The First Sin

by Anesther

Sometimes it's difficult to tell the difference between purity and sin. [crossover; thrax/odette]

2. The First Sin

The First Sin

XXX

She was incredibly frail, wasting away to nothing, the bed sheets painfully reminding them how thin she's grown the past several months; maids constantly air out the room, clean diligently and make their princess as comfortable as possible, yet they can never seem to rid of the stench that hung above them like a shroud.

A wheeze escaped thin, white lips, and the king grasped his daughter's hand in dread. Would he lose her too? No… not in the same year he lost his wife—he wouldn't be able to bear it.

He wept silently, bowing his head in a quiet prayer, wanting his daughter to be saved.

Please, don't take her from me. Not her too!

The king, his advisors, his servants and his people prayed and hoped for the young princess' recovery, but no one was more firm in his vigil than the king. Constantly he continued, refusing to eat until he saw more than a glimmer of strength in his child.

Then a miracle, he swore it descended from heaven itself: a being clothed in fine white linen, face radiant and hidden by the golden glow behind the head stood before him. He faintly caught how the material of clothing seemed to be illuminated at the edges, dancing on a wind he could not feel against his skin.

"Your prayers will be answered," a voice, warm, sweet and full of power informed the king, "Your child will survive."

The king knelt low, bowing in gratitude, "Oh thank you for this mercy!"

"You must promise something first, King William,"

The king nodded vigorously, "Anything, I'll do anything."

"Continue to teach your daughter purity and chastity and she shall be rewarded for her goodness. And I prophesy that your daughter will never wed to one of common folk—for such is a man deserved by one who is pure of heart and kind in spirit."

"But… but how will I know who this man is?"

"You shall know soon enough—he will appear before your daughter and he will be the intended."

King William bowed down low once more, repeating his thanks over and over long after the celestial being had left; long after his daughter woke up, lovely face restored with the flush of life, and he was holding her tightly in his arms; long after the people rejoiced for her returning to them and long after that—for she will marry someone extraordinary, and that left him pondering well into the night.

XXX

The princess was considered an enigma throughout the land, having been touched by a blessed hand and saved from her darkest hour. The whole kingdom, even after two winters since that horrible time, continued to rejoice, fondly remembering how she'd been granted a second chance at life, going into how she had grown into more of a beauty—flaxen locks cascaded down her back in waves, spun like golden threads from the sun, eyes as deep and blue as the ocean by their kingdom, and her kindness was well-renowned throughout their small but prosperous kingdom.

Odette could barely remember her time in near solitary confinement. All the young woman could remember were the fragments of dreams, or rather nightmares—she would tell herself it was all because of the fever that caused the sheets to be drenched with her sweat, the fever that made her so dizzy she thought upside-down was downside up; she had been haunted by demons, voices which were harsh, loud like brass bells, cruel and sharp as if saws were shredding into her, echoing into the blackness of her mind till she felt so sick she wanted to die.

The princess shook her head—she did not wish to dwell on those hideous faces.

Crossing the veranda, the young woman looked around the splendid palace, its rose bushes that adorned every fountain, bright and red as the water that spurted forth created a gentle mist, a beautiful array of colors forming over them. She continued to walk softly, enjoying the serenity that hung delicately over the garden, peace in every moment.

Going forth, Odette pushed aside patches of lilies, absentmindedly admiring the softness of its petals against her fingertips. She breathed out a sigh of content when she reached the small patch of heaven she named for herself—the lake shimmered iridescently and a large oak provided a wonderful shelter. She plopped down, closing her eyes to enjoy the sensation longer, loving the scent of pure air and fresh grass.

"Princess Odette!"

The young woman groaned, wanting to pretend she hadn't heard her name. Sometimes she wished she wasn't so obedient.

"Princess Odette, where are you?"

"Oh…" she breathed in exasperation and defeat, "I'm coming!"

Giving her sanctuary one last glance, she rushed along the stone path, running at a rather high speed that she skidded to a halt once she entered the foyer. A scullery maid looked up from the small screech upon her clean floor and she did not bother to suppress her angry scowl, believing it to be one of the novices. Noticing it was the princess, she quickly changed her expression, hoping the princess had not seen.

Odette had and was already apologizing, "Oh, Natalie, I'm terribly sorry about dirtying your clean floor. I can help you—"

Natalie's eyes, a rich color of overturned earth, widened at the suggestion, "No, milady, I apologize. It's quite all right; I thought it was Luneda again—that girl doesn't do a lick of work around here, always making a bigger mess than before."

"I waved to Luneda on my way here; she's feeding the horses in the stables."

Natalie's petulant frown returned and glared balefully at the double doors, "No wonder I haven't seen sight of her since dawn. A good swift kick in the rump is what she needs,"

Odette pondered carefully then asked, "Why not just treat her with a bit more compassion? People respond better to kind requests then strong commands."

The older woman considered, eyeing Odette's youthful face then smiled, "I suppose so. Now Princess Odette, you must hurry upstairs to the king's study—he's been calling for us to fetch you for well over half an hour."

"Ah, yes, thank you Natalie," Odette replied, waving to her then paused and removed her slippers, tallying up the stairs quickly. Natalie smiled at the young woman's retreating form, sighed, and then continued to do her chore.

Odette brushed aside her long flowing hair, expertly twining the tendrils into a braid, knowing it will be sloppier than she ever does them but she was in a rush and excused it. Stopping before her father's door, she brushed off any possible dirt and knocked.

"Come in,"

Odette peered in and smiled, "Hello Father,"

King William's weary expression brightened instantaneously, the sag in his shoulders straightening, "Hello my lovely daughter," he paused then, peering at her curiously, "Why, child, are you holding your slippers?"

"Oh!" Odette blushed, slipping them back on her feet, "I rushed upon Natalie's clean floor and did not want to make a mess of it further. I completely forgot I was holding them,"

King William laughed heartily then began a fit of coughing, each wheeze drawing him into himself. Odette rushed over to her father, eyeing him worriedly. He placed a hand upon hers, squeezing comfortingly, and murmured, "I'm all right Odette. I'm just old that's all."

"You're also incredibly stressed. You have to take better care of yourself Papa."

"I will, Odette, I will. But now, we have to get to the matter at hand. I've called you in for… well, it's important for us all but it mostly concerns you,"

Odette waited patiently for him to continue.

"You see my daughter, two years ago you had been under an incredible fever—there was nothing the finest doctors could do for you. And then you were saved through a miracle, better in an instant. Do you remember this?"

"Bits and pieces of it, Papa,"

"Well, a voice had told me that soon you wed someone who was not of common folk. The time has not arrived at all so I decided we should speed up the process which I see no harm in. In the short coming weeks, we will hold a ball so that eligible suitors may come,"

"Will all these men be princes Papa?"

"Yes, Odette, for the voice said 'not of common folk' so I presumed this would only be those of noble or royal standing."

"Well…" she paused, brow furrowing as she thought, "…does this man any particular traits? How will we know if he's the right one?"

King William let out a heavy sigh, "That I do not know Odette. The voice merely said that this man will appear before you and he will be the intended."

Odette's beautiful face drew taut with confusion and skepticism. How will this come to pass if hundreds of possible suitors are approaching her? Is there another part to it, does the other half of the equation involve herself having an instant mutual attraction?

Watching her father slump in his chair, she decided not to inquire it at the moment; he looked so tired and thought it best if she did not bother him with anything else; it was not her decision either way. She would do whatever was required of her.

