Disclaimer: I do not own the Tairen Soul Series by C.L. Wilson. However, I do own Angela, non-canon and fictional magic.
A/N: Keep up the reviews :-) I write for us. Also, keep me posted in any confusion regarding story flow, GSP, etc. Definitely a lot happening to Angela. I promise this story will end happily and justice will be served. Angela will never be sexually abused. Here is an extra long chapter for the wait :-).
Ch. XI: Fury and Might
Cyr did not dare move closer to his shei'tani.
Krekk, he thought frantically. Think Fey. Only centuries of discipline allowed him to tuck his emotions inward as he focused his energies toward removing Angela from this man. He chose not to wield red fey'cha for fear of accidentally hitting Angela.
The messenger smiled cruelly against Angela's temple.
"Thought you could hide from me forever, petchka?" He sneered, pulling Angela's head painfully with his hand knotted around her plait.
Angela could not take her eyes of Cyr's.
For some reason, she could sense Cyr's emotions but not his thoughts.
«Fey,» Bel commanded. «Weave invisibility. Do not let him know we're here.»
Angela could vaguely sense a presence around her in a loose circle. What's going on? She wondered, before quickly focusing on her own predicament. I have to get away. I'll die by my own hand if that's what it takes to be free of this monster.
Her eyes brimmed with tears and she cursed as the man swiped his tongue against her cheek, revolting her.
"Where are my platinum tears, petchka?" He growled, making Angela stiffen. "I want that money and you're going to give it to me one way or another." He threatened. "So I suggest you cry willingly or I'll take you the way I want to. After all, I'm sure your...fellow over there has taught you a few things, hmm you little slut?"
Angela's eyes flashed platinum. A deep force within her snarled to get free.
She was terrified of the man. Her fury stemmed from her helplessness and her disgust in how he would say such things regarding Cyr.
She felt a poking quill in her sleeve. She forced her platinum tears to fall from her eyes creating a platinum ball; which the man quickly caught.
His grip loosened enough and Angela struck his daggered hand with the metallic nib slamming it with all her strength through his hand.
The messenger screamed and Angela felt herself be pulled back by a pair of hands as the messenger lunged at her.
Cyr quickly shoved Angela behind him toward her lu'tans and lunged at the messenger slamming a fist into his face and throwing his fey'cha at his other hand. He pinned his enemy against the stone wall. His eyes sparking white as he removed Air from the messenger's lungs.
"Tell me why I should let you live, krekk." He demanded icily.
"You can't touch me like this," the messenger managed to choke out. "I'm a Celierian citizen and a Norban...same as her…"
"Actually," Marissya coldly corrected from behind. "Angela is a Fey citizen. She is a shei'tani to one of our esteemed warriors whom you've insulted at your greatest peril."
The messenger blanched. Marissya quickly healed Angela's injuries as Ravel wove Fire to sustain her. Angela stared at Marissya. I'm a Fey citizen, now? She wondered dazedly.
"Permit me, teska." She continued to Cyr. "It is my duty as Celieria's truthspeaker to question this man and why he hunts and haunts kem'nessa."
Cyr slowly retreated as Marissya's lu'tans surrounded the man and he immediately went to his shei'tani.
Angela warily watched everyone. It shocked her that so many Fey would protect her. No one blamed her for anything and were very respectful toward her.
Cyr sheathed his remaining fey'cha and held out his hands to her. "Shei'tani," he said quietly. Angela gulped and hesitantly took his hand as he led her away from the scene.
Ellysetta scowled at her quintet. "I need to speak with Angela." she said hotly.
Kieran grimaced. "Mela says she needs to be with Cyr...she's having...a difficult time." his eyes returned to their more focused state as he regarded his Feyreisa apologetically.
Ellysetta sighed and buried her face in hands. "I have a cousin." she murmured. "How is it she had to be in Norban of all places?" She asked guilty. Her red hair spiraling about her.
Her quintet exchanged worried looks while they awaited their Feyreisen's orders.
Cyr led Angela to their suite and shut and secured their rooms. He took a deep breath and turned toward a wary Angela.
"Siesk'ta." Cyr began.
Angela stared at him uncomprehendingly before bursting into tears.
Grimacing Cyr slowly approached her murmuring soothing words in Feyan as Angela furiously rubbed the side of her face where she had been licked.
"Setah, ajiana." Cyr said becoming distressed as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wet it with faerilas.
