Chosen By the Villain

Caelum strode toward the courtyard, his boots echoing softly against the cold stone. This base was usually only inhabited by a few of his people. Enough to keep it running smoothly and to protect it from being invaded by enemy forces. His own home was far away, and it had been some time since he’d been there. Now, he was here out of necessity. The hero’s party had been spotted only a few miles from here, so he’d come as quickly as he could to meet his companions. His hands were clasped behind his back as he walked into the courtyard. His posture was straight, his steps measured as he moved toward the others. His companions were already dismounting and unbuckling the supplies they had gone out for. Some of the workers were coming forward to tend to the horses and help with the supplies. His tense shoulders relaxed a little when he saw everyone had come back, and mostly unscathed. Pell, the newest among his elite, had a bandage on his slender arm. But seeing as Torren, his healer, was already heading toward the keep, it must not have been anything severe. When Rhex had gone silent, Caelum had been worried. His second-in-command rarely shut off the communication charm between them. Caelum had to attend to other matters closer to home, while Rhex had gone out with a team to gather supplies for the keep. It was supposed to be a simple trip, and Caelum hardly needed to worry when several of his strongest companions were going, but he hadn’t survived this long by taking things lightly. When Rhex had gone silent, Caelum had only assumed the worst. He found his second easily. The man was a giant, towering over the others. His broad shoulders and thick, corded arms were free from any armor. He only wore tight black leather that protected his neck and chest. Rhex smiled when he saw him, and the tension in Caelum’s chest eased just a little more. He walked toward the group, and the quiet conversations fell silent, some looking at him in awe before scurrying away. Pell gave him a small wave before running in the direction Torren had gone. “I take it your encounter with the hero party went according to your plan?” Caelum asked, tilting his head up just enough to meet his second in the eyes. Rhex’s smile faltered. “Not exactly. Had things gone as I intended, I’d be reporting this war is over once and for all. But the hero wasn’t with the party.” Rhex dipped his head. “I’m sorry, sir.” Caelum waved a hand in dismissal. “Don’t fret so much. If they had been easily disposed of, this conflict would not have lasted as long as it has. Besides, why should you get to have all the fun? I would be disappointed if I didn’t see the hero’s final moments. So, what has you in such high spirits? Managed to maim a few of his friends?” Rhex’s smile returned. “Even better.” He stepped aside to reveal a woman behind him. “You would have enjoyed watching as they ran away as quickly as they could.” He lifted one broad arm up, displaying the enchanted shackles that glowed softly against the captive’s tan skin. “This one had no hope of catching up, not with her injured ankle.” Caelum’s eyes moved from his friend to the ankle of the young woman. It appeared as though Torren had already bound it, but hadn’t used his magic to heal it. He could see how she carried herself, that she was trying not to put much weight on that leg. Her long brown hair was tangled with soot and dirt. It had once been held in place with a braid, but there was little of the braid left now. She had light, worn-down leather armor. It was scuffed and torn to pieces, but Caelum could see that meticulous care had gone into it. It was peculiar armor for a member of the hero’s party. The hero and his members chose expensive, flashy armor. While hers would blend in easily with her surroundings. Her head hung low, obscuring her eyes from Caelum’s silent inspection. Her shoulders were hunched, making her look even smaller compared to the man who was holding her chains. Through the mess of her hair, Caelum caught the hint of a pointed ear, suggesting some fae heritage. Caelum unclasped his hands and stepped forward. The movement caught her attention, and she tensed, but did not move. She did not cry or beg as so many did when seeing him. Even when his finger touched her chin, she did not flinch. He lifted her head with barely any pressure. She had moved compliantly, as though accustomed to enduring others’ whims. Their eyes met at last. Her eyes were the color of moss. They looked older than her appearance suggested, although that could have something to do with her fae heritage. They seemed tired. “Now,” he said calmly, “what is it that you do for the hero?” Those eyes widened just a little, as though surprised he was speaking to her rather than by the question he’d asked. Her eyes moved back downward, even though his finger kept her chin in place. “I don’t see how that matters.” “It matters to me.” He replied. “I have seen every member of his party over the years. Warriors, spellcasters, that pompous healer he travels with, but never you.” His gaze drifted deliberately over her plain armor, her ink-stained fingers. “You don’t seem to be like any of them.” Rhex also looked her over, sneering. “Maybe she’s new.” “No. I’ve always been with him.” She responded quickly. “We grew up together.” She continued, as though that explained everything. Rhex grinned. “So, she’s important then. Too important to have at his side during a fight.” The woman’s mouth twisted. “If you say so.” Her voice was quiet, resolute. “A lover perhaps?” Rhex continued. “Is that what you do? Keep the hero’s bed warm?” She scoffed. “As if he’d ever choose me.” “What purpose do you serve?” Caelum asked again, gently, this time. Her lips pressed together, and her jaw tightened. “I don’t believe that’s any of your concern, villain.” She spat out the last word as though it was a curse. Rhex raised an eyebrow. His hand tightened on the chains, but Caelum motioned for him not to act. He responded to the woman calmly. “You say that as though it offends me. I’ve heard it plenty of times before.” He gestured to Rhex beside him. He, on the other hand, gets rather offended when people call me that.” She looked at the man who held her chains and shrugged, appearing as unbothered as if they were talking about the weather. Caelum took a step back, returning his hands behind him once more. “It doesn’t really matter what function you serve him. You’ll serve me quite nicely. Your very presence will bring the hero to me. And we can finally end this once and for all.” He turned to leave when he heard her say quietly. “He won’t.” He looked back at her. Her eyes met him on their own accord now. Certain in her belief. “Oh? And why is that?” He asked, genuinely curious. “Because I’m not important.” Rhex hissed beside him. Now, not angry with him, but angry with her. Perhaps he couldn’t fathom Caelum doing the same thing if it were reversed. Caelum would destroy anyone who touched one of his people. He could not imagine the hero would react any differently. “That,” Caelum said slowly, “is an opinion, not a fact.” She gave a small, humorless smile. “Heroes don’t tell the difference.” Something cold slid into place behind Caelum’s eyes. “Well,” he said at last, turning away, “we shall see.” He gestured to the guards. “Take her to the dungeon.” To Rhex, he said, “Increase security. I want guards doubled and alert at all hours.” Giving one last look at his new captive, he said. “If she is right, nothing will happen. And if she’s wrong,” he paused “then I want to be sure we give him a warm welcome.” “I’m never wrong.” She said with certainty as she was led away. “No one is coming.” Caelum stood there longer than was necessary, watching the guards take her away. He found his thoughts did not linger on the hero, but on the calm resolution in her voice in her final statement. And for reasons he could not yet name, that unsettled him more than any threat ever had.