't have his faithful Familiar and his subjects, he probably would've gone insane from the sheer loneliness. Being cursed had changed so much…"But what was I supposed to do? Just leave her there?"
You still believe in your people? Even though they were the ones who brought the curse upon you in the first place?
He looked at his gloved hands and sighed. "Yes, she didn't do anything to earn Nightshade's wrath." He looked down at Owl, bruised and battered by the torture she had endured. At least she wasn't feeling anything now. "And until I can find a way to ensure her safety…" Dragging a chair close, he sat down. Something told him to be by her. In case she awoke. "…Owl'll be staying with us."
"Hmm?" I slowly came to. My vision was still blurred. Every inch of my body throbbed in dull pain. Where am I? What's going on? Why can't I move? Somebody was sitting by the bed I was laying on. Someone wearing a cloak and scarf. Who was it? I tried to regain my senses. "Where…am…I…?"
"Somewhere safe." His voice…so familiar…why is it so familiar? A gloved hand traced my cheek; my black hair twisted itself around his fingers. A cool damp cloth touched my forehead. It felt so good. Was I sick? "Go back to sleep, Owl." His voice suggested. His voice sounded so fatherly…so tender and caring. When was the last time I had felt that?
Before I tried to stand up for myself. Before Nightshade took over and I was engaged to her son. Before I lost my family. Back when I was safe and warm. Back when I was loved. It felt good…the first time in quite a long time somebody was looking out for me other than Lucian.
"No…" I wanted to feel safe. To feel warm. To feel loved. I tried raising my arms up, but it hurt. Somebody tucked their hands beneath my back, sitting me up. I rested against his chest, clasping a bunch of fabric in my hand. His heart pumped slowly beneath his soft tunic.
Thump…thump…thump…thump…
The sound comforted me. Another arm braced around my stomach, keeping me upright. Gloved fingers wrapped up in my hair. A soft voice hummed a haunting tune. One I had heard so often before. But where? No matter…I was safe. That was the only thing that mattered now.
It was strange to feel wanted. He thought as he held her. At first he didn't know what she wanted. It wasn't until she put her head against him and clasped a corner of his shirt that he understood. She didn't want to be left alone.
There was a deep ache inside of her. He could feel it radiating from her. Alone. Frightened. Scared. Confused. Just like he had been. A need filled him. A need to keep her safe. A need to keep her warm. A need to keep her loved.
A slow burning flame had sparked within him. He realized as he rubbed her scalp and hummed a half forgotten tune. This was something he hadn't felt in a long time. It was frightening as it was rewarding. Knowing that somebody depended on and needed him…
You've fallen in love with her, haven't you? Archimedes remarked dryly from his post at the foot of the bed.
"No." The Masked King said, but secretly, he wasn't so sure. She was fighting back, clinging to life. He could swear that beneath swollen and bruised eyelids, he saw a spirit in the wide brown eyes. She wasn't giving in. She wasn't giving up. That was something to admire.
It also reminded him that he wasn't alone anymore…somebody else was getting up and fighting back just as he was.
I don't believe you. Archimedes blinked, purring. This is the most compassion you've shown a Human.
Owl's eyes closed and her mind slipped into a dream state. Her breathing turned into the familiar slow and deep rhythm. Her grip on his tunic loosened. The Masked King put her back on the feather bed and covered her with the quilt.
She wasn't going to wake up for a while. Time to return to the Watch. "Call me if something happens." He stood up and lowered the wick in the oil lamp.
Now? Just when I was about to settle down for my evening nap? Archimedes groaned as he curled up into a ball.
"Do you want to join me outside?" The Masked King threatened as he opened up one of the cabinets. "It's cold out, threatening to rain…"
All right. But you owe me. Archimedes grumbled.
"Thank you, Archimedes." He took a collapsible telescope out of the cabinet and headed outside.
It was cold out; he could just smell the oncoming rain. No matter what weather, he always stood the Watch. Cyma needed protecting. Even though his story was now considered a legend and Owl's family now ruled, he still regarded Cyma as his kingdom.
