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| >> Campfire Creative >> Other >> Fantasy >> ID #1796161 |   |
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| [Introduction]
The land of the Otherkin is a strange one, lost in time, full of those creatures that have been forgotten to our realms for centuries. It is said, in the myths, that all that is lost in our world appears in theirs. Atlantis is numbered among their many kingdoms, and elves are as numerous as humans. Evil Queens speak to mirrors and Princesses sleep until their true love's kiss. For centuries, their Kingdoms remained separate, independent entities, a confederacy owing little leniency to the land as a whole. In fact, there was not even a name for these numerous lands, except for the names they gave themselves. Until the Empire struck, bringing most of them under its starry banner. They earned a name then: the Winter Empire, and they are as forbidding as their name. The Ice Emperor has killed the lands and culture of each of his conquests, bringing them under his iron grip, toppling them one by one like dominoes. Those few Kingdoms that remain unconquered have not simply lain in wait for their turn to fall under the axe. In the city of Sybeline, they gather together and form an alliance known as the Summer Kingdoms, willing and ready to stand against any further conquest by the Ice Emperor and his Snow Golems. Any ally is welcome. ***** Joey Richards is a college student from South Florida, and she hates it. There is no soul there, no life despite what the images have told her. She loves the beaches, but they are too crowded, hates the clubs, and everything else is just too damned expensive. And the weather in the summer is beyond atrocious. She wants nothing more than to leave, but economics have forced her to stay home. Her only refuge is the local parks, through which she wanders aimlessly day after day, week after week, as long as she's not in class. One day, she stumbles over the root of a Banyan tree, and enters a world she never thought could exist: especially not with a door that exists in fricken South Florida. Suddenly, she is in the Otherrealms, right on the border between Winter and Summer. Unfortunately for her, the door swings both ways, and the Winter Empire sees another Kingdom for the conquering. And only Joey and the Summer Kingdoms stand in their way. ***** This is a two-person campfire. Sowwies, anyone who might have wanted to join. Yes, Joey is from SE Florida. No one ever has stories based in Florida. |
 Quaddy  It was hot.Screw that, it was boiling hot, and, worse, it was humid. The air outside felt almost like a sponge that had collected too much water and needed to be squeezed so it could be usable. And it had been like that for almost two weeks, since the last time it had rained for longer than it took for the a cloud to pass overhead. Hell, it even rained when it was sunny and damn near cloudless, a phenomenon that Joey was pretty damn sure was indicative of burning in the Underworld. Then again, the storms were so bad that the house shook and the power went out for two days because FPL couldn't be bothered to do the right thing and replace their damn generator. At least the sun meant she could go outside, even if she didn't want to. "We could go to Starbucks to study." Joey wasn't precisely friends with the girl standing next to her, but they shared a major and, thus, spent most of their time together these days. They'd planned on going out onto the lawn to study together since the library was packed at this time of the day, but the heat was so bad even Joey wasn't sure she wanted to brave the great outdoors. "But then we'd have to give up our parking spots." "Yeah," Joey sighed out, thinking of the war she'd had to fight to get a spot close to half a mile away from the Arts and Letters building. "Look Janna, why don't we just head to the Engineering building and use one of their study rooms? They're all too busy sitting in front of their computer screens to notice that we're stealing their space. And their building has the best A/C since they got that green builder in here." Janna grunted. "Fuckin' FAU. The Engineers get a brand new building and we're stuck with chalk boards and an ancient microfilm machine. It's almost as if the Literature department doesn't matter, or something." Dark-haired and eyed, Janna was half Egyptian and either lived in Coconut Creek or Canada, depending on the part of the year one was talking about. She was small and flighty, with a body that was almost boyish for it's lack of curvature. "And don't even mention the new football field. I swear to God..." Janna's rant was, thankfully, interrupted by a tinny ringing to the tune of "Hedwig's Theme" from Harry Potter. The woman stopped speaking, dug into her bag, and pulled out a banged up Blackberry from a mystery pocket within. Holding up a finger, she walked a few feet away from Joey and answered. "Marhaba! Izzayak?" Sighing, Joey rubbed her eyes with thumb and forefinger. Janna was smart and had a wonderful habit of actually paying attention and taking notes in even the most boring of classes; notes she was willing to share come study time. Times like that, Joey could barely keep her eyes open, and usually spent the class period reading a book or doodling in a journal. A few memorable times, she'd even managed to jot down a poem or two, though she couldn't have said if they were anything but shit. But, despite Janna's generosity, Joey couldn't help but wish that she wasn't beholden to the girl come finals week. Janna hung up and headed back to where Joey stood, waiting. "OK, love, I'm sorry, but I have to take a rain check. My mother is having a breakdown over my sister's wedding and I'm the only one who can calm her down. I'll send you an e-mail with all of my notes tonight and we can study tomorrow, kay?" Joey nodded, secretly relieved that she would have some time to herself. She'd never been one for hanging out with people, and college had been a period of time that had forced her out of that shell, albeit not willingly. In fact, it had been the first time in her life that anyone had noticed her. The summer after she'd graduated high school had been the pinnacle year for puberty in Joey's life, so late that she had begun to