He placed it against her cheek and wiped the man's spittle from her.
Cyr carefully took Angela's hands, while ignoring her platinum-and-sel'dor tears, he kissed them gently.
Surprised and worried as her tears clogged her throat she watched Cyr. Her shei'tan kissed her hands until he reached her wrists.
"Teska, shei'tani. Talk to me." Cyr said softening his voice. "Who is that man? I need to know so I have all the evidence to try him."
"Y-you'd believe me?" Angela whispered, sniffling.
"Aiyah," Cyr answered automatically.
Angela hiccupped. "His name is Ivan." She answered thickly. "Ivan Dew, my father owed him money, and," Angela clamped her eyes shut. "And since everyone's dead it falls on me to repay him or become his...whore." She sniffed, hunching her shoulders. "I've always had platinum tears but they never show up consistently." Angela continued upset. "I suspect it's because I try not to get too angry or any fiercer emotion. That's when they appear. But I've been unable to contain them, really, since Kyle died and I'm sure he caught wind that I was in the forest." She took a deep breath. "My brother always tried to protect me and Mama said we could always use the tears if money was really tight." Angela tensed. "But one day Papa and Mama got into a nasty argument and Papa reminded Mama that I wasn't his daughter." She said in a low voice. "Papa swore to Mama he'd never sell me; but I'm almost 25." Angela lamented finally looking at Cyr, and she tried to remove her hands from his grasp but he held on. "Any unmarried Norban woman―unless betrothed―becomes property," Angela hissed the word. "Of those priests."
Angela's dark presence shook and she shuddered, praying Cyr did not feel it.
Cyr stroked Angela's shoulder. "That's horrific, ajiana," The Fey acknowledged. "What are these priests, exactly?"
"They said I'm a monster and a witch and need be purified." Angela cried, finally disclosing her secret. "I won't be sold or branded or touched like that again." Angela declared wretchedly. "I'll kill myself before that happens."
Cyr immediately pulled Angela in his arms and sat on the bed with her legs over his lap. "Nei," he said disconcerted. "Do not, shei'tani. You're safe now." Cyr swore, tilting her chin and staring into her beautiful grey eyes. "What do you mean touched again?"
Angela blinked back platinum tears at Cyr's fierce, protective expression. She gulped and her heart skipped a beat at his defense. No one's ever looked at me that way before.
"They tried to exercise me." She said meekly. "With needles and I don't know what happened, only that Kyle carried me away with Mama at his heels and she nursed me back to health. Even Papa was nicer to me after that." She leaned hesitantly into Cyr's hand. "Kyle said if push came to shove and I was still unmarried then he would make sure Brother Able married me because he was Kyle's best friend." Angela grimaced. "It sounds silly now; but at the time it seemed like my prayers had been answered. But then I had to sneak away in the tunnel system."
Cyr frowned as he caressed Angela's cheek. "Did you want to marry him?" He could not help asking. If yes then I don't know what I'll do...I cannot fight a pledged heart. Shei'tanista or no.
Angela scoffed. "No!" She denied vehemently. "He always was there as a friend to Kyle and I respect him for it; but he only ever said yes under the condition that it was a last resort."
Appeased, Cyr carefully picked her up and led her to the bathing chamber. He used his magic and turned the hot water taps. He pulled a chair from the bedroom and gently deposited her as he unwove her plaited hair, massaging her bruised scalp. Angela turned to face him when he moved away.
Cyr smiled sadly at her. "I need to touch you where he hurt you." He lightly caressed her cheek and Angela regarded him with wide eyes.
"You're not angry with me?" She meekly asked.
Startled, Cyr stopped his gentle ministrations. "Nei," he answered slowly. "Why would I be?" His worried amber eyes searching her piercing grey ones as he took her slender form in wondering if she is bruised where he is not allowed to see.
"Because I broke the quill." Angela whispered. "I'd never held one before." She quickly added. "It's so pretty and I liked it in my sleeve...because I...I know I'm not supposed to ask so many questions―and I won't I swear," Angela promised, unintentionally making Cyr's guilt worse. "I just, I'm sorry."
"Angela," Cyr said appalled and guilty. "Nei, nei." He wanted to rectify the this awful situation and cursed himself for contributing to her anxiety and unfortunate worldview. "I had meant that to be a courtship to practice writing and reading today. It's easily fixed, Angela." Cyr said slowly holding Angela's cheeks between his hands.
