Innocent Blood and Yellow Roses
"My mother used to tell me that in every dark shadow there is the light."
"Well your mother clearly doesn't know shi—uh, anything."
The Native American woman smacked her friend hard on the shoulder in response.
"Just listen, will you?" she asked, glaring over at Hwoarang.
Both of them lay sprawled on the grass with their hands behind their heads, gazing up at the moon as it rose languorously over Thade's forests. None of the townspeople knew the two were here, and it was these nights of solitude that Julia and Hwoarang enjoyed most. A soft breeze stirred, momentarily silencing the frogs' lullabies down in the creek, and the clouds growled a complaint as thunder erupted overhead, rumbling with the advent of rain. In the distance, a lone wolf sang a haunting melody that chilled the hearts of the two companions.
"Tell that thing to shut up," the redhead whispered half-heartedly, though in truth he enjoyed the sound.
"Did you hear me, Hwoarang?"
The Korean man closed his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Fine, I'll listen. But if I fall asleep—"
"—I'll just slap you awake," Julia finished with a little smile as her friend made a face.
"Anyway," she sighed, turning her gaze skyward once more, "there is light in every shadow. I think she was trying to tell me never to give up, to make the best of every situation."
'You have something inside of you, Julia, something nobody else possesses. I'm not sure what it is, but I have sensed it since your birth. Don't let anyone take it away from you. Be the light among the shadows.'
Julia recalled her mother's words, wondering what they'd meant.
She glanced over at her friend, who seemed to have fallen asleep, and shook her head at the peaceful expression on the Korean man's face. But she continued anyway, knowing that even if Hwoarang refused to listen, speaking her mother's words out loud might help her to understand them.
The silver moon disappeared as a cluster of dark clouds moved in to usurp the sky. Veins of jagged lightning danced across them and a second later thunder roared.
"Mom told me once, on a cloudy night like this one, that one day Elysium will change, for no matter how we wish it so, peace can never last forever. Darkness will always return to test its boundaries."
"'I sense change coming, Julia,'" the Native American woman murmured, repeating Michelle's words, "Shadows…shadows…'"
Closing her eyes, she continued, "And it scared me, Hwoarang, it scared me when my mother, the bravest woman I know, said that to me. She's probably just lying, but then again, why would she say such a thing?"
The sky was now pitch black and the steady hum of the frogs increased, urging the rain on.
"I'm not stupid; I know bad things are out there. I don't want to see them, but then at the same time I do. I want to see those 'shadows' and somehow stop them before they get to my mother so that she can continue to believe in peace and stop scaring me all the time. Do you get what I mean?"
Julia sighed sadly, shaking her head as Hwoarang shifted in his slumber. "Of course you don't. It's a shame you don't have anyone important enough to you to feel that way."
The first raindrops began to descend from the sky then, and Julia closed her eyes, relishing the cool wetness on her clothes and skin.
All the while, the wolf had continued to sing its lonely anthem to the night. She listened for awhile to the sound, wondering again about Michelle's words and about why Hwoarang hadn't even respected her enough to listen. Oh well. It was Hwoarang after all.
But suddenly, taking Julia by surprise, a strong hand moved to clasp tightly about hers. Turning, she noticed that the redhead was wide awake, perhaps had been the entire time, and his dark eyes were soft as he looked at her.
"I have you, Jules."
Present time, the road to the Gray City
The memory, which had occurred just two days before her abduction, faded from her mind as her captors gave her chain a violent yank, pulling Julia to her feet.
"Rise and shine!" one of her kidnapers snickered as he shoved her to a standing position.
It was nearing dawn, and the ground beneath Julia's body was icy cold with the remnants of the night frost. She had been given a flimsy blanket, but she might as well have slept naked, for the freezing breath of the oncoming autumn had entered her body nonetheless, chilling her sleep. Several scratches lined her arms and legs, and both wrists were bruised a deep violet from the iron manacles that clasped about them; her kidnapers had not been kind nor gentle when they'd taken her, which she had expected. Unaware of the magic within her, Julia had yet to find out who her captors were and why they had taken her; she did not yet know that it was this unrealized power inside her that had aroused the suspicions of Helize, leading to her abduction. Julia did not know many, many things about herself at this time. She knew simply that she was innocent and that these were, unfortunately, the "shadows" her mother had spoken of.
Julia Chang, nature lover and often cruelly dubbed by her peers as the "dorky little tree hugger," knew the land like no one else. Apart from being half Native American, Julia had always had a natural sense of direction built into her, and her mother, Michelle, had fed that gift by teaching her daughter the tracking skills of her ancestors.
