A Daughter's Love

Chapter Twenty-Three.

Malia.

When I left the ballroom, I realized that the sun was starting to set over Rome and I stopped to observe its orange glow from one of the many archways that overlooked the city. The way the light struck the rooftops made it look as though they were on fire, flickering and dancing in time with the drums of war. My eyes too glowed vibrantly when a vision crept across my line of sight. A man, clad in armor of gold stood among a battlefield that was littered in corpses, blood running down its slopes like a crimson river. Both armies had fought to the bitter end and only one man came out victorious. He made his way to the top of a hill, bear arms and legs coated in blood, sweat and dirt while the skies rumbled overhead, grieving for the loss of life it had witnessed. The gladiator removed his helm once he’d reached the top, a helm decorated in a red tail. He gazed upon the chaos, the destruction, limbs strewn about, swords, spears, axes and daggers slicked in layers upon layer of scarlet. The stench of death hung thick in the air, crows crying out in the nearby trees that had been stripped bare in the fires that the war had caused. The man’s face was familiar but held pain and guilt rather than pride or victory. His brother’s had been slaughtered, the earth had been scorch beyond regrowth and the skies too were rumbling mournfully. His helm dropped to the ground by his feet and he wandered through the desert of corpses, empty, lifeless eyes staring up at him almost accusingly. Their mouths gaped as though to yell words of disgust, words of loathing when he passed but there was only silence that followed the thunder and hungry cries of crows. The war had been won yet he felt such agony within his soul. How could his king order such a thing of his subjects? How could one man condemn so many for the sake of land, land and riches? The gladiator fell to his knees and wept, he cried for his brothers, for their widowed wives and fatherless children. He cursed at the earth, the king he had so blindly followed and even the sky tasted his rage, so much so that it struck back. A flash of lighting flickered across the sky then darted down upon him in the blink of an eye. The man fell onto his side, his chest and torso badly burnt from the lap of the heavens, eyes wide open as if he were dead but his heartbeat only grew stronger. Amun had chosen him, had watched as he slayed man after man without hesitation, had counted the bodies as if they were scars on his flesh, jewels decorating his armor but they were not prizes nor something to be proud of. They were curses, souls that would haunt his dreams at night and torment his mind during daylight, leaving him ever restless, ever taunted. The god of the gods had chosen him not just because of his skills in battle or his sheer ruthlessness but as a means to punish him for what he had done. In his flash of rage, in his lust for bloodshed the gladiator had turned on his own people, had slaughtered them as he vanquished the enemy and because of that he would be forced to live forever, spending an eternity haunted by his own actions, the images of his past. That single man come to be the god of fire and war. He awoke, not on the battlefield as he had expected but on the floor of a throne room where a second king awaited him. This king was not like his mortal king, no, this one was ancient, ageless and wise as he appeared before a confused Vulcan and Vulcan did the only thing he knew how. He bowed his head in submission and pledged himself to his new king like the servant he had been groomed to be from a young age. Torn from his mother by his father’s hand and tossed into the arena where he was forced to fend for himself, growing and fighting, fighting and eating. These were the only things he knew how to do and he excelled in the combat, killed without remorse until he stood above all, unbeaten and hungry for more. There was not enough blood in the world that could quench his thirst. His rank among the king’s prized warrior’s led the ruler of Rome to claim him as a general in his army, a general that would win but become far greater than just that. His prior king was just a lowly mortal compared to him, a man that would wither and die as the years rushed by but Vulcan would remain, he would rule and he would serve. I blinked to find that the hallway had grown dark, the sun having disappeared behind the horizon as stars littered the blackened canvass overhead. How long had I been trapped in that vision? Was it even a vision at all? I turned away from the archways, away from Rome just as a sharp cry tore through the air behind me. My eyes widened when I glanced in the direction of the sound, meeting with a ball of fire that spun and dove through the air in the large hallway. It was only when it passed by, directly in front of my face that I realized what it was, its heat being absorbed by the flesh of my features. The bird’s wings were extended wide, beating strongly, purposefully as it passed, made of orange and red flames that twisted together like wisps representing