WARNING: Has gone to M rating for safety. Character death and decapitation. You have been forewarned.
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Chapter 7
It was hard for me to sit still as the news of plans were brought to me. The army Mistress had successfully gathered was spreading throughout the world, taking whatever they believed to be of use for their cause. Nitra promised that this would be over soon but I felt my body itch with the need to roam freely. Night was much shorter here on Asgard than Earth, so to avoid another burning issue, I remained here in the dungeons with Loki, my Dator.
My fangs lengthened at his name, my throat clenching in anticipation. This was proving to be difficult. I did not know very much about the ancient heritage or the rituals, but I needed someone soon. Nitra was against what I discovered but she couldn't dispute it. He was my donor, my soulmate, and nothing could change that. But this was beginning to get ridiculous. I didn't understand this, but I needed his blood constantly. I always wanted to drink from him. Even his name caused an insatiable thirst to grip me. But I had to get a grip. I needed to focus on my people, not my own personal want.
"Miry?"
His voice held such mischievousness that I had to keep myself from rolling my eyes. Loki was such a prankster, twisting words to fulfill his cruel sense of humor. But in the end, he was a genius. He held the title of Prince so well that Thor should honestly be envious. And yet, picturing Loki as a King seemed beyond far fetched. He seemed to be more of an advisor.
A snort made me look over at the chair he rested in, his eyes locked on my form. He read my thoughts and I could tell they bothered him.
"Stay out then," I told him, holding another book in my hand. I couldn't read the language, the words beyond foreign to me, but I marveled at the leather bound cover. It felt so nice on my fingers, soft and smooth. I couldn't bring myself to stop. It just felt…amazing. If it made sense.
My skin pricked with uncertainty as I moved, immediately going to the other chair in the room. I needed to get out, but I couldn't leave Loki's side. With my unending thirst, I was afraid that I would attack another Asgardian. And I couldn't risk them believing I worked for Mistress. We could never win that war…ever.
I heard a sigh that made me look up, my arms immediately going to hug my form. I saw Loki move then, standing to his full height. For some reason, he had been given his full regalia. His armor, clothing, jackets. Each piece returned.
You know father. He wouldn't want the great Princess Mirlanna attached to a fallen Prince of Asgard in rags or pheasant clothing…
Do not be so cruel or sure your father would dare assume such ideas. He may need you to defend your home…
This is not my home…
Blood does not create a home, Loki. Love and acceptance make a home. But never blood…
Those words did not calm him as the fallen Prince suddenly approached me, a finger pointing into my face. I watched as his eyes shone with fire, my heart pounding in my chest. The fury he openly wore was nothing compared to what else I saw. The pain and the fear he still held onto.
"You know nothing of what I am or what I suffer. You know nothing of the things these people fear. So do not feign care or knowledge to my own fate," he told me, turning away from me. I snorted in response, standing to my own feet. My arms did not move, my nails digging into my skin. I didn't flinch at the pain, nor when a few of my nails dug directly into my flesh, effectively drawing blood.
"I know more than you care to admit. I know your thoughts, your fury. And you know mine. You sense my own pain, my own agony at the hell I go through. I am the fate of my people. I am meant to be a brood mare to bring back the ancient days. My father doesn't truly love me. I am merely his legacy. His finest creation," I watched as his shoulders jerked, the words hitting him. I kept my thoughts calm, my emotions in check. Something I learned over the years.
"He will forever take credit for bringing a pureblood back into the world. His seed created another purebred. So do not tell me I don't understand. I know far more than you know yourself. Besides, at least you had a mother. Grew up with her. I did not know mine. In fact, I killed mine. So don't pretend your pain is worse than mine."
Silence welcomed us after my words, the world emptying of all thought as Loki turned on me. His hands were suddenly on my face, his eyes staring deep into my own. I could feel his mind in mine, the Asgardian searching my memories. His magic must have allowed him to freely take my memories and with our connection, it had to have helped. But the shock at his ability to do so frightened me as my eyes remained glued on his.
He searched all the ones that remained on my younger years. He saw my father, the elders, the rituals, and meetings. He saw the plans that were spoken for me, the hope that I would become what they needed. The plans for every possible male who could help create another child and the ideas of giving me multiple partners. Every detail laid out.
