Bloodlines Pt. 06

Few of the guards dared to even speak to him unless Ian confronted them directly. Even then, there answers were short and to the point, their eyes constantly roaming the halls to see if anyone was listening. If there was any scuttlebutt, any rumors of what had happened; none of them would speak of it. Ian didn't care, not anymore. His decision made, he crept slowly down the hallway, making his way to the nursery.

Arriving at the nursey, Ian slipped into the alcove across from the door. He had planned this out, and knew the schedules. The wet nurse should be on her nightly rendezvous with her lover, a guard on the outer wall. All he had to do was slip inside, wake Lia and gather her things. He could be on the road in a matter of a half hour, plenty of time before anyone would discover that his sister was gone as well as him.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the hallway, glancing either way before hurrying across to the door. Lifting the latch, he slipped quietly inside, not daring to even breathe until the latch fell back into place. The room was dimly lit by a single wax candle burning on a table beside Lia's bed. His heart leapt as he stared at his baby sister, her cheeks glowing in the faint light, her golden curls reflecting the flickering light of the candle as she shifted in her sleep.

Moving as quietly as he could, Ian gathered up as much clothes and blankets as he thought he could carry, packing them into a bundle and hooking them over his shoulder. He walked up to the bed, his fingers trembling as he reached down and tucked the blankets gently around his sleeping sister. Taking a deep breath, he slowly lifted her, wincing as she wiggled and a soft whimper escaped her lips.

Holding her against his chest, he pulled his robe closed, cinching the belt to hold her in place as she snuggled against him, her breathing warm against his skin. Glancing down into the crib, he spotted a small straw doll. He remembered watching his mother make it for her while they were still at the abandoned keep. It was tattered, and in need of new stuffing. Picking it up, he stuffed it into the bundle and turned toward the door just as he heard the latch lift.

Chapter 28

Ayra rolled over, pulling the silk coverlet back over herself. She had hoped Ian would change his mind, that somehow what she was offering would be enough. She wished desperately to be able to give him what he wanted, what he needed, but that choice had been taken from her, stolen from her the very day he was born. She had prayed to the God's begging them to take the life of her father, to smite Jorda before he could complete his vile deed. The God's apparently cared no more for her than Jorda did.

She had lied to herself for years, telling herself he did what he did out of love but deep down she always knew, always knew he did what he did for power. She had thought to thwart his plans, but he had seen through it. He had forced a confession from her, and forced her to swear to do as he bid, forced her to swear in ways she struggled to forget. She scratched at herself, trying to claw away the tingling that just thinking of him brought forth. The loathsome tingling that she could not control. She hated it, she hated him, but most of all she hated herself.

Ayra stared at the empty bed beside her. She had woken when Ian rose. She had watched through barely opened eyes, heard his words and very nearly spoke. She could hear the heartbreak in his words and knew she was the cause. His pain, his anguish rested solely on her shoulders. She would do what she could to give him the time he needed, the time he needed to make good his escape. She waited; fearful that at any minute Ricah would walk in and discover Ian's absence. Ayra would let him go; she wanted him to go even more than she wanted him to stay. Her hand dropped to her stomach, her fingers caressing the smooth flesh as she swore she could feel the faint heartbeat already pumping there. That would keep her safe, at least long enough, long enough for Ian to get to freedom.

She knew he would take his sister with him. That only served to increase Ayra's heartache. She knew she had abandoned her daughter, left her to the cares of a wet nurse, and she knew that was one of the many rifts that had developed between her and her son. He would never understand her reason; never know that by distancing herself from Lia, Ayra was doing what she could to protect her. If Jorda knew there was an emotional tie he would use it, he would use Lia to ensure his plans.

Her stomach churned, the muscles writhing and twisting. She stared at the door, her fingers clenched into fists. Jorda had stripped her of everything. Torn apart everything she loved, everything she cherished. What he hadn't destroyed, she had. Ian would be safe, and Lia as well. That was all that mattered, all that she wanted.

"I don't care about my safety, not anymore." She muttered, a sense of purpose slowly filling her.

Chapter 29

Ricah stood at the window, letting the cool night air gently caress her bare flesh. The sky was littered with stars, their glow almost intoxicating as she watched them. The rustle of sheets behind her made her smile, a toothy smile that was not in any way pleasant. Reaching up, she carefully grabbed the necklace from around her neck and removed it, trembling as the crystal pendant lifted from her skin. Holding it up, she stared at it, her eyes drawn to the translucent crystal suspended within the silver six pointed star.

There was a simpleness to it, a simplistic perfection that concealed the power hiding there. At first glance, it seemed beautiful, the crystal cut with exact precision, the silver wire more rigid than anything so slender had a right to be. A longer stare tugged at one's subconscious, hinting at the vile rituals used to create it. She ran her fingers along the edges of the star, wincing as each point penetrated her flesh, drawing a single drop of blood from each finger. Hanging the pendant from the window frame she slowly turned, her fingers sliding across her chest leaving a faint trace of blood. She smiled as she stepped toward the bed.