…But Odette truly hoped that whoever came to her would be a good choice. For this would be the man she will live with for the rest of her life.

XXX

Everyone in the kingdom was resting save for the servants and cooks in the castle, each hustling and bustling through the huge palace to finish their work only to have more thrust upon them. Such was the way of preparing for a ball.

Luneda watched from a distance, gnawing pointedly on an apple core by an open window. Once she was through with it, she hurled it as hard as she could, watching in satisfaction as it crashed into some branches, disturbing the birds that had already settled in for the night.

Skipping down the hall, the young woman paused and collected the stack of fresh towels she hid behind the potted plant; well, they were once fresh. But she didn't mind the neglecting of her duties from time to time. There were plenty of servants to do the bidding of their king and so she would often wander about and explore the marvelous setting.

How grand it would be indeed to have all these wonderful things…

"Luneda!" a voice hollered angrily.

She stopped in her tracks and turned around, making her face look as sweet as possible, "Yes, Natalie?"

"Don't you 'yes, Natalie' me. Where on earth have you been? We have so much work to do! You still have not taken those towels to the royal washrooms yet? Oh, what am I to do with such a lazy lummox?"

Luneda stiffened, dark eyes flashing, "I am not a lummox!"

"But you do admit to being lazy?" Natalie snapped, her own oculars narrowing whilst fighting hard to keep from smacking the younger woman across the face.

Luneda hung her head, face full of hurt and Natalie sighed aloud. "Look… I apologize for being critical—there's so much pressure on me at the moment. Please just take the towels up to the royal washroom then report to the kitchen for duty, all right?"

The young girl was startled at the sudden change in demeanor, peering at the older woman as though she'd grown two heads.

"Get going,"

Nodding, Luneda hurried down the hall and trotted up the steps as fast she could. She knocked on the doors to make certain no one was within then entered. She placed the towels upon a nearby rack then promptly turned to exit when a gleam caught her eye.

The necklace was exquisite, the chain of the purest silver she's ever seen, a blue gem encrusted between an elegant frame of wings, forming a butterfly. The detail on the wings was incredible and she gently touched it with scrubby fingers. They twitched to snatch and put it in her apron pocket for safe keeping…

"Luneda?"

The young girl withdrew her hand fast, as though it'd been scorched and turned to face Odette, face fresh and clean from refreshing herself. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry my lady, I had knocked and there'd been no answer so I thought it safe to pass through. I just placed a stack of fresh towels on the rack there," she halted, "Would you like me to give you one?"

"No, thank you, Luneda," she said, holding up the one in her hand.

Luneda liked the princess; she was nice and always thoughtful, asking Luneda how she was and if she's been faring well, to which Luneda always replied with a 'Well enough.' But, like most of the servants around her age, she envied Odette's beauty and grandeur, wishing barren desires, wanting desperately to rise into that much sovereignty, to blossom as well as she did.

But they were dreams that would always be like the dust she swept and threw away, always swept and cast aside like nothing.

"Is something the matter?" asked Odette, breaking the girl out of her reverie.

She shook her head, causing a few strands of lank blonde hair to fall out of the cap. She quietly wondered why her hair could not be as clean and vibrant as the one before her. "Nothing is wrong. Excuse me Your Highness; I have to return to the kitchen,"

"Of course," Odette replied, smiling gently at her.

Luneda felt a brief pang of guilt from wanting to steal the necklace just moments before; but was it so wrong to want things that belonged to others? It's not as though the princess had nothing. She could afford to lose one necklace could she not?

Now was not the time to ponder about it and hastily she left the room, rushing down the stairs.

XXX

The ball was a success, the best the kingdom has ever held, yet all who appeared to be enjoying it were those in attendance, the king, nobility, and even the servants were able to take a time of leisure near the intervals of every dance, simply making sure the buffet table was always full and fresh.

Only the princess seemed discontent with it all.

She did not like the constant fuss that was being showered upon her, considering herself to be an inconvenience for those who must have better things to do. Odette had acquainted herself with every guest in the party, also having the luxury of seeing a few princesses from neighboring kingdoms coming in, greeting her warmly.

Their questions were generic: the usual 'How are you, dear?' 'Is your father well?' 'I still cannot believe that it's been two years already since your mother passed away—bless her soul.' Then once the pleasantries had been said, it changed into polite conversation about the party. But the major bit that the others, except Odette, desired to get to was the gossip of suitable bachelors.

"What do you think of him?" asked one of the princesses; Odette never met her till now but she recalled her name was Vivian. Turning around, she looked at the man Vivian was pointing to, tall with a stocky, firm build.

Odette did not say a word.

"Perhaps her silence means she's stricken with fancy," Vivian teased, giggling with the others.

Odette shook her head, "No, I was simply thinking about it. He appears to be pleasant,"

"'Pleasant' she says," said Vivian, opening her fan with an elegant, sophisticated flair, "How about that younger man over there?"

Turning around, the young woman did find him handsomer, admiring the brightness of his blue eyes, the easy smile he gave as he cajoled with a group of the guests. A man he was speaking with pointed in Odette's direction and he turned; he beamed at her and bowed low.

She curtsied from across the way, giving him a radiant smile.

"Ooh, the princess appears to like this one," Vivian prodded, "He's Prince Derek,"

Odette looked at her, "Is he really? Then his kingdom is just an ocean away from ours. I hadn't known that,"

"Young women who went to his twentieth birthday celebration last year say that he was quite arrogant; polite but he was not open. But then what man on this earth is not?"

Looking back at the prince, Odette observed the way he spoke, the charm and friendliness he warmly gave to everyone around him and she suddenly said, "Maybe they talked negatively about him out of spite because of his rejection; the prince appears kind to me,"

Vivian, and a few other princesses, gave her a scornful stare, turning their noses upward. Vivian fanned herself rapidly, attempting to contain the anger that boiled beneath her skin. "If that is what you wish to believe,"

And Odette realized why they were looking at her as such—they had been rejected by him; she wished she had kept her mouth closed but they were already said and done. Wanting to be away from the ladies nonetheless, lest she say something worse, Odette excused herself.

But why was it so crowded?

She touched her forehead, surprised to find it very warm, and she hoped it would not be another fever. The balcony was well within view but the more she rushed over to reach the outside, the more and more people condensed. She needed to breathe…

There was a gentle push behind her back; Odette glanced down and there was a hand upon her left elbow, guiding her through the crowd but felt too dizzy to look up. Once the pair went out on the balcony, the cool night air washed upon her face.

She attempted to compose herself to thank the person properly, but all she could manage was, "Ah… thank you very much,"

"It was no trouble at all Your Majesty."

Odette's curiosity peaked at the sound of the voice: a low, husky sound that sent an odd tingling sensation down her spine. Turning around to face her rescuer, Odette's breath hitched in her throat, heart fettering and she felt the flush of heat in her face return.

She was not sure whether it was due to the moonlight dancing around them, but tendrils of palest blonde gleamed beautifully, tepid skin darkening to a deeper russet shade. A concerned look plastered upon the man's face, "You look stricken, my lady. Is something wrong?"

"Oh, no," Odette hurriedly replied, embarrassed with herself for having gone lame. Crimson dusted over her pale cheeks, and the young woman tried to will her heart to stop its unceasing pounding. "Thank you so much again for helping me… what is your name?"

The man blinked then smiled apologetically, "Forgive me for not introducing myself; I'm Lucian, Your Highness."