feathers. That fire narrowly missed the strands of my hair when it dove past, pulling up and twisting in and out of the columns, heading deeper into the Coliseum. Subconsciously, I moved to follow, running after it as an attempt to keep up but the bird that was no bigger than a cat managed to lose me. I came to a stop in a familiar hallway, my breathing normal and steps slow, cautious when I ventured closer, able to feel the approaching heat as if the gates of hell were somewhere directly in front of me. The room I had bathed in passed by on my left as the familiar room I had awoken in that morning opened up in front of me. The bird swooped past me, stopping me dead in my tracks then twisted and landed with its sharp claws extended, on a muscular arm that belonged to a man, seated on the foot of the bed. The fire did little to burn Vulcan’s flesh as he watched me like a tiger would a small rabbit but the rabbit he had thought me to be turned out to be a lion, equal in strength and just as hungry “The bird-.” I began, eyes never once leaving his though I could see the great fire that burnt brilliantly in the center of the room. Its warmth was noticeable but it was nothing compared to the scorching heat that radiated from Vulcan’s body. He glanced at the fire bird that sat perched on his extended arm “The Phoenix-.” he agreed, already knowing what it was I was about to say. I kept my shoulder’s straightened, my body tense, expecting to be caught off guard since I couldn’t afford for him to get the better of me, not when he had such an effect on me “She is a Guardian of mine” her wings stretched out in opposite directions, her head held back and chest pushed forward as if she sensed her master’s praise, his pride when speaking of her “Her sole purpose is to monitor the surrounding areas-.” he informed, her flames dancing along his arm, almost caressing the muscle lovingly. Her wings coiled back to her side and her head stayed starkly still, large eye blinking at me from across the room “And inform me of any imminent danger” she wasn’t a creature of war, meant to fight like Cetus or Hydra but instead she was passive, aged and filled with wisdom. Her beak parted in a small screech that was faint, almost pleading for her master’s attention. He reluctantly complied, raising his free hand to run the back of his fingers across her chest, causing her flaming features to stand on end. My jaw clenched as I watched him, a flare of jealousy rising in my chest at the sight of him caressing her, but I suppressed it, thinking it foolish of me “Go to her” Vulcan whispered to the bird as if to convince her of doing so. The Phoenix turned her head to more directly stare at me then leaped into the air, her wings beating powerfully, carrying her weight in my direction. I instinctively raised my arms to shield myself from her burning touch “Fire will not burn you-.” Vulcan declared just as the bird landed on one of my raised arms. Her warmth overwhelming as I slowly began to lower my limbs after realizing that there was no pain, no burning sensation or stench of scorching flesh “In my presence” the god finished, but I was too entranced by the Guardian, the feel of her claws digging into my flesh, the tickle of her feathers to look at him. She radiated heat, power and superiority ‘You are the fire’ a strong female voice said in the back of my mind as she stretched out her wings once more and cried out, beating them roughly to take off, circling the room and exiting through the archways that lined the far wall. My eyes couldn’t be torn from her, not until she was out of sight and I was left staring at the empty space where she had once been. The bonfire flared, catching my attention and Vulcan’s words echoed in my head ‘Fire will not burn you’. Was it true? I glanced in the god’s direction, catching his crimson eyes with mine before I acted on impulse, moving in the direction of the bonfire. My feet halted in front of the brilliant blaze, breathing in deep. Without a hint of further hesitation, I stepped into the fire, feet savoring the feel of the soft ash as the dancing flames lapped at my flesh. I was terrified but the desire to prove my faith in the god was stronger. The heat was enough to cause sweat to trickle down my body, the blaze reaching up to my neck as the hem of my dress caught fire. The material slowly began to dissolve, creeping upward until every inch of me was left bare apart from the dress of flames that flickered around me. Vulcan watched me intently, perched on the edge of the bed, his body urging him to move but his mind knowing better. I ran my fingers through the fire. I felt the movement of its violent dance like the beating of my heart as my eyes glanced in the god’s direction. My mind took me back to the images I had been shown of him. The gladiator that stood triumphant in the arena, covered in streaked crimson, his nose broken, teeth yellow with his own blood, a war cry escaping his lips, powerful and feral. I saw the way he spat to the ground, how he continued to stab his opponent with his sword or daggers until nothing