believe it might never have happened. At its nascence, she’d been flat chested and hipless, with frizzy brown hair and buckteeth. Three months and a visit to the orthodontist for Invisa-Line later, and something very different had turned up to Art Appreciation that fall. By the end of the first week, she’d been asked out or propositioned no fewer than eight times, if one didn’t count the repeat chances of a few offenders. At the beginning of summer, she’d been a gangly girl; at the end, she’d been rather annoyingly deemed “a fox”. Flat chest had blossomed into something rather more-than-average, and where she’d sat almost on bone in June, a rather sizeable ass cushioned her behind come September. Hair had straightened into effortless waves and lightened to a rich mahogany, and the Invisa-Line had brought her teeth in line (literally). All in all, Joey had gone from invisible (which she liked, damnit!) to center fucking stage in one fucking summer. And she bloody well hated it. Not to mention that none of the people hitting on her were girls, who she was coming to realize she just might like better. Oh, she liked hot men well enough—more than one self-love session had featured a shirtless Chris Evans or Hemsworth as Captain America or Thor dancing his fingers up and down her inner thighs, after all—but she’d recently begun to think that perhaps she was just as attracted to women as she was to men. Unfortunately for her, it seemed that the men on campus had designated her as one of their own and the women weren’t interested. Perhaps she would skip class today and go to the park. Since it was a Tuesday, it would be free to go to and walk around and Trade Winds wasn’t that far away, maybe fifteen twenty minutes. The lights were up for Christmas already, but the park was still open for the general populace until sundown and she could use a walk to clear her head. As far as she was concerned, dealing with the assholes on campus should earn one a few credits toward the Literature major. She had nearly run someone over to get the spot under the tree earlier that day, but as she climbed in and tossed her bag on the passenger seat, the fact that her spot was shady no doubt saved her from third degree burns. Ah, for the small things in life, like not burning the skin away from your thighs. It was too hot for pants, but shorts left one so damn vulnerable to car seat attacks. And even t-shirts, which she wore because spaghetti string tops made her look like a hooker, didn't cover much of the arm. Ah Florida. Thank God that Sample was only a few exits down on I-95, or else Joey might have actually killed someone. How it was that every single goddamn bad driver on the fucking planet found their way to South Florida, Joey had never managed to figure out, but as she pulled into the park, she was cursing up a storm. Living in South Florida had, over the years, managed to whittle away whatever human kindness had lived within her heart; or at least it had stolen away her patience for stupid people. She’d wanted to get out. Her dream had been to go somewhere with actual history and actual wide-open spaces to wander around in. Somewhere in Scotland, maybe, or even at least William and Mary in Virginia. But despite her scholarships, she would have ended up several thousand dollars in debt if she’d decided to attend her dream school, and Literature wasn’t exactly a major full of job opportunities. So she and her family had decided that, economically, it was just best to stay home and let her scholarships pay for everything. Except that she hated every minute of it. She was two months into her junior year and still carrying a 3.9 GPA despite skipping class at least twice a week to go to the park and withdraw from the world. The park welcomed her with a breeze and Joey felt centered for the first time since waking up that morning. She’s always felt like she belonged in the forests, away from people, just herself and her legends. Myths, lost worlds, stories and the human psyche had always interested her far more than living life amongst the people of the world. All of her crushes had been book characters or legends; her best friends were people long dead and gods all but forgotten. She knew myths and fairy tales better than most people knew the days of the week. Growing up, she’d always joked with her family that her favorite people had been dead for a thousand years. Being in the park allowed her to talk to all of them. “Hello guys,” she whispered, Cupid’s bow lips just barely moving. In response, the wind danced along the nape of her neck, up and beneath the low ponytail that hung down her back. Smiling, Joey set off down one of the paths, closing her icy eyes and picturing her favorite worlds. To her left, along the lake, was Atlantis, and in the trees were the Elfin kingdoms, led by their Council of Queens. Above, dragons played and, in the distance, she swore she could hear the voice of a woman singing, calling to her true love to rescue her from her tower. And above them all, the sky gods thundered, while the Mother walked amongst her children on Earth. It was home, in a way that nothing else had ever been for her. A land in which the literature of her world, whether written or spoken or even just thought, actually lived and breathed. As she walked, the sound of a horn sang through the trees, scaring all of the birds from their branch homes. Joey felt it resonate in her chest and, unthinkingly, she sped up toward where she could find it. She broke into a run as the horn sounded again, the sound of it snaking its way around her limbs and pulling her from the path and into the untamed brush. Joey ran heedlessly, not realizing where she stepped but unconsciously missing any real obstacles. Finally, she reached a Banyan tree. In its middle, amongst all of the individual tree branches that had grown and attached to the forest floor, was a hole almost shaped like a door. Perhaps it was just her, or maybe it was the heat, but Joey could swear that the space waved and glittered. The horn sounded a third time and Joey found herself pitching forward, climbing over the roots and through the space. As she stepped through, her foot caught and she pitched forward, landing face first in the grass on the other side. Wait. Grass? But there should be roots, not grass. And why did it feel so much cooler on this side of the tree? Head swimming, Joey pressed into the ground and lifted herself up. As she did so, a voice broke through the whispering of the winds, surprising Joey enough that she fell to the ground once more. “Well, you’re not exactly what I thought was going to happen. I was hoping for someone a little, you know, more exciting.” Quaddy A hand reached down, scooped under her arm, and lifted Joey from the grass. “Are you hurt, m’lady?” Like the sound of the horn, this voice wrapped around every limb and sinew of Joey’s body. It made her blood boil beneath her skin, the way it did when the men behind her eyes reached out to touch her. A fire coursed through her, and an icy thrill at the sound of it.