Odette looked down shyly, giving him a curtsy, "Thank you, once again,"

"No need for that, Your Majesty," Lucian remarked kindly, "It was honor to rescue someone of your beauty,"

Smiling, she put a hand against her face, knowing she was a maddening shade of red, "Thank you. Are you enjoying yourself, Master Lucian?"

"Honestly no; until now that is," he replied, smiling down at her again.

The princess could not force the corners of her mouth to go down and return to her polite regality. But she did not want to either way.

XXX

Sulfur burned the air, astringent in nostrils that breathed it in; a creature emerged from the shadows, glancing about with a casual indifference, paying no mind to the screams that resounded within the confines of the brimstone walls.

Moving silently, it paused when a human soul—surrounded by angry flames that licked the edges of the tender skin of their face, embedded from the neck down in a lake of hard ice—cried out for its mercy, "Help me! I don't want to be here anymore!"

The creature sneered, "Nobody wants to be here when they realize this place is very real,"

"Please…" the soul whimpered.

It appeared to be moved with pity, a flicker of emotion crossing its demonic features; the human felt a trickle of hope—

—then the human soul watched in horror, screaming, as the skin of their cheek corroded at the touch of a long claw: a bright, hot red, the tip an unbelievable scorching white.

The demon grinned, pressing it closer, watching in satisfaction as it delved in deeper…

"Thrax!"

The demon stopped, hissing in irritation, "What do you want now?"

Another being with smoldering eyes, face dripping with pus, pointed accusingly at the one called Thrax, "You know better than to torture them out of turn. Our Father Below has no qualms against punishing you again,"

Thrax grinned maliciously, standing at a significant height compared to the one he was speaking with, "Oh is that right? And how many souls, exactly, have you brought in since the creation of… humans?" he spat the last word like a curse, "Our father has not properly punished me in the longest time—he favors me above the rest of you,"

The smaller demon snorted, baring incisors that glint a hideous orange in the firelight, "You just keep telling yourself that, Thrax. You won't be constantly boasting for too long,"

Smirking, Thrax taunted, "Whatever you say, baby. I'll be waiting for that day to happen,"

Infuriated by the crassness of Thrax's demeanor, the demon lunged forward, claws poised. Thrax simply dodged, clucked his tongue, and said, "You're losing your touch! C'mon, is that really all you got to get me with?"

Moving forward, the rage that beat in its mind like thunder caused it to miscalculate, and it gasped with a choke as the long claw on its opponent's left appendage buried and wedged itself deeply. Black oozed in thick globs, and it went down on all fours. Thrax's leer increased, flicking his claw to clean it off, and kicked the other demon over the edge, snorting when the body hit the ice.

"Ooh, you just seem to get nastier with every minute," cooed a sultry voice, licentiousness coated in every syllable. Since the demon dubbed itself with the name of 'Eris', it lived up to its full potential of chaos and disorder, taking delight in confusing beings—both demons and humans—with tempestuous grins and bold caresses.

Thrax watched with slight interest as the other demon continued to stride towards him, curvaceous and confident. Even so, he found himself not as tempted to satiate his desires and continued onwards, lost in thought. Still, the other demon pursued, sighing in mock disappointment and drawing closer.

Annoyed, Thrax shoved the other devil away, crossing over to the opposite side in order to avoid Eris' looks. Slowly, Thrax crept in to a large, cavernous hole in a wall of brimstone, a smirk toying non-existent lips as sharp, golden oculars fell upon a glowing orb, hovering in the middle of vicinity.

Peering intently into it, Thrax's eyes followed and remained focus solely on the person who interested him: a young woman with flaxen tendrils, beautiful oceanic eyes and a smile that could sweeten the bitterest of dispositions. Oculars narrowed angrily as men approached her, offering themselves to dance with her.

He wanted her; more than anything, he desired this lovely, youthful girl.

One way or another, he will claim the princess, Odette, as his own. He swore it.

XXX

Odette remained intrigued by the stranger she met a fortnight previous, finding him to be a welcoming breath of fresh air compared to the ones she'd meet. While she often tried, and usually succeeded, in finding the best in everyone, she never thought a man could be so earnest and sincere. With her father's permission and blessing, he allowed the man to court his only daughter. King William highly approved of her choice, noticing that not only was Sir Lucian of amazing stature and refined breeding, but he was the perfect candidate—there was absolutely nothing that displeased him about the suitor and urged his daughter fervently.

The princess smiled when she saw Lucian approach her, tenderly looking down at her, as though he'd known her all his life. Odette wondered if he truly is the one meant for her, the one that was mysteriously promised to her. She could see herself falling in love with Lucian easily—he was so even-tempered and kind, always thinking of her needs before his own. Was it possible to grow so fond of someone so soon?

"Good afternoon, Your Majesty," Lucian told her, a handsome smile on his attractive, angular features. She remembered the first night she saw him, how the darkness and moonlight played on his skin and managed to darken it in a lovely shade of russet. He had a color to his skin, a light tan that she found peculiar, considering not many noblemen grew darker, even if they spent time in the sun.

"How often are you outside?"

"Quite a lot, Your Highness," replied Lucian, "I very much enjoy being outdoors. I can not stand being cooped up for so long within my home. Why do you ask?"

"I, too, like to go outside," Odette said, "And, also, I asked because I don't see very many noblemen who… um…"

"Yes?"

"…well, you have, a very tepid shade to your skin. That's why I was wondering." Odette felt another blush on her cheeks; why did her face betray her often with him, and only him?

Lucian laughed, not insulted in the least, "Well, I was practically raised on horses—not to boast, but I'm a very fine equestrian; I should be, having been near and on those majestic creatures since I was two."

"Really?" she asked, interested in his childhood.

"Oh, yes—and once I was on, nothing and no one could remove me from the saddle. It's absolutely thrilling—the speed and rush and feeling of being utterly free, one with a being that doesn't understand your words, but motives and actions are always clear to them, subconsciously part of you and you can just comprehend them back…" Lucian halted, noticing Odette's rapt attention. He smiled sheepishly, "Forgive me for ranting—horses are my passion,"

Odette loved the way he described it with such poeticism that she burst with an excitement and desire to make him happy, "I never thought of it that way before. I love my horses, but… that was beautiful! Oh, we must go on a ride through the pasture!" she said, bouncing up from the stone bench.

Lucian looked up in surprise but he looked just as elated. "Now, Your Highness?"

"Yes! Oh, please, let's go!"

Standing and bowing, he swept his arm with grandeur in the direction of her stables, "Lead the way Your Majesty,"

Odette wished to tell him to call her by name… but now was not the appropriate time and she held her tongue. Together, they made their way to the stables in a companionable silence; once there, Odette mounted her horse, Lucian's hand lingering over hers after he'd helped her up; a handsome grin spread along his features, causing her heart to speed up, and they were lost in the beauty of the day and the growing affection for the other.

XXX

That night she was drenched in sweat, awakened and in a dazed confusion. The room would be cold and drafty yet her body always felt hot with an uncontrollable heat. Was she becoming ill again? Rising from her bed, she made her way to the window and pried it open, pulling them in to allow the cool air caress her skin. Breathing in deeply, she wondered why she felt like this.

Could it be because of her growing admiration and affection for Lucian?

