Moon Cursed

2.The Aftermath

Sylvia Vermillion

I groaned, dust strangling me. I peeled my eyes open and saw the wreck around me. Nausea kept barreling into me. I couldn't remember the last time I had iron anywhere near me. But by the looks of things, there was a lot. I saw the stones rumble, and there were several grunts as figures arose. One distinctly had shaggy red hair and silver eyes. I smiled as he came closer to me. He knelt, and I stroked my fingers against his cheeks, "Hello Vlady. I didn't think you'd come."

"We're going to remove the pillar from your leg, Princess," Vlad said gently.

"Why are you being so formal Vlady?" I asked giggling. He walked 'round with several other people. There was a gust an air and my legs felt so light. Vlad walked back towards me. I was soon flying as he picked me up and walked away. The rooms swirled past in shining colours.

As we began to make the way up the stairs, a dull pain started in my leg. The world turned like it had when I was a child. What had happened, Ryan hadn't broken my legs in months. He hated the healing process as it was harder for me to recover from. I clawed at my skirt, bringing up to see the damage. My foot was black all over. Lumps were protruding everywhere with purple and black smeared on top. My eyes rested on my knee, where a white dagger emerged from my skin. I had to fix this before Ryan saw. I felt the soft furs of the Northmen's clothing, comforting like a wolf pelt. I looked up and saw the Aelderman carrying me close to his chest. My voice trembled from the pain "Put me down, on that bench."

He grunted as he shifted me in his arms "I said put me down."

Seaxe began the next flight of stairs I watched, as he almost lost his footing on the narrow steps.

"You can't walk." Adam's head bopped up as he spoke.

"I'm not trying to walk. I'm trying to fix this." I motioned to my twisted leg. Aelderman Seaxe just shook his head and carried on.

"Goddess! Do you not understand? If Ryan sees me like this, he will flip, and he will only replicate this on my other leg." I felt my throat close in fear. I wanted to fall apart, but Vermillion women never cry. I had broken that rule so many times but alone in a room when everything becomes too much and then, I would walk out as if nothing happened. I placed my hands gently on his chest and pushed myself out of the iron basket he carried me in. I fell and screamed, as the open bone collided with the floor.

"Fucking hell." I bit my lip distracting from the larger pain. I turned and began to chant. Nothing happened. I felt no relief.

"Why isn't it working?" I mumbled repeating the spell, "No, nonononono. No this..." I felt sick to my core, and my throat tightened. I couldn't feel the hum of my magic, I couldn't feel the world extending like a tapestry, like usual. I turned and emptied my guts into the floor. It looked like such a comfortable place. I laid my head down and slowly drifted off.

Raymond Seaxe

"That is disgusting." Adam piped up. I turned my head, judging him. I sighed. I slowly bent to pick the Princess up again. I carried on up and left her waiting for the physician to heal her.

Emperor Ryan had assigned me to watch her as she recovered. As if anything would happen to her here. Forced to stay in her room like a dog, and watch her flee nightmares. It was hard for me to watch. There was always something going on, but with a brother like Ryan, who could blame her? I could never do that to Clarissé. The thought of harming her makes me feel sick. But somehow Ryan could justify it. I suppose murdering the rest of his family helped. It was weird at the time my father said there was something off the Vermillions were slowly going missing then suddenly turning up dead. It was like he lost his nerve and just decided to finish it. I looked at her as she cried in her sleep once more. She was quite pretty considering how many times Ryan must have hit her. The quick healing of her magic helped. Her face was oval and dotted with freckles. Like she spent all her time in the sun. I doubt she did as her ivory skin strongly contrasted the idea. She had faint rosy cheeks and dainty ears. Her fiery red hair curved around her face. The locks ran down to her waist. Ryan made me watch as they healed every new bruise, cut and graze. It was strange that her indecency didn't bother him in the slightest or the fact I was in the room as they did it. It's sickening. He was sickening.

The chair in the far corner was pilled with blankets for me. I even had to sleep in this room. The Haelyr Storm was late, and this seemed to push Ryan over the edge.

The doors slammed into the walls. Brilliant, Ryan and his daily check-up. However, this time having him stand close and talk to the Princess worked. She slowly opened. Ryan's face suddenly lifted as he saw her wake, "Goddess! Sylvia, you had me so worried. How did you even get near iron? It's banned in the Castle." he asked slowly squeezing her hand. She swallowed loudly, "I don't know. Honestly, perhaps someone brought it in by accident."

I could just feel the temperature drop as she spilt her lie. With the temperature dropping so did Ryan's patience.

"Don't lie. I hate lying and you know what we do to liers, don't you Sylvia?"

"Yes." she rasped. Her tone of voice was flat. She'd realised that no lie could ever pass her lips.

"Then why fucking lie? Hmmm. Do you have a secret? Is there someone you're sneaking out to see?" he took a breath ready to get enraged, "I will not give you the privilege of my trust. That was your last chance, Sylvia. You will go out to those two rooms you've just wrecked and fix them. If they aren't fixed by the time I come back. You will be staying with the executioner. You have five minutes."

Ryan left the room, cloak floating furiously behind him. She slowly peeled the sheets back. I watched unnoticed as she leaned forward moving her legs so they touched the ground. Under her breath, she whispered one, two, three. She was falling. The slow crumble of her hitting the floor with a cry, inspired sympathy. I walked forward, offering a hand. Her head stayed bowed as she dismissed me and tried again. It was like the floor couldn't hold her weight. My hands found their way to her waist as I moved her back onto the bed. Scowls pulled at her face so I moved away. Shakely, she grasped onto the edge of the bed and hobbled over towards the imposing wooden doors. Her feet never quite left the ground. Her hair was curling around her back. Little wisps stuck to her face from sweating.

"Let me help you..." I tried to grab her arm to support her.

"Don't touch me." she snapped her arm closer to her chest, "I do this without anyone's help so it won't change now."

I watched as her face contorted in pain, as she had to let go of the bed. I could just see the fall that was coming. I let it happen, trusting in her pride to just dismiss me. She began to shake as she pulled herself closer to her wardrobe. Legs like string tangled behind her. Her fingers clawed at the floor just trying to get closer. The scene shouted pity, "Stop staring at me like that. I can feel you cringe from here."

"I just." I sighed, "Will you please let me help you? No one will ever need to know, but it has to better than dragging yourself across the floor."

"You will know, and that is enough." she gritted out. Her hands reached the handles. The Princess pulled herself up, she was drenched in sweat. So much so that I could see through her shift.

She slammed the doors behind her. A form of petty pride, I suppose. I retreated to the coach. The fabric was stupidly soft. With those blankets pushed to the edge there was still barely any room for me. I carelessly shook my boots off and lifted my feet. The Southern heat was just like being on a spit every day. Not like I would know how that'd feel, Adam does though. There had been several occasion in which he had been strapped to a pole and roasted. The old tribes seemed to have an affinity for trying to cook him. It was mainly for his blonde hair, a sign of the sun god.

For once in this blasted place could there be no cool wind. With what some of the women wore, I was surprised they didn't smell. Velvets, corduroy and ottoman. All conservative and suffocating. The Emperor had tried to force Emmielia into one of their dresses. Her answer happened to be less than diplomatic.