And as she and her captors traveled onward through the dense, dark woods, Julia had no idea where she was going—but she did know exactly how to get back, regardless of where they took her. Her kidnapers had taken her freedom and her hands, but they had foolishly allowed Julia her eyes to observe her scenery. Even now the dark irises darted discreetly back and forth, memorizing the path, engraving the way into her mind, remembering each smell of pine and change in scent, studying each tree she saw, each creek bed and boulder…
She was also a skilled warrior, the best female martial artist and archer in Thade in fact. Repulsed by the idea of close contact when it came to weapons, Julia instead chose Gaia, the swift and silent bow and arrows over the sword or the staff; her only weapon for close contact battles were her martial arts, and for Julia that was enough. She and Hwoarang had been training partners as children and also into adulthood, and sparring with him as well as Michelle's teachings, had helped her to excel in fighting.
The cool morning breeze helped to wake Julia as she was pulled from the ground, and for an extra jolt back to consciousness, the man holding the chain to her shackles again yanked violently so that she stumbled forward.
"She's beautiful," one man murmured behind her, cocking his head as his eyes roved up and down Julia's figure, "It's a shame she's untouchable."
"Control yourself, Yaro. There'll be plenty of brothel girls for you once we get to Xerick," growled the leader of the band, and his steely gaze penetrated the man named Yaro. "Besides, Helize will have your head."
"Naw. Helize is too busy mooning over that creep Krad," Yaro sneered, "she won't notice. Besides…"
Yaro then approached Julia, bringing his face close to hers. "I wanna repay her for that bruise she gave me."
Julia smiled, noticing the purple and blue lump on the man's jaw.
"Then be my guest," the commander snarled, drawing his sword, "touch her."
"All right, all right. Relax, Boss. Just admiring the scenery that's all," Yaro said with a wry smile, then retreated to his place behind Julia.
Men like Yaro were rampant among the armies of the sorceress. Most were just vagabonds recruited from the gutters, crooks and thieves who needed a cheap thrill, or worse, murderers and assassins who needed something to do. Voira found them all, for the more crude and bloodthirsty, the better. Of course there was also the rare handful of mages, like Helize Vermilion, the occasional genuinely skilled warriors, such as Krad, and a few true loyalists, for instance Steve Fox. But mostly, the armies of the dark sorceress consisted of ragged thugs who simply held a grudge against society and desired to wreak havoc on Elysium's goodness.
While on this journey Julia had felt fear only in the beginning when Steve's men had suddenly seized her from Thade. But now, knowing that these men could only drag her along, knowing that they would not kill her (or worse), Julia no longer felt fear. She wondered, yes, worried, but did not fear.
She didn't worry too much for her parents or her people, for her kidnapers had, for some odd reason, left them alone (she was still unaware of the mysterious force field that had protected them). But for the past four days her mind had not ceased to worry for her best friend for she knew that right now he was scouring the land for her. However, she hoped that Hwoarang had, for just this once, remained his selfish self and stayed in Thade where it was safe. Unfortunately, although the Korean man didn't show it much, he cared about her and Julia knew, with a heavy heart, that he was somewhere out there looking for her.
After nearly an hour of nonstop walking, Julia and her band of kidnapers arrived in the city the commander had called Xerick. There were no trees, no mountains, no vegetation, just a barren wasteland; even the sun had abandoned this place. It was a rather boring city, for it looked like it had been drained of color. The massive buildings and whirring technology, though mighty and intimidating, seemed at the same time only a drab façade, the gray steel and crumbling brick giving the city a rundown appearance. Even its people seemed to possess a gray tint to their skin. They were a gruff people, weathered by a lifetime of labor and poverty, their clothes bland and shabby, and the darkened roads and alleys were the playgrounds for the local children.
Julia's heart sank as her eyes took in this dreary place, and she longed for the laughter and brightness of Thade. How could people live like this? What had happened to this city?
"Here we are, men!" the commander announced, halting his soldiers, "Fox said he would meet us here; he should arrive shortly. Tomorrow at dawn we will regroup in the plaza. As of now, do as you like."
There were murmurs of satisfaction and relief as the soldiers went their separate ways, some to bars and motels, and others to restaurants and brothels (Yaro being one of them). Julia knew then that this was probably one of the enemy cities, for none of her captors were ransacking or killing people like they'd done to her village. Realizing this, Julia decided she hated Xerick, no matter how much pity she felt for its people.
"You," the commander snarled, turning his gaze to Julia, "don't think I've forgotten about you. You're coming with me."