My lungs began to burn when he finally released me, looking away. I gasped for air, my body shaking. My arms stung, causing my attention to focus on them. My own blood began to slowly trickle down them, dripping to the floor. My nails had dug deeply into my flesh. I did not know I was causing that much damage to my form.
"I am sorry for my ignorance. I assumed I was alone in my own agony. I did not see yours," Loki didn't look at me as I gently removed my nails, hissing as my skin healed itself. My skin was still barely new, so it was stressful to heal over and over again.
"It is easy to feel alone in our struggles, Prince. I use to think that and even now, I am the only one. No one understands my situation, but we share the same agony," I took a deep breath. I needed to get away and with our sudden "heart to heart" it was definitely time. So with a slight bow toward Loki, I walked away. He called for me, using the connection we shared, but I pushed him away, making it clear that I wanted to be alone. It was dark out now and I was going to use that to my advantage.
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The sound of the waves on the shore seemed to relax my fried nerves as the moon of Asgard lit the darkness around me. I had found my way to the water, wanting the cooling comfort of the oceans. The waves would lap at my feet, surrounding them with a gentleness. It almost seemed like a touch from someone who loved you. And yet, I didn't even know what that was truly.
My mind filled with my previous words, bringing to light was I had unwittedly called out. My father, who could feel nothing, may never had truly felt like my father. He was my creator and he knew as much. But that was it. No love for a daughter. Just a saving tool to gain status amongst the ranks of those who were labeled great. And now, as the pieces clicked in my mind, I knew it to be true.
I felt something roll down my cheek, the wet feeling of a liquid causing my eyes to look up toward the skies. But no cloud greeted my vision, nor rain of any sort. That was when I realized that I, the one who swore to never do so again, was crying. I was letting my emotions get the best of me and the most prominent was sadness. Sadness at realizing my father did not love me and was merely using me. That I did not know what real love felt like or where to even begin. And that maybe…just maybe…I was meant to be alone all my life with men that were just chosen for me to screw, nothing more.
I choked, my tears rolling faster as my thoughts began to flood every rational thing in my body. Every reality was crippling as I fell to my knees, my hands landing in the cool sand. I wanted to scream but I couldn't. I didn't want others to know that I was hurting or in need of comfort. And it wasn't because of my pride, but they would never understand. Relationships among vampires didn't exist. They got their joy out of blood. But why am I so different? Why can't I ever just feel nothing?
I do not know how long I remained like this, on the ground, but it had to have been awhile because I heard the urgent calls of my guardians. The warning of a soon to be sunrise giving rise to the panic at finding me. But I did not answer. I remained as I was, waiting until they past until I was able to get to my feet, sucking in the fresh air in hopes to calm my tears. It was a futile attempt of course, as I made my way back the darkness of the dungeons, keeping my dark red eyes downcast from those around me. But I heard no noise, not even a whistle, as some had habit of doing.
A scream forced my eyes to look toward the entrance, seeing a body come flying down the stairs of the dungeon. That was when I looked around, seeing all the prisoners were on the ground, a type of mist floating through the cells. My heart slammed against my chest as I rushed to Loki's cell, seeing the barrier still holding him in. You would think someone would release the Prince of Asgard, but they did not. So using all my strength, I completely dismantled the barrier, hearing a loud crack that told me it was officially broken. But my attention landed on the figure on the floor, my heart continuing its frantic pace.
"Loki?!" I rushed to him, my hands landing on his shoulders. He was face down in the ground and I couldn't help as more tears rolled down my face, my fear that he was no longer amongst the living taking rise. But as I rolled over the figure, my hands flew to my mouth as I gasped. The man was not Loki but his guard. He was unconscious, a small patch of blood matting his hair. But it still made me wonder, where was Loki?
I quickly turned, rushing down the steps with a sudden determination to find Loki. If he wasn't in his cell, then perhaps he escaped. But this was unlike him. He failed to be free…twice. Why risk it a third time? But my mind could not find a reasonable answer. He must of went to find me. Maybe he was concerned.
