Redamancy Ch. 10-11

Hello everyone.

My apologies to those who follow this series. I am incredibly sorry about my delay. I recently had two deaths in my family, both of whom I was very close, and, one of which, was very tragic. I've been in the pits lately and been up to writing. Once again, I do apologize for my lack of updates. More to come!

Please, enjoy.

~E

Chapter Ten

Black robes swished through the gaping hall as the figures quickly strode through the stone interior, their footsteps echoing throughout the entire castle.

Word had been spreading of her appearance. Word about the missing girl with the purple eyes, the one they'd been looking for, for almost two decades. She had been taken from her room, an orphan babe in the Adraemor Kingdom palace, by thieves who'd wanted to sell her. She was the last of the Ravelon line; the rightful heir to the throne of Adraemor.

Her family had been slaughtered, all ten of them in their sleep but she had been stolen just hours before the uprising. Before the now empress resided over the kingdom.

Fat lot of good the previous emperor had been. Ruling with his emotions rather than logic had him spiraling down into a bout of near chaos with his kingdom. When she took over, the empress wanted to straighten the land out and did so with both her power and her skilled verbiage. She had been able to convince her subjects and advisors with just a slip of her tongue.

The queen had ruled Adraemor, side by side with her husband and with the best intentions and regards while also searching for the lost princess, Avelyn, somehow raising three sons in the process to become the future ruler. She would be damned if the last Ravelon child were to resurface and claim her prize, the golden throne. Empress Jehenne's men and advisors were the reason she now ruled Adraemor and she was not willing to let that go.

After birthing three sons, she knew she had to establish her bloodline for the crown and ensured that none of her subjects would question if she belonged on the throne or not.

However, there was one being in the entire world who could thwart her plans and that was Avelyn. She sported the telltale violet eyes of the Ravelon family and anyone who could travel with a mouthpiece would surely recognize her. Jehenne forbade all talk of the color purple so her people would not remember who was supposed to sit above them.

The Seekers entered the grand throne room, their boots clacking on the marble flooring, causing the queen to jerk her head up upon their entrance. Her indigo eyes cut to the four men bowing before her, hope evident on her face. She turned away the advisor who didn't glance in their direction but rather kept speaking about the importance of feed and land. He seemed annoyed but bowed his head and climbed down the five-step dais, leaving the meeting for he knew was not invited.

The Lead Seeker, Sir Syne, stood up and held his arm to his middle. "My queen, it's wha' we've thought."

The queen rose, her black gown hugging every curve of her slender form, the bodice causing her breasts to appear plump and round for a babe. Her dark eyes looked down her thin nose at the rugged man, a silver eye patch covering one gray eye. He had a scar under the patch, and she would know, she'd seen him without it many times. Her ruby lips were pressed together before she uttered the word, "And?"

His chapped lips smiled at her. "It's her, yer highness. It's Princess Avelyn and she's trapped in Ieslal under King Cassius' care as a slave. Know' by her new name of Devyn."

The name sounded familiar to Jehenne. Where had she heard it before? Perhaps in passing from years ago when she was but a child. No matter now. The Seekers had located her, the only ones allowed on the surreptitious task to bring the girl to Adraemor. No one was allowed to know she was still alive.

"We will travel to Iselal. I will retrieve that girl if it's the last thing I do," she threatened as she stepped down the dais.

She passed Sir Syne and placed a hand on his shoulder as she did so, an indication for him to await her in her chambers for later. With the current Emperor visiting neighboring kingdoms and doing gods know what, she needed the company for the night.

He nodded and motioned for his men to leave before he followed them.

"Princess Avelyn will not die by a Broslan's hand," she said, hearing the echo resound out around her. Jehenne glanced down at her left hand and saw the shadows forming between her fingers in sparks.

She twitched her fingers and it spread up her arm before she shook it to snuff the shadow out. Aye, the power was bubbling in her veins but she would wait until the time was right.

Chapter Eleven

He hadn't done this in quite some time, so he may be considered weak by the others.

Cassius cracked his neck and wrapped knuckles as he entered the tavern on the outskirts of Ieslal. One of the massive towers stood just to the left behind the giant wall. It was imposing in the late evening and sent a long shadow over this part of the kingdom. The King's Inn was where Cassius would go when he was much younger and in need of a violent release.

The owner was a stout old Broslan who was blind in one eye and sported a mean right hook. She was lovely once one got to know her, however she ran an underground business of providing a natural cavern beneath her inn for just what Cassius was needing.

He needed to fight.

Upon entering the tavern, he nodded to Odora who stood behind a wooden bar, scrubbing mugs and filling them at the same time. She may have been aged but Odora could work until she no longer was able to walk.