The commander, a tall brute with a scarred face, seized the chain that bound her wrists and dragged Julia through the trash-riddled streets, leading her to a tall, dark building at the end of the road. A few minutes later they arrived, and after ascending several flights of stairs, the commander and his prisoner entered the last room at the end of the hall. The room was large, with two beds set side by side with other random pieces of furniture scattered here and there, and the walls were white, blinding and void of the slightest hues of color. The only hint of coloration in the room was a bouquet of wilted yellow roses, their once flawless petals now tinted a sickly brown, wrinkled, crispy, and torn at its edges. The water in the crystal vase had long evaporated. Overall, this dismal place reminded Julia of a prison cell for the mentally insane.
"This is General Fox's room. He should be arriving shortly to greet you," the commander rumbled as he tied the chain to a nearby column supporting the ceiling. The bouquet of dead roses stood on a table next to the column, just within reach of Julia's hands…
Before he left, he uttered, "Don't even think about trying to escape. Just remember that the only reason why you're not dead is because Helize and Fox are interested in you. Otherwise…"
The commander merely laughed softly.
"General Fox is merciless; he has killed thousands, and serves the Dark Mistress as no other does. You will soon wish that I'd killed you, for after he has his way with you you'll no longer be the brave little wench you show yourself to be," he sneered with amusement, then slammed the door shut.
As soon as he left, Julia immediately yanked at the chains that held her, trying in vain to find a means of escape. After pulling with all of her might at the chain several times, she knew it was useless and collapsed to the floor in surrender, and had no choice now but to wait for this "merciless" General Fox. For the first time since her abduction she now felt the fear enter her. This man named Fox was one of the ones responsible for her kidnap, and unlike his soldiers, he could do anything he liked with Julia.
What does he want with me? Have I done something wrong? Why me and not someone else? Julia wondered, fear rippling through her body and clouding her senses.
The Native American woman closed her eyes, squeezing back the tears and the feelings of desperation and despair; she was trapped. Nursing her raw, bruised wrists, Julia prayed that Hwoarang would just find her soon.
The General's Two Tigresses...
"Tell me about your family."
Steve waited for Christie's answer, but the Brazilian woman remained stubbornly silent. She'd been strangely quiet for that past day's journey, and Steve's patience was just about up.
"Speak, woman, or do you wish to die?" he threatened, finally resorting to violence.
Christie glared at him, but reluctantly complied. "The old man you killed was my grandfather, and the other was my guardian and friend as well as my teacher."
She fell silent again, but Steve was relentless. "Tell me more."
Cursing him silently, she continued, "My grandfather was a Capoeira master and he taught my teacher and friend, Eddy Gordo, everything he knew. Eddy then became my mentor and passed down his knowledge. Occasionally Grandfather would help with my training."
"And what about your parents?" Steve asked, glancing over at her.
"My parents died when I was a small child. I don't remember them," she responded curtly.
"I'm sorry to hear that."
Christie snorted, but held her sarcastic remarks in check. Instead, knowing that she needed to stay alive, the Brazilian continued with her story.
"Grandfather was a kind, gentle man, always patient with people, especially with me. He loved me dearly and hadn't hesitated to take me in when Mom and Dad had passed away."
A faraway look entered her eyes, and soon Christie forgot completely to whom she was telling the tale and why. It was simply the joy of remembering the loved ones she'd lost, and a small smile formed on her lips as images of Eddy and her grandfather entered her mind. Steve noticed this rare expression of happiness and savored it. She was awfully beautiful when she smiled, and the blonde man remained quiet as she spoke.
"I remember once how he used to reprimand me for speaking too much English. He was the only one of us three who spoke Portuguese regularly, and in this way he helped me maintain fluency in both languages. He taught me so many, many things."
Christie sighed as the memories rushed forth, her smile widening. "And then there's Eddy. He was like the older brother I never had, and the guy always looked out for me even when I was just as good a fighter as he was. Eddy was your typical tough guy, but that was only a front he put up with people he didn't know, 'cause at home he was as soft-hearted as Barydians come."
She laughed then, jubilantly, genuinely, and it was one of the few times Christie would ever allow herself to do so. Steve felt his heart clench at the noise, and he had to momentarily look away; he had nearly forgotten the sound of mirth. For though she was angry and bitter, Christie still managed to radiate with love and joy, and having been cloaked in darkness and violence his entire life, the blonde warrior found this fascinating.
"The man loved flowers, just loved them. Barydia was rampant with lilies, poppies, and bougainvillea, and sometimes Eddy would just go out in the fields by himself and sit with them. When I'd question him about it later, he'd always pretend he didn't know what the hell I was talking about."
A lump rose in her throat then, and she found that she could not speak. Images of the good memories, of Eddy's flowers and her grandfather's smiles, vanished as screams of terror entered her mind, as a sword plunged into Eddy's body, as her grandfather's limp body filled her arms, the smell of blood invading her nostrils…
"You loved them very much," came Steve's quiet reply, and Christie was instantly transported back to the present. The joy escaped her body, and now there was nothing but the fair-haired killer before her and the memories of her capture.
