A Daughter's Love

Chapter Twenty-Four.

“I don’t think Malia understands the concept of love” Malik felt the need to say after a long pause. He sounded almost sure, as if his assumption was the truth. Both he and Ryker were located in one of the many hallways but they had yet to speak since all Ryker could do was stare aimlessly at the city of Rome “No-.” the redhead began, turning his head to for the first time meet the sapphire eye of his childhood friend past the thick layer of his glasses “She doesn’t” he agreed, having long since been aware of the fact. Malia never much liked the idea of love but a part of Ryker had hoped that she would come around to it eventually, once she knew how he felt yet all that did was push her further away from him. She had never felt the need to cover her naked body from his eyes but the way she had pressed the sheets to her chest made him realize that something had changed inside of her. Vulcan somehow managed to bring out a timid side to the warrior, had made her feel flustered and shy like teenage girls often felt in the presence of the boy they liked “But she might-.” Ryker continued, mumbling the words more to himself, gazing down at his clasped hands, knuckles still aching as a reminder of his prior injuries “With his help” the word ‘his’ came out as a spat of venom, tasting vile though Ryker knew that it was the truth. The god would get her to love, he would get her to fall even if it was for him but at least she would be capable of it and that in itself gave the redheaded young man a reason to smile hauntingly. Malik longed to touch his friend, to cup his face in his hands and will that lurking sadness away with a kiss though he knew better. Ryker’s love for Malia could only ever be rivalled by his love for Ryker and to imagine catching him in her arms to Malik was the most painful thing he could ever imagine seeing. It made his chest ache, filled with an unexplainable weight but there was a numbing sense of peace that accompanied the agony almost as if he felt joy for Ryker getting what he had wanted for far too long. It just a thought that would never be more than that, not when Malia couldn’t bring herself to fall in love with Ryker but it hurt none the less which is why Malik remained silent. He could only imagine what his love was enduring at that very moment and surely nothing he could say could mend it “Sometimes-.” Ryker began, the light of day illuminating his features, the curves and edges that Malik so worshipped were highlighted for all the world to gaze upon. The smith’s eyes glowed vibrantly, his hair appearing as though it was on fire. He was beautiful, so much so that Malik couldn’t tear his eye away from the man “We fall in love with the wrong people” the smith continued, his words unfiltered as he spoke what he felt, what he had realized. Malik could only watch as the weak young man became a hardened warrior before his very eyes “Sometimes we do too much and go too far for the wrong people” Malia’s steps came to an abrupt halt when she heard the familiar voice speaking in the hallway she was about to turn into. She stayed close to the wall, listening, her hand caressing the warm concrete that seemed to pulsate with Vulcan’s fire “But just because they don’t love you the way you want them to-.” Malik’s heart began to crack in his chest, the spidery patterns creeping across the muscle since he felt that Ryker’s words were directed at him and not just Malia “It doesn’t mean that they don’t love you at all” his eyes met with Malik’s singular sapphire orb that was as frozen over as the tundra and did little to give away his emotions. Malik had always been so cold, so distant and emotionally cut off from the rest of the world. Perhaps it was the way his jaw and cheekbones were cut so sharply or the fact that his pale flesh and glowing eyes made him look as though he was undead, but whatever it was, it remained even as Malik’s heart was shattering in the cage that was his chest “Malia would kill for me, she would die for me, for us-.” the woman in question, pressed her back to the wall, her head hung as she listened, hands balled against the wall on either side of her. She wanted to cry, wanted to beg for him to stay however in the end, what happened between them rested solely on Ryker’s shoulders “But she won’t share my bed-.” her body stiffened at his words that implied more than just sleeping together in the same bed, it implied having his desires met, having her love for him and only him. Malik’s hands trembled but he quickly clenched them to hide the fact that they were shaking from anger and jealousy at how Ryker spoke about Malia. She sucked in her breath and held it, knowing that whatever choice the smith would make that it was final and that she would respect it “And that’s enough” both Malik and Malia’s eyes widened at his response, his acceptance of what he had come to terms with, his understanding nature despite the pain that so suffocated him, constricting around his already wounded heart. Malia knew that their friendship, their trust and loyalty to one another would need mending further on but she was too consumed with relief, with joy to bother thinking about what would happen later on. She vowed to herself, there in the shadows, pressed against the wall with her hair hiding her features that she would stay away from Vulcan, away from the way the god made her feel, the frightening emotion he dared to awaken within her so that she wouldn’t risk losing Ryker again. The redhead had been right, she would’ve died for him in a heartbeat, would’ve