THE CONFLICT #2

CHAPTER 10

NOVENA

Soraya shows me to an adjoining bathroom through sculptured wooden double doors. There are white stone floors and dark wood beams supporting the skylight, while live brightly green firms cover the walls separated by dark wooden pillars. The bathroom is nothing less than elegant and nothing less than I expected in a palace. A black stoned freestanding bath stands in the large open room. Steel French doors sit at the end of the room accompanied by long steel windows, opening into a small courtyard filled with the most bizarre plants growing within it. I run my own bath as Soraya goes to fetch food and clean clothes. I spear the tiny courtyard a last look, deeming the walls far too high to attempt to jump even if I had to stand on something. Alone with my thoughts, I sink into the heat of the water. It laps at my chest as I lean my head back. I don’t know how long I stay in the warmth of the bath, letting it smooth my troubled mind and sore body. Things seem so bleak. I almost can’t bear to leave the fake safety of this room. When my skin is water wrinkled, I finally force myself to face what lies ahead of me. Soraya sits patiently, reading the book she had out early. I wonder what types of books they have here. I give the book a longer look. The large body wrapped in leather with gold typing on the cover. Other than that, the book is actually quite plain in appearance.

When she hears me exiting the bathroom she looks up, “Did you find clothes for me?” I ask quickly.

“Yes Princess.” She indicates a simple off the shoulder black dress lying on the massive bed, with nude heels placed neatly on the floor.

“Am I going somewhere?” I ask suspiciously.

Soraya nods her pretty blonde head in answer, tucking the inconspicuous book away then stands with her hands behind her back as I change into the outfit. When I’m done, she shows me out the door and through the grand suite. A single guard leans against the wall outside this particular suites doors.

Soraya indicates the male before me. "This is Manley. He has been given the duty as your protector."

Great. A babysitter.

"Nice to meet you Manley." I say to the male who appears to be in his late twenties.

He inclines his head in acknowledgement, "If you'll follow me, Princess Novena."

Soraya offers me a last smile before disappearing in the opposite direction that Manley heads in. I cautiously trail behind him through the castles halls taking in the ancient cold feelings of the passages, complete opposites to the rooms within the castle. Wolves roam the halls, thankfully giving us a wide berth as they stand guard, the colour of their fur adding to the chill. I wonder where he’s taking me, but I reckon that I’ll find out very soon. This is obviously Zelus’s doing. I doubt Manley has the authority to just make leave with me without an order or permission from Zelus. I feel my stomach twisting and knotting with anxiety as I consider what exactly would require me to leave the suite he has caged me in. I’m fiddling with my fingers, my chest rising and falling quicker when Manley indicates for me to enter through the last tall doors by myself. I take a deep breath to still my racing heart before doing so. The room is dissonantly silent when I enter, my heels echoing on the floors. I noticed the weird white flowing dress first. Then a most welcoming face. The relief of seeing Emmaline alive and unharmed is overwhelming. I cry out as I rush to her, engulfing her in my arms. She laughs, holding me just as tightly. She pulls away slightly, offering me a radiant smile before completely releasing me. The whole embrace happens rather quickly, bringing my attention to the other people present. The Regius are all here, in what can only be the throne room. Its brilliance puts ours to shame with its temple-like architecture and scripted scenes of wolves and moons painted on the ceiling. Statues of creatures I've never seen before snake around the room, falling short before the curved chairs leading up to the throne, light pouring in from behind it. I see Zelus, an elegant gold crown sitting on his brow as he lounges with an ease that bleeds strengths and sureness of himself. He is sitting on the very throne depicted in the Foreign Muses. His male cousins stand at the bottom of the stairs, dressed as stylishly as Zelus in tunics of golds and blues and whites and reds. Their clothes pressed to perfection and tailored especially for their height and width. They could almost pass as human. Almost. The beasts resting just beneath their skins are never far away. I can see the animals gleaming through their eyes despite their show of elegance and refinery. They appear otherworldly dressed as they are with their signature white-silver hair and pointed ears. I warily eye the weapons strapped to their bodies, no doubt more are hidden beneath their fine clothes. I find the royal's grandfather standing next to the throne with a hand resting on the top. Lastly, I turn to see Serena, sprawling on a chaise longue in a long dress, coloured in the lightest of blues. The transparent material wraps around her body and sits at her calves with a bow tie at her slender neck. A figure stands behind her, his hands behind his back. I meet the silver eyes staring back at me. My lips part in surprise as my eyes widen in disbelief. The boy in my dreams. Not an actual child. He stands taller than me with lean muscles and guarded features. I'm not sure entirely why I refer to him that way. Perhaps it's the softness in his features. Or the vulnerable looks I've seen when he thought no one was around. Whatever the reason. He is here, in the flesh. I must finally be losing my sanity.