She sat on her bed, pondering it; her heart would fetter just thinking of him, and her mind would become lost in thoughts of spending more time with him, until he would stay with her for good. It was too early to recognize this feeling to be love—but she did not even know what romantic love was… how would she be able to tell it apart from just platonic love?

She wasn't sure. But as she lay back down upon her bed, Odette's lips curled up into a smile, thinking of his gorgeous features, the gentleness of his voice, the warmth of his eyes. She loved staring into their sage depths, reminding her of a dark green forest. They were absolutely beautiful eyes.

Thoughts crept into her mind, salacious and wicked, of his lithe yet strong body pressed against hers, desire emanating out of her in waves. She thought of how sweet and delicious it would be to have his mouth upon hers, the feel of his surprisingly callused digits skimming along her smooth skin, murmuring her name…

Shocked at the direction of her mind was taking, Odette immediately shut out the thoughts. Or so, she thought she could. They simply seemed to push harder against her mental barricade, and the princess slammed her hands against her ears, trying to will them away.

Licentious imagery slinked in, clear and vivid, feeling his every touch, envisioning his mouth trailing hot kisses down her collarbone, over her breasts, moving lower…

A moan escaped her lips, of defeat, frustration, and want. Odette shook her head, whispering, "Go away… go away… please."

The plea simply increased the thoughts and Odette grabbed her pillow, screaming her anger and disgust with herself into it. Curling into a ball, she shut her eyes, again willing her mind to try and clean itself.

A chuckle resounded in the darkness; her head snapped up, staring about in dread.

"W-Who… are you?"

All that greeted her was silence but she felt a heat pool into her, making her stomach tie itself in knots. Her hands shook as she clasped them together, delirious from the notions pouring into her mind. She was going insane, thinking things are here with her but she's really all alone. Odette forced herself to sleep and suffered a restless slumber.

XXX

Luneda and Natalie busied themselves with the other palace servants, making certain that the wedding of their princess was a wonderful one. It was the grandest wedding that was ever held in this kingdom—constant work and hassle to ensure not there was not a single mistake.

"This is so exciting!" cried Luneda, having never seen a wedding of such splendor before, "Don't you think, so, too, Natalie?"

"I think that you should gabber less and scrub more." Natalie returned, annoyed by her apprentice's lofty thoughts.

Luneda stood and twirled to face her, grabbing the mop and pulling it towards her, "Aren't you excited for the princess at all?"

"Of course I am," replied Natalie, continuing to air the curtains best she could.

"Why are you so stiff then?"

Natalie stiffened in response, not liking her defiant tone, "I am not being 'stiff'. I'm trying to get these chores done before all the wedding guests arrived. We have so much work to do today and all you're doing is dancing with that cruddy mop—oh would you stop that!"

Luneda, as soon as Natalie talked of her dancing with the mop, proceeded to spin around in light, dainty circles, following the beat to something entirely within her head. She moved with such grace and poise that Natalie shut her mouth, watching her curiously. Though Luneda was rambunctious, she never really displayed any sort of artistic ability or acted out of her usual somber disposition.

Watching her curiously, Natalie leaned upon her broom, smirking at the way Luneda continued to sway her hips, arms fluid in the air. Natalie was not sure at times whether she liked the younger girl or not. Luneda was only ten years her junior, a decent age distance if they had been sisters; but she only had one sister, who was dead from the fever she'd contracted as a child. She would be Luneda's age, though not as spirited or mischievous for certain. Natalie pondered quietly about her little sister, how she might be if she had lived through it…

She then noticed that Luneda had ceased her dancing long ago and was now staring at her inquisitively.

"What's the matter with you?"

Natalie huffed and rolled her eyes. "Nothing, and if you want to witness the wedding procession, you better hurry up with your mopping," and to punctuate her reasoning, she continued to do her chore, ignoring the girl.

XXX

She was a lovely vision in white, sun-kissed hair cascaded down in lush waves around her slender waist. Odette never felt more nervous in her life, wondering if she was about to trip and ruin the dress; was Lucian regretting this?

Stepping up beside him, she looked up at him shyly, heart fluttering in excitement. He gave her a dazzling grin, teeth bright against the russet skin. As the priest spoke, loud and joyous, for the sanctimony and importance of marriage and how it's not only a covenant with each other, but with God as well, Odette felt delight pour into her being, dreaming already of how beautiful life can continue to grow. She never felt happier!

The princess barely heard the final closing prayer and words, only coming back from her reverie when she felt a hand gingerly skim across her cheek, warmth lingering where skin touched skin. Her head swam when his lips touched hers, bubbles of delight bursting throughout her form. She felt breathless when he pulled away and he took her hand, leading them down the aisle.

Odette looked up at Lucian adoringly, feeling the love in his gaze and made her heart thrum all the more. As they walked right beneath the church's doubled entrance, an individual on her left and on Lucian's right crowned them simultaneously, hailing, "Long live King Lucian and Queen Odette!"

The happiness in her died as quickly as it had spread; when they reached the bottom of the stairs, she turned to Lucian, who was already looking at her solemnly.

"May I…?"

Lucian appeared shocked. "Of course you can go."

As she left her husband's side, Odette made her way down to the back of the church, giving smiles to all the people she saw. But she knew her smile was pained, for she could see it in their expressions as she walked into the graveyard. In the very center, beside her mother's grave, was her father's tombstone; it was the tallest of them all, new and pristine in stark contrast to the gray, bleak ones surrounding it. Either way, being here was incongruent to one of the happiest days of her life.

She knelt, not caring about the dress; she felt the familiar tears stream down her cheeks.

"I wish you could be here with me, Father," she murmured, "I miss you so much…"

The tomb was deathly still.

She didn't know why she expected to hear her beloved father's gentle voice. Of a sudden, she felt incredibly alone, thrust backwards into a memory of herself as a child, frightened in the darkness of her room as thunder boomed and lightning crashed. Odette had been cowering for hours, curling her ugly self into a tight shivering ball of fear. Then, out of nowhere, she had her father beside her, whispering words of comfort and she'd instantly feel better.

Odette wept for a long time, remembering how good it felt to empty herself of grief. She hadn't been able to do so properly, with her father's burial and her wedding having been close together. Odette missed him so much…

After several moments of undisturbed quiet, she rose and walked slowly back to the courtyard, where her subjects waited to see their king and queen off.

XXX

Luneda watched curiously as Natalie hurried about her duties, strands of ebony protruding from the cap, dark eyes set with concentration. She noticed the firm line of the older woman's lips, a lovely hue of pink she'd never caught before; eyes roved downward to watch the gentle sway of hips, gaze also set on the dainty fingers that no one would guess as callused from constant labor.

A tight coiling in Luneda's stomach caused her slight discomfort, heart beating ferociously. She welcomed the imagery of herself with the older woman, allowing her thoughts to run rampant with every little detail she wanted to perform, though she wasn't sure as to why she was thinking of being with Natalie, of all people.

She hated Natalie: hated the way she nagged, her constant retorts, the way she carried herself as though she were better than her.

Yet she wanted to pursue her as well, and it annoyed the younger woman to no end. There was no denying that, no matter how unfitting the clothing or how much soot covered Natalie's face and hands, the woman was very lovely.

"What are you doing?" asked Natalie, quirking a brow, peeved.

Luneda fancied ways to love her, to torture her, thriving on her own twisted sadism.

"Well?"

She shook her head, "Nothing. I was wondering if anyone's gone outside yet to check on the stables yet. I don't think they've been cleaned out yet."