No shit, asshole, she snarled to herself, but merely nodded in response to the soldier. "They were all I had," she murmured, gritting her teeth in an effort to curb the anger.
And I took them from you, Steve thought to himself as despair and sorrow gnawed at his heart. Christie's stories of her family had affected him deeply and Steve hated himself for feeling this way. He had killed so many families like hers so why should she be any different? The blonde man began to think that taking a prisoner hadn't been such a good idea after all. But his predicament was that though he knew he had to, he simply couldn't just kill Christie to solve the problem; he was much too involved now, much too curious.
Why must you be so damn brave? So damn beautiful?
He glared over at her in hopes that perhaps he'd grow to hate her…but when Christie met his glare head on without a flicker of fear in her face, Steve knew it was impossible. For a fleeting instant Steve considered apologizing to her for the massacre of her people and murder of her family, but as soon as the thought appeared, he dismissed it. He could not give in to such weaknesses; she was just an insignificant woman after all, and in the end he'd just have to kill her like he did everyone else. He was one of the men planting the seeds for Voira's future kingdom after all, and in her new world love was unimportant, foolish, and would "only bring weakness" to one's heart.
They arrived in Xerick a few minutes later and like Julia, Christie's heart sank at the sight of the city. While Steve's soldiers went their separate ways, the general hastily led his prisoner to the same building where Julia waited.
The Native American woman looked up as the door suddenly flew open and the blonde man, captive in tow, barged in. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, for due to her fear and the commander's warning, her imagination had created a very different image of this almighty General Fox. But instead of a ruthless, terrible brute of a killer, what she saw was a mere man, an ordinary mortal with calm blue eyes and a gentle mouth. He did not look like a murderer at all.
Julia then took notice of the woman standing beside Steve, noticed the rusted chains that bound her, and they exchanged looks of sympathy. Her eyes roving up and down Christie's body, Julia observed the numerous bruises and scratches on the Brazilian's skin, and the familiar fiery rage welled up within her once more. What had he done to this woman? What did he want with them? She wondered.
Without another moment to waste, Steve chained Christie alongside Julia then stood back to examine his captives. His eyes lingered on the Brazilian a second longer, then continued to Julia, the azure gaze peering at her in curiosity, and Steve wondered why Voira or Helize would take such an interest in a seemingly harmless woman. Her clothes were ragged, mud-smeared, and her body was weary from the journey and from the fear. Helize had claimed that she'd sensed power inside of the chief's daughter, but Steve doubted that this woman before him could possibly be a mage.
Cocking his head, Steve then noticed two white feathers woven expertly into the hairs at the nape of Julia's neck with tiny beads of turquoise. His curiosity got the best of him and leaned down to get a better look, his hand reaching out in hopes of touching the feathers. However, Julia instantly jerked her head back, and her leg lashed out, kicking Steve hard in the shin. The blonde man cried out in pain and immediately struck Julia across the face with the back of his hand. Fire erupted across her cheek and nose.
"Don't touch her!" Christie shrieked.
Though the pain burned her skin, Julia had not cried out. She refused to allow Steve the satisfaction. However, she had no desire to earn more bruises so the Native American woman could only narrow her eyes in silent challenge.
"Don't you dare touch her," the Brazilian snarled once more, fists balling, and Julia noticed how the blonde man's gaze flickered momentarily to Christie.
A long moment passed in which Steve merely stared at the Barydian woman, and it seemed to Julia, who sat by watching this whole exchange, that her dark-skinned companion had some strange hold over the general. Then to her puzzlement, instead of another punch to the face, Steve withdrew his hand and bowed his head to her in a kind of half-hearted apology. The commander or Yaro would surely have beaten Julia for being so bold, but this Fox, master of murderers, merely accepted her defiance.
But then Julia glanced again at the woman beside her and wondered if the general had done it only to satisfy the Brazilian. Odd, she thought, frowning, this woman just saved my jaw from being broken. And why does he keep looking at her like that?
"Two tigresses," Steve whispered to himself before leaving.
Julia's Plan...
A thunderstorm raged outside the distorted windowpanes, and Julia stared longingly out into the darkness beyond. Night had fallen and their blonde captor had not returned for several hours. Their wrists ached, bodies cramped from sitting on the ground for so long, but at least they had one another's company in the dreary gloom of their white prison cell.
"What's your name?" Christie asked.
"Julia Chang of Thade. And you are?"
"Christie Monteiro of the village Barydia."
"I heard the flowers are lovely there," Julia murmured.
"They are, but there are none left to admire their beauty. The blossoms have no purpose now but to decorate the gravestones of the dead," Christie replied, killing Julia's attempts at a decent conversation, and the dialogue died.