The thought has my nails digging into Emmaline’s skin, causing her to gasp in pain, “Am I dreaming? I can’t tell anymore.” I say through gritted teeth.

Is this truly happening? Can I trust my mind to decipher if this is truly real?

Emmaline grabs my hand, trying to relieve my grip, “What are you saying Nova? You aren’t dreaming.” She hisses back, casting a glance in the same direction I frown in.

I turn just in time to catch her reaction. Could I trust that? Does it mean that this is reality? I see her brow rise in surprise. Then she glances back at the throne. I can practically hear her counting.

Zelus.

Phobos.

Pallas.

Selene.

The Grandfather.

She stops back at the male standing behind Selene. That's one too many. How are we suppose to know the exact number of people related to the Regius family? We only know what is exposed within the pages of the Foreign Muses, a monthly magazine that covered the royal families in both the North and South.

“That's odd… However, I don't think your dreaming. I'm pretty sure we are seeing the same person.” She says, finally losing my iron hold.

She rubs angrily at her tender flesh, reddened from my abuse. She doesn’t understand. She sees another Regius. But I see someone else entirely. If he’s here, then this must be a dream. It can only be another dream. He keeps a blank face although I see the way he presses his lips together and shifts on his feet in discomfort at being stared upon. My angel is never cold. Never to me. If this is a dream why isn’t he coming to me like he always does? Does he even know me here? Is this the real world? Does that mean he isn’t the same person? Does that make him my enemy?

“She is right, child. This isn’t a dream despite whatever reason you deem it to be.” The elder Regius says, I forgot how good their hearing is supposed to be.

I notice everyone seems to ignore the elephant in the room. The extra Regius. No one makes reference to him or acknowledges his presence. I drag my eyes from the angel’s face but not before I see the silent accusation Serena points in his direction. I take a deep breath, steadying my nerves before I straighten my back and drop my shoulders. I gather my wits, straightening my back to stare down at my opponents.

“It seems I am not feeling myself still.” I say, deciding to play their silly game. However, the sharpness in my voice is openly apparent.

He nods in understanding, offering us a crinckled smile openly filled with kindness. The gesture is so shockingly genuine. I wouldn’t have expected it, especially with what my family has taken from him. The generations of wars and their uncanny brutality in killing the Werewolves Royals.

“My name is Aarth Regius. I’m sorry my grandson used such tactics to secure you and your friend. But I was told that it was necessary.”

“Why are you not King, Aarth?” I question the old Regius.

Aarth chuckles, “Our customs might seem strange to you, especially since your father ruled without your mother, but our customs and beliefs are law here. I am mateless and a mateless male cannot be King. That cannot be changed or negotiated in light of any and all circumstances.”

“So, I’ve heard.” I see Zelus’s deep silver eyes narrow under my scrutiny. “However, I didn’t know it included males that already were once mated.”

“Such is our way.” Zelus answers quickly, cutting his grandfather off before he can offer a response.

I laugh deep in my throat, “Well then, I’m afraid you’ll have to find a new king.” I say to Aarth.

“Or a new mate," I sneer at Zelus, "because I will never willingly subject myself to this hellhole.” I tell Zelus with finality.

Pallas smirks, “I find that I agree very much with the little princess,” He says, making my skin crawl, “You could just kill the mace b***h and find a new mate.” He grins, clapping his hands together once in excitement.