Flarin, his advisor, was directly behind him as he followed the lengthy line of Broslans down a winding staircase to the open cavern. A roaring crowd of pounding boots and raised voices greeted Cassius when he made it to the bottom. A group of muscular Broslans stood to the far back and waved him over. Pulling the black hood further down to conceal his identity, Cassius weaved in and out of the numerous bodies of Broslan males that thrashed against one another.

These were his confidants and sometimes, his bodyguards. Part of the Thirteen, these Broslans chose to serve and sacrifice their life for their king. King Riynor had his own set of protectors just like his father before him and so on. It wasn't that they were particularly needed as Cassius could defend himself if need be yet the extra help was welcomed.

The Thirteen escorted Cassius on political runs and visitations to other kingdoms. Typically, they all rode together on one of the many Midnight Rides the king demanded.

Syriaca grinned widely, his sharp teeth glinting in the low light from sconces adorning the walls. His cerulean eyes lit up at the sight of Cassius. Syriaca was his oldest and dearest friend and he was also the leader of the Thirteen. Having been raised together, albeit in separate parts of the castle, Syriaca knew the hardships Cassius had been through with his father. He even endured them with Cassius so he would never be alone. A jagged scar marred his right cheek, angry and brown, it contrasted vastly with his pale skin that he'd received the night Cassius nearly lost his eyesight.

"Syriaca," the king grunted and patted the Broslan on his back.

Syriaca nodded his greeting, knowing the law the king had in effect. However, Cassius did make exceptions for the Thirteen seeing as how it would be needed. Cassius often wondered why he made that law up. For control? Possibly. For reverence? Most likely. You want them to fear you, he thought to himself and knew that's what he wanted. After all, his father taught him that being a monarch was the most powerful anyone could be.

"How is the competition?" He asked in his native language.

Leuce, Syriaca's second in command, stepped up beside his cloaked king and bowed slightly so as not to draw any stares or to alert the others. "Fair game, sire. The champion, Thalanil Dorna, still presides over the title. He has beaten your score, your highness."

Brash and uncaring, Leuce would speak up to the king regardless if he was asked to or not. He was boyish in his appearance but he possessed a dark past of nonstop abuse by his mother. Like most normal Broslan families, one or both parents usually were domineering and foul in the upbringing of their offspring. It was horrendous.

Cassius groaned. He had been the reigning victor under the pseudonym, Kane, for many years. Ever since he reached the age of three and ten, he'd come into the cavern and fight. Until his father found out and had him beaten within an inch of his life. From then on, he'd sneak out of his tower with the help of Syriaca and Leuce so they could take their frustrations out on unsuspecting combatants.

There was a massive Broslan who stood in the middle of the crowd, his hands on the bare chests of two fighters, both sweating and heaving from their round. But they weren't finished yet; this little pause was merely an intermission so they could collect themselves.

"Remember, no magic," the arbitrator hissed before releasing the two, hormone filled males.

Cassius watched the Broslans fight one another. Their bodies were thrown at each other, punches and kicks landed on torsos and necks. Bites were made, claws were drawn, and even blood was spewed. He ticked in his mind how many times the taller Broslan knocked his opponent to the ground.

"That's Thalanil," Leuce muttered and the pointed to the Broslan currently gripping the other's neck.

Cassius winced when a resounding crack echoed across the cavern. His sensitive ears rang as he saw Thalanil grin wickedly at what he'd done. During these underground fights, it wasn't uncommon for the combatants to perish. However, according to Leuce, who stood behind Cassius murmuring nonhelpful comments about Thalanil, this wasn't his first kill.

"I do believe that was his fifth-."

The king nodded and briefly closed his eyes until Leuce finished his thought.

"-this week."

Never before in his life had Cassius ever felt nervous as he did tonight. It wasn't like he was being forced to do this although, he felt the need to hurt someone. It was a deep need that would bubble up out of him every now and then. And, after dealing with his brother-in-law, he was more than happy to pummel another Broslan into the ground.

A flash of violet caused him to jerk his head up.

It was gone when he met her eyes.

"My lord?" Syriaca tapped Cassius on the shoulder bringing him out of his reverie.

Earlier in the day, Cassius had sent word to his men that the champion would be competing tonight. This news had brought on the biggest crowd this cavern has ever seen and he knew he was ready.

He'd been training the last few months, quietly, before he slept. He would spar with his men, having built his muscle and stamina back up. He could fight all night long if needed. And, judging by Thalanil's brute strength, he'd need all the help he could get. Cassius was much smaller than the now reigning champion but he was also bright.

Intelligence and brawn went well while in the ring.

Over the roar of the crowd after the lifeless body of the opponent had been dragged off, the arbitrator announced the victor before he gestured for another adversary.

Heaving a sigh, Cassius took a step forward before he was violently pushed by Dreven, the youngest of the Thirteen and most wild, into the center of the cavern. Cassius will have the other Broslan's balls when he's done. Hopefully when he's done.