"You're priceless." Cyr said evenly. "No amount of gold, jewels, clothes or any material is more beautiful or precious than you." Angela clearly wanted to believe him.
"Do you want to know why?" He pressed. Angela gulped and she was taut with fear and hope. "Because life is precious, priceless and beautiful." He explained. "I can't imagine a world without you, Angela." Cyr said guiltily. "I know I was wrong today and wanted to apologize to you and I was scared," he hated to admit it. "out of my scorching mind when you were held hostage." Cyr pulled her close and turned the tap off.
He kissed her cheek and temple where Ivan Dew had licked her.
Angela willingly lowered her defenses and sought Cyr. She felt his unwavering sincerity. "Even if I'm a bastard?" She whispered, daring to believe.
Cyr pulled back enough to look her in the eye. "You're kem'Angela." Cyr informed her steadily. "Your birth parents matter not to me when kem'mela and kem'gepa claim you along with Lady Marissya."
Angela lunged at Cyr and wept against his neck. Her emotions span the gamut of raw, disbelieving, hopeful and on the road to recovery as Cyr crooned and stroked her hair.
Cyr tenderly kissed Angela's tears away and lightly touched her mind sending her reassuring waves.
He gently extracted himself, alarming Angela.
"Las ajiana," Cyr told her kindly. He handed her a towel. "I'll be waiting for you." He rose and left her to bathe, shutting the door behind him.
Cyr's tender expression melted becoming deadly serious.
Angela stood there blinking stupidly after her shei'tan before the hot bath beckoned her. Undressing and folding her clothes beside her towel she stepped into the bath.
"Thank you," she whispered to the ceiling.
Cyr paced before Spiriting Angela's lu'tans regarding Angela's attacker.
«Lady Marissya would like to speak to you both privately at your earliest convenience.» Sian said. «How is she?»
«Distraught but settling.» Cyr replied frankly.
Angela bolted from her sitting position in her hot bath. Her skin pinking as she gasped. Her mind reaching Cyr's needing his reassurance.
Surprised, Cyr ended his Spirited conversation and knocked on Angela's door.
"Shei'tani?" Cyr called through the door.
He heard a splash and Angela appeared on the other side of the door shielding her body from view, dripping over the stone-and-marble floors.
"I need a lot of things―but I need to warn the Feyreisen and the Feyreisa about the Smudges," Angela said faintly. She frowned at her sudden weakness, alarming Cyr through their connection and in her voice. She rubbed her pounding head. Her vision dizzying as Cyr swore. He opened the door and picked Angela up summoning Angela's towel and her dress as he rushed toward the fireplace and dried her with Air weaves before the fire warming his natural cold magic as he studiously avoided looking at her torso while drying her body.
It happened so fast Angela barely knew what happened as Cyr slipped her dress over her head, sat her down and pressed faerilas at her lips while depositing her at the table and chairs. Obediently, Angela drank as Cyr cut fruit and placed them in a bowl for her. She ate in silence as Cyr worriedly muttered under his breath in Feyan.
Scowling, Cyr straightened. "Wait here," he said imperiously while Spiriting Lady Marissya. He opened the door, sealed it and all but ran to the kitchens.
How could I have been so careless?! She's starving. Krekk!
Furious and anxious, Cyr grabbed various hot food and stuffed it in their de facto picnic basket. He nearly ran into Lady Marissya.
Cyr lowered his seal and the Fey entered. "Kem'nessa," Lady Marissya said relieved. Her arms wrapping around the surprised young woman as she simultaneously spun golden weaves.
Angela sighed contentedly as Cyr set her food before her. She started to protest when Marissya caught her eye.
«Nei, ajiana.» The shei'dahlin cautioned. «Your shei'tan needs this. You've had a trying day and must rest.»
"But I can't," Angela protested aloud. "I have to warn the Feyreisen and the Feyreisa about the Smudges."
"Smudges?" The Fey exchanged bewildered looks.
"Yes," Angela said stubbornly. "several Norbans have Smudges over their hearts. The most I've sensed is six."
The Fey's faces became grave. "Mage Marks." They said darkly.
Angela's expression was almost comical as she tossed her dark red curls over her shoulder. "My goodness." She commented. "In Norban, they said only the Fey had such," she looked away. "sorcery. But all the priests and some of the king's men have them, too."