After that brief introduction the two women were silent for awhile, listening only to the violent rain outside and to the soft beatings of their hearts. Julia reached up to the table next to her, straining her arms, and managed to grasp the fragile vase in her hands. She gently removed the eight wilted blossoms, being careful not to cut her fingers from the razor sharp thorns that adorned the stems. Sighing, she caressed each rose with tender fingers; damn Steve for not taking better care of them, she thought as she inhaled the damp aroma of death.
However…they didn't have to be that way. But, glancing over at her companion, who sat so very close nearby, Julia decided not to risk it, and continued to absentmindedly stroke the dead yellow flowers.
"So what brings you here as a prisoner? I thought I was the only one," Julia inquired as lightning ravaged the sky, and her face lit up momentarily with the white light.
"I don't know. That blonde bastard and his men destroyed my village and killed my family. I am the only one left. Why he spared my life remains a mystery," Christie murmured, picking randomly at the blisters on the palms of her hands.
"I'm sorry," Julia replied, and Christie shrugged.
"There will be time to mourn the dead, but it is not now. We have to be strong."
The Native American woman sighed sadly in the darkness. "I wish I could be as brave as you."
At this Christie laughed harshly. "It is not courage, Julia, but anger. I wasn't always this way, for there's a madness within me. I live only for vengeance now."
"Don't we all," Julia uttered bitterly, her fists balling, "My mother was right; Elysium has changed…yet like you, I haven't shed a tear for it yet."
"That's because we're all worrying too much on how to keep ourselves alive. But don't worry, the tears will come," Christie replied, folding her hands over her knees, "just not now. Not now."
As Christie looked away, Julia thought about what her new friend had just told her. She was trying so hard to keep the sorrow at bay, to use revenge as a means of denying the pain. But Julia knew that if Christie didn't find a way to deal with it soon, then she too would fall to the same bitterness and hatred that had devoured Voira herself.
After a moment, Julia said, "He likes you."
"Hm?"
"That 'blonde bastard.' He likes you. Why else would he let you live? You've touched him."
Christie laughed again. "The only time I'll ever touch him is when I put a blade into his chest."
But Julia did not laugh at her new friend's bitterness. "Keep on doing whatever you're doing; it might be the only way you're going to survive. You should maybe even give him something he wants once in awhile to help prolong your life some."
"What are you saying, that I should sleep with him in order to live? Because there is no way in hell I will ever do that. You know men like him only want one thing from a woman," Christie said, and her face contorted in disgust.
The Native American nodded in agreement, but then suddenly turned to her friend, her eyes widening.
"You just gave me an idea," she rasped, keeping her voice low, and Christie stared at her curiously.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
A slight smile lit up Julia's face. "Do you know where he keeps his keys?"
"In his pants pocket. Why?" Christie inquired, throwing up her hands, unsure of what Julia was getting at.
The smile disappeared. "Chris, we're getting out of here tonight…but I need that key to unlock my chains. Somehow, you've gotta get him to take off his pants."
Christie laughed, shaking her head. "You're insane. I'm not a mage, so how exactly do you suppose I'll manage to do that?"
Julia merely stared at the Brazilian, then flashed her a weak, sad smile. Eyes widening in horror, Christie finally understood.
"No, never!" she cried, recoiling from Julia, "you can't be serious!"
"Please, it's our only chance. His attraction to you is our only defense right now, and if we don't risk it, we may never have our freedom again," Julia pleaded, but Christie continued to refuse.
"This is crazy. Why don't you do it?"
"I would, but unfortunately the guy likes you, ok? Now will you do this or not?"
In response, Christie flashed Julia a hateful glare.
In a town far away, nearing mid-afternoon...
A tall figure approached, and his eyes narrowed as he took in the little town that lay in the valley bellow him. It was quaint and significantly smaller than Barydia had been, but the man knew that this was Steve's next target.
With his long, dark blue coat billowing in the slight evening breeze, spiky bangs falling over one eye, the warrior reached for his waist and unsheathed the long, slender sword—Oblivion, the blade of darkness. It was ironic that such a skillfully crafted weapon, a tool of such elegance and beauty, could at the same time take the lives of so many. He glanced at the second sword, Oath Keeper, blade of light, sheathed and strapped securely in place at his waist. Oath Keeper had its purposes but tonight it was Oblivion's turn to shine.
The man watched as a band of Steve's men entered the town from the opposite side; they were completely unaware of his presence. Tonight their leader rested in Xerick, and without him they would be powerless against the warrior and his dark sword.
Lives of the innocent would be taken this night, fire would devour the guilty, and their blood would send a warning to all those who still dared to taint the light. And afterwards, Oblivion in hand, the man would walk away with no regrets or burdens as he had always done.