"Princess," a sing song voice forced me to pause at the bottom of the steps, my hand freezing on the wall. I recognized that voice. One that belonged to an Elder….
My hand went to my throat as my body flew across the floor, fingers wrapping around a wrist and nails digging into flesh. I felt an arm go across my chest as I gasped, the eyes of one whom I would have never expected to see locking with mine. I could barely breath.
"Therisa?"
"I've been looking for you," her voice sounded wrong, almost possessed as she tightened her grip on my throat. I hid the pain as best as I could, but she continued to squeeze, just enough to make me think I was dead, before releasing.
"What do you want?"
"We only want you, love. Dead or alive, it doesn't matter," she sang. A hand gathered the front of my shirt, pulling me away from the wall before slamming me back again. I felt the sharp pain traveling up my spine, earning a whimper. She was torturing me, trying to incapacitate me so it would be easier. But she was stuck because my nails had dug into her wrist. If she tried to pull me away, I could easily rip the connective tissue, making that hand useless. And she knew it.
"How did you end up on Asgard?"
"Oh it was easy. Just find an unstable portal and jump through like the Dark Elves. Duh!" the childish tone was beginning to make me wonder if she was really in right in the head.
"Therisa, please, you cannot do this. Why do you want Mistress to rule? What is going on?"
Her eyes began to soften, the uncertainty in them giving me the chance to breath and release her. I could see the struggle as her arms fell, watching her suddenly shake her head. Mistress was brainwashing her people. It was obvious now.
"You must run, Miry. Quickly! I cannot hold her off for long," the voice of the true Therisa echoed through, her hands landing on the side of her head. I wanted to rush toward her but she stepped back, her blue eyes forcing me to stop.
"Listen to me. She found a power that helps her to control us. Not like the Tesseract but something far more potent. In exchange, she promised you as the sacrifice for her power. I do not know to whom. She never told me. But please, you must go! Now!"
"I cannot. We can help you. The Asgardians-"
"There is no hope for me. But do not trust the other Elders. Some willingly follow. Especially….especially," she cringed, taking many more steps back. I tried to approach her, to help but when she looked at me again, her eyes had changed. A wicked smile took over her features, that evil playfulness returning in a rush.
"Naughty naughty child. I will just have to kill you now," she crouched, her mouth going into a frown, "You know too much."
"Therisa, no! This isn't you. Fight this!" I screamed but instead, she laughed.
"Make this challenging for me," and with that, she moved, her form disappearing from the speed she was moving. I didn't speak as I waited for the final blow but instead, her face appeared before me, her eyes focused on mine. That was when I saw him, standing just in front of me as protection. And in his hand, a sword that had gone straight through Therisa.
"Loki?"
I am sorry but it had to be done…
My eyes slowly turned back the face, the one that was changing back to one that I knew. The smile that transformed the blonde bombshell's features was one of joy and peace. Her eyes continued to watch mine as she turned her head toward Loki.
"You are her Dator, are you not?" she whispered, her blue eyes locking with his. Loki merely nodded as she finally slumped to the ground, Loki removing the blade from her abdomen. He held it to her throat, waiting for her final words before giving the final blow.
"Please?" I choked on tears, trying to protect her. Therisa, however, shook her head.
"No…it must be done. I am a danger to your people, and my own. Miry….dear dear Miry….you must seek out your father."
"But I thought-"
"You're real father, Miry. You are not the only…..purebreed. The Ancients….live. Some of us protect and others hunt them….you must find him. He can help you….he…." her eyes fluttered as she held up her hands. From her wound was a sight I was not expecting as I fell to my knees. Blood flowed from her wound and only purebreds had flowing blood.
"You are an Ancient?"
"I am….we were not extinct…we thrive…in hiding….Now please, let me go….now…"
I couldn't speak as I watched Loki pull the blade back, Therisa straightening to her knees. In her final moments, she wanted to look regal. Her hands were folded perfectly in her lap as the blade swung forward. I screamed as it connected, the cut clean. Arms quickly surrounded me as I tried to rush to her. But it was done. She was gone.
Elder Therisa, holder of memories and emotions, was dead.