“No, I’m fine,” Joey replied, straightening herself and brushing the grass and dirt from her legs. Some leaves still stuck to her hair, but she pulled it out of its constraining ties and shook them free before locking it back up again. Finally, she stood and saw her rescuer, and a sharp cry escaped her throat. “What the fuck?” A veritable menagerie of walking, talking monsters lumbered before her. They appeared to be made of ice and snow, shaped as if some autistic child had molded them with clay, carrying weapons of ragged bone, eyes like blue fire in their skulls. Mixed among them were man-headed beasts of every variety, not just the centaurs that Joey had read about in books, and they were even more frightening than the ice-beasts. Several of them even appeared to fly. At their head was the man who had spoken to her. And he was as perfect as his beasts were fearsome. Every feature was perfect, though Joey couldn’t have told you why, or even what those features were. With every blink, they seemed slightly different and ever more perfect. It was dizzying. “I don’t think I’m in Kansas anymore, universe…” “Kansas? Is that were the skinny flesh thing is from?” One of the half-beasts, a wolf from the look of it, snarled, slobber dripping to the grass beneath him. “No,” Joey replied. “It’s a line from a movie, modified to more accurately fit my situation.” She’d never been one to keep her mouth shut, even when it most likely would have behooved her to do so. This was probably one of those moments. The beast growled, a shiver running along the length of its lupine body. He was larger than the average wolf, which likely made him a direwolf, Joey’s fantasy-seeped mind suggested, and solid black. Everything, even his skin and eyes, was pitch dark, and frightening. “Ozgris, stay yourself,” the handsome man replied. “She has traveled a long way and is no doubt exhausted. Forgive any impertinence, for I doubt it was meant.” Taking hold of the scarlet silk cape swirling about his shoulders, the man bowed deep at the waist, looking for all the world like an Elizabethan courtier. His chainmail glimmered in the sun, the same gray of his eyes, and a shock of dark hair slipped free from its caul. “Welcome to the Winter Empire, m’lady. I am Rhys Mirrikh, First of the Thirteen Sleep Lords, Commander of this troop.” Joey, dizzy with a need she didn’t understand, curtsied as well as she was able. Her muscles twitched, and she wobbled, but it worked out well enough. “I am Jordan Richards, called Joey, of Sunrise, Florida, United States. Pleased to meet you.” “Well met, Joey,” Rhys replied, smiling broadly, his teeth twinkling in the sun. “Now, I believe it is rude to keep visitors waiting out in the sun on such a warm day…” Joey laughed, unable to help herself. “Warm? Please. Where I come from, this is practically cold! But, then again, you called this place the Winter Empire?” Joey shrugged. “Perhaps this is considered warm for a man leading ice golems around.” Rhys’ smile faltered for this first time. “You come from a summery land, indeed, lady. How is it one from such warm climes has knowledge of the soldiers of the Emperor?” For the first time since she’d slipped through that…root door, Joey felt the stirrings of fear. And, in feeling that fear, Joey became aware of its prior absence, which awoke in her the stirrings of suspicion. “I read a lot of books,” she replied, voice guarded, as she took a step back toward the tree behind her. She was in a strange world, full of strange creatures, and even her curiosity wasn’t enough to keep her there. It was one thing to read and pretend fantasy worlds; it was another thing to slip into one. Then Rhys smiled. What had she been thinking? Oh, yes, that she would love to feel his hands on her. “You are a scholar, lady?” Rhys lit up, reaching forward to take Joey’s hand with her own. The touch of his skin awoke a forge within her, heat pumping and fire gushing between her legs. “That is most pleasant. The Emperor will be much pleased. Come, we will take you to him and we will discuss your world.” “Of course,” Joey replied, breath short and ragged. She smiled up and into Rhys’ blue eyes. Funny, but she’d sworn they were gray, but the blue was intoxicating; just the shade that made her knees melt. Gods, but it was past time to get this man into bed, to feel his weight atop of her, to finally have a man take her as a woman was meant to be taken. Rhys reached up and rubbed a finger down her cheekbone and Joey melted. “Ahhh,” she breathed out, absently running a hand along her breasts and leaning into the man next to her. Heat rushed to her face and the second heart between her legs throbbed insistently, pounding almost as hard as the one in her chest. “Please,” she whispered. “Please, I need you.” “I know,” Rhys replied, eyes flashing almost gold as he reached down and pressed his lips to hers, his fingers dancing along her spine. Joey melted into him, shaking and trembling, a curious ice building between her legs begging for release. Rhys pressed harder, fingers dancing lower, tongue darting into her mouth and licking the inside of her cheek. Joey couldn’t think, she could only need, wanting nothing to much as this man and his fingers playing her like a cheap fiddle. And he was a consummate player. Finally, he pulled back. “Please,” was all Joey could say, lost to the tide of fire and ice playing within her, not seeing and hearing anything but the rushing of her own blood and the rasp of her breath. “Give it to me.” “As you wish,” Rhys