Temptress: Steve's chambers...
Julia continued to talk to Christie, trying in vain to kill the time and the silence, while the Barydian scowled beside her, refusing to make eye-contact.
"This is Voira's bullshit, I know it," Julia growled, fists clenching as she continued to touch the roses, twirling them by the stem between her fingers.
"Voira?" Christie inquired. It was the first thing she'd said after hearing the Native American woman's plans of escape.
She nodded. "Voira, the dark sorceress. You know, the madwoman who murdered her husband and cursed her village."
Christie laughed. "Her? You've been reading way too many fantasy books, my friend. Voira's story is just a fairytale told to scare little kids into behaving. Everyone knows that."
"I don't think so. Perhaps you should ask Steve about her while you get into his pants."
"Screw you," growled Christie, crossing her arms while Julia laughed softly.
"You do know it's our only chance, right?" Julia stated after her laughter had abated.
"Nope. We could always kill him."
"With these chains on our wrists?"
"Shut up," Christie retorted, knowing the argument was useless, "and would you quit playing with those damn roses? They're dead for God's sake."
Julia smiled again. Christie sure had a temper on her.
Approaching footsteps outside the door warned the two women that their captor was finally returning. Both quickly silenced, waiting; the thunderstorm relentlessly raged on, and Julia quietly pushed the roses to the side.
As the door swung open, Steve flicked on the lights abruptly, making the two women squint as their darkness-accustomed eyes were forced to readjust to the harsh light. Face expressionless and blue eyes serene, Steve approached the two women, then took a seat on the ground in front of them, crossing his long legs. For a long while he studied his two captives silently, head slightly cocked to the side as his eyes took in every detail of the "tigresses" he had taken. Julia wondered what he was thinking right now, what he thought as he gazed again at the two feathers in her hair and as he stared long and hard at Christie.
After several minutes, he finally broke the silence by asking, "May I get you both anything? Water or food, a change of clothes? There are plenty of those things here in Xerick."
Julia remained defiantly silent, but Christie wasted no time.
"Come closer, and I'll tell you," she whispered.
The blonde general hesitated, brows furrowed, but when Christie's gaze did not falter from his, he obeyed and leaned in closer. And as his face came within inches of the Brazilian's, she leaned forward and kissed him softly on the mouth. Julia's eyes widened only slightly, but then concealed her shock and pretended to look away.
Steve was taken aback, but both women noticed the heat rise in his face and the way his breathing slightly quickened. The blonde man began to recoil, but Christie quickly stopped him.
"Please, Sir. I know how you feel about me; I've seen your eyes on me. And I…" she swallowed, forcing out the words, "feel the same way too."
He laughed slightly, shaking his head. "I murdered your family. Unbound from these chains, I know that you only intend to kill me; I am not an idiot, Woman. You cannot seduce me."
Christie sighed, and Julia bit back a smile. She was a damn good actress, and the Native American woman kept quiet as she watched the show.
"Fine, don't trust me. But you see I have no weapon, and your men have weakened me with the journey to this city. All I want from you is one last kiss," she stated, staring up into Steve's face. Julia detected lust and desire in his dark blue irises, and she knew instantly that her brave friend had already won. All Steve had to do was agree to that simple kiss and he was doomed.
Yet still he hesitated. Years of training under Voira's care had taught him to be constantly wary, and Steve would not be easily deceived…or would he?
"Good night," he snarled, but Christie sensed the longing in his voice.
Finally, she put to use the tactic that she knew would make him hers, a tactic that seemed never to fail to affect that enormous ego men were known for.
"Are you afraid to kiss me again, Steve? Is that it? Afraid you'll do bad?" she taunted as she disguised a smile.
And just as both women had predicted, the blonde man instantly returned and pressed his mouth firmly, almost violently, onto the Brazilian's.
Christie made sure it was passionate this time, her tongue bold and deft, mouth experienced and unashamed as it caressed the general's, and Steve found that he could not pull away. He continued to kiss her, breath coming in fast, sharp bursts, hands coming up to cup the Brazilian's face to further deepen the kiss. From afar it looked as if Christie was truly enjoying it; she even added a few moans to convince her captor of her pleasure. But Julia noticed the white knuckles on the clenched fists and the reddened cheeks as Christie struggled to keep her rage and disgust in control.
Reluctantly, the blonde pulled away, but only briefly…and that was to remove the single copper key from his left pants pocket. His fingers trembled as he undid the chains imprisoning Christie, hastily shoved the key back into his pocket, then lifted her up effortlessly in his arms and carried her to the nearest bed. Christie clung to the wide shoulders, feigning lust, yet as she flashed a look in Julia's direction there was only fear and desperation. Julia bit her lip, nodded once, then forced herself to watch, waiting for the right moment. To keep her focus, she continued to caress the dead roses one at a time until all eight of them had felt her touch, barely noticing their transformation…
"Take off your clothes," Christie rasped before kissing Steve fiercely on the mouth once more.
