FOREVER KNIGHTS: #2 Rise of the King of Assassins

Merwood, Dread Hideout

ACHARIUS

A few days later, Chastain was in her chamber. Looking at the ceiling, thoughtfully.

“What is it you think of so deeply?” Margaret queried as she passed the doorway. Pausing when she saw Chastain’s sad face.

“I miss my sisters. I wonder if they’re...”

“I’m sure whatever guided you to that doorway watches over them even now.”

Chastain worried her lip. “Do you think?”

“Is that why you sleep so little? Their absence?” Margaret leaned over. Straight white hair framing her cheeks as she caressed a palm over Chastain’s forehead soothingly.

“I was accustomed to talking with them until I fell asleep.”

“So, speak to the wind as you did your lovely sisters.” Margaret gestured around. “Perhaps it’ll carry your words to them.”

Chastain gave a hesitant nod.

Margaret breezed from the room.

It was the first night Chastain confided to the darkness. Words increasingly forlorn.

But night after night she heard nothing back.

Someone was listening…In a cold cave, in the dark. Acharius Sevence sat on his lone wood chair staring into the blackness. Looking at a gray ceiling jutting with stone spikes. Water dripped close by. And beyond that...

Her voice. And increasingly sorrowful child.

I hear her voice everywhere I go.

The Merwood was a relatively small stand of trees branching from the Netherwood. Separating the Dread Hideout from the Netherlands. The trees of the Merwood were tighter, larger with massive draping leaves and shrouded in dangling vines.

That night Acharius woke to a vision of vivid green eyes flashing in the dark and somehow knew instantly. It’s the child’s eyes.

He stared at the dark cave wall. Breaths heaving as he met the green gaze coloring the dark like someone lighting a torch. Why am I seeing them?

He knew she was living in Meredith House he’d seen her going in and out.

He’d confronted Mags and Agatha who refused to give her up despite that she may belong to Radix. Damn stubborn old women.

He’d warned them the child could prove a danger to them. Perfect bait sent by Radix. But they’d argued they’d not speak of him and made him vow to stay away from her in-case she did report back to the demon. And like a fool I agreed.

I need to know if she’s Cimmerii.

Seeing the strange color of her eyes was foreign. Different.

I’ve never seen anything like that. He who’d always seen in black and white.

At length the image of green eyes, her eyes, faded as she went to sleep.

He was once more left with only the drip of water echoing through hollow caverns. Wondering. What the devil was that?

Today the child wove through the trees toward the cottage, oblivious to the creature trailing her on silent paws.

She shouldn’t be out here alone. Acharius’ irritation with her presence was mounting.

It wasn’t uncommon for Dreads to come here to do their sacrificial rituals or for Cimmerii to patrol looking for Forever Knights.

For me. And the artifacts.

She lingered here and there to feel bark on a tree or take in the scent of a flower. The hood tried to contain her wild hair, but dark tendrils escaped.

She paused, tilting her face up to let vestiges of sunlight warm her. The hood slid back and hair that looked almost black to Acharius, suddenly turned flaming red. Sparkling light gray eyes burned emerald. The lavish circlet, a mimic of high-priced ones worn in Mane Country, scribbled into silver with opalescent pearls. Winking in the bursts of gold peering through the tree canopy.

He gasped at the blindness of color.

What is that? He tucked his nose into the fur at his shoulder. Shielding his eyes as he blinked against the foreign brilliance.

Who is she? He shook his head. Suddenly able to perceive color. Impossible!

He tried to focus. Getting a headache from the dizzying surge against his senses.

Chastain’s face fell, she lifted a bare foot and froze, glimpsing the mud drenching it.

What’s she doing? He saw a flash of her memory…

Bare feet splashing through icy puddles in a cold morning flight. Nightgown hems muddied. Shivering under wet clothes. More from terror then the chill.

Shaking her head, she returned to the present and stepped over the puddle. As her heel lifted a twining green flower wove from the water, reaching after her foot and then tipping onto the mud behind her heel as she put the foot down. The next footprint filled with green moss and tiny budding flowers. When her shoulder brushed a branch, it lengthened dramatically. Leaves unfurling in thick masses.

Acharius watched, stunned. Life blooms wherever she touches…A Dread? I’ve never seen magic this powerful.

A glance at her back revealed she was oblivious. Lurking behind her, he trailed her step. Never near enough to be heard…Her dark shadow.

I could kill her before she even knew I was here. That worried him. Anyone could sneak up on her.