remained but a pile of flesh. My eyes closed and the picture of a woman filled the darkness, a beautiful brunette who wore a circlet upon her head and was dressed in the finest cloth. I saw the way he brutally took her beneath the light of the moon, how he grunted like an animal, grabbed at her, slapped and forced her face into the mattress of the bed. He choked her, bruised her like the beast he was. Merciless and hungry. She had to be the king’s wife, she was an affair that could’ve caused his death but he felt nothing towards her. She was just another outlet for his rage, his blood lust. My eyes snapped open and once more locked onto his. Why was he showing me all of this? Why trust me with his memories, his past? His gaze, orbs of swirling blood beckoned me forward and I obeyed, stepping down from the bonfire to move across the concrete flooring until I came to a stop directly in front of him, naked and exposed for him to see. By having stepped into the pyre it not only proved to him that I trusted his word as he trusted me with his memories but it announced that I didn’t fear the fire, his fire. I positioned myself in between his parted legs and reached out to run my fingertips along the scars that decorated his shoulder, arm and chest. The image of him being struck down my lightning played out in my thoughts, the cause of those markings. They were painful reminders of what he had done, of the lives he had taken, lives that belonged to his people, his brothers. They were his sins “They’re magnifique” I whispered, watching as the light from the fire danced across his bare skin, illuminating his already blazing eyes when they roamed over my body like mine took in his. I tensed at the feel of his hand, gliding up along my thigh to my hip and waist where he tightened his grip almost possessively “I can’t see your memories like you can see mine” he reminded me, his powerful hands, scratching at my skin when it ventured ever upward to cup my left breast roughly. I exhaled sharply, my hand gripping his shoulder, forcing him to meet my gaze “There is nothing to see” I informed, leaning forward, never having wanted to taste a man’s kiss more than I ached to taste his, but I stopped myself when our foreheads were pressed together, my free hand cupping the side of his face in my palm “I haven’t lived until now” I admitted, not only referring just to him but to Neptune, to being awoken, to the combat, finding the one who is worthy. All that truly mattered were the last few days of my life, everything beforehand seemed black and white compared to the kaleidoscope of colors that surrounded me ever since my encounter with Neptune. Vulcan let go of my breast to press firmly at my lower back until my chest was flush against his, his heat surrounding me, comforting me. Our bodies were slicked in sweat, glistening in the light of his ever burning fire. A shiver was sent down the back of my spine, my flesh tingling when I leaned into him, unable to stop the need that circled in the back of my mind, causing my fingers and lips to burn with a need to taste and touch him. What was this feeling? Was it what people called love or was it simply lust? “Then let us live” he spoke, his voice was deep and domineering, demanding yet sweet as it uttered to me. I kept staring into his eyes, seeing the various images of them over the years, their angry glare, their tear filled depths, the love that consumed them in the past, the guilt, the suffering and agony. He interrupted my train of thoughts by pulling me onto the bed, both arms wrapped protectively around me as he fell back onto the hard mattress, bringing me to him and burying his face into the side of mine. Our legs tangled, my hands placed against his chest from wanting to block my fall earlier though they quickly slid up to trace the lines of his face and the veins protruding from his neck. Nothing ever felt more right than having my body mold with his. Not Ryker’s kiss, his touch or even his generosity could compare to the intense desire that I felt toward the god. Was it because of our shared blood lust? Because he was deemed worthy? Perhaps it was the warrior blood in our veins? Were the gladiator and the assassin twistedly attracted to one another? I had no control over my body or mind when I searched his features, his strong nose, his curved lips, his bloody gaze. Even the red marking on the side of his face managed to entrance me. I was the siren yet he was the one who lured me to him not with a song but with his fists. He didn’t need to seduce me when all it took was him forcing me into his arms to get what he wanted. My fingertips slid along his cheek, his jaw and across his bottom lip before he closed his eyes and breathed out a long sigh, crushing me to his body so he could hide his face in the side of my head, taking in my scent of sea salt and French soil. I could smell his sweat, the leather of his kilt, the blood on his flesh from years of fighting. I felt his heart beating steadily in his chest, could hear the blood pumping through his arteries, could feel his hands tightening their hold on