killed whoever he wished for her to but she couldn’t love him when she was incapable of loving, however she could prevent herself from learning to love and push the god away enough for her to focus solely on Ryker. She hadn’t realized it yet but Malia was just like her mother when it came to sacrificing her own happiness, her own light if only she could illuminate the fires of those she cared about most. She was her mother’s daughter, caring and always ready to give but she was also a Campbell and the same cold, brutal nature of her father could be found in her veins. Malik was baffled by Ryker’s ability to accept that he wasn’t what Malia wanted, he was furious at how willing he was to hurt himself so that she could selfishly stay in his presence, keep him at her side. The thought caused his eye to narrow into a glare, hidden behind the reflection of sunlight off his glasses while Ryker smiled sorrowfully at the city ahead of him. He had faith that Vulcan would get Malia to fall in love even if he was incapable of it. Everyone deserved to be love and she was no exception. He would be right there, making sure that her heart didn’t suffer the same fate as his. She deserved a love purer and brighter than any. ‘A love like fire’ he thought and what other method of purifying was there besides using fire? The three of them were so convicted, so sure of what they wanted and what they were going to do but they could hardly understand what the other was feeling or thinking. They were alike I their drive but they were complete opposites when it came to what they believed transpired within that hallway. Ryker didn’t want Malia to distance herself from Vulcan but she would and Malik didn’t understand that Ryker willingly wanted to stay by Malia’s side just as Ryker wasn’t aware of Malik’s love for him. So the misunderstandings and confusion would spread, would grow until they would all come face to face with the truth, with each other’s emotions and be forced to accept it. A gust of wind swept across Rome, causing the crops and grass to dance in its touch. Such was the inner conflicts of man, never being truly able to admit their feelings to one another or understanding the emotions of others, always assuming and always judging. It was what made them weak, what made them utterly and completely human.

Malia.

I pushed off the wall and headed in the direction of the main room located at the bottom of the staircase but stopped when the sound of rattling chains and groaning metal touched my ears. There was an archway to my right that overlooked the arena and when I crept closer to inspect what was happening. My gaze landed on Vulcan, emerging from one of the gates with his hammer slung over his shoulder. He wore an armour chest plate of gold and his leather kilt hung down to his knees. His legs were bound in the same brown cow’s hide with sandals cladding his feet. His wrists were also tied with leather and a helm, the one from my vision was clutched under his arm. He looked ready for war, he appeared as though he was about to march against an army with one of his own backing him but he was alone. My hands balled in the pockets of Neptune’s coat that I wore when I met the sea god’s eyes from where he sat on the opposite side of the arena where onlookers would be seated during a battle. It was clear what he wanted, what he expected of me then. Fight, train, become unbeatable in combat, end the war and bring my mother back. My jaw tightened when I took one swift step off the edge and went tumbling down, landing in a low crouch with so much force that the ground beneath me gave way. In a time of war, I couldn’t let my own emotions dictate my actions. I wanted to stay away from the god of fire but I had to practice and Neptune had been right in saying that Vulcan would be the only opponent capable of pushing me beyond my limits, so much so that I would evolve, that I would better in combat. My hands remained in my coat pockets as I slowly rose from my crouch to stand upright, shoulders relaxed but eyes hard when they met with the crimson pair, already locked on my form “You’re not dressed for war” he declared, eyes roaming over my attire. He was right. The material was thin and breathable, flowy which provided little protection I glanced at Neptune who had been joined by my brother and Ryker. They watched me intensely but I couldn’t allow for them to distract me. My eyes bore into Ryker’s when I tore the coat from my shoulders and tossed it aside, followed by each of my boots. It was only when I unbuttoned my pants that I addressed Vulcan, stepping out of the trousers to leave me in the long, ruffled lace top that Aurella had dressed me in prior but even its neckline was too restricting for me. I raised my hand, eyes glowing while my claws extended to tear and slice at the lacy fabric, ripping it messily to give me room to breathe. Next came the sleeves, one after the other. Vulcan studied me, eyes narrowed in response to how I had stared at Ryker or perhaps it was due to the fact that I had left him that morning, abandoned him to chase after my smith. Once I was done stripping, I raised my arms up over my head and stretched them, shoulder muscles shifting along with my neck as I bent my head from side to side “Since when does a god need armour?” I questioned when my arms lowered themselves back to my sides. Vulcan’s glare was accompanied by an amused smirk as his hammer plunged to the ground below, causing it to tremble beneath its weight. I felt the vibrations course through me. It hadn’t been that long ago that I’d