replied, reaching up and running his thumb against the side of her breast. “Now,” he said. Joey exploded, screaming to the gods above and the roots below, body bucking as the dam broke and wildfire burned her from within. Joey collapsed beneath the weight of it, falling straight into Rhys’ arms. “Well done, Incubus,” Ozgris snarled. “Your way with the ladies puts all we mere warriors to shame.” “Shut your snout, Oz, or I’ll sew it shut for you,” Rhys replied, letting Joey drop to the ground, senseless with pleasure, the last vestiges of his touch pulsing within her. “She is a pretty creature, no doubt. I find myself almost hoping the Emperor needs me to question her. Haven’t seen teats like that in many a month. And the succubi are hardly a replacement for real flesh.” “The Emperor gets her first, demon. If she doesn’t talk…then you can sink your…talon into her.” ***** Joey awoke and, for a moment, couldn’t remember anything. The bed was comfortable, but it wasn’t her own, and neither was the room around her. In the moments before she remembered crossing through that root door in the park, panic built as her mind raced and legs kicked free of the comforter. Then the sound of a trumpet wove its way through her memory and Joey recalled the root door…and Rhys. “Oh God, what did I do, what did I do?” Joey held her arms in front of her, trying to remember what had happened after he’d made her, made her…with just a word! Did anything happen after that? Oh God! “Nothing.” Joey screamed just slightly, but jumped from the bed and spun in what was easily the first graceful thing she’d done since puberty had shown up that summer. Her boobs threw off her proportions, so she’d become awkward in her own body lately. Not that the men seemed to mind. “You met with the Incubus Lord, is all.” “Who’s there?” Joey stared around the room, spinning until she grew dizzy, but she saw nothing. “Hello?” “Look down, lady.” As Joey did so, a fox slipped around her bed and stared up at her. “I am a servant here, sent to tidy you up. As I was saying, you met with the Incubus Lord.” “Forgive me for sounding stupid, but…you’re a…” “Talking fox, yes,” the fox replied, more patiently than Joey would have suspected. He, for the fox definitely sounded like a boy, jumped onto the bed and sat, staring up at her. “Actually, I am a werekit. My lands fell under the aegis of the Winter Empire many moons ago. I was but a young kit, myself, but it kept me alive when so many others fell.” Joey cocked her head to one side. “You’re a slave here?” “In a matter of speaking, yes. If I could access my human form, I could walk out of here, but the wizards of Winter have locked me into fox form. I have no access to weapons like this, and no way to fight my way out.” “Why not just run, then? Foxes are small and fast. I’m sure you could hide from them.” Joey sat down next to the kit. “But really…they don’t seem that bad. I mean, they’re definitely treating me wish respect. Aside from…” “Lord Rhys essentially raping your mind? Yes, the ladies do tend to overlook that small detail. Lady…” “I’m called Joey. Just Joey. No lady, or anything. We don’t have titles where I come from.” Joey sighed. “These are horrible people, aren’t they?” The fox nodded. “I am called Reynard. And I have been their slave for so long, I don’t even know if I can get back to human form, even if I were to break the spell. These are horrible, horrible people, Joey. And they want something from you. Lord Rhys brought you here to Castle Snow for questioning. They want to know if your world is a potential ally or merely a new conquest.” “Conquest?” Joey’s stomach dropped. She hated South Florida, but not enough to have it taken over by a bunch of fantasy monsters that made Narnia look like…an allegorical children’s series about Jesus. “But they can’t conquer America! That’s my home!” “So was Kit Hollow, m’lady.” Reynard’s head drooped. “It was a beautiful forest before the troops of winter came and took it. Now it’s a frozen wasteland, fit only for golems and the wild creatures of Winter. The Emperor doesn’t care, Joey. And now that they have you, there is nothing that’s going to stop them from knowing that information.” Joey stood, indignant, her hair swishing rather like a tail, reflecting distress. “I won’t tell them anything! They can’t have my home!” “You won’t have a choice, lady. No one ever does. Think about what the Incubus Lord did with just a few words and a kiss. He does that with all new female arrivals. He does worse when questioning doesn’t go well. And then the wizards will reach into you and steal your thoughts. They did it to all of us here, Joey. And then you’ll be turned into a slave.” “No! I’m going to escape. And you’ll come with me, Reynard!” Joey shook her head. “I won’t stay here. I’m going home.” Reynard laughed, a sound much too human to come from a fox’s jaws. “Your sentiments are lovely, dear one. But they are unlikely to occur. You are trapped here. They haven’t spelled you yet, but no doubt they will when they question you. My spell is tied to the fact that I can’t become human. Any animal caught trying to escape the castle will awaken the Stone Golems that circle the bailey. Yours…one can only imagine. I heard that Lord Rhys might claim you for himself.” Joey’s body betrayed her. Even as her head quailed in fear and disgust, heat washed through her and her heart pounded just a bit harder. “Claim me?” “He does that sometimes,” the fox replied, nodding. “If he finds a woman particularly appealing. You are quite beautiful, and decidedly warm compared to most of the females around here. This is, as you might imagine, an icy place. Well, lady, I believe we must get going. I am to lead you to the baths and then the clothier. It is time for you to be questioned.” Joey’s knees shook. “Do I have to?” “It is better for you to go of your own will. Otherwise the Wizards will force you to come and it will go harder on you, lady.” The fox sounded almost sad. “Come.” Joey nodded. “I will. But I’m getting out of here. And because you were kind enough to talk to me, I’m going to get you out of here, too. I promise it.” “Others have promised the same. Every one of them serves here now. But I appreciate the sentiment, nonetheless, m’lady.” “No.” Joey set her jaw and stood firm. “No, Reynard. I