“You’re standing too close Pallas. You don’t seem like the type that would handle blood on your shoes well." I say mockingly, "Wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself.”

Aarth interrupts Pallas’s next snip, “I can imagine that this isn’t easy for you Princess Novena and that even now you are not yourself. But the more time you spend with Zelus the more the bond will grow and draw you two together. You will find that the bond thrives in proximity, which was one of the arguments used to justify the mission of your capture. The goddess never makes a mistake.”

“I can’t believe this is even being discussed!” Serena snaps in irritation. “You don’t have to be mated to this b***h, Zelus. I can’t stress that enough!” She says pointing a manicured finger at me. The insanely long stiletto nails are a bright red. With the tone of her voice and lethal weapon like those, perhaps I should be concerned about my safety. “She’s a Mace for goodness sake Grandfather! They killed our parents!”

Aarth eyes snap to her, sharp as daggers, making her shrink back ever so slightly, “That is not lost to me, child.” He says and it's the first signs of anything other than understanding and kindness that I see in him.

“Perhaps, you should not speak until you’ve met your own mate, Rena.” She huffs at Zelus’s pointed words.

Suddenly the door I previously entered through swings open, catching everyone by surprise. I wonder who would dare interrupt a meeting of the royals. Falling closed loudly, a tall black-haired woman storms into the room. Clearly, whoever this woman is, she is unafraid of their fury. The look of utter despair and rage on her striking face makes me take a step back. Catching the movement, she locks eyes on me, like a woman scorned. I hear Zelus shut a warming. The hatred burning in her eyes for me is breath-taking. Nothing can stop her intent as her fingernails grow long and sharp, and her eyes turn black as midnight. She’s in front of me quicker than humanly possible, as if she had manifested there, her clawed hand raising to strike me. I shrink back in a pathetic attempt to protect my weak self from her sudden attack as the room erupts into action. But her hand doesn’t move to my astonishment. She struggles to lower it, grunting with effect.

“What is this!” She shrieks as Zelus and his male cousins surround her.

We all stare at her in mutual confusion until slowly I realise it’s magic that holds her in place.

“Emma…” I mutter to myself, turning to find her fingers pointed straight in the black-haired woman’s direction. I move closer, “Let her go.”

I speak softly but they all hear.

Phobos takes hold of the angry woman, securing her as he shouts commands at his confused guards – all of whom are staring at Emmaline with different stages of shock. I cross the short distance to Emmaline as her body begins to shake and her lips turn purple.

“I will deal with you later, Moira!” Zelus snaps angrily as three guards including Manley rush in to relief Phobos of his burden.

Phobos particularly shoves her away from him, glaring at the males dragging her away.

“How dare you just leave me for her! She’s nothing! She can offer you nothing!” Having recovered from her shock, the female screams and rages as the guards attempt to force her from the room.

“I’m sure your father will have a similar opinion of you when I’ve discussed your indiscretions here.”

She pales at his words, finally falling silent before disappearing in the hampering hold of the guards.

“What are you?” Phobos's deep voice interrupts the current situation leaving the door to slam shut in the distance.

Emmaline licks her lips. Her breath comes in quickly as she tries to pull herself together. Serena is sitting up now, anxiety written all over her perfect pale features as she stares in horror at Emmaline while the angel boy from my dreams meets my gaze. His brows are crushed together in what I can only imagine is concern as I notice the way his fingers have dug into the chair’s back.

Pallas draws his sword swiftly as Emmaline rights herself. “We should kill her right now! Before she has a chance to do something to us!” He sneers, pointing his sword at her throat.

“Are you joking!” I demand frantically, twisting Emmaline away from his reach.

"Perhaps she is a witch." Phobos says.

"Witches cast spells using books. That is not the same thing." Pallas snaps. "She's dangerous."

Zelus loses his temper. “That’s enough!” He bellows, “Enough!”