faced him in combat and Ryker had only recently managed to heal from the inflicted wounds. I wasn’t sure if he could handle anymore “Since you decided to fight them” Vulcan responded, catching me off guard. Was it his way of complimenting my fighting skills or was he taunting me? Either way it caused my flesh to grow colder, the siren in me begging to be released, to rampage as she so desired to do “I’ve only ever fought one” I argued to which he chuckled and reached for his breast plate to undo it. The gold dropped with a heavy thud to the earth below followed by leather straps and sandals which were abandoned to the arena with his helmet being flung carelessly aside. He stood only in his kilt as naked as I was and just as exposed “I could tell” my head tilted back a bit to narrow my mismatched eyes onto his. The comment was a playful jab at my pride that humoured me to the point where my lips broke out with a small grin “And I won” I added, reminding him of his defeat but that did little to wipe the smirk from his face, instead his eyes were set alight with something that I could only describe as hunger or desire. The way he looked at me made me think that he wanted nothing more than to fight me in the sheets, to tear the little fabric from my skin and take me as his. My throat bobbed when I swallowed, legs shaking as my core began to ache. I clenched my hands and willed the thoughts away. I was meant to stay away from him, meant to keep my distance and no matter how my body ached for his touch, I would deny it that comfort for Ryker’s sake “Did you?” he questioned, causing doubt in the back of my mind. Had I truly won or did he let me win? Will I win or will he devour me whole? Was I strong enough to fight him or would I lose to his pull? He frustrated me to no end, not just sexually but with a need to fight him, to taste his blood on my lips “Do I get a weapon?” I asked louder, ignoring his question when I looked to Neptune for a response. The god had his arms crossed over his chest while Malik stood beside him, refusing to sit. Neptune nodded his head then spoke softly to my brother whose spine straightened in time with his tensing muscles. What had his father instructed him to do that would cause him to react like that? After a long pause, a ball of water began to form in front of Neptune’s face from thin air as if he willed it. How was it possible for water to be pulled from the air? How had he-? I stopped breathing midway through when the realization came to me. The air was humid. Once the ball had been perfectly formed, Malik unwillingly raised his hand and compelled the water to move to his palm that was pulled back as if he were preparing to throw something. The liquid substance took on the form of a weapon, a sword with a hilt that he clutched in his hand then it hardened and became solid. My eyes widened and my mind raced with questions as to how he was manipulating the water or how he could solidify it. I went back in time to the fight between Malik and I, to the hardened ocean surface that I was able to run on. However; he had done it, it was clear that he’d been able to do it before. The sword was then thrown through the air toward me at breakneck speed, slicing at the atmosphere with precision and accuracy. I merely had to raise my hand to grip the hilt when it was directly in front of my face. The force of the throw nearly tore my arm out of its socket but I managed to tame it, my eyes instantly darting to meet Malik’s once the blade had been secured. My brother was watching me, one eye still bandaged while the other glared at me, a look of pure ice, cold, hard and unforgiving. Had his intense emotions been the cause of his sudden increase in strength? I would never have suspected him of being capable of such brutal strength when I was training him in te ballroom. He had been so weak, so uncertain but in that moment, he resembled a predator, a man willing to kill, fearless and filled with a burning anger “Brother-.” I trailed off, my voice a low utterance before I pushed the thoughts of him away and turned to face Vulcan, the sword that was freezing to the touch clutched in hand as if it was simply an extension of my arm, ready to be used to its full potential. The weapon was beautiful, entirely see through but it glittered like snow would when struck by sunlight. It was thin and lightweight as to not slow me down like Vulcan’s hammer would do to him. In a way, the sword reminded me of the sea and it helped bring me back to what I really was. I was filled with fire but my body was made up of water, salt water. I breathed it, I longed for it, I was it “I will show no mercy” Vulcan warned, reaching for his hammer to pluck it from the earth. I readied my stands, legs spreading and knees bending as they always would before a fight in case there was any need for me to absorb a blow or move out of the way quickly. In my mind I knew what advantages I had even before the fight had started and I was planning to use them, all of them. The air around me shifted, growing damper, colder as my eyes glowed, the pupils slitting and fangs protruding to match my already elongated claws. My flesh became littered in blue scales that glistened green and my short dirty blond hair turned silver as the strands began to float, dancing and swaying above me as if I was fully submerged in water. I raised my hand that held the sword to shield my face with the weapon then narrowed my gaze onto my prey and spoke the word that would give way to a tiring, agonizing battle, more ruthless than the first “None”

Neptune.