Pondering, Natalie rested a finger against her chin; Luneda found it infuriatingly attractive

"I don't think so. You can do that if you want."

Luneda scurried off, not noticing the slightly worried frown marring Natalie's features.

XXX

Odette woke up late at night again, unnerved at the thoughts in her head. Though Lucian and she were married now, she still became slightly shocked at the way her mind could conjure salacious portrayals of him taking her. She wasn't sure of what to do with it.

She glanced at the empty spot next to her, running her fingers along the cool sheets.

Not soon after their returning from their honeymoon, he had been called on to meet with King Derek to discuss an alliance against several other kingdoms.

Sighing in the lonely chamber, the queen rose and walked over to the window, watching the silver rays of the moon dance upon the lake. Odette gazed at its splendor with a new calmness, feeling more at peace.

"Beautiful isn't it?"

Cerulean pools widened in surprise, and she spun, hand at her chest. Odette narrowed her eyes, attempting to peer into the blackness. She faintly made out the outline of glowing amber orbs, a slight tint of sage in their depths.

Frightened, she crept back against the window pane, sensing a darkness emanating from the one before her. She waited quietly, unnerved at the way the unblinking oculars simply stared at her, as if they were able to delve into her and uncover everything about her life and self.

Odette watched as shadow moved upon shadow, soft footfalls steadily approaching. She nearly screamed in terror at the crimson skin, reminding her of congealed blood, incredibly bright halcyon eyes staring into her ashen face. Her gaze glanced down at the long claw that glinted ominously in the dim gloom, radiating its own energy.

A gasp escaped her lips when she watched the right appendage move towards her face, slightly surprised at the iciness of those talons. Even so, she felt a singeing trail where it touched her skin, so cold it burned into her flesh. Scared yet unafraid she looked at the long claw that buried itself into her long, flaxen hair, white as starlight.

She shuddered when the tip skimmed down the nape of her neck, down to the small of her back and then upwards once more, sliding from there to the corner of her mouth. A chill settled into her core; wanting to curl in on herself, wondering if she should beg for mercy.

Odette felt breath, misty as fog and narcotic as nightshade, against her flushed skin, the body against her own, and she suddenly pushed the thing away, dread gnawing at her heart. "Please!" she said in a hushed voice, throat tight with horror, "Leave me alone—I haven't done anything to deserve this!"

"That's what everyone tells me," It replied, "It's of little difference to me."

Consumed entirely with her fear, wits at an end, Odette shoved it away, desperately trying to escape. When strong, icy hands gripped her arms like a vise she immediately began to claw and bite, thrashing wildly as she kicked against the one which held her.

"You're mine either way." replied the creature, tightening the hold, eager to feel the warmth of her earthly flesh, hear her sweet voice become hoarse and raw, remember how existence used to be when It had an actual purpose, how being alive used to feel like…

Odette felt, again, alien hands against her frame, rough and dominant. Her heart beat wildly as they continued to slide against her skin, never aware that ice could be like fire. As she swallowed back tears, unconsciously, her body reacted to the eerily familiar movements of a lover unknown to her mind; her hands moved tenderly along the cool foreign body, mouth silently saying a name that was on the tip of her tongue but couldn't recall.

This was wrong.

She hated what she was feeling—she felt filthy, unworthy of the love her husband devoted to her alone. Yet another side of her didn't seem to care, or merely forgot, while matching the rhythm It set, pain tearing into each fiber of her being but she welcomed it more with every time It caused her to arch her back, each time she felt talons dig into her alabaster skin and she would return the act with equal vigor, unsure whether she did it for a small payment of vengeance or because she noticed the creature enjoyed that; somehow, in a wicked way, reminding her that she was only human—she couldn't be the perfect embodiment of purity they all wanted her to be.

She faintly heard a husky moan from above; she responded with her own plea for it to stop—no, she was lying to herself—and writhed from the pain and pleasure of it, lost in the depravity of its ecstasy.

XXX

Luneda's stygian eyes stared down the equally dark house; she crept quietly into the confines of its walls, wrinkling her nose at the musty scent of decay and lack of care for this place. She brushed aside a cobweb, and felt the tiny pitter-patter of a spider; nonchalantly, she flicked it off.

Groping in the black, she felt the handle of the oil lamp, and carefully turned it on; inches from her face, the light illuminated a blank, unseeing face, dead and rotten.

She leapt back, not because it startled her, but because she hated the person the corpse had once been. Gritting her teeth, she kicked its calf, disgusted at the way it flopped lamely—nothing but a bulbous bag of arthritic bones and watery blood.

Luneda crossed over to the shelf and sought out her bags and jars, stuffing them into a worn basket. She heard a barely discernible wheeze—she wouldn't have noticed if the house hadn't been so quiet. Rounding around to stare at the body, spittle forming in thick, yellowish globs at the front of the mouth and dribbling down a wrinkled chin, Luneda glared with fervent hostility.

"You deserve what you got, you know that."

The body's chest raised a little, and the whites of eyes streaked with thin ribbons and the irises a pale, terrible blue, pupils long gone.

"You're so sickening," she hissed, eyes narrowed.

The mouth moved slightly, as though it were attempting to speak. A finger moved.

Luneda reached forward immediately and broke the digit, enjoying the crackle of withered bones. Of course, the body was so far past feeling anything that it didn't even cry out. It simply stared at with dead, wide eyes. To make herself continue to feel better, she pulled out a knife, and was about to carve words in the leathery skin when she heard a thud.

Annoyed, she blew out a breath and walked back to the last room of the tiny cottage, lifting up the lamp so she could see. On the dusty floor, debris still hovering in the air, Luneda pursed her lips at the angry, youthful face of a man tied to a chair, blue orbs mere slits, a raggedy cloth over his mouth.

She laughed and the sound seemed to echo. "From the way you're looking at me, I can see you'd like to murder me."

The man attempted a pitiful lurch, fury etched in every visible feature.

"Oh, don't worry, little brother," she murmured, coming forward to kneel before him, "I'm not going to do anything to you. Well, at least not yet." To mock him, she patted him on the head, ruffling his hair. Angered, he moved again, trying to bite her hand despite the cloth.

Luneda pulled away her hand nonetheless; she became embarrassed when the younger man began to chuckle. Just as infuriated she slapped him hard across the face and backhanded him for good measure. Dizzy, the man groaned a little.

"Oh, you've never been a good boy," she told him, rising to full height then moved behind him. She paused. "I could just leave you on the floor… but seeing as how that shriveled up bastard gets to have his own seat then you can too."

Promptly, she lifted him up, and patted his head again. "I don't know why you're like that—haven't I always been kind to you?"

The man simply glared, unable to do anything.

Luneda feigned hurt, hand at her chest, "How can you look at me like that? Of course, there was that one time when I pushed you in front of a rolling cart with stampeding horses, when I had been so, so, close to setting you on fire, as well as when I was about to smother you with your pillow as I sang you a lullaby—but these were all accidents! Don't you believe me?"

He tried to whirl around and kick her but she simply held the chair in place.

"Oh, you're a horrid baby brother! I do the best I can with you and what do I get in return? Absolutely nothing…"

He pulled against the rope, ignoring the sting as it burrowed into the tender skin of his wrists, mumbling a torrent of vicious words against the cloth.

"I would take that off for you," Luneda said, sighing in disappointment, "But you'll likely tell me all sorts of nasty things about me that aren't true at all."

