"Cursed blood"
Miyoko's POV
Ignoring my orders, Yukki kept a safe distance around me as I looked for Anteia. It took us around two hours to cease searching for her, it was more or less hopeless anyways. If someone like her didn't want to be found, or was simply gone, we wouldn't be able to find her.
With Ezamie in front of us looking for a shorter route we ran through the forest and it barely took us five hours to get home. It was far into the night then, Nina almost dozing off at the top of the gates before she let us through. I let them take Duke to the stables and went home alone. The chilly autumn wind playing with the red fabric of my cloak.
Leaves rustled on the trees as I made my way through the darkness of the night to home. All of the lights were out, Akira probably asleep along with Tsubaki, who was still wounded.
The doors creaked as I quickly shut them closed behind me, I took a deep breath. Home. I was finally home.
I was far from being at peace. I needed to send a letter to the Dragonlaws, who would probably call for an immediate meeting where my guards and I would be interrogated. Tsubaki was still hurt and Anteia still missing. I had to meet with the Treasurer tomorrow and get my portrait painted. But for now. I was home.
The stairs of the wooden house whined as I made my way upstairs, past my room and to where Tsubaki slept. Gently I opened the door, for a familiar sight to grace my eyes. The hearth filled with still red coals, Tsubaki asleep, her hair tied into twin tails. And Akira asleep at the bedside.
Akira. One of the more peculiar people in the village. She had long, beautiful fair hair, and bright, rose colored eyes. Almost similar to Ryuu's. She was beautiful, to be blunt, but her beauty exceeded that of a normal woman's. Every woman was beautiful, whatever hair, skin or eye color they had. No matter what shape or size. But I was fairly sure that Akira didn't fall into that category, and that she was different from a normal human.
I tip-toed past her, and crouched next to Tsubaki, stroking his long green hair. It felt like silk under my fingers. "I'm back, my friend." I carefully whispered, before I let my exhaustion finally take place. I stood up again, and soundlessly left the room.
Once I was back into my room I carefully put my sword above the dead hearth, and threw my dagger where it stood in my nightstand. I carelessly kicked off my boots and cloak, not bothering with my shirt and pants as I slipped into my bed, and closed my eyes.
The cold of my room kicked in, and something felt... wrong. Out of place. I stood up and I wished I didn't. Maybe then I could avoid the thousands of spirits haunting my room.
The butterflies flew around silently, their white wings flapping without the sound, and they moved around me. I jumped out of bed alarmed, spirits could only mean one thing, and I wasn't about to let Tsubaki die on me. I sprinted out of my room and slammed their door open, as if I could wake up death. But I was wrong.
Akira stirred in her sleep and woke up, she looked around, and as she realized she was still in Tsubaki's room, she left. Passing through me as if I was a ghost too. Tsubaki's chest slowly but steadily rose and fell. And that could only mean one thing.
I was dead.
I backed out of the room in shock. "When did I die? How did I die? Where did I die? How long have I been a spirit for?"The questions swirled as a tornado of thought inside my head as I hit the wall of the hallway.
Her voice echoed as a hoarse whisper, like the ticking of a clock.
"Murder... Murder.. Murder.. Murder..," and I barely mustered the strength to look.
Blood pooled around where she stood from her torso. Her skin was so unlike as it was when she was alive. It was white, pale, ghastly and stained with red and horrid brown. She had been dead for a long time.
"Murder... Murder... Murder..," she whispered and grin, her white eyes locking with mine. "I was murdered little red-head," she croaked, and short knife materializing in her hand. And before I could ask 'How?', she lunged for me.
I screamed and she froze in the air. "My lord!" echoed again, shattering the walls of my dream and waking me up. Anteia grinned one more time.
I gasped, suddenly sitting right up. My heart pounded against my chest threatening to break out, and sweat trickled down my back. Akira sighed in relief, and offered me a king smile, the sunlight pouring in from the window making her features seem angelic. Her words fell deaf to the ringing in my ears, but I swore I could hear Tsubaki as her mouth moved to utter the phrase:
"Welcome home, my lord."
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I rushed into my office as soon as I changed my clothes. The sun was barely out when I woke, and now it was barely 7 o'clock, but I needed to send this letter as soon as I can.
Grabbing a paper, some ink, and a pen, I started writing.
'Respectable Dragonlaws,' I jumped as the door opened, breaking me out of concentration.
"Good morning Miyoko," Morina greeted in her usual whisper. Her expression though, was sad. Her hair uncombed and bags weighing down her green eyes, her clouded gaze rested on me as she whispered: "Do you have time?"
"I'm in the middle of writing a letter right now. Do you mind if I finish?" the question hung in the air as I held her gaze.
"No. Not at all," she said and sat down on a sofa. Her resolve clear; she wasn't leaving until we talked.
I seriously had to hold more authority over people.
I finished faster than I wanted, slowly dripping melted wax and sealing the envelope with a stamp. "Just let me-" send this, I was about to say, but Morina snatched the letter away and it disappeared between her fingers.
"Done and done," she smiled, finally. "Now let's go eat before we talk. I can't think on an empty stomach," her smile broadened on her pale face, her usual chirpy and childish attitude returning.
She had already dragged me outside when I broke out of my thoughts. "Morina I need to have a portrait painted!" I protested but she giggled.
"Oh come on, I wouldn't want you doubling over again after eating Akira's food again," she said, and I couldn't find it in me to go back in and eat Akira's food.