A long pause followed Malia’s voice, the air filling with tension as the two faced one another, neither prepared to make the first move. It was then that I picked up on what she was doing and what her intention was behind changing her usual fighting style. Malia was always the first to strike, charging head first into a fight without care or fear of consequence yet there she was, perfectly still, waiting for Vulcan to attack instead of the other way around. My eyes narrowed in question as the stalemate crept on, unsure of what would happen next. To the god, it might’ve appeared as though she had learned a few things from their last encounter and was putting them into motion but in actual fact, she couldn’t care less about technique or form. When it came to combat, all Malia ever cared about was winning no matter what the cost. Her reckless abandon and unplanned attacks were what gave her the ability to survive any situation. She was unpredictable and because of that, she was also unstoppable. The standoff was brought to a sudden end when Vulcan decided that he’d had enough of it. His hammer was chucked through the air, aimed at the place where Malia was standing her ground. The cry that escaped the god tore through the Coliseum but Malia hardly made a sound when she side stepped the weapon, swiftly dodging it as though she was a ballerina, light on her feet and poised. She glanced at the place where the hammer imbedded itself into the ground, sending up small rocks and portions of earth that scattered in every direction. While she was momentarily distracted, Vulcan charged, heading straight for her with his fist raised. Malia felt his heavy steps vibrating through the ground and ducked beneath his punch, the tip of her blade nipping at his side, drawing first blood. She twisted and landed in a low crouch behind the god, her form skidding along the floor of the arena. The amount of distance she had managed to place between them in such a short time was astonishing. The way she moved was like she was flying, fast and calculated. What had brought about such a change in her style of combat? My thought went back to the image of her earlier that morning. She stood at the top of the staircase with red sheets pressed to her naked form, looking desperate and frightened of something. I glanced at the red headed young man she had formed such a close bond with over the years and knew that the gawking observer was the reason why she was acting the way she was. Vulcan wrenched his hammer from the ground and advanced quickly, quicker than you would expect a man of his size to move. He raised his weapon and was about to slam it down onto her but Malia dodged, flipping backwards, first landing on her hand then on the balls of her feet only to repeat the process a few times until she came to a stop with her back near the wall “Why is she avoiding him?” Ryker questioned but it was directed more at himself than anyone else. It was as if he was speaking his thoughts out loud. Malik hadn’t been too absorbed in the fight, not caring who won either way but when the redhead spoke, it was as though his eyes could finally see the fight, as if a veil had been stripped from over them. The way, the young man effected both my son and Caleb’s daughter was unexplainable. They both cared about him in different ways and both of them relied on him despite them being the ones with the power and capabilities. They were the golems but he was the strength that forced them to move “Why isn’t she fighting?” Ryker asked, but this time he looked to Malik who was stood at his side, calm and collected. The redhead’s hands were gripping the railing as he leaned forward, a thirty-foot drop standing between him and the floor of the Coliseum “Lia never does this-.” he continued, peeking my interests. Just how well did he know Malia if he’d managed to pick up on her fighting technique having changed? “She always charges in head first without thinking-.” I listened intently, knowing that he was right and astonished by his assessment of her. Perhaps he would prove himself useful after all? Ryker stared at a poised Malia, her lips only slightly parted to take in more air as she awaited Vulcan’s next move “Why is she thinking?” the question caused an amused smirk to stretch across Malik’s lips but only for the briefest of moments before he turned serious and focused on examining his sister more closely. Vulcan was starting to grow impatient with her unwillingness to fight and lost his composure, darting forward with his hand outstretched to grab hold of her throat but she leaped into the air and kicked off his shoulder to propel herself upward enough for her to jump off the wall of the arena and land somewhere behind him in a low crouch. He slammed into the wall with his shoulder then turned viciously, teeth bared, red eyes glowing with irritation and bloodlust “she’s avoiding touching him” I announced after coming to my own conclusion. The redhead turned to look at me with concern in his eyes in response to my sudden statement. He and Malik had both been summoned to the arena by me to observe the fight, however Malia avoiding combat due to Ryker was the last thing I had expected to witness “Because she’s afraid that she might give into the hold he has on her” there was no denying that both Vulcan and Malia were more alike than even they themselves would like to admit. Both had troubled pasts, both relished in the fight, both subconsciously associated love