Screaming in rage, the man thrashed upon the chair, managing to get on his feet for a few seconds; hunched over, he whirled around, but Luneda shoved him down on the hard, woodened floor. Even so, he thrust out a leg and swept it beneath her feet, catching her off and Luneda crashed down on the ground beside him.

A caterwaul escaped her and Luneda rose, black eyes stained with a ghastly red from the lamp that slipped from her grasp. The lamp's flames had erupted from the glass, already licking away at the decrepit floor like a fiery serpent. Before the flames could continue, she stomped on them with all her might—she still had use of this place.

Once it was gone, breathing harsh, Luneda brushed away her blonde hair.

The man mumbled something.

"What?"

He cocked his head from her, quirking a brow arrogantly then looked poignantly at the cloth.

Against her better judgment, she removed the cloth from her brother's face. "What?"

He looked at her then at the scorched wood and back. He smirked rebelliously, "Too bad you put it out—you could've burned me with it."

"Oh you son of a bitch!" she cried, enraged at her stupidity and his arrogance. Mind reeling, Luneda kicked hard in the ribs. She didn't hear the crack and did it again, each one growing stronger, her yelling increasing in pitch, "Everything's your fault! Your pathetic whore of a mother couldn't rely on herself or your stupid grandfather—she had to seduce that old fool in the chair!"

It's their entire fault… voices chanted.

"If your mother hadn't met my father I'd still be living with my mother in that mansion!"

Keep hurting him for what he did to you…

"Because our dear father had to be more in love with your mother than mine, I paid the price for it!"

That's right—you had to suffer it all…

"Has anyone ever thought about how I might feel? Did anyone ever think about me?"

Let it all out, they deserve what they did to you…! The demons chanted louder.

"I hate you! I hate all of you!"

But you don't hate us, do you…? The voices were suddenly meek, soft and hurt.

Luneda halted, gasping for air, but her voice became adoring, appalled at the notion, "No, no! I could never hate you. I love you—you're the only ones who've ever cared for me, after all."

Spitting out blood from his swollen mouth, the man stared up her through bruised lids, "Still talking… to those monsters, are you?"

Luneda kicked him hard in the stomach. "Shut up! They're not monsters! If anyone's a monster around here it's you and father out there! If I didn't need you, I'd kill you right now." Luneda huffed, wiping the sweat from the exertion off.

Suddenly she sighed, "Oh, now look what you made me do, brother! I beat you so badly, most likely, that you're going to have to stay here a while. I certainly can't let you go back to your wife when you look like this—but don't worry. I'll make sure to tell her that you're all right and that you miss her."

"Luneda…" he groaned, hearing her retreating steps.

"It's all right, Your Highness," she admonished primly, "Nothing's going to happen to her."

"Luneda!"

Reaching into her apron pocket, she covered his mouth, "We don't want anyone to hear you, now do we?" then exited and shut the door. Leaning against it, the girl sighed, feeling weary. Grabbing for the spare oil lamp, Luneda flickered it to life and continued to gather the ingredients she needed. Once she was done, she was about to leave when she remembered something.

Pulling out her knife once more, she kneeled before her father and slashed the words 'I used to love you,' into the skin. She liked how the red was stark upon the deathly white skin and she even patted the unmoving figure.

"There, that's much better."

XXX

Odette sat in her bedchambers alone, covered with her fur pelts and sheets, staring out the window, missing Lucian more than ever. Nervously, she chewed her lip. She was always frightened now to go to sleep, wondering if that nightmare would continue to come back.

She stiffened when the creature was suddenly at her left, blocking the white rays and covering her with darkness, claw at the throat.

Groaning, Odette put her hands over her face, "No! I told myself I wouldn't fall asleep this time! Wake up, wake up, wake up…"

"Who told you that you're dreaming?" inquired the voice she was now so used to. She felt the talons pry away her fingers, her face now close to the demonic features. She shuddered at the intensity of the gaze and Odette scooted backwards against the freezing stone walls.

"Why do you move from me?"

She merely shrugged, unable to look up.

It wasn't having that tonight and the claw was beneath her chin, forcing her to tilt her head back. She caught the glint when those golden suns went to her neck. Unwillingly, the thought of It moving to nip it excited her, part of her lying in wait for It to touch her.

"Don't you like what I do to you?"

Odette shivered and sighed as she shut her eyes. This cannot be happening to her!

It smirked devilishly, making the young queen quake beneath the heated stare, talons already caressing her skin, over her breasts and down along the stomach. Odette clenched her fists together, wanting to fight against this feeling of euphoria that threatened to wash over her.

"Stop it." she suddenly said, strength coming from an unknown reserve.

The creature actually did.

"No more, I don't want to do this!"

There was a hiss and It was now hovering over her, features twisted even uglier than before, but she held tightly onto the tiny thread of courage with all her might.

"You'll do as I say."

Odette shook her head vigorously, "This is wrong! If you want to keep doing to me what you've been doing, you'll have to kill me—I refuse to do this."

"You've been enjoying it these past several nights."

Shame mingled with her courage and it damped the latter, but she held on firmly. "I don't know what trickery you've been casting over me, but it ends here. I love Lucian, and I need to keep my vow to him alone!"

The beast suddenly vanished without a trace.

Odette looked around wildly, even checking beneath the bed and the wardrobe, every crevice.

It was gone.

She felt relieved… and yet as though she'd hurt It somehow and guilt extinguished the victory, reminding her of the familiar feeling when she hurt someone close to her.

XXX

Luneda was petulant for the next few days, quieter than anyone's heard her. This was both worrying and perturbing for Natalie, who was constantly watching for a sign that, maybe, Luneda was about to have breakdown. She knew she pushed the younger girl past her limitations but Natalie believed it was always good to push someone past what they only expect to be able to do.

"Natalie,"

"Yes?"

Luneda halted, back turned to the other woman, and she shut her eyes tightly. "Never mind, it's nothing."

"All right…" Natalie never knew what to feel about the girl. She knew there was good in everyone yet she had inkling that there was something deeper to what Luneda revealed to everyone. She couldn't understand why she felt this way when around Luneda, but she could not ward off the sense that she may be in a hazardous situation just by being feet from her, though the girl was not accident prone at all.

Gripping her duster, she cleaned off a tall painting with smooth, long and even strokes, pushing out all the thoughts that refused to leave her be; an awkward silence soon followed but she didn't dare to break it, simply glancing every so often at the girl. Luneda looked out past the grove of fruit trees to the distant hills, chin resting on a propped hand.

Luneda felt the intent gaze but did not make eye contact. She was concentrating about what to do about her pressing situation. Living as a maid was not only cumbersome, it was a drudgery that she no longer wanted—it had never been something she wanted but she had been trapped in this vocation since her early teens.

She was tired of it all.

As the sun set and her daily chores were coming to a close, Luneda smiled to herself, eager to get started on her worship. She always felt better afterwards.

XXX

Thrax watched the young queen look out the window, withal, refused to make himself known.

He had been undeniably unprepared when she refused him, claiming to love the human and only that human. A jealousy unlike anything he had ever experienced planted its heinous seed in a nonexistent heart; if it were real, it was already black and shriveled, and the seed would only corrupt it further.

But it had angered him just thinking of her wanting the human. It was maddening that he was plagued with constant notions of her, repeatedly, telling him to leave her alone, seeing her face every place he went.