"M'Lady, I really should..." the boy said, sliding to the edge of the bed, the blankets falling away to reveal his youthful skin, already covered in patterns of red scratches.

"Oh, don't be silly." She whispered, walking over and standing in front of him. "There are so many things I've yet to teach you. So many things you've yet to experience." She said, her fingers sliding under his chin and tilting his head back.

"But M'Lady, I ..." he stammered as she grabbed his head and gently pulled it to her stomach.

"Come now, Kyl. You surely must not want to leave yet." She said, her fingers gently pushing his head downward.

The boy was nothing, a mere toy, but it didn't matter anymore. She had seen the look on Ayra's face. The bitch was pregnant, pregnant with her son's child! It would curry her some favor with Jorda, at least for a while, but the bitch was weak, and in the end it would cost her, cost her everything. Besides, Ian had become almost mechanical in his services, no longer showing the passion she so desperately craved. If she would not be the one to supply the Bloodlines child, perhaps, perhaps she could supply something different, something even more powerful.

"Jorda's not the only one to have read the forbidden texts." She thought, reliving the words she had read just a week ago.

"If I can't have passion, I'll settle for fear." She muttered, pulling the boy from the bed, forcing his mouth against her cunt.

The boy attacked her pussy with the absolute eagerness only terror can instill. For the briefest moment she considered keeping him around, letting him service her on a regular basis. She shook her head as her hands dropped onto his back, her nails digging into his flesh, tracing another series of marks, completing the sigil.

"Enough!" she growled, shoving him to the floor and climbing on top of him.

Straddling his chest, she slid downward slowly, her pussy pulsing and throbbing in anticipation. As his cock pressed into her, she raised herself up, her fingers dropping down to grasp the grotesquely deformed appendage. Five faint red lines ran the length of his shaft, each one swollen and red. Her nail traced along his length, forming the sixth and final line before she slowly guided his cock to her hungry opening.

"Just one more time." She whispered, as she slid down his shaft, feeling the swollen monster stretching her to her limit.

As her thighs came to rest on his legs, she began writhing and twisting, enjoying the fullness she felt as her finger pressed into his chest. A trickle of blood oozed from the point where her nail bit into his skin and she smiled as he winced in pain. She looked down at the boy's chest, watching the dark circle, darker than the surrounding floor slowly creep toward the red marks, engulfing them.

As she increased her pace, her pussy beginning to truly enjoy the intruding cock, she smiled. The circle of darkness edged fully onto the marks as she shivered in anticipation.

"Timing is everything." She thought, her eyes glued to the circle as she pressed her nail harder into his skin.

Her thrusts increased, urging the boy closer and closer to climax, as she concentrated on her own need, her fingers moving to caress her clit as her pussy struggled to contract around the boy's cock. In her mind, the words from the book writhed and twisted, slowly coming into focus, slowly coming under her control.

She felt her legs beginning to tremble, her own excitement born out of what was about to take place more than anything the boy or his cock could accomplish. She flexed her muscles, gripping his cock, urging him on as he began to thrust into her, his hips bucking upward.

"Timing, timing is everything." She thought, closing her eyes in concentration.

The words solidified in her mind, and her lips began to move, every strange word a struggle that served to catapult her toward her own orgasm. The boy was slamming into her with all his energy, her own body was rigid, ready to feel him explode, ready to finish this, ready to prove to Jorda that she was the Chosen One.

She felt the boy grasp her hips as he buried himself deep within her, his cock expanding, blasting his cum deep into her pussy. The explosion triggered her own orgasm her body convulsing as she managed to utter the last words of the incantation. As the final word slid from her lips, she pressed her finger down with all her strength, drawing the nail through the boy's flesh, completing the symbol on his chest.

The boy screamed out in pain, his eyes wide, as his orgasm magnified, pulsing in torrents into Ricah's convulsing cunt. Ricah stared at him in horror, watching him slowly shrivel as molten blasts exploded within her, threatening to tear her apart. The pressure was unbearable, yet she dared not move, dared not do anything but accept her fate.

Ricah stared down in horror; watching the boy beneath her slowly shrivel as blast after molten blast erupted deep inside her, burning her insides until she collapsed, writhing in pain.

Chapter 30

Jouseen sat at the table, doing her best to pay attention to the speakers as Hindor sat beside her, his mere presence a distraction. She glanced over at him, blushing as she met his gaze, seeing in his eyes, the same heated desire that burned within her. Gone was the scraggly gray hair, the weathered skin marked with worry, and the slumped shoulders, struggling to carry too heavy of a burden. In its place, the smooth skinned youthful looks their people were known for, his flowing golden hair held back in a simple leather strap. His shoulders stood proud and strong as he lifted his cup and winked at her.

Like him, she knew her own features had returned to normal, yet strangely, she found herself missing her other self. She even thought, perhaps, Hindor missed it as well. The past years had been hard, hard beyond belief, but there's something about living such a life that makes every moment precious, every stolen touch a treasure you cherish.