with combat and bloodlust and it was these similarities that drew them toward one another “She may not want to admit it but Malia does believe in love” Ryker’s breath caught in response to my words whereas Malik kept his back to me, only glancing every now and then but otherwise his sole focus was on the fight, what little there was of it. Some things about Caleb’s daughter were easy to decipher but others were mysteries, even to me “Her concept just differs from normal people’s ideals” my eyes momentarily left Malia’s figure to meet with the young man’s confused gaze. Ryker most likely found comfort in the fact that she was unable to love but in truth, she was just uninterested in him, her preferred man needing to share the same view on love as her “Think of it as a man falling in love with another man-.” I paused when Malik’s head turned, his singular eye gazing down at me with a glint of warning and fear in their depths. He was afraid that I would reveal his secret but he was also ready to tear my heart out of my chest if it came to it. I may have been his father but Malik only saw me as such in biological terms. In his mind, the true father figure whom he respected and looked up to was Caleb “Or a man marrying more than one woman” I continued, ignoring Malik’s threatening glance. We all had different views and preferences when it came to love whether it concerned gender or appearances, personality traits and convictions was up to the person and Malia was no different “She has a very specific preference when it comes to men, so much so that she gave up on the very idea of love with the conclusion that she would never find a man that could meet her set standards” trying to explain it to them was harder than I’d first thought it would be. Malia was complicated to say the least but she was human at her core and all human’s desired love, they craved it like a god craves power, a pirate craves riches. Ryker’s head slowly turned back to the fight, to the woman he had grown up alongside, the female he had fallen in love with over the past years “I don’t believe she realized it herself, but that ideal lover came to be the one she declared as being worthy of fighting her-.” oblivious as she was to the situation, there would be a time when her constant struggle to resist Vulcan would cease and end in her giving into her desires for him whether she wanted to or not “And that ideal lover, the one who she deemed worthy turned out to be the god of fire” a sense of shock filled the air around us. They had thought it but never truly wanted to say the words out loud until I blatantly spoke them. Malia’s happiness and well-being was as much my responsibility as it was Caleb’s or Evangeline’s. She may not have been my daughter but she was Evangeline’s daughter and because of that she was mine as well. If her happiness lied with Vulcan, then there was no mistaking that I would insure she accepted him regardless of Ryker’s role in all of it “Right now, she’s not just fighting him but she’s fighting her attraction to him all because she’s afraid of losing you” the accusing tone in my voice when I spoke the last word was directed toward Ryker whose eyes I met. He looked pale, as if he’d been struck in the face with cold water. His hands balled at his sides when he realized what Malia was doing and that he was the cause of it. He gritted his teeth and cast his eyes downward before he turned toward the arena and yelled the words I hadn’t been expecting him to say “Stop fighting it!” Malia’s head shot up to look at Ryker, caught off guard by his demanding tone and the sheer volume of his voice piercing the air. Vulcan glared at Ryker in annoyance, already disliking him for the fact that he stood between him and Malia but by interrupting their fight, he managed to enrage the god even more. The redhead didn’t particularly care about Vulcan and instead he kept his attention focused on Malia “I’m not going anywhere!” he clarified and for a brief moment I could see the young man’s heart shattering in his chest as he sacrificed his own happiness for hers before my very eyes “I’ll always be right here!” he sounded like a desperate child, pleading with his fallen friend to get up, so young and so naïve. Malia’s eyes widened and grew wet, glossing over with unshed tears as she listened to him, his words. Was he finally about to let go of the leash he had tied around her throat? Would he allow her to love another? “No matter what!” a faint smile tugged at my lips when realization struck. The blacksmith really did care for her in more ways than one. He was truly brave, a selfless young- no. He was a selfless man, having evolved from the boy he was and into a full grown human male. I admired him for his sacrifice, admired his desire to see her as happy as I did. Malia’s hand that clutched the hilt of Malik’s sword began to tremble when she hid her face behind her hair, trying to hide the fact that she was about to cry if she couldn’t manage to fight the tears away. It was then, as a gust of air tore through the arena and silence filled the air between the five of us that she parted her lips to speak “Thank you” she sincerely said before her stands once again adjusted to battle and she flung herself head first into the fight, no longer afraid of touching Vulcan or holding back with Ryker’s blessing. He had allowed for her to be free, to make her own choices, to love as she desired and that in itself had been a true act of unconditional love.