His nostrils came to Thalanil's slick chest. He slowly glanced up until his eyes were met with a piercing gaze of blue that were bloodshot. He's been bloodletting. Which was not technically against the rules but it was frowned upon. Cassius hadn't fed since the elf girl and was more than ready to shed some blood, whether it be his or Thalanil's.

The arbitrator made his same speech as before. "Remember: no magic."

Cassius rolled his eyes. He knew that while he had outlawed the craft, there were those that chose to still practice it below the surface of their world.

He flexed his jaw behind the cloth mouth covering he wore, the black material course and rough against his already tattered skin. It bore a stitching of a bottom half of a skull. He didn't dare wear his usual covering for fear of one of his subjects recognizing him outside of his castle walls. Especially in this type of crowd, surrounded by rowdy Broslans in an underground cavern, throwing fists at each other for entertainment. That wouldn't be very kingly of him, now would it?

"The vanishing champion has returned! Kane will rally against Thalanil. Who will be the victor?" The arbitrator yelled out above the crowed before he disappeared into it. He will return when he feels like the fight should be over or if one of them dies.

Before Cassius could ready himself, Thalanil's left hand swiftly clocked him in the jaw. The crowd made an audible gasp collectively as Cassius's head swiveled swiftly to the side. Blood leaked out of the corner of his mouth, staining his mouth covering. He tasted the coppery substance on his tongue. No one has made him bleed like that since his father beat him senseless over twelve years ago.

With a sharp growl, Cassius leapt at Thalanil, his hands quickly finding the other Broslan's throat. He squeezed and felt the tiny bones crunch beneath his fingers.

Thalanil's elbow came up to jab Cassius in his ribs. With this motion, Cassius fell to his side, nearly howling in pain. He rolled to his hands and knees before Thalanil's boot struck him in his middle. He wheezed and his eyes bulged. Gods, was he really this weak?

His opponent merely laughed as he bent down to grip Cassius's throat to hold him high above the ground.

Cassius stared down into the cold eyes of Thalanil as his air began to fade. Blackness edged his vision and he knew he was declining fast. He was struggling against the Broslan's grasp, pulling at the large muscles that held him aloft.

He knew he could get out of this hold but for some reason, he wasn't trying. Now, why was that?

He scanned the crowd as if in a pathetic attempt or plea for help. His eyes began to water and his voice was dying out. But then, another flash of violet caught his gaze and he held it. Was this the slave girl from before? If so, what was she doing here?

The violet irises squinted his way and he found a new strength bubbling up within his body. He used his forearms to break the hold Thalanil kept on his neck. His opponent released him with a grunt and Cassius dove forward, using the momentum of his body to knock Thalanil to the ground. He placed a knee on Thalanil's throat while his hands held the other's legs down. Thalanil bucked beneath Cassius who then rose up fractionally only to bring his other knee down hard in his adversary's ribs.

Another swift jab had Thalanil gasping for air. Cassius even felt the crunch of several bones breaking with the force of his knee. One kick sharp kick and blood bubbled out of Thalanil's mouth.

In his hastiness, Cassius had forgotten about Thalanil's hands until he was flipped on his back with the Broslan mimicking what Cassius had done to him. He groaned loudly as each knee struck harder and harder than the last. Thalanil's fists landed on his stomach and Cassius knew his organs would be bruised for the next several weeks.

"Fuck," he muttered. He was beginning to black out again except from the pain this time.

He lay there, weak and unable to fight back. He was never this frail. He was always able to defeat his opponents easily. So, what was wrong with him this time?

Cassius wheezed as he was kicked roughly in his hip. Something warm and hot dripped out of his mouth, running down his neck to pool on the ground beside his splayed hair. Why couldn't he get up?

Thalanil laughed as he took a moment to cool down. He walked around Cassius in a slow circle, eyeing his prey. He moved his arms up and down to amp the crowd and they responded. Cassius's gaze followed Thalanil as he wriggled to move. He was able to prop himself up on his elbows but he was still fairly weak. Or perhaps he was too old, tired from age. He lifted his covering minutely to spit out a mouthful of blood.

He growled and fully sat up on his knees. The crowd roared and Thalanil only sneered. Cassius lifted his head in time to see a fist racing its way towards his face before two hands were around his head. He barely had any time to register the sting and the whiplash from Thalanil's blow.

"Shall I break his neck?" Thalanil shouted in their language.

Hoots and howls erupted from those surrounding them. They wanted this Broslan to kill their king. However, they did not know who it was who was about to have his life ended. He didn't want them to know.

Sure, it would halt his loss and declare him the automatic winner but he wasn't about that. He wanted to do this on his own.

He had to do this but-

Cassius let out a low moan before he fell to the ground because, with a quick flick of his wrist, Thalanil snapped the king's neck.