Christie was quite the temptress, for it seemed that those kisses always worked. Steve Fox, the merciless, powerful, feared right hand man of the dark sorceress yielded beneath the smooth touch and plastic kisses of a mere stranger, and both women watched in triumph as the boxer quickly removed his shirt, pants, and undergarments without hesitation. He set them neatly at the foot of the bed, but the Brazilian woman smoothly picked up the pile and flung them in Julia's direction…
"You too," he growled, impatient, barely noticing what Christie had just done.
"Patience, patience…" she purred with an artificial seductive smile as she forced him down onto the bed, stark naked, while she straddled him still fully clothed. Covering his body with hers, Christie flashed her friend a final glance, then continued her work.
Julia didn't waste anymore time. Watching as the Brazilian kept their captive distracted, she seized Steve's pants and swiftly removed the copper key. Undoing her shackles, Julia took only a brief moment to rub at her raw wrists where the metal had tattooed a red ring about them. The anger and survival instinct returning, she grasped the crystal vase that had once imprisoned the wilted yellow blossoms…
Clearing her throat, she gave the signal to her friend just as Steve's emboldened hands had crept up the Brazilian's shirt. In an instant Christie had leaped away from the blonde, and Julia's hand came down, shattering the vase across Steve's head. Glass shards flew in all directions, and the blonde man did not even cry out as he was thrown into unconsciousness. Blood trickled down from the cuts on his forehead, staining the white pillows crimson. Both women hauled the chains to the bed and bound their captor's hands together, then his legs, and Christie pocketed the key.
"That was the most disgusting thing I have ever done," Christie spat as she glared down at his naked, prostrate form, "damn, thank God you came when you did. I can still feel his hands on me…ugh!"
"Sorry. But hey, you were really good at it. I couldn't have done better," Julia replied, trying to make her feel better as she rechecked the tightness of the chains.
"Of course. That's one talent I'm extremely proud of," she stated, and Julia smiled at the sarcasm, "though I'll admit, he does have a nice physique."
Julia laughed again as Christie cocked her head, examining the blonde. "I thought you hated him," she smiled, and the Brazilian nodded.
"Well, I still do…just not his body," and both women laughed together. Hearing their laughter was a bit strange, awkward due to the circumstances, but they continued to release their joy anyway, knowing they had won.
Picking up Slayer, Steve's broadsword, from the ground, the Brazilian smiled maliciously. "Well, well, well, look at what I found…can I castrate him?"
Julia choked back her laughter, but reluctantly shook her head. "We don't have time, and the pain might wake him up. Let's focus on escaping first."
The two fugitives then opened the window and climbed out one at a time. The thunderstorm still had not ceased, but Julia was grateful, for the violent weather would help keep them hidden as they made their escape. As they ran full speed through the rain, cloaked in the night, Julia and Christie inhaled deeply the freedom they had missed for so long.
Two hours later…
"Damn those whores!"
Steve, who was now fully clothed and wore a bandage on his battered forehead, paced his room back and forth, letting loose several strings of curses. Four of his men stood before him, unsure of what to do or how to react to their leader's distress; they all feared him too greatly to offer any advice. Just an hour after Julia and Christie had escaped, they had discovered him unconscious and had had to wait another hour for their general to snap out of his spell.
Soon, the blonde man had calmed some, and instead of curses, he emitted laughter. As it heightened to a deafening crescendo, his men exchanged worried glances over their clearly disturbed leader.
His laughter softening, Steve murmured, "Oh, she got me. They both did. Steve Fox duped by a pair of crafty slags. Was I that desperate for a shag? Then again, it wasn't just any ordinary woman either; it wouldn't have been an ordinary shag."
According to Voira, love equated to weakness. But did the same go for lust? Steve questioned as he thought to himself. Surely not, for it was lust that Christie had used to her advantage to win her freedom. But the blonde then wondered if it had been solely lust that had driven him to touch Christie, to long for her.
Returning to the grim, serious general he'd been trained to be, the blonde man ordered his men to round up a group of seven men to hunt down Julia and Christie.
"I want them found tomorrow, understand? If you fail I shall personally execute you all myself—that is, if Voira doesn't get to you first. Now go!" he cried, dismissing them all with a flick of his hand.
As his soldiers left him, a wry smile still played across his mouth. It shouldn't have amused him, but it did, for once again Christie had shown him that wild, untamable fire she possessed. Something about her was so fiercely attractive that, even though she'd manage to outwit him, her actions only further drew Steve closer to the Brazilian.