my form, smaller in comparison to his mighty build. What was this man to me? What was causing the tightness in my throat? The flutter in my chest? The knot in my stomach? Was it the bond we shared or was it the spell his kiss had placed me under? I dared contemplate whether that kiss was more than just a blessing and whether it held a compelling curse that manipulated me into feeling like I did toward him or not. I fell asleep to the thought, listening to him snore softly, already having drifted off into dreams of battle. I dreamed of a princess, young and naive, left to rule her kingdom after her father’s sudden death. She wore a dress soaked in the blood of her people, their deaths during a time of war cladding her body like a badge of honor as she ventured through the streets. She was barefoot and without a crown, humbled and viewing herself as no greater than the poorest of her subjects. The princess was beloved by her people, praised by songs and various gifts when she passed. A Knight strode at her sides, a giant of a man behind a layer of pure golden armor, his face hidden beneath a helm with two double edge swords dangling at his sides. He would slaughter any who would dare to venture too close to his future Queen. He had been her loyal guardian and protector since the day she was born, he was all she had ever known yet at night she snuck out of her lavish castle to visit the armory where a young man awaited her. There they made love before the fires of the ovens, endlessly, captivated by each other but the smith saw her as a trophy, a prize compared to any other woman. She returned to the castle one night to find her loyal Knight waiting for her, driven mad with worry. His undying devotion and constant concern, his willingness to kill for her, to die for her was a testimony of true love yet she was too blinded by lust to see the King best suited for both her heart and her nation that stood before her. She married the smith and made him King only to be cast aside the moment he grew bored of her, exiling her from her kingdom. Alone she left but she never was as her Knight followed her and gave her the comfort she so needed. He showed her the true meaning of love and slowly, as commoners, they fell in love. Happiness and love isn’t built upon riches or thrones, it is found in the fields of farmlands, in the old, warn down homes of simple people without status or money. Love at its truest form did not care for circumstance. I had never dreamed of love before then, had never felt the need for the emotion as I had when awakening from that dream. I woke to his warmth, to the early orange sun that cast the room in a sunrise hue. The red sheets were tangled and wound around my body along with his strong arms, my back held firmly to his front. My eyes blinked past the sleep to focus on my hand that lay across the pillow before my face, the other gripping Vulcan’s hand, our fingers intertwined with his leg resting in between mine. I could feel his thigh pressing up against my core, his face buried in the side of my neck, his even breaths tickling my shoulder. Crimson Lenten rose petals had blown in with the light breeze, decorating the large bed and filling the air with their scent. My hand untangled itself from his to run up along his arm, feeling the texture of his flesh beneath my fingertips, as gently as if I were to touch the thorns of a rose. I turned my head, not wanting to disturb him but longing to gaze upon his features. He groaned in protest and buried his face deeper into my skin and hair, breathing in deep. The hand that traced his arm, moved to trace his cheek but stiffened and froze at the sound of a familiar voice, fast approaching “Lia! Lia? Where are you?” Ryker drew me out of my daze, my body shifting to quickly sit upright among the sheets and petals. Vulcan grumbled low in his chest, his arm slung across my lap while I pressed the scratchy material of the sheets to my nude chest. I looked to the doorway as the redheaded young man appeared in it, eyes filled with concern and surrounded in dark circles when he took me in. For a split second relief flickered past his gaze but it quickly turned to hurt and betrayal when they took in my surroundings. I glanced to Vulcan who blinked up at me, annoyance written clear across his sleepy eyes when they took me in but they softened, his hand moving to trace his fingers across my lips and cheek. My head whipped around to gaze at Ryker when he began to back away slowly “Please-.” I breathed almost desperately, knowing what was about to happen, the chaos and agony that was about to unfold “Don’t” I finished, alerting Vulcan to the presence of someone else in his bedchamber. The god raised his head and began to sit up, keeping me pinned between his arms. Ryker couldn’t see the kilt beneath the red sheets that Vulcan still wore, he couldn’t possibly know that all we did was sleep. He hurriedly turned away and slowly disappeared down the hall, heading in the direction of the room he had woken up in with the grand staircase and tapestries. I froze, my body going numb, having expected