Marissya took Angela's hand, forcing Angela to look at her. "Y―you can see Mage Marks without Azrahn?"
The young woman frowned at her. "I don't know what that means," she said apologetically feeling inferior atop everything else. "I just sense things in proximity to sel'dor."
Cyr had a tick in his jaw.
"Kem'falla," Cyr said without taking his eyes from Angela. "What is your suggestion for Angela's health?" he asked Marissya. "I'd rather we not delay informing the Feyreisen or the Feyreisa."
As a shei'tan his duty is to his shei'tani...as a warrior his duty is to the royal family.
He was torn. Perhaps I should resign? He thought soberly. It seems kem'Angela isn't safe here, either.
Angela scowled at Cyr. «What's running through that brain of yours?» She demanded irely. «You're unnaturally serious and I can only guess it has nothing to do what what I just said.»
Marissya felt the stinging emotions between the matepair. "I want Angela to remain where she is," she answered diplomatically. "but the Feyreisa wishes to speak to Angela anyway and I suggest in one bell we reconvene?"
Cyr nodded and opened the door for Marissya to play messenger.
As soon as the door closed Angela rushed toward Cyr. "Cyr―," she began as her shei'tan pulled her to him.
"Merciful gods," he swore between gnashed teeth. "You're not safe here in the palace of all places! And," Cyr hesitated making Angela force Cyr to look down at her.
"What are you talking about?" Angela repeated. "I'm very safe when I'm with you." She said staunchly, silencing Cyr. "You're jumping to conclusions." Angela said hotly. "I should've been paying attention to my surroundings instead of gadding about with Brother Able." She sighed, seeing Cyr's eyes flicker with dozens of emotions. "Brother Able joined the clergy because he's not a fighter." Cyr's eyebrows rose slightly at Angela's derisive tone. "He'd've had a guide and someone handy with a blade." Her shoulders sagged. "I completely forgot my blades and I know better, Cyr." She continued. "Please...let's just tell them what we need to and then can we have a nice pot of keflee and just...be? Together?" Angela placated.
Cyr stared at her. "Baska." Cyr muttered. "But I protect you and I could've―,"
Angela placed a finger at his lips. "You came for me." Angela interrupted steadily. "I haven't been a good shei'tani," she continued softly. "But I think we need to table this conversation and eat because I know the Feyreisen and the Feyreisa will come shortly."
Cyr reluctantly agreed and found himself eating a mild dinner by Fey standards with his shei'tani.
She's right. He thought as they ate in silence and just finished putting away their meal and straightening the room when the door knocked.
Angela strode to the door before Cyr did giving him a look which clearly indicated he not argue with her.
"Hello My Lord Feyreisen, My Lady Feyreisa." She said in her politest tone with a warmer look in Lady Marissya's direction.
"Angela, Cyr," Rain spoke for Ellysetta who looked as unsettled and guilty as she felt upon learning her long-lost cousin is the stranger before her.
Lady Marissya availed pertinent facts concerning Angela's upbringing and mistreatment to the royal couple after truthspeaking the messenger, Ivan Dew.
Cyr arranged for several chairs for their hosts and provided faerilas and indicated for everyone to sit. There's something more. He thought shrewdly.
"Angela," Marissya began, spearing the royal couple a look as Angela turned to her voice trustingly, causing Cyr to relax. "There are a few points we need to discuss." Marissya began, knowing Angela respected candidness.
"Fire away," Angela answered. Her attention fixed on the shei'dahlin.
"I had to truthspeak Ivan Dew under shei'dahlin touch." Angela flinched. She earnestly believed the Norban talk concerning the subject are not an exaggeration.
"He admitted you were always his main target for your platinum-and-sel'dor tears and that your...biological father owed him money." Angela stiffened, withdrawing slightly into Cyr.
Angela nodded once as her mind raced and Cyr's stony expression remained.
"You actually don't owe him anything," Rain interjected. "since your tears already paid his debt several times over."
Some of the tension eased from Angela's shoulders. I knew it.
"Then is he…?" Angela trailed off.
"That's the problem," Ellysetta blurted, her verdant eyes wide and her expression equal parts guilty and sincere. "the letter inside the box told us your real father is the Fire Master of Feyan Arms* Lord Tajik vel Sibboreh―who is also my uncle."
To Angela's credit she did not bat an eye. "Oh?" Angela asked. "So you're telling me Ivan Dew is what exactly?"