"Bloody hell!" he cried out softly as several thorns imbedded themselves into his foot. Blood oozed from the cuts, and Steve staggered backward onto the bed.
Except all feelings of the pain died as he caught a glimpse of the roses, a few of their thorns stained scarlet with his blood. He remembered vividly that he hadn't ever bothered to water them or change the water they'd been originally kept in. Steve had never cared for nature much at all, and so turned a blind eye when the lovely blooms had shriveled into hard, crusty shells. He even saw them himself, dead with the once sunshine-yellow heads drooping and tinted a decayed brown, and had done nothing.
And yet, as he stared down at the eight scattered roses, they were anything but wilted. In fact, the yellow petals were soft once more, as flawless and beautiful as when they'd first been plucked from the earth. The leaves were a healthy, vibrant green, the thorns ever redder and sharper, the scent of the blossoms strong and sweet, and even a few new buds had begun to sprout from the smooth stems. They'd been restored to their original brilliance and more.
He stared at them, wondering if one of the Xerickan maids had finally decided to change the bouquet, but knew that that was unlikely. Tentatively, he picked up one of the roses by the blossom, and cried out in pain, immediately releasing it.
For the flawless, renewed petals had burned his flesh like fire. And as he stared at the flowers, keeping a safe distance, he wondered again about the woman with the white feathers in her hair. Perhaps Helize had been right. Maybe this woman from Thade really wasn't what she seemed to be.
Later on…
Helize arrived in Xerick soon afterwards to join Steve in his massacres while his seven men searched for the two captives. Their next target was Mirun, one of the smaller villages in Elysium, yet also one of the most peaceful next to Thade. Mirun's people never initiated wars, never fought or murdered, and tried to lead a quiet life away from the world's evils.
That was why the man had chosen it, for not only was it Steve's next target, but it was also the ultimate blow to innocence and goodness.
Since Steve had already sent out a band of his men to take care of Mirun, he and Helize were only there to regroup with his soldiers and continue the journey. He was pleased when he came upon the village and found only ruins and fire devouring its homes—but he hadn't been prepared for the scores of his own men lying dead on the blood-soaked earth.
Bodies were strewn everywhere; the ground was covered with them. Women, men, and children, Mirun's people and Steve's soldiers alike. Who had done this? A few casualties were expected, but it seemed as if Steve's entire band of men had been wiped out.
"God help us," Steve whispered, collapsing to his knees in puzzlement and despair, "what madness has occurred here?"
The general was answered by a barely audible moan coming from his side. One of his soldiers, with his own sword protruding from his chest, moaned again as he reached out to his leader with a bloodied hand.
"Kale!" Steve cried as he hurried to his side, "What the hell happened here?"
The blonde man stared down at his doomed comrade and shut his eyes momentarily, knowing that his life was nearly gone.
Kale gripped his leader's arm tightly, blood leaking out from his mouth. "He…he got here before us and…waited. He waited, then came…out of nowhere."
"Who! Who did this to you!" Steve cried, seizing Kale by the shirt collar.
"Dark…blue coat…dark eyes, like a demon…a sword…he's a traitor."
Kale began to fade, but Steve shook him violently, tears threatening to emerge. "No, wait! Kale you must tell me more. Did you recognize him?"
"He's a traitor…"
"Give me a name! Can you give me a name?"
Blood oozed from the soldier's wounds and mouth as he died. "Krad, it was Krad. He killed…everybody…everybody…"
With that Kale died, his hazel eyes lifeless as death took him into her arms. Steve gently closed the eyelids and stood up, surveying the disaster wrought by Krad. Why would he do such a thing? Wasn't his allegiance to the dark sorceress? If so, then what was the meaning of this mass murder of Steve's men?
"I found this."
Turning, the blonde general noticed Helize standing before him with a piece of paper clutched in her hand. Her dark eyes flickered momentarily with a red tint, and she gestured for Steve to take the paper. As he looked at it, Steve noticed that it was written in a strange red ink, and there were several spots where it had dripped and smeared across the paper.
However, after taking a closer look, the blonde man knew it wasn't ink.
"This is blood," he stated through gritted teeth, and Helize merely looked away.
Returning to the note, Steve began to read Krad's macabre message.
Too long has the darkness raped the light. Too long have we all stood by idly as the balance was disturbed. Too long have you taken the lives of the good without considering the consequences. I have spilled the blood of the innocent and of the tainted as a warning to you all. Continue to destroy the light, and I will come and take the darkness that you thrive upon until there shall be no more. For a long time I have stood by and merely watched as you have killed and burned, but I will not allow it anymore.
I will take lives whether they be innocent or evil. I am neither darkness nor light, but I am not afraid to kill in the name of either. Remember this day well.
Krad