will get out of here. This is a place made of ice. Well I am from a land where the sun always shines and ice melts instantly. They want to conquer Florida? Then they better get ready for the heat.” “With all due respect, lady,” Reynard replied, sounding suspiciously like he was trying not to laugh. “Winter conquered the Dragonlands. Unless you have something more powerful than flying fire breathing monsters, I doubt you’ll win.” Joey sighed. “Well, there goes Disney World. Damnit. I really liked that mouse.” Mynt Someone opened a door. Against all rules and reason, someone opened a door. Matthias had felt it the moment it started to rattle apart its bindings. He supposed there wasn’t any creature with magical inclination on the whole continent that hadn’t felt the swell of power. Doors required a lot of magic to be forced open, more than said creatures would have felt in a long time. That kind of power was supposed to be lost. The old laws had restricted that kind of magic alongside banning the use of the doors. A pact had been established eons ago by some archaic council and the doors had been sealed and hidden. Anyone found seeking or trying to pry one open was put to death, no exceptions. The power it took to even find a door these days took more than a common witch or elf had. But Matthias had a pretty good idea who held that kind of magic still. After all, it did run in his blood, too. He supposed no one worried about being put to death by a council that no longer existed, thanks to the Ice Emperor. Now they only feared going extinct themselves. Matthias tried to pretend that he wasn’t interested in what might come through the door, that it was only hunger making his stomach tremble, but he had never been a very good liar. He had been a warrior and deep down in his core, he still was. The thought of battle with an unknown opponent excited him, even if he no longer had a sword to swing. The heavy shuffling of feet echoed down the dark hallway, accompanied by a soft flickering glow. A torch. He strained his ears to try and hear if the footsteps were coming closer or stopping off somewhere else. He could almost smell the oil burning on the torch and he hoped they were finally coming for him. He thought it had been a few days since they had last chained him up and he was starting to get a little bored of sitting in the darkness. Somewhere down the hall another prisoner wailed in their cell but the footsteps didn’t stop. The resounding clunk of the lock in his door told him what he wanted to know. He pretended it wasn’t apprehension that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. “Get up.” Matthias slid his tail through the dirt that made up his cell floor, the heart shaped spade on the end of it half buried. But he didn’t get up. “You lose your hearing?” The lumbering shadow grunted. “I said get up.” He lifted his eyes, peering through a veil of unkempt dark hair, his gaze traveled up from the dirt floor to the thick booted feet before him. He considered staying right where he was but it bothered him more than he cared to say to have one of those beasts standing over him. Matthias grasped the chain that kept his hands shackled above his head and used them to hoist himself to his feet. He used the wall for support, his body weak after sitting in the dungeon without so much as a stale bite of bread for nourishment. “His lordship wants to see you, cambion.” “Then tell his delicate ass to come down here.” A smirk tugged his lips upward. “Or is he afraid he’ll dirty all his pretty dresses?” A snarl and a well-placed punch had Matthias doubling over. The guard grabbed him by the back of his neck, claws digging into his tender flesh, and held him upright. Matthias could feel the beast’s warm breath on his face, the unpleasant stench of rotten meat brushing his skin. He tried not to gag. “You will show respect, half-breed,” the guard growled in his face. Matthias didn’t say a word as he was shoved against the wall. He waited patiently for the beast to fumble with the keys, his massive hands not meant for much besides fighting. It was almost comical watching a wolf-beast work with such small tools. He wanted to say so but he managed to behave himself. Once the guard found the right key, he pinned Matthias against the wall by his throat and unlocked the shackles. “His lordship warned you were a fast one.” He flashed a mouthful of yellowed teeth and his breath was like a rotted corpse. “But you won’t be going anywhere until you meet with his lordship.” “Did he tell you,” his voice cracked, scraping its way out of his raw and dry throat. He could taste blood in the back of his mouth. “I’ve gotten out of worse?” If the stupid mutt were looking at his face and not his hands Matthias could have swiped the blade on his hip. But he didn’t risk it and focused on trying to draw in a breath around the bruising pressure on his throat. The arm on his neck probably lingered longer than was necessary, making dark spots dance in front of his eyes, while the beast fastened a new set of shackles around his wrists. These were attached to a chain clamped in the bastard’s giant, furred fist. The guard, a thick monstrosity who probably thought better with little brain in his pants, smirked and dropped Matthias to the ground. “His lordship don’t like to be kept waiting.” No, he would never dream of making Lord Ladyhands wait. Matthias had a sudden and violent urge to dig his heels in and make the trek a real effort for his courier but he couldn’t keep traction in the dirt. He was yanked forward out of his cell and he barely managed to keep his feet under him. Several times he tripped up the stairs but it didn’t slow down his friendly keeper who jerked him forward with every step. Matthias wasn’t a small guy by any means but compared to the wolfbeast he might as well have been a child’s toy. The light that greeted him at the top of the stairs caused him a moment of blindness and he wondered just how long he had been left sitting in the dungeons. He allowed himself to be dragged down the hallway and past doors he would probably never see the inside of. It was a battle he wasn’t going to win and he might have better uses for what energy he had left. A werekit trotted in the opposite direction followed closely by a girl that looked