Most of the time, the sex was enough. But he noticed that he began to think of himself less and thinking of her more, considering her feelings and wondering how she was doing. This wasn't how demons were supposed to act among or towards humans—what were they to beings such as him?

They were even lower than his kind: always discontent, constantly wanting things that were beyond their reach, never taking all they have with the gratitude they should be giving it. Humans were horrible, perhaps even more treacherous than demons. The truth could be staring them right in the face and they'll easily fall into the idea of it being a fallacy; amongst his own, there was rivalry, however none could seem to compare to the warfare and destruction humans set upon themselves, fanning the wildfire with stronger gales till it consumed them all.

They were granted with the beauty of a soul, but they give into the wickedness that tears it apart bit by bit. The fault does not lie only on demons; part of the blame falls upon them for not calling upon the strength of the Enemy, He who made them. Perfectly accessible aid that was refused because humans believed they could do everything on their own, relying on their own will power.

Even Thrax understood the absurdity of it.

The only difference was that humans still had the ability to head their suffering hearts and repent.

Demons could not do that—they were too far lost in their own morbid and dark fantasies. That was not the whole reason however: humans, at one point or another, can want to choose something better for them; his kind was perfectly at ease doing as they please and answering to no one but their Father Below. What would make them think, also, that if they tried to ask for mercy, it would be granted upon them easily? They used to be children of the Enemy. That was why their Father Below had rebelled against the Enemy—because the Enemy preferred sniveling, cowardly humans above more perfect subjects.

He recalled how enraged they had all been when the Enemy cast them all out of the Kingdom, falling so far from grace that it had shattered with them—unredeemable and irreparable—no longer allowed, or even able to remember, to enjoy the splendid life above. Many of his fellow demons have forgotten that they were created by the Enemy. He was one of the few who knew the truth but spouting it out would make their Father angry; truth, in hell, was unheard of either way. It would only be seen as a joke.

Thrax broke from the reverie and stared down at Odette, watching her run slim fingers through her soft, fragrant tendrils. Suddenly, she stopped and cautiously looked up. She wouldn't be able to see him, but he felt as if she were staring directly up at him, a peculiar emotion swirling in her eyes, vast and open as the sky.

An unfamiliar trickle of hope tugged within the emptiness, wondering if she would see past the invisibility, reach up with open arms and beckon him to her, pulling him close and whisper the tender words she'd use when she pretended she's loving… the human.

It was preposterous, he knew… yet the feeling remained.

But she did continue to stare up at the ceiling, even as the dawn broke through the violet cloak and sent the stars into their daily slumber.

XXX

Odette pondered night and day about the creature that had used to make her life a living hell and an earthly paradise. She wasn't sure why she thought about It, but she did. It was always in the darkness of chambers that, instead of wondering when Lucian would come back, her mind would linger on when the being would come back.

It was disturbing to her as well, as she had been so frightened by the beast at first: every little detail screamed its demonic prowess; yet she had become so accustomed to looking into golden optics, translucent and eerie, set in a dark scarlet face, that she would sometimes become a little confused as to why It wasn't looking down at her.

She would reprimand herself often about worrying for a creature that could very well have killed her when every thought should be consumed by Lucian's whereabouts. The whole kingdom and its populous were growing anxious for the return of their king and nothing could be done—no one knew precisely where to look.

Odette could not help but feel, however, that losing the demon had been more wrenching than not knowing where Lucian was. It frustrating and awful to admit to herself, but it merely felt as more of a personal loss.

It was always difficult to explain, even to her, but she longed to see the beast. Despite the cruelty it clearly enjoyed, its delight in hurting things, she found herself nestling a moiety of affection for it within her heart.

The feeling had burrowed into her one night when It had been about to leave—always before the sun cast its first beam of precious light upon the land. Odette had still be half-asleep and deemed it a dream, but she could see the broad shoulders, sense the coolness It radiated.

Despite it being a dream, Odette had been angry with It as usual, but mainly at herself for allowing the trysts to continue. The creature had noticed but didn't seem to care at all—It was practically emotionless to her, never giving a spare thought.

Murmuring unintelligibly about how much she hated It, she curled in on herself, glaring with outright scorn at the tall back, darker when facing against the slowly brightening horizon.

It then said, "That's nothing new. Hate is all I know."

It had been stating a simple fact, yet her heart felt a pang of sympathy, and she'd nearly risen and planted a hand upon one of the shoulders. But when she had blinked, It was gone.

She sighed, leaning against the wall. She even regretted never asking if It had a name.

All the times she could have asked…

Odette trudged slowly through the hall and out to garden, but even its wild vineyards and flourishing buds were cast in a dreary gray shade. The seasons were changing as well; however, she still found it ironic how well it fit her mood.

Not paying close attention, she bumped into another individual.

"Luneda! I'm sorry!" Odette cried out, smiling apologetically.

The maidservant simply shook her head, picking up the freshly cut roses in silence. Odette kneeled and aided her, handing them over once they'd gathered each one.

"You'll have to excuse me—my mind's been cluttered recently."

Luneda looked up at her, dark eyes as black as a storm, "It's all right Your Majesty. With His Highness' disappearance, it must be hard to get any sleep at all."

Odette smiled tiredly, "Yes… Lucian."

Rage flared up within the younger woman, a frown set on her pale lips. "Your Highness, if I may be so bold, but will you accompany me to the stables?"

The queen nodded, seeing no harm in such a simple request. "Of course,"

Luneda led the way, fingers gripping the stems so tightly she felt the thorns prick them, blood streaming down and pooling thinly into the lines and palms of her hands. She vaguely watched droplets kiss the green blades.

Odette entered the stables with Luneda, and she was quickly reminded of the first time she and Lucian arrived here together. Saddened, Odette walked over to one of the horses, clicking her tongue to call it over. The stallion came promptly, whinnying in delight to see his mistress.

Giggling, she lovingly stroked the snout.

He suddenly began to buck his head, a frightened noise escaping it, snorting and kicking up dirt and hay with its rear hooves.

Odette wasn't sure what was wrong with him, and she turned to Luneda for help, but the next thing she knew she was succumbed by many evil presences; she screamed in horror, hearing the terrifyingly proverbial voices that plagued her a few years ago, the world growing dimmer until it was an abundant mass of nothing.

XXX

Broken and caked with his hardened blood, Lucian coughed violently behind the cloth, the warm stickiness of blood against his lips. Inhaling a raspy breath, he slowly exhaled only to cough once more. Shutting his eyes, Lucian shuddered from the pain. On his foot, he felt a strange scuttling over the limb and he shook it off.

Bleary eyed and dying, Lucian found the inner reserve to pray, not for himself, but for his wife. Though he did not really know her, he desperately wanted her to stay safe from the wrath of his unstable half-sister. He wanted to help Odette, but there was no way he would be able to—he close to leaving this world and Luneda would win with her chaotic rampage.

A light suddenly destroyed the darkness, and Lucian was bathed in a beautifully warm and golden glow. Breathing became easier, he could see better and when he opened them, he found himself able to outstretch his hand, a chorus of heavenly music causing all his senses to come alive.

Are you ready?

"To die…?" he asked, curious.

No, child; to save the life of a woman.

Lucian found himself stupidly nodding, knowing this was a sign. "Yes, I'll do it."

The light was suddenly gone and he was trapped, alone again, in the perpetual night.

But he found himself no longer tied to the chair; he skimmed his hands over the places where his wounds had once been, astounded to find them no more. He had just been handed a miracle from God and he thanked God profusely.