He walked to the Crown Tree, site of his throne. The large oak tree sat on a mound in the middle of the dark forest. The leaves were beginning to turn to bright reds, golds and oranges. A wind rustled the leaves. Wordlessly the Masked King pointed to the back. A round staircase began shoving its way out of the bark, spiraling up the tree. He stepped up, walking up the stairs until he reached the branches. Another set of steps formed, leading to an observation deck at top.
There wasn't much to it. Just a platform twenty by twenty feet. No chairs to sit in. No roof to shield from the worst of the weather. Not that making them would be any problem. He had become quite the carpenter in the many years since the curse took place. After a while, he had gotten used to the Spartan decorum.
There was a full moon out, bathing the forest and deck with bright light. Masses of stars twinkled above. Off in the distance, he could see the storm clouds slowly massing in the distance. The Masked King went to the center of the deck and overlooked his kingdom.
The woods formed the border of his old capital city, the trees having swallowed up the buildings as they crumbled to dust. Helped in part by his magic, the woods had swelled in size. Nobody went in there now. And that was just how he wanted it.
The lights of the new capital glowed past the woods. Times had changed. Back when he ruled Cyma, the lights rarely burned once it got dark. Now with the advent of steam machines, many could, and often did, stay up at all hours of the night.
Just as he was doing.
Further past that, appearing as a smudge on the horizon, was her domain. Nightshade. Her powers had grown in the centuries since the curse took place. The Masked King could feel her influence ebbing closer and closer to his woods. It had already claimed the capital. So far, he had held the consuming magic at bay. But he needed to stop her. The more magic she possessed, the darker she was becoming.
Which brought his thoughts back to Owl. What did Nightshade see in this young Human? Archimedes was right, the sorceress was out to trap him. But why Owl? She had nothing to do with her future mother-in-law. Or him for that matter. He would've sensed it, time had honed his ability to read others. She was just an ordinary Human woman. Nightshade could've picked Owl because the sorceress knew the Masked King would do all he could to stop her. But there was more to this. He could just feel it.
Her eyes…he saw the fight in them. The desire to live. Despite the hell life had put her through, she just picked herself up and kept going. That was something to admire…
Stopping the thoughts in his mind, the Masked King returned to his nightly ritual. A silent sentinel keeping a protective watch.
A purring noise woke me up. Where am I? I wondered as I blinked away the drowsiness. Something warm and heavy was sitting on my feet. I was lying beneath a painted ceiling. It looked like the Woods. Creatures ran amid the grassy fields and ruined buildings. A large oak tree was the centerpiece, a throne was carved into it, a man sat on it, robed in royal purple. A regal looking man with piercing blue eyes…
Somebody was sitting down next to me. A gloved hand took the cloth, now dry, off my forehead. So I've been out for some time…"Are you hungry? Blink once for yes, twice for no." It was the voice again, the one who comforted me.
My stomach felt as empty as a raided village. I blinked once.
"Ok." I felt my head being raised up. I cried, the pain was growing worse. "Easy, Owl, easy." An arm braced my shoulders, keeping me upright. A wooden rim touched my lips. Broth. Salty, clear, delicious chicken broth. I wanted to gulp it down. "Not so fast." The wooden rim moved away. "You'll make yourself sick if you drink too fast." The wooden rim returned. After a few sips, it moved away before coming back. Before long, I had drained the whole bowl. So good. I felt sated. "Feeling any better?" He asked.
"Thank you. Who are you?" I asked, feeling stronger.
"A friend…somebody who'll look after you until you're stronger."
"How'd you get me out?" The only way he could've gotten past Nightshade's loyal guards was if… "You're a Sorcerer…"
"Yes. No more questions. You need to rest." A hand rested on my forehead. Sleep…sounds good…full and warm, I fell asleep.
The Masked King watched Owl fall asleep. Far away, he could feel Nightshade's glee; it was pulsating like the thin thread of a spider web. He had fallen right into her trap, Owl was the bait. The fight was beginning…and he only hoped his powers would be strong enough to stop Nightshade.
A/N: Well…? Do you want me to continue?