Marked For Death

chapter 4 Ash remebers

Asherson sat in his father’s study, watching the vein in his father’s forehead twitch as he yelled at someone over the phone. “I don’t care how you do it. I want those feeders here by Monday and if they’re not its your head!” His father, Marcus, yelled, slamming the phone down on the hook. “Asherson.”

“Father,” He answered, frowning slightly, “What’s this about? I have to get to the dorms before orientation.”

“I know, just wait for a second.” Marcus said, digging thru the papers on his desk, finally finding the right form and smiling. “Alright, It seems that now is a good time to talk about who you need to be.”

“I know, I know. Get married, have children, kill my enemies.” He said, checking them off on his fingers.

“I’ve been very lenient with you over the years. I let you befriend who you wanted, go to a school of your choice and make most of your own decisions because it was your life, but your decisions do not only affect you anymore and therefore I am forced to do this.” His father stated.

“Do what?” Asher asked, his anger growing.

“It’s for your own good my son.” Marcus said, handing him the folder in his hands. “April Constantine, this is her file with her basic information.”

“I can see that.” He answered, fingering thru it. “But I don’t understand what this has to do with me.” He paused, looking at her marital status. In big black letters it read ENGAGED. To the right in his father’s sloppy hand writing the name of the fiancé had been filled in. “No…I refuse!”

“I’m sorry son, but in this matter, you have no choice.” His father answered.

“I don’t even know this girl!” Asherson yelled, his eyes never leaving the name scrawled down in pen :Asherson Cornelius Drake. “Who is this April Constantine?”

“it seems you are forgetful, just like your mother.” Marcus answered, standing and walking toward the door of his study. “You will marry her, after all, were you not the one to demand her hand in marriage all those years ago?”

“What nonsense are you spouting old man?” Asherson cried, chasing after his father. His father merely smiled, walking down the halls of their mansion until they reached the courtyard.

“Perhaps you should think back to a simpler time, “ he suggested, “In your fort of solitude.” Asherson finally looked up from the page, staring at the hedged maze that he had once named his fortress of solitude. “Take your time. School will still be there after a good day dream.” And with that he took back the file and walked off.

Asherson stalked into the maze, Thinking back to his fifth birthday when he had claimed this as his fort. He looked around at the sand bags he had imported inside and his toy soldiers he hadn’t touched in years. He sat down on one of the bags, looking at the cement patches he had used as a drawing board. Asherson saw horses, dragons and just a lot of scribble he could no longer decode. “Crazy old man has no idea what he’s talking about.” He muttered.

After a few moments he gave up, deciding if it was worth remembering he would have already. As he stood, something shiny caught his eye and he moved in deeper, and deeper, seeing all the silver spoons he had brought out and used as catapults and jewelry he had snatched from his mothers room, which he had used as loot. Eventually he reached the center of the maze which was a grassy circular patch in the middle of the maze, with cement turning it into almost a dome or a cemented igloo. My head quarters, he thought, feeling some his childish joy creeping back into his mind.

His wooden rocking horse sat, fossilizing, in the corner, holding up his old wooden sword. Asherson reached for it, remembering long days and nights spent fighting imaginary enemies with his trusty sword. He must have been ten when he had stopped venturing into the maze to reach his head quarters and he couldn’t seem to remember why. He set the wooden sword back down, focusing on the scribbles he had made on the walls. Again he saw horses, dragons and unintelligible scrawling, but then on the wall farthest from him there was something different, something new. He saw a pair of blood red eyes etched into the wall and sketches of a girl he didn’t remember.

Asherson sat on his wooden horse, praying that it wouldn’t break and thought back to when he had made those drawings. A girl at a party had caught his fancy and for days after all he could do was think about her odd eyes that made her so pretty. Before he knew it, he had drawn a pair of big red eyes, coloring them crimson, after the girls odd name. Her odd name, Crimson…Crimson Constantine. “Oh crap!” He shouted, feeling the horse crumble beneath him and landing uncomfortably on the floor.

He stood, running out of the maze, getting lost a few times. Eventually, he made it out and found his father in the middle of a feeding. “She’s okay with this?” He asked out of breath. Marcus looked up, unlatching himself from the girl. Two workers came, grabbing the girl and carrying her away.

“What do you mean?” He asked, wiping the blood around his mouth on the large cloak he wore.

“Crimson, does she…want to?” Asherson answered, keeping his eyes glued on the floor. Why was he acting this way, he sighed, fussing over a girl he met nearly ten years? He was Asherson Drake, there was no girl who didn’t secretly desire him, but still….

“She has no idea you two are engaged, if that’s what you mean, nor does she know just how important she is in the bloodlines.” His father answered. “Take a seat and let us discuss this better.” Reluctantly, he sat down beside his father.

“Why is she so important?” he asked after a few moments of silence.

“I cannot tell you why, just how we know.” His father answered. “That night son, you saw a secret that only a hand full of people have seen and even less that are alive to this day.” He turned to Asherson, raising an eyebrow. “You saw her eyes. I didn’t realize at the time, but your mother had wondered into the maze looking for you and came face to face with bloody eyes drawn onto your wall.”

“What’s so special about her eyes?” Asherson asked.

“That I cannot tell you either.” Marcus answered, standing up to go get a few vials of blood and pouring them into two glasses, then reseating himself.

“What can you tell me then?” Asherson snapped, frustrated, swatting away the blood his father offered. So far, he wasn’t at all intrigued.

“I can tell you that out of every pure blood in the world or otherwise, you have been chosen for her, our future. All you have to do is marry her, impregnate her and for the love of all that is unholy keep her happy because if she isn’t…” He looked at his son. “If she isn’t a wrath like a thousand cursed blades will befall you and everyone else.”

“That’s not at all frightening.” He whispered sarcastically, letting the news he had received sink in.

“It’s alright to be frightened Asherson. In fact, I think that fear will help you win this girls heart and once you do,” His mouth turned up into an eerie smile, “You’ll be the most powerful man in existence.”

Asherson laughed, finally picking up the glass. “Where do I sign?” He joked, bringing the glass to his lips and draining it dry. sure it’ll be a task, but How hard could it be, he thought to himself, she already said yes once. His phone vibrated and he looked down. Crap, he thought, I forgot about Morgana.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 comment and vote tell me what you think