The door crashed open and, standing in the doorway, sunshine emitting behind her from the broken in front door, Lucian looked up into the face of Natalie.

"Your Highness!" she yelled and crossed over to him. "Goodness, what's happened? You looked awful!"

Lucian rose to his feet, ready to get on the move. "I had been in worse condition just a few seconds ago. How did you find me?"

"An angel came to me and told me where to find you—I've had a terrible feeling for the past few days and it revealed to me your location. It then told me to go and find Luneda—"

Lucian's head snapped up and he ran for the front door, "Odette's in danger! We have to get back to the palace."

"Wait, Your Highness!" Natalie shouted, grabbing both horses by the reins and handing one to Lucian. "The angel told me she and Odette aren't at the palace. They're deep within the forest."

Kicking the flanks of the stallion, Lucian and Natalie broke into a gallop, the horses whipping quickly past the tall valences of bark and leaf. "It doesn't matter where they might be—God willing, He'll help us get their in time!"

Natalie prayed urgently that it would be so.

XXX

Do it, do it, do it, do it…

Luneda held the dagger close to her bosom, glaring down at the woman in cold anger.

Do it, do it, do it, do it…

Maliciously, she sneered, chanting incantations to the spirits beyond, calling them forth to witness the sacrifice they were about to receive because she loved them so much. Furious and delighted, Luneda saw the horrid and gruesome masks of the creatures she adored, each one howling in lust for blood, wanting her to strike the girl—strike the girl now!

Do it, do it, do it, do it!

She had to do it, needed and wanted to do it because she hated everyone, she hated the world, hated even herself—but this always made it better, satiating the ones who loved her because of what she would do for them.

Everyone who turned against her would pay dearly with their lives, she swore it.

Lifting the dagger high over her head, she was about to plunge it into the still breathing chest when it was suddenly knocked out of her hand. Luneda whirled around in place, seeing no one around her. A ballistic roar thundered about her ears, causing her to drop to her knees, hunched over in pain from the grating noise.

"Damn you! Stop it!"

Worthless human, she heard hissed at her.

She rose then, screaming into the brush, "I'm not worthless! You don't know what you're talking about!"

"Oh, I don't?" mocked the voice, and she turned around on the ball of her foot, appalled that the one who taunted her was part of the kind whom she loved. "You don't think you're worthless? How you constantly vie for attention, how you pity yourself—you don't think it's pathetic?"

Luneda covered her ears, tears streaking down her ashen face, "I'm not pathetic!"

"Of course you are—you're just like every other human on this planet: selfish and destructive."

Luneda rocked herself on the ground, weeping heavily and shaking her head. The girl heard the distant trampling of horses and she looked up, aghast, to find two figures rapidly approaching.

Her heart leapt into her parched throat when she saw it was Lucian with Natalie; how did they manage to find her?

Grabbing the knife, in another desperate act, Luneda aimed the dagger straight for the unconscious Odette, when she was tackled, of a sudden, by Lucian, arms locked firmly around her waist. She yelled in rage and moved the dagger to stab him in the back when her wrist was wrenched back violently by Natalie. Swiftly, Natalie pried Luneda's fingers from the blade and tossed it aside, helping Lucian hold her down.

"Let me go!" she cried, jerking away from them. Thrashing, she managed to hit Lucian close to the groin and she whirled around hard to punch Natalie in the face. Cornered like an animal of prey, Luneda reached for Natalie's throat first, squeezing tightly. The older woman's dark eyes widened, windpipe constricting.

Having recovered a little faster, Lucian lurched for the blade and unthinkingly grabbed his sister's hair, pulled her back, and sliced through the jugular vein. A torrent of crimson glinted in the faint, golden rays, staining Natalie's and Lucian's clothes.

Coughing and gasping, Natalie rolled away as Lucian let the body fall in a lifeless heap, already starting to lack in color, watching with a heavy heart and nauseated stomach as blood poured in large quantities on the ground.

Natalie collected her wits and ran over to where Odette lay on a crude, barbaric stone. "Your Highness, wake up, please!"

Tearing himself from the sight of his sister's body, Lucian rushed over to her, brushing the white face. "My lady, wake up."

Of a sudden, the earth began to quake beneath their feet, and both man and woman reached for Odette to wrap her in their embraces. They watched in terror as the ground seemed to form a gigantic maw, flames spewing in bright colors around the edges; the sides crumbled, inching Luneda's still body closer to the hollowed pit.

As the body fell, the two saw the faint outline of a soul—Luneda's soul—trying to escape the confines of her fiery prison. The soul shrieked, rampant with mania, "Let me go! I don't want to go here! Help me, please!" They watched in inexplicable dread as the soul continued to caterwaul, its wispy form singeing at its edges, though no scent other than fire, smoke and brimstone was pungent in the air. Luneda's soul continued to moan, calling for their help. They turned away, unable to stare at the agonized expression on her face.

She even turned and cried to the sky, apologizing for turning away from those sacred teachings, falling for the lie and refusing to believe.

God remained silent.

Odette's eyes fluttered open, unaware that she wasn't the one screaming for once; they finally widened largely as she saw Luneda's soul cry and moan. But it wasn't the poor girl's soul that caught her main focus—behind the soul, halcyon optics gleaming even brighter from hellfire, a claw pierced through the soul's chest, hooked and began to drag the soul to the earth's depths, still weeping.

And as it shut, she swore she saw a tender smile flicker on that face she knew so well.

But she must've imagined it.

XXX

Natalie bustled around to finish her chores, not used to the quiet.

While it had been a tragedy, she trusted in the divine will of her God, thanking Him for His ever constant protection from the evil forces that dwelled all around her, even in places where she thought no one could reach her.

Still, she had to wonder if she would ever look at things the same way ever again.

XXX

Lucian lay down upon the feathered downy in silence.

His mother was dead, his father was practically a living corpse, and now Luneda was gone as well. Though he felt the idolater received what she deserved, he felt a slight shame that, maybe, he hadn't tried to love her enough. She had despised him since they'd first met, but he felt a tiny measure of responsibility for her.

He sighed and rolled on his side, staring out the window.

No one would be able to understand why he wanted to decline being king, but, upon Odette's insistence and kindness, she told him she didn't mind. He knew he could never truly love her more than a friend and he felt torn between accepting the offer and asking to divorce her. The latter was unheard of, but she needed a life with someone she loved, even if he disapproved of it.

Because it had never been himself that she was in love with.

XXX

Odette looked out at the cold, dreary night, a new moon in place, blending with the blackness that engulfed the normal blue sky. A draft hit exposed skin, and she turned around slowly; her heart began its rapid dance as the figure emerged like a grotesque monster from nightmare.

But she felt no fear as the creature moved toward her, murmuring words that she would usually hear from another set of lips, from a human tongue; it was much more enjoyable, however, when those words she always believed to be from someone else had belonged to the one before her all along.

As she felt herself pushed against the bed, she raked her hands over the frame, delighting in ever delicious shudder.

"Can you say my name for me…?"

"Thrax…" it rolled off her tongue, the ending of the name mingling well as she hissed in pleasure.

Pulling the demon closer, her lips skimming on cold, alien skin, the young woman knew this was a heinous act to be committing; but she found herself giving into the lascivious desire that overwhelmed her, knowing she belonged mainly as a child of God.

As she moaned she asked herself if she would be forgiven for not only this time, but for everything, starting with the first sin.

XXX

Finis