severely out of place from her strange clothing to the defiant gleam in her eyes. He snorted and watched her full lips turn into a frown. It didn’t matter where they had found her or how strong she thought herself, she would end up like the others. Broken, destitute, and bound to serve until she was no longer useful and then she would be put to death. Matthias already had a good idea some of the uses they might have for someone like her. The werekit bowed its head as they passed; it had learned its place for survival just like the rest of them. The girl, on the other hand, raised her head and stuck out her chest proudly. Matthias smirked and gave her a wink before he was dragged away. The room he was led to was one he had visited several times since they had captured him, the personal chambers of one Commander Rhys Mirrikh. Normally the room was rather dark, the inexplicably lavish furniture out of place in the den. But this time it was bright and that was more frightening to Matthias than he could rightly explain. He sat on the edge of the pristinely made up bed. The wolfbeast promptly yanked him off and he hit the ground hard. “Matthias,” said a voice that was too pleasant to be real. “So good of you to come.” He lifted his head to see the devil himself standing over him wearing a smile on his impeccable face. When he didn’t say anything the wolfbeast grabbed a handful of his hair and jerked his head back. Matthias tried to moisten his lips with his tongue. “Well your invitation was so… grand, brother, how could I say no?” Rhys’s kept his gaze for Matthias, his eyes a cross of blue and green. “Leave us.” The wolfbeast bowed his head and left the room. Matthias climbed awkwardly to his feet, hands still cuffed together, and sat again on his brother’s bed. He hoped he left dirt and filth where he touched. Rhys watched with the same smile. Everything about him was off, too perfect and exact to be human. His smile was off, just enough to be noticeable, although Matthias doubted any of the humans that faced Rhys did notice. His brother ran his fingers lightly along the length of one of Matthias’s curled horns, sending shivers down his spine. It unnerved him but he didn’t give Rhys the satisfaction of jerking away. “You’re looking well. The dungeons have been kind to you.” “How long has it been since the last time you dragged me up here?” “Evidently not long enough.” Matthias grinned and felt his lip split. “Why don’t you just get rid of me? Can’t be sentimentality.” The look of disgust that passed over Rhys’ perfect, handsome face was enough to make his smile wider. “Your existence is a dark mark on our family’s prestige.” “No one told your father to impregnate my mother.” Rhys slapped him. Hard. He rubbed his stinging jaw with his cuffed hands, calloused fingers rasping over the stubble there. He watched the mask slip back over his brother’s face, thinly veiling his anger as he straightened his clothes, smoothing out the invisible wrinkles. Gentlemen like his brother weren’t supposed to lose their composure. Matthias didn’t remember Rhys being that strong or maybe weeks rotting in the dungeon had made him weaker. “However, you are part of a proud lineage and you do have your uses.” Rhys looked him over before his face softened and he smiled once more. “You look hungry.” Matthias considered telling his brother that if he kept up his smile he might crack his mask but he bit his tongue. He was pretty hungry but he knew that was part of their tactics. Every once in a while they would bring him out of the dungeon and present him with a mouthwatering dish and ask him again to serve their cause. And each time it was just a little harder to say no. The fact that Rhys was being kind meant something more sinister than he wanted to think about. He didn’t give Rhys an answer, just rubbed at the stubble lining his jaw. “I do not know why you continue to behave like an obstinate child.” The smile faded but it didn’t put Matthias at ease. “You used to be a great warrior.” “And you used to have lady hands.” “Now look what you’ve become.” Matthias snorted. “Why don’t you show your real face if you’re going to insult me?” He liked the frown Rhys wore much better than his insincere smile but he didn’t appreciate the knee that buried itself in his gut forcing all the air from his lungs. “I would suggest you scrape up what manners and dignity you have. The Emperor is to arrive soon.” “What’s that got to do with me?” He choked out between gasps. “I thought perhaps I would give you one last chance to join our ranks.” Rhys tilted his head. “Our numbers grow everyday as does our strength. Even should you make it to those Summer scum you would only die with them.” A smirk lit up his face. “Although I might enjoy having you serve at my feet like the common half-breed you are.” He sucked in a breath. “I liked it better when you would feed me before launching into a tirade.” “Should I take your insolence as a no?” “Why is your precious Emperor coming here?” Rhys only smirked, turning his attention to the full-length mirror hanging on the wall. “You did open the door, didn’t you?” Matthias shook his head. “I knew you were a sick son of a bitch, but I didn’t think you were stupid too.” Rhys laughed. “It seems you aren’t without complete comprehension. But no, I am not the one who opened the door. I merely… knocked. It was the girl who opened it.” The girl. “That’s why you’re in that form.” “You like it? Plucked right from her mind.” He admired himself in the mirror, plucking at impurities in the cloth. “Certainly a strange one, but she is warm and supple.” “Getting ahead of yourself, aren’t you? You can’t feed off her energy until your precious Master is finished with her,” he smirked. Rhys didn’t reply, just smiled at Matthias through the mirror. “And what is your answer, Matthias? Will you join us or not?” Matthias licked the small swell of blood off his cracked lips and tried to think of a reason to say no. Quaddy "You are to wash, miss." Reynard bowed his head, uncanny green fox eyes indicating a bronze hip bath the kind Joey had only seen in period dramas. It was full of steaming water, but Joey got the feeling that it wasn't from heat. Worse, guards stood around the whole room, facing both inward and out into the hallways surrounding