him to yell, to drag me from the bed and scold me. I could only wish for such a reaction as the silence was deafening “Ryker!” I cried out after him, hoping he would stop but he didn’t. My eyes began to string, the whites turning red before Vulcan’s observant gaze. Without much thought, I tore free of his hold and dragged the sheets along with me in pursuit of the blacksmith. I stumbled once I thought that, the image of the princess from my dream making love to her smith flickering past my blurred vision. I willed it away and quickened my pace, catching up to him, hand reaching for his sleeve, tugging on it like a desperate child “Ne pars pas” I pleaded with him, blocking his path and pressing my face into his arm that I clung to, into his chest “S'il vous plait” I added in a rush, biting back the tears that so threatened to escape at the thought of losing him. My voice was strained when I spoke again and he could hear it breaking “Ne me quitte pas” I begged, feeling my knees tremble beneath me, wanting to give way, but I remained standing, refusing to crumble, refusing to allow for tears to escape my eyes. Ryker’s response to my plea ‘Don’t leave me’ was to give a sad smile, his hand squeezing my shoulder in an act of comfort. I raised my head to meet his hurt gaze and was taken off guard when he leaned down, pressing his lips to my forehead where he lingered. Ryker closed his eyes and kept his chin firm against my head for a few moments before he pulled away completely “Je ne pourrais jamais” those were his parting words as he left, abandoning me to the hallway, my hands tightening their grip on the sheets, knuckles turning white. ‘I could never’ he had reminded me. I raised one hand to bury my face in its palm, gritting my teeth to fight the tears in an endless war, the knot in my throat only tightening in response to his reaction. He believed what he saw was me having slept with Vulcan, having tossed him aside as if he was nothing, having chosen the god above him but that simply wasn’t true. Yet even in that despair, that brutal betrayal and agonizing realization, he still cared for me and refused to insult or belittle me. I hated myself for ever having hurt him. Him. A man who would give his life for me as the Knight in my dream would’ve done for his princess. After fighting the tears with trembling hands, I spared a brief glance in the direction Ryker had disappeared to and found my brother standing there instead. His jaw was set in stone, his fists balled at his sides with a deadly glare that I deserved. I averted my eyes and he turned swiftly to rush after Ryker. Blinking down at the concrete flooring, I felt the heat vibrating through the solid surface, Vulcan’s heat and looked to the room at the end of the hall where I’d left him. My feet desired to carry me toward him, my hands ached to touch him, lips trembling with a need for his kiss, his voice the sweetest sound but I couldn’t bring myself to move in that direction. Instead, I turned and made my way to the staircase where both Neptune and Aurella stood in the room below. The witch held a knowing smirk while her god stared up at me, perched on the top of the grand staircase with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat and his jaw clenched “Dress her” he ordered Aurella after his eyes had soaked in my state, the thin material that was pressed to my torso. The woman didn’t very much like the way he demanded her to do things but complied with a swift nod regardless. She pushed off the pillar she had been leaning against and stalked her way up the stairs, taking them one at a time. Her tall heels clicked with every step and her body moved as though she was a panther, stalking its prey among tall grass and reeds. I kept my head held high though I felt ashamed and guilty when she came to a stop beside me, her ashen gaze fluttering over my form for the briefest of moment in judgement. She didn’t speak, heading for a room on the opposite end of the staircase as Vulcan’s but just as large. I assumed that she expected for me to follow and did just that, taking in the room while she headed for a collection of dresses, strew across the two couches that could be found on either side of the bed that matched Vulcan’s. There was a large, rectangular table in the middle of the room, eight chairs of metal having been placed around it while its surface was littered with books, maps and even a smaller version of Vulcan’s globe. Red, white and black candles littered the room but they were blown out, the scent of herbs and smoke hung thick in the air and the same white curtains hung before the archways that lined both walls, one overlooking the city and the other overlooking the arena of the Coliseum “When it comes to the gods-.” Aurella began to speak, addressing me directly and not indirectly as she often tended to do. She had a habit of looking down on people whom she believed to be of less worth to her “I would advise you be cautious-.” she admitted, not bothering to so much as glance at me while she reached for article after article of clothing, holding them up to examine