Celeste's life is far from the enchanting fairy tale one might expect from a princess. Her father, a ruthless and self-absorbed king, leaves a trail of death and destruction in his wake. To seal alliances and maintain his power, he arranges for Cele...
Before Walmoet can utter another word, I kick between his legs with all the strength I possess. It's an old trick and maybe a bit lame, but I don't care at the moment. He immediately cringes and shoots backwards. The dagger leaves my throat but takes the skin of my shoulder with it. I feel my skin being sliced open by the silver. In the corner of my eye, I see the white nightgown turn black.
I haven't used my magic for months, maybe longer. It always felt like something forbidden but we are past that point now. Before he can detach himself from his burse case he claps his back against the wall. He groans and drops the dagger from his hand, sinking to his knees on the floor. I jump up from the bed and grab the dagger from the ground, the sharp edge pointed at walmoet.
'You give me no other choice princess. Guardians!' As fast as my hand can move, I use magic to force the lock on the door. Less than a second later, there is a pounding on the door from the other side, shouting for us to open it. My heart races in my throat like never before.
I look at the door for a second and it is just that second too long. I land with a bang against the mattress, the dagger flying through the air. Walmoet catches the knife as if trained on it and grins. The shouting and banging on the other side of the door gets louder, louder.
There is a part of my new magic that I know I have, a dark part. I had vowed never to use it, knowing the consequences it could have. Killing 100 men already produces a lot of black magic but using it is worse, accelerating the consequences. However, my choices are currently being limited. That door won't hold for long.
Walmoet jumps up the bed just before the blood in his veins starts flowing in a different direction. He reaches for his heart. Sending blood. Dreaded, painful and, above all, incredibly forbidden. I feel the magic in my lifelines changing, burning. The blackness takes over my lifelines.
'Tell them to go away,' I whisper in a compelling tone. The white in the man's green eyes begins to turn pink. My fingers seem to cramp. He groans in pain and shakes his head, looking at the mattress. I pull the dagger from his cramped hand with my free hand.
'Tell them to leave, now,' I repeat again. The banging gets louder, the door shaking in its hinges. The first drop of blood leaves Walmoet's nose as he clings convulsively to the blankets. The pain in my veins begins to subside, giving way to a tingle.
'Go.... false alarm,' he gets out with difficulty. Instantly, the banging stops and the heavy shoes disappear in front of the door. The blood in his veins flows a little slower, the pain lessened. He gasps for breath, letting go of the blankets a little more. Before he can turn his bloodshot eyes my way, I grab the dagger and cut his throat in a straight line.
The moment the silver slides into his skin I think I can blow out my breath. The blade cuts through the white skin, giving way to the dripping red blood. My grip on his blood disappears. The man reaches for his throat, groaning as he tries to stop the blood. The gasping sound makes me look around me. The sound of someone choking on his own blood is neither pleasant nor everyday
No matter how many times he reaches for his throat, no matter how many times he makes an attempt to scream, it doesn't help him. I watch as my second husband bleeds out on the mattress. The once-white sheets are soaked with the red liquid. The white nightgown is stained with the blood. My hands are the only thing relatively school left.
'Y..Y-uo... wi-l-l...p..a', the dying man brings out. Death won't let him finish his sentence before taking Walmoet away. I blow out my pent-up breath, trying to realise what has happened in the past ten minutes. As luck would have it, he is dead. My heart pounds in my throat, my breathing hurried. I wait for the euphoric feeling, for his powers.
The red stone in the knife lights up, not much later the Onyx and finally my lifelines. Everything feels lighter, softer and easier. For a moment, I forget all darkness and see the future as a beautiful spring day. I expect the feeling to slowly fade away as it always does, slowly fading into the rain.
This time it reverses, abruptly. The floating feeling in my lifelines changes to an unprecedented burning pain. My right wrist seems inflamed, drawn away into hell. I reach for my wrist with my left hand in an attempt to quiet the pain, squeezing my skin. Tears shoot into my eyes as I cringe.
'Fuck,' I curse into the covers, looking for something other than pain. I've felt my back crack open, but this, this goes beyond anything else. Like my veins are on fire, taking all the nerves with them in the flames.
It feels like an eternity before the pain slowly, agonisingly slowly, begins to subside. A tear rolls down my left cheek. Folded into a ball, I lie next to Walmoet's lifeless body. My breath falters and I dare not move a finger until all that remains of the pain is a vague burning sensation in the distance.
My left hand slowly leaves my wrist. No blood, no wound, no swollen skin. Nothing is visible until you look very closely. In the middle of my wrist is a black stripe less than two millimetres in size. I run my finger over the black and immediately realise I shouldn't have done that. My wrist is on fire again for a moment until it slowly fades away.
Confused, I stare at my wrist, not understanding what has just happened. I don't have long to think, as I soon realise the situation I am in. I need to get out of here, and fast. I push myself off the mattress, grab the dagger and stagger to the bathroom. My body trembles, adrenaline flowing under my skin.
I walk to where the hatch in the floor is, thanking myself for my good preparation. I push aside the green flood cloth, pull open the handle of the wooden hatch and slowly climb down through the dark tunnel. I thank my good night vision that guides me through the icy and dark tunnel. I can just barely stand and push my feet into the wet cold wooden planks that form a floor.
Two turns to the right, one to the left and an endless corridor straight ahead take me to the door at the edge of the forest. I push against it but it doesn't move for a second, again no result. With some nervousness, I force the door off the lock with magic and push it open. The view of the dark forest becomes clear. Trembling with cold, I slowly close the door and walk to where Novak and Alisha would be standing.
For a moment, I doubt whether I have taken the right path, until I see Alisha and Novak standing with two horses at the agreed spot in the forest. They are whispering until Alisha sees me approaching in the corner of her eye. Novak I dare not look at.
'Celeste,' says Alisha in a shocked voice. I can't get a good look. The nightgown is soaked with blood, my legs are dirty with mud and how bad my face looks I can only imagine. She walks directly towards me with a coat in her hands. Without saying anything, I pull the green coat over my nightgown.
'What happened?' Alisha asks in a whisper as she hands me a pair of trousers. I say nothing and silently pull on the trousers and shoes she hands me.
'Are you okey?' she asks in a whisper. Again I say nothing. I tighten the last laces before taking over the horse from her and mounting the animal.
'Let's go,' is the first and only thing I say. Alisha clearly wants to ask me more, but she wisely keeps quiet. Together with Novak, she mounts the other horse and together we ride into the forest.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