them. A few of them appeared to be human, and those that were leered."Um...can they turn around?" Joey whispered to the werekit, bringing her arms up and crossing them across her chest. "And is it so much to ask for the water to not be half frozen? I'm going to die from hypothermia if I sit in a bath like that." Reynard shook his head, shoulders hunched apologetically. "That's the point, miss. The guards...they like to watch. No one is going to dunk themselves into ice cold water. I'm sorry...I wish I could help. But it's part...part of the breaking process. They did it to me, too, when I came here. Before they stole my human skin from me." Joey glared at the guards, blue eyes flashing white for just a moment. "Well then, I shan't bathe at all. It's gross and sticky and dirty, but I won't be someone's peep show." Spitting on the floor, Joey turned her back on the guards and stalked toward the door. "Fuck all this. I am not stripping for the hired help!" "Miss, no!" The last thing Joey heard was Reynard's voice, followed by a crackling in the air. Then pain enveloped her entire body, beginning in her heart and slowly, one agonizing inch at a time, spreading its way to the very edges of her body. It felt as if fire and ice and electricity flowed through her veins all at once, winding around one another, freezing and burning and shocking her from the inside out. She felt her blood being consumed, and her bone, and her muscles, and finally her soul. She heard screaming, but her throat did not work. Everything was reduced to the agony of her own destruction. All at once it stopped and Joey collapsed into an ungainly heap. "Wh-what the fuck was that?" she choked out, not at all surprised to see flecks of blood in the spit that flew from her lips. Reynard came up behind her, pushing his nose under her torso and helping Joey to pull herself into a seated position. "One of the guards in the bathing room is always a High Mage, miss. That was his particular gift manifesting himself. You are alright, Joey?" Laughing quietly to herself, Joey nodded and used the back of her hand to wipe away the blood dribbling from her nose. "Well, I feel like I've been hit by a semi, but I seem to be alive, so it couldn't have been all that bad, right? He must have been going pretty easy on me if I'm going to be able to walk away from this." Eying the guards, Joey found the one whose smirk betrayed him as the High Mage, and glared at him again. "On the other hand, I can't say that was the most enjoyable experience of my life, so I don't particularly want to go through that again." Reynard's head tipped silently to one side, eyes dark with questions. "You are sure you're alright? Most people experience continued pain once a High Mage has tapped into them. There is no residual effect?" Joey shook her head. "Nope. Nothing. Just a bloody nose." "If you'll forgive me miss, unless you want him to do that again, you'd best get to bathing." Indeed, as Joey looked over at the Mage, she could see his fingers twitching as if he was reaching for some sort of invisible weapon. His face was blunt, with the kind of features that no one would believe capable of devious thoughts or cruel actions. Joey would never have thought someone like that would be capable of inflicting so much pain on another person. It was a lesson she was going to have to learn if she was going to be stuck here for a while. People do fucked up things, no matter what they look like. Commander Rhys came to mind. Blushing furiously, Joey shook her head to clear herself of those thoughts--even now her body thrummed in anticipation, eagerly waiting his touch--and pushed herself off the ground. "Of course, Reynard," she groaned out. "I guess the boys deserve their little peep show." Grimacing, she turned to the werekit. "They won't...try to touch me, will they?" "No. Not as long as the rumor circulates that the Incubus Lord wants your for himself, no one will touch you. But not even Lord Rhys can save you from the repercussions of your own decisions, Joey." Reynard sat. "Please, for my sake and yours, don't do anything to provoke them into attacking your further. It is, I'll admit, curious that the High Mage's spell didn't affect you as much as the others, but it isn't something I particularly want to test." Joey grinned ruefully. "Aw, you're so sweet to care about me so much." The words dripped from her lips like sugared honey, but they were spiked and barbed for all that. "Let me guess...they'd punish you if I were to become...unruly, and require putting down?" Reynard bowed his head. "What you felt earlier...that is nothing compared to what they'd do to the both of us if you should prove...uncooperative. Do forgive me for valuing my own life as well as yours, Joey." Looking over that the guards, Joey sighed. "I can't fault you for that, Reynard. It's just...it's just that, this morning, I woke up and got ready for school. And now I'm in a land that makes Narnia look like Disney World, about to be eye raped by a bunch of guards as I bathe myself in ice-cold water in preparation for a torture session. It's...it's all I can do to keep from going mad, Reynard. This isn't the sort of shit that happens where I'm from! People don't become foxes! There's no such thing as Incubi or wolf centaur beasts...and certainly no Winter Empire! I...I'm not sure what's going on, Reynard. Is this a dream? When will I wake up?" "You don't," Reynard replied. "You are here. Someone, against all good judgement, opened the door into your world and you came stumbling through. And unless you possess the ability to fight your way out of here and to Summer, nothing is going to stop the Emperor from taking your land, too." Joey sighed. "Such bleakness..." "Hey! Human! Stop your chit chat and get on with it!" A rough hand, big and powerful, smacked against the side of her face, sending Joey reeling through the air and into a wall several feet away. She felt something crack in her shoulder and pain lanced down the entire right side of her body. Crying out, Joey landed in a crumpled heap on the floor. Grasping her shoulder, Joey attempted to move her right arm only to find that she had absolutely no control over it. Reynard was beside her in moments. "You fool, Gorinth! You've dislocated her shoulder. What will Lord Rhys