So I let her drag me away.
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If Morina was anything, she was someone who controlled emotions and personalities at will.
It wasn't something I had wanted to know, I had preferred living in ignorant bliss with a powerful but innocent friend. But O'Tina forbid my life be simple. Morina, an immortal around 4000 years old, with a body dead already, was nothing but a thought.
It was something so complicated, driven from a simple question. "How old are you?" and she had giggled then. And then in her characteristic whisper she said.
"I had refused to count the years, but for your curiosity, Miyoko, I am around four thousand years old."
Now, I remembered her some weeks ago, sitting next to Anteia and drinking tea gone cold. Chatting away the night with me a Tsubaki; she was very talkative despite her voice. She had looked young then, barely older than me. Feigned innocent dressed in white-- she revealed her appearance was a glamor too-- and she said back then, that she was half that age. Barely two thousand.
"Five hundred years ago, I made a deal with Anteia. I would act and speak innocent, a proper kind and loving lady. So I would be stronger. I never told her the truth," she stated, walking around the basement, her bare feet carefully avoiding the gems on the floor. "I would never let her truly know how bad my whole existence was. She only knew fragments, since I would never want her to think me a monster."
"But why lie? You've known her for a millennium, a friendship that long--" she cut me off.
"Because I loved her. Because I wanted to stay by her side no matter what and she would never have feelings for me as I did for her!" she almost, almost shouted. I sat awe-struck on the root that served as a chair. Their house was a giant tree, so of course, the basement would be the root.
"But you just said-"
"Love isn't an emotion, attraction is a feeling, but love? Oh love is something that drives and powers your body even when you're half-dead. Love is a magic, the most common but strongest kind. But we can't wield it, it wields us," she shouted, for the first time. Her voice rang through the room, reminding me of the wind going through the leaves of the forest, carrying bird song and the smell of flowers. Her voice attacked my senses. It was everything in the forest that was elvish, everything humans didn't know.
And suddenly it stopped. She swore under her breath, and a metallic odor snapped me out of my trance. She sighed.
"But Morina this isn't bad! You can love her, still. No matter if everything else doesn't exist; your love does!"
"Sit back into the root," she instructed sharply, and I hadn't even realized I was leaning towards her. Slowly I settled back, in a half lounging position. The roots poked me in the back, and one scratched at my forearm, but I kept quiet. She grabbed a cauldron from the table.
"Morina, I'm serious. If love is what you claim. If it is a wielding magic--"
"There's no argument about it. There are whole studies about men and women who harvested that power," she said, dumping somewhat equal amounts of ichor around the roots.
"But still. If you can harvest that power, you can get your emotions back!" I said. I wasn't experienced in magic, but it couldn't be that hard to bring something back.
"I don't want them," she spilled the last bits of ichor on the floor. The purple liquid moving to form a circle and symbols inside and around it. "Now be quiet," an uncharacteristic, sharp whisper. A scowl that didn't fit her features.
I kept my mouth shut, but her's never stopped running.
Morina thrummed with power, her voice slowly raising, a haunting glow enveloping her. I gripped the sides of the roots harder. My nails digging into the soft texture.
I could feel the power pouring off of her now. Filling up the room, the stench of metals overwhelmed me enough to make me close my eyes. Nausea wrapped around me like a executioners rope, I burned from the inside, willing myself not to hurl out what we had eaten not an hour ago.
I regretted asking her to see what my blood could do.
I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood, tightening my grip on the chair. And then, it vanished, a warmth filled me up. The kind that made you drowsy and aching sleep. The roots didn't feel as uncomfortable as they once had, and sleep washed over me.
I heard a knife, heard it as it was unsheathed and my nerves went rigid. I was up in a second.
Morina stood above me, a knife in hand, her face expressionless. She used the knife to cut up her right palm, and black blood dripped from her hand. "My blood is black," she said, crouching down to my level. Her pale green eyes holding mine. "Because my body is dead. But your blood is so pure, so strong," she clenched her fist, her nails digging into the cut, drawing more and more blood, till the black was exchanged with red. "It could bring back the dead."
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Somewhere, where the lines of dimensions met, stood a king. Sad and bent.
Next to him, the first. Born of light and yellow.
Next to it, a place for the second.
Next to that, the third. Dead from dark but covered in green.
And next to it, a place for the fourth.
"First," said the King kindly.
"Yes?" Answered the first gently.
The third grumbled under their breath.
"I am afraid it is frightened," he said, disappointed.
"But," said the first, carefully. "It had been your decision, Harlequin."
"Well I too make mistakes," the King said and the third scoffed. "Go back, there is one more circumstance where you'll be able to help."
The first looked at the third, longingly, lovingly, sadly.
"Yes, your majesty." And the bright yellow light disappeared, leaving the King with the flickering distaste of the third.
"Why does ----- have to do everything?" It protested as the King turned.
"Because it is the first. The kind. The carer and mother. The only one aware of itself enough to go in there and remember, unlike you, the thinker and inventor. Or the protector, warrior and quiet."
"But what about the fourth? The lover? Where are they? They are the one I never knew!" It argued the King's secrecy.
"The fourth has two more names to gain. And then you will go home." The King revealed.
"But what are those names? King! Come back and tell me! Who is the fourth?! What are the names?!? King!!" The third shouted to no avail.
The King was already gone.