Crown of Frost & shadows

Chapter 5 - Demons Part 2

A shove on her back sent Alarielle stumbling forward. “Get moving, faebitch,” a female voice sneered from behind her. Alarielle barely caught herself before she almost face-planted on the ground. She whirled around, finding Magra standing there with an annoyed expression.

“Get moving. You can w***e yourself out later,” Magra spat, her tone laced with disdain.

Alarielle’s fist twitched, the urge to punch the demoness clear in her mind. But she hesitated, weighing her options. She knew she could break through the chains with her magic, just as she had broken through Alina’s magical bindings. But neither she nor her magic knew exactly where they were, and she had no sense of the terrain. This group was headed to the Fae realm, which might be her best chance to escape if she played her cards right.

She bit back her retort, turning around with a forced sigh. “Wonderful, another ray of sunshine,” she grumbled under her breath as she walked toward the horses.

Alarielle stood in front of the white mare Magra had practically shoved her toward. “Get on it, or I’ll tie your chains to its hide to be dragged,” the demoness had said before walking to her own gray mare and mounting it with fluid grace.

“Come now, we don’t have all day. I’ll help you onto the mare,” Ravareth said as he approached.

Alarielle shot a glare at Ravareth and then at Zār, who was mounted on the black mare, his expression annoyed as he watched her. “I can get on a horse myself, thank you very much,” she snapped, trying to mask her vulnerability.

“Sure you can,” Ravareth replied, a smirk playing on his lips. “But it’s going to be a lot easier if you let me help you. Chains and all, you might end up on your face.”

Alarielle looked at the mare and her chained hands for a moment before biting out, “Fine,” with a heavy sigh. She shot one last glare at Zār, then at Magra, who sat on her horse, inspecting her nails with a bored expression. Turning back to Ravareth, she added, “But don’t think I’m going to thank you or anything.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Ravareth retorted, giving her a mock salute with a fist to his chest before extending his hand to help her up.

Alarielle let out a yelp as Ravareth grabbed her hips and hoisted her onto the horse as if she were a sack of potatoes. She barely had time to catch her breath before Magra rode up beside her, grabbing the reins of Alarielle’s horse with a firm grip.

“Don’t get any ideas, fae,” Magra muttered, her tone cold as she guided the horse forward. Alarielle clenched her teeth, frustration bubbling under her skin, but she kept her silence, knowing it was pointless to argue. For now, she needed to endure this and look for an opening later.

With everyone ready, the group began to move, Magra leading Alarielle’s mare as they set off. The forest seemed to swallow them as they rode deeper into its depths, shadows stretching and intertwining with the beams of sunlight filtering through the canopy above. Alarielle glanced down at the chains, their smooth metal reflecting the sunlight in harsh glints. Every time her eyes caught on the cursed restraints, her mother’s agony-filled cries echoed in her mind, a memory she couldn’t silence. She bit down on her lip, forcing herself to swallow the fear and stop the trembling that threatened to show on her face.

As they passed through the forest, Alarielle’s mind wandered, and then she remembered the name she had faintly heard before sleep claimed her the night before. Promedius, she whispered, feeling her magic stir. You told me your name last night, she said in her mind.

Her magic replied in a bored tone, What of it?

Alarielle pondered for a moment before asking, Wait, if your name is Promedius, are you a male?

Promedius almost laughed. No, faeling, magic doesn’t have a gender. I don’t fall into mortal constraints.

You’re speaking to me in my mind right now, but I could have sworn I heard your voice from outside when you spoke to me yesterday, Alarielle questioned, curiosity piqued.

That’s because I did, Promedius replied, a hint of impatience in its tone.

Can you not be vague for one moment and explain? Alarielle pressed, frustration bubbling beneath her surface.

I feed off your energy, so when you were drained of it, so was I. That’s why you couldn’t reach me when you tried. But then, as you regained it, for some reason you pushed me out of your mind onto your skin, outside your body. I don’t know how you did it, but that was also why I was able to sense the surroundings. None of your ancestors ever did anything like it, which suggests that you can probably do a lot more, Promedius explained.