The room stills, and I wonder how close he is to violence with his claws visible and his lips drawn back to showcase his long canines in a display of his dominance over everyone here. I’m sure my face is as pale as Emmaline’s at the sight. Reluctantly Pallas lowers his weapon, just as Emmaline throws up the content of her stomach. I rub at her back, feeling the shivers running through her body. I never knew she could do that. I wonder if she did. I wonder if being violently sick is a side effect of using her magic. I shriek in dread as she slips in my hold, falling to the floor as dead weight. I grapple with my hold, only to stand gapping as Phobos catches her. He swoops her up into his huge arms with ease. My mouth works, as I battle to decide, whether to insist he give her back or leave her in his capable hands. I don’t notice Zelus’s approach until his hand is on my arm and drawing my attention.

“What is she?” He questions carefully.

"Human, of course!” I snap, my pulse racing.

What else could she be? Looking at her sickly face, drained of its colour, I start to wonder if she's made a huge mistake showing her magic.

“But she can use magic.” I mutter softly.

I don't know if that makes her a witch or not but I shouldn’t be telling any of this to them and I wouldn't be if it wasn't obvious what just happened. I mean, didn’t they know what the boy from my dreams could do? Obviously not with the way Pallas reacted. She’s different too. Special.

“What’s wrong with her? Why does she look like this?” Phobos demands angrily.

His pointed ears lying back and lips curled in displeasure shows how aggravated by the situation he truly is. Confused by his uncharacteristic show of emotion would be an understatement. I feel the pools in my eyes gather and slip over the brim as feelings start to become overwhelming. She's my best friend and she seems to be growing paler and paler by the second. Surrounded by enemies, displaying how truly weak my spine is, I feel dread swallowing me whole.

“I think she used too much of her life force.” I say as another traitorous tear rolls down my face.

How pitiful. How embarrassing. I cannot even keep it together. I feel Zelus pull me to his chest, engulfing me in his strong scent as I work harder not to sob with raging emotions. What if this information will help her? With Corax so far away, across the border, I don’t know if she’s going to make it on her own. It feels like such a betrayal! But I can’t not tell them. If they don’t have all the facts, how could they save her?

“What does that mean?” Phobos snaps with impatience but I can’t answer.

I’m frightened by his animosity. I’m scared it’s going to be channeled to Emmaline.

“That she’s dying I think.” Pallas answers passively, peering around Phobos’s shoulder to look down at Emmaline’s sickly pale face. Like she is just a source of entertainment and nothing else.

“Take her to the infirmary Phobos. See if they can’t do something.” Zelus orders.

Phobos starts moving immediately with Emmaline's slim body still cradled in his arms. A doll in comparison to the huge monster holding her. I feel my anxiety rising at the thought.

“Hey,” Zelus says gently, his hands close around my head as his thumbs swipe at my tears on my cheeks, “Do you know anything that can help her?” He asks, his silver eyes drawing me in.

Somehow, those swirling eerie depths make me feel safe, like he really cares, like he really wants to help her. I debate whether I should say anything. If she dies it won’t matter anyway.

I chew my lip with indecision, “Yes, but he isn’t here!”

Zelus looks puzzled, “He?” he prompts.

“Corax.” The name bursts forth, “The raven. He isn’t here because you left him in the South.”

He rubs his hand over my back in a soothing motion as he holds me closer. And I don’t know why I’m letting him when all I want to do is scream at him. This is his fault! This is all his fault! If we had never been taken, she would never have been forced to use that much energy. She wouldn’t be dying. But then again, they were just going to take me. I was the one who screamed and woke Emmaline up. Still, they didn’t have to take her. Why did they take her too? Why!

“We’ll do what we can for her, you have my word.” He swears. I get the feeling that he doesn’t do that often. Make promises to people.

But what is his word truly worth? Humans swear and lie straight to your face in the same breathe. I wonder if it's any different here. I know there is nothing he or his people can do. She needs spiritual energy, a lifeforce to feed from and only Corax can do that for her. Only Corax can save her. I wonder if Corax can feel her dying. If he feels as useless as I do to save her. I wonder if he is afraid of dying.