Beyond Hindor, Grisha sat, smiling politely as members of the great house tried to engage her in conversation. Like both of them her appearance had shifted, though not as dramatically. The most noticeable was her eyes; a brightness had returned to her, a brightness that bespoke a hope for the future. Her swollen stomach drew many a curious stare, especially from the women. Jouseen worried about the child, even more than she worried about Grisha. The child was a great question, one the elders would have to address. Jouseen wasn't sure what their decision would be, or how Grisha would react to it.

And then there was the child's father. Deny it as much as she wanted, Jouseen could tell there was something there. Just the mention of the boy and Grisha would stop whatever she was doing to listen in. And when it turned out there was no news, she would sulk the rest of the day. Jouseen and Hindor had been sent to the keep to discover Jorda's plans, and to gather what information they could. That had been forty years ago, forty long years living in a hate and fear filled world, not discovering anything and then Ian and Ayra returned.

Things had moved quickly then, far quicker than even the elders had thought. And then, out of chance or fate, Grisha had become pregnant, pregnant with Ian's child. That had changed everything, forcing Jouseen to act before she was ready. Getting Grisha to safety had become the top priority, even more important than the fate of Ian and everything that meant.

There had been no real word of the boy other than he had left the keep. An announcement had been made that Ricah was with child, and carried the heir to the keep. Nothing certain had been heard of Ayra, just rumors that she had been locked away, or perhaps even killed. Jouseen had been surprised to see Grisha sulking for near on a day after that rumor surfaced.

Jouseen slipped her hand under the table and reached out to touch Hindor's leg. His hand dropped down to grip hers just as Lord Brailia rose to his feet, causing the guests to stop their conversations and turn to face him. Lord Bralia was, amongst her people, an oddity. His hair, the purest white, hung down well past his waist. His face was deeply wrinkled, and his eyes were deep set, barely visible under his long white eyebrows. His hands shook unsteadily, and he was barely able to stand upright. He was, in fact, more than an oddity, he was something none else had ever become, Lord Brailia was old!

"I thought elves didn't get old." Grisha had said, after first meeting the leader of their people.

The poor girl had been through a series of shocking revelations over the past week, not the least of which was who she was, and who the child in her womb was. She had handled it quite well, considering. Of course there was so much more to be revealed, so much more to be decided, so many questions left unanswered.

"My people." Lord Brailia began, his hand gripping the rail of his chair. "The elders have come to a decision."

Jouseen looked over at Grisha and nodded, watching anxiously as her daughter slowly stood up. As Lord Brailia turned his attention to the young woman, his demeanor seemed to soften. He released his grip on his chair and forced himself into an upright stance.

"Grisha, daughter of Jouseen, welcome home." He said, a faint smile coming to his lips.

Jouseen felt Hindor squeeze her hand, as she slowly let her breath out. Born outside of the realm, there had been no assurance that Grisha would be accepted into the people. In welcoming her home, Brailia had accepted her as a member of the people, as a member of the kingdom, and as his decendant.

"My Lord, and father of my father's father; it is good to be home." Grisha replied, her eyes going from Lord Brailia, to Hindor, and finally to her mother.

Jouseen had made Grisha practice the words over and over, even though she was not certain Brailia would accept her. It was important that once accepted, Grisha show that she understood what that meant, what being his descendant meant. It also meant that the child growing within her would most likely be accepted, though that was yet to be decided.

With Grisha's status decided, the tenor of the gathering changed immediately. Musicians appeared, their instruments quickly filling the hall with joyous sound. The talk quickly turned to welcoming greetings and hugs, as everyone sought to show their support for the child bearing the child.

Chapter 31

Ian rolled onto his side, peering through the dark at the blanket covered figure laying just a few yards away. Part of him wanted to quietly gather up his things and slip away into the darkness, and part of him wanted to creep across the short distance and slide beneath the blankets into her warm embrace.

"You're such an idiot." He scolded himself, adjusting the blanket over his sister as she let out a soft whimper.

All he would have had to do was tell her no, but seeing her standing there, tears running down her cheeks, he couldn't bring himself to do it. In truth he wanted nothing more than to go back to before they had every traveled to the keep, back to a time when it was just them, before the vileness that had destroyed their relationship. Of course, he also knew that the vileness was already there, already a seed in his mother's mind, way back then. She might try to deny it, but he didn't believe her, and he didn't trust her.

Lia whimpered again, her tiny hand reaching out to clutch at his shirt. He looked own at her, a smile coming to his lips as he pulled her closer. In his mind he swore an oath, an oath to protect her, an oath to see her grow, and be happy.

"As for you, mother." He whispered, pulling the blankets up, "I just don't know."

Ian's original plan had been to head north. The wilds could easily swallow him up and he would never be seen, but Ayra had suggested they go back to the abandoned keep, if for nothing else, to see what else could be salvaged. He had resisted the idea at first, not wanting anything to do with the memories that lived there, but he had to admit, they would need money, and there were still areas he hadn't explored.

Ian drifted off to sleep, wondering if letting his mother come along was going to prove to be something to regret.