have to say about this when he gets a hold of her? This was stupid of you to do. Fix it, immediately!" The guard who'd smacked her--Gorinth, apparently--grumbled, but stepped forward and, with a single move, shoved Joey's shoulder back into place. The pain was excruciating, and unlike anything Joey had ever felt. And more, her arm still felt weak, as if she wouldn't be able to use it for some time. Groaning, she pushed herself off the wall with her good arm and used her own weight to leverage herself into a standing position. "Next time," Gorinth growled, sounding for all the world like an angry tiger, "you should not test my patience. Don't think the Incubus Lord can protect you forever, human." Joey nodded, eyes wide and filled with tears from the pain more than fear (she thought), and shot a glance over at Reynard before licking her lips. "I'd remind you that damaging my arm will make it much more difficult for me to disrobe and bathe, but then I assume that you'd just do it for me, so I'll make do. Enjoy your little show, gentlemen. I'll return the favor someday." ***** "If I may, miss, it was unwise to provoke the guards like that." Reynard trotted next to her, fur rippling in agitation. "They will remember the insult." Joey shrugged, then winced as pain lanced through her body. "Don't care. I've quite decided that I just don't give a flying fuck what they think of me. If I'm to belong to Lord Rhys, I might as well play it up. It's the only protection I seem to have right now, and as it's the only thing I can fucking well use, then I'll fucking well use it." Reynard stared up at her for several minutes, though he never seemed to lose his place in the halls. "If I may, miss...you are a very peculiar young lady. There is much of Ice in you, I think. So much that is cold and precise and stark. But yet...there is sympathy, empathy and warmth there, too. And these are the tools of Summer. You are both." Joey shrugged. "Humans tend to be both. Most people tend to be both. Too much empathy and you give everything away, too much calculation and there's no one there to enjoy it with. I'm just trying to stay alive in this place. If it's not a dream and it's not Kansas--and it certainly isn't Kansas, Toto--then I've got to assume that this is 100% bona fide real. And that means staying alive. So first, I stay alive. Then, I find allies. No offense, Reynard, but you're...kinda small." "Size matters not, Joey," Reynard replied, sounding for all the world like he was trying not to laugh, "but I understand what you mean. You need a friend who is part of this and yet not. I cannot say that I believe you will succeed, but I do hope you manage to. You are...all right, yes? After the bath?" Joey shrugged again, this time in discomfort. "Not really. I've...I...well, I'd say I've never felt so violated, but after mind rape, eye rape just doesn't really seem to live up, does it? If they need to see a woman naked to get their jollies, I suppose I feel sorry for them. But...no, I'm not all right. It...I've never been someone who was so open as to enjoy the lingering glances of a man...or of a woman. I thought perhaps I would try women, see if they were easier to deal with, but...I didn't really appreciate the leering of the women in there, either." "You must get used to it, Joey. Yours is not a typical beauty here in Ice. We are used to snow queens and unseelie fae...not the...well, not you." Reynard sighed. "And if Lord Rhys takes you, you will have to get used to it." Grinning, tossing her fate to the wind, Joey laughed. "Yes, but, if I end up as some sort of sex slave to an Incubus, won't I have learned to like it? Forced to like it due to his immense manly powers? He'll rape me, but I'll ask for more." The laugh trailed off, becoming more of a strangled cry as the last of Joey's bravado gave out on her. "I...I must get away from here before that happens. There is...there is something wrong here, Reynard. There's no hope. No human warmth at all. People do what they must, and they've turned cruel for it. I do not like it here, my friend." "None of us do." Just then, several of the wolf-beasts came around the next bend in the corridor, apparently acting as guards. In the middle of their carrion-breathed crew hobbled a man who, though barely able to keep his feet beneath him, radiated resentment as if it were all he had left in the world. And judging by the state of his dress and the dirt encrusting every inch of exposed skin, it probably was all he had. He looked up at her, eyes veiled and wild, and she gazed back at him, telling herself over and over again that she would not end up like him. She frowned when he snorted, a sound so full of derision and dismissal. You keep telling yourself that, lass. It'll only mean you fall farther when you finally give in. No doubt he was right, but that didn't mean that she had to show it. Next to her, Reynard dipped in a salute, but she stood up straight and puffed out her chest, determined to prove to this man that she, unlike her companion, would never bow to these creatures. Not until they had broken every bone in her body to do so. As if in answer to her ridiculous thoughts, the prisoner smirked and winked. Somewhere, deep down, her body stirred and Joey fought to keep from gasping. An Incubus! But then...why was he in chains? Had he done something to undermine the power of the Winter Empire? Obviously, he'd done something worth chaining up for. Joey watched as he shuffled down the corridor, not so much walking as being dragged to wherever it was he was being taken. If he was truly a prisoner here, he must have done something to offend the Incubus Lord and, quite possibly, the Emperor himself. But, Joey thought, biting her lip, he would also know all the information she needed to know. She was so lost here and Reynard seemed to know only what the servants here had managed to glean over the years. If she was going to be able to escape, she would have to know everything. And perhaps this man, this prisoner, would be able to help. So far, he was the only hope she had. And Joey was never good at giving up hope. © Copyright 2011 Quaddy, Mynt, (known as GROUP). All rights reserved. GROUP has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |
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