Alarielle fell silent for a moment, trying to reconcile the information she had just received. So if you get pushed outward and I hear you from the outside during that time, will other people be able to hear you too?

Possibly, Promedius grumbled.

“What are you plotting, faebitch?” Magra’s voice cut through Alarielle’s thoughts like a blade. Irritation flickered across Alarielle’s face as she retorted, “Probably your death, but why would I tell you that?”

Magra narrowed her eyes, the corners of her lips twitching in a semblance of a smile. “You think you’re clever, don’t you? Keep that up, and I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Alarielle met her gaze defiantly. “Oh, I’m not worried about you,” she replied, the fire in her voice undeniable. “You’re all bark and no bite.”

Magra’s expression darkened, but before she could respond, Ravareth chimed in from the front, “Ladies, can we save the hostilities for later? I’d prefer not to witness a catfight in the middle of the forest, not that I would complain.”

Alarielle shot him an annoyed glance, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. Is everyone here an i***t? she thought to herself, a mix of anger and indignation surging through her.

Promedius snorted in her mind. I believe so.

I’m gonna call you Middy, Alarielle shot back at her magic. Promedius is such a mouthful.

You will do no such thing, her magic bit out, its tone sharp and annoyed.

And how will you stop me, Middy? Alarielle mused, the playful challenge dancing in her thoughts. Silence greeted her, and she felt a smirk tug at her lips.

They had been traveling for hours through the forest, and the sun was nearing its descent. Alarielle couldn’t shake the nagging thought that there was no way she had run that long to reach this place yesterday; so why was it taking so long to reach the Fae realm, especially on horseback? One thing was painfully clear—she was so hungry she felt like she might faint. She hadn’t eaten anything since the previous morning, and her limbs were starting to shake.

“Why do you look so sad?” Malrek’s small, boyish voice broke through her thoughts, pulling her attention. He was on a small brown horse beside her, his young face shifting to one of concern. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” she replied softly, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I... I’m just... tired.”

But before she could elaborate, a loud grumbling noise erupted from her stomach, making Malrek’s eyes widen in surprise. Alarielle felt heat rush to her cheeks, embarrassment flooding over her.

“You are hungry,” Malrek observed, his wide eyes filled with concern as he glanced at her flushed cheeks.

Alarielle felt her embarrassment deepen, and she nodded slightly, trying to mask the vulnerability that came with admitting it. “It’s nothing,” she insisted, but her stomach growled again in protest, echoing her need.

Malrek frowned, glancing ahead at the group before leaning in closer. “I can share my snacks with you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible above the sounds of hooves on the forest floor. “I have some dried fruit and nuts. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”

Her heart warmed at his kindness, and she couldn’t help but smile genuinely this time. “You’d share your food with me?” she asked, surprised by his generosity.

“Of course!” he replied with the enthusiasm only a child could muster. “I can’t let you starve! You’re a fae, and faes are supposed to be strong and magical, right?”

“And Zār is your...?” Alarielle questioned, intrigued.

“He’s my brother!” Malrek smiled broadly, his pride evident.

Alarielle’s mouth formed an “O.” “You guys live in a castle? Are these really demon knights?

“Yes, we do. What is a knight? I’m a—” Before Malrek could finish his sentence, Thalorin interrupted.

“Zār is requesting your presence, Mal. Go up ahead,” he instructed the boy, his voice firm but not unkind.

Malrek’s expression shifted from excitement to a mix of reluctance and obedience. “Okay!” he replied, reluctantly nudging his mare forward. Before he left, he turned back to Alarielle. “Don’t worry! I’ll bring you more food next time!”

“Thank you, Malrek!” she called after him, touched by his kindness as he trotted off toward the front of the group.

As Alarielle watched the boy go, her curiosity bubbled up again, wondering what he had been about to say before Thalorin interrupted him.

“Don’t meddle in affairs that are none of your concern, or is that what you’re here for?” Thalorin narrowed his eyes at her, his tone threatening.

Alarielle rolled her eyes at the demon and redirected her focus to the remaining pieces of dried fruit. Eating was a hassle with her hands tied; she struggled to hold the satchel between her legs while trying to fish out the snacks.