them only to abandon them later “However your attraction to him had long been foreseen” my spine straightened and my hands tightened on the fabric of the sheets. I stared at her with hardened orbs, mismatched eyes that could kill. Was she insinuating that she knew I would react to Vulcan as I had? If so, why hadn’t she said anything, but then when did Aurella feel the need to ever speak to anyone other than the gods? “It was inevitable with you sharing the same twisted notion of love” that word sent a chill down my spine and made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. My gaze narrowed into slits, my jaw clenching in irritation. She knew that I didn’t believe in love nor did I very much care for it. I refused to even harbor the idea of such an emotion yet she insisted that I still experienced it. Who was she to speak when she couldn’t possibly know what I was feeling? “I just didn’t expect for you to give yourself up so eagerly” it was a snide comment that made my blood boil. Aurella raised a pair of black trousers then reached for an ebony top that had sleeves of lace and a choker neckline. She smiled sadistically when she moved away from the couch to hand me the pieces of clothing she had hand-picked for me. I remained silent, dropping the sheets abruptly to reveal my naked self and took the clothes, moving to step into the pants with fire and ice coursing through my veins. Her empty eyes traveled up along my legs, to my core, hips and chest then over my shoulders and to my hair. Her hands were neatly folded in front of her, as if she was royalty, moving with grace and poise like a true queen would. I noticed the morning light reflecting off something and took in her emerald ring. The witch never wore anything other than black or the occasional hints of red such as her lipstick but that ring stood out against her attire like a sore thumb “You only ever wear black” I pointed out, tugging the trousers up over my hips and shimmying into them before I pulled the top on over my head and adjusted it to fit more comfortably on my body. Aurella tilted her head slightly upward and gazed down at me, studying me like an enemy would observe their opponent in battle “But that ring is green” she froze for the briefest of moments then smiled, motioning toward the floor at my feet where my boots had appeared and to the back of one of the chairs nearby where Neptune’s coat hung from it. I tugged the articles of clothing onto my feet and shoulders then pulled my hair out of the coat’s collar when I turned to leave “You truly are your father’s daughter” she added but when I turned to retort, she was gone and I was left alone in the room with nothing but my own thoughts to keep me company. I grumbled to myself then exited the room, heading for the staircase where Neptune awaited me below. Unlike his witch, the god’s gaze held no judgement or satisfaction for my circumstance, instead he appeared as focused as ever on the goal of reviving my mother and defeating Amun. No sooner did I reach the bottom step that Neptune began to get down to business “You are to train with Vulcan until you are to be sent back to Vannes where Amun will expect to deliver the sword to you in a few days” his name caused my skin to burst with sparks which I chose to ignore, instead I pictured Ryker’s hurt eyes and clenched my jaw before responding to his commands “I refuse” it wasn’t that Vulcan was a terrible fighter or that he was incapable of keeping up with me during training but it was the effect he had on me, the way he made me feel that would no doubt distract me, hypnotize me “You will face an army soon!” Neptune’s voice rose in volume in response to me moving past him and heading for the ballroom where I had helped Malik train the day prior. I paused to glance back at him, wanting to snap at him but I bit down on my tongue “If you wish to win this war then you should train-.” my hands subconsciously moved to stuff themselves into the pockets of his coat. The clothing brought me comfort in a sense that I couldn’t quite explain “And the only one who can keep up with you-.” don’t say it. I silently prayed, looking away and closing my eyes even though I knew what was to come “Is him” of course it was Vulcan, he was worthy after all. I breathed out a long sigh, shoulders drooping, a sign that I had given in and surrendered. With my father’s face in mind and my mother’s voice ringing in my ears, I gave a curt nod, not bothering to look at the sea god. Like much else before it, I had no choice in the matter. Pushing the fire god away would prove to be an almost impossible task but I was determined to try, if only for Ryker’s sake. I could never love as he expected me to, I wasn’t even sure if I was possible of such a thing but I would sacrifice what I desire if it meant keeping Ryker at my side. He could kiss me, could touch me if it pleased him and I would surrender, all to keep him from abandoning me and that was the tragic truth. I was powerful, ruthless and uncontrollable but Ryker, he could bend me to his will if he so desired, he just didn’t know it yet.