"They cannot let him go nor can I properly avenge you because he's one of King Dorian's messengers and carries a protection seal by his hand." Cyr surmised with a growl. "I'll not have Angela near him." He declared coldly.
Angela tilted her head in confusion. She did not protest Cyr's protection but she is concerned Ivan Dew will find a way to get to her again. I don't fancy another knife to my throat.
"You're a Fey subject because you're a shei'tani and your living parent is Fey." Marissya added. Angela took a swig from her faerilas. "Who knows?" She questioned.
"Us and the Feyreisa's quintets." Marissya answered surprised.
The young woman smiled relieved. "Then let's keep it that way." She declared and held a hand to stop the ensuing argument. "You are the Feyreisa," Angela told her new cousin. "Your safety is of the utmost importance. I'll only jeopardize that as a potential hostage." She said flatly. "Y'all cain't keep ano'her king's messenger indefinitely―not with all the political issues surrounding y'all's kingdoms." Her Norban accent thickening. "You should just wipe his mind and let him go and none the wiser." Angela straightened. "Also, don't treat me anythang special like so as not to attract undo attention." I have enough as it is thank you very much. And I just can't deal with having the Feyreisa as my relative. I ain't special and it's time everyone learned that here. Where were y'all when I was growing up? Angela always wanted to be special to her family; but vying for attention and being a 'good Norban girl,' did nothing for her. Well, she thought as her eyes flicked to Cyr. maybe not nothing.
"What about Tajik?" Rain quietly asked.
Angela shrugged. The meaning's still the same.
"What did the letter say?" Cyr prompted as Marissya passed it to him. Angela eyed Cyr carefully. I've never seen...such coldness before. She wondered worriedly.
Cyr read the damning contents regarding Angela's mother. If anything, that hurt Angel worse knowing her mother wished she had never been born. My whole life's just one cosmic joke and a lie.
"I do have a gift for metal," Angela said instead, her shoulders sagging. She gripped her goblet to focus. "I was never allowed to practice blacksmithing but Kyle taught me so I could fix his mistakes while he hunted for the family." Angela gulped. Cyr put his arm around her shoulder and Marissya reached for Angela's other hand, offering silent comfort as her true blue eyes brimmed with tears.
"I sense sel'dor and metal in the same way and I sew it together like a dress," Angela said trying to explain as her mouth twisted. "Unfortunately, all my workings make the metal...too strong."
Rain perked up interested while the remaining Fey looked confused.
"Wouldn't that be a good thing?" Ellysetta asked for everyone.
Angela bitterly laughed. "Not to Pa―Vandar...I almost ruined him because my designs are...too elaborate and not...very many could lift my blades." She said grimly. "Once the bear attacks came more frequently then I was useful and my blades whomever wielded them...if they could lift it were saved from the bears thanks to my…'witch powers.'" Angela's head pounded.
"What do the plans say?" Angela asked, needing to change the subject as her memories bombarded her.
Marissya handed them the notes and Ellysetta frowned. «Why doesn't she read them herself?»
«Marissya said Angela is illiterate.» Rain Spirited. «Cyr planned on starting today.»
Ellysetta wisely remained silent. I could've been her. She thought humbly.
Angela snorted at the plans. "These won't work without my blood and the contraption." Angela said dismissively. "T' be hones'," Angela said to the Fey. "It's been a long while since I blacksmithed I need a ton of materials to test―." Angela straightened. She set down her goblet and abruptly stood, nearly tripping as she banged her shoulder making her way to her borrowed trunk.
"Of course you half-wit," Angela swore as she pulled her lu'tans' fey'cha and returned to the table making a loose circle with the blades pointed inward. "D'you have a Spirit Master who'd let me borrow his blade?" She asked.
Rain called Bel in the room and the somber Fey handed Angela his blade, hilt first
"Thank you." She said sincerely before turning to Cyr. "May I have your blade, too?" Angela asked as Cyr promptly gave it to her.
She nicked her fingers despite Cyr's louder protest. She splashed her blood across the blades and smiled faintly.
Do you want to show off? Angela asked her dark presence.
A keening snarl emanated across the Tairen Souls' senses and the remaining Fey stared at Angela as her eyes glowed banded platinum. The blades glowed the corresponding colors to their Elemental and Spirit magic.
The blades glowed with a platinum ivy pattern before settling.
"Try using this on sel'dor," Angela said triumphant and exhausted.
