Unbound

Discovery

The stranger’s eyes turned obsidian – all white eliminated. Gold danced within the abyss, sending Analise swaying on her feet. A strong force bolstered her waist, turned her into the magical stranger beside her.

The world swirled around her in a dizzying array of colors. She squinted through the mayhem, desperate to discern the world around her. A fruitless endeavor, it seemed, as a cloud of black consumed her. She frantically fanned at it and coughed against the smokey billows in her throat.

When the smoke cleared, she was left gazing up at the sky. Thousands of stars bit behind a vast glass ceiling and the moon spared its signature half smile. The same moon inset on her captor’s crown and boots.

She lowered her gaze to the room before her. White strokes of moonlight lined the walls, illuminating the eerie guards that lined them. A silver-stone throne occupied a dais. It was archaic, bare; like the throne of a medieval King.

Still attached to the stranger, she glanced up at him. From this angle, the stone-like set of his chin  was upturned, fastened on something above. Then, he lowered his sights to her. His dark brows rose above black eyes.

She winced in his arms and used her elbows to detach herself. When proven unsuccessful, she huffed up at him. She took great care to avoid his eyes.

“If you please, release me now,” she commanded, voice sharper than intended.

“Though it seldom pleases to release such an angel, I shall oblige, fallen one.”

The arms around her dropped, and he dared a step backward. His eyes – still devoured in black – quivered closed. He breathed once, twice – then reopened them to reveal warm, golden pools.

“You know, the ‘fallen one’ bit is growing old,” she said. “Sitting on a stable floor hardly qualifies an enduring moniker.”

He chuckled. It was ghostly, subtle – an invisible laugh with indiscernible sound. If not for his rumbling chest and roguish smile, one would’ve missed it.

“Not when it fits your situation so perfectly. Once, you were above in Alasia with sun and solace, with room to spread your wings. Now? You must thrive below, in the depth of night. You, angel, have fallen.”

She squinted through the night-filled windows. Surely he wasn’t implying they were underground?

She crossed her arms, fixed him with a searing stare.

“That’s impossible.”

“Is it?” He drew his arms behind his back, gestured a hand toward the ceiling. “Do not let the moon and stars fool you – we exist beneath the worlds, including that of your little Alasia. Living here is our sacrifice and solace. It is our… gift to humanity.”

A low rumble raked through the guards like electricity. Glowing eyes sought her escort, mirth pulsing within.

Fists bundled at her sides.

“But that doesn’t make sense. You can’t have a galaxy underground. By the laws of nature, you’d have dirt and roots and decay.” The bottomless black pits of his eyes flashed in her mind. She craned her neck to fixate on him, squinted. “You’re not…. Dead, are you?”

Another rumble from the guards. She turned her glare toward them.

He whirled toward her in a shifting of lilac. He blurred, until his golden eyes trapped hers.

“Do I look dead, fallen one?”

She shook her head. “But your eyes, and the moon –”

“All essence of magic. My kind – we’re the byproduct of witches and vampires. Living and dead; magical and immortal. We are the ancient ones, the forbidden ones. We live below to restore balance, though it wasn’t always so.”

Analise inched closer, eyes wide with child-like curiosity.

“Our kind is unique,” he continued. “We exist on the lifeblood of others. Mainly witches, though humans can volunteer. It’s rare, as we’ve been below for millennia, but random sacrifices aren’t uncommon. Our blood – it restores. It can heal the sick, seal wounds. It’s also provides us with inhuman strength.”

“And magic?” Analise guessed, eyes still wide.

“Some of us, yes. Our species has two races – those with magic, and those without. Those of royal lineage were created by a union of witch and vampire. Others, like the majority of the guard – “ he gestured around him loosely. “ – were resurrected by other vampires.”

“Union meaning…” She made a lewd hand gesture, which prompted another silent bout of laughter.

“Pleasures of the flesh. You’re familiar with this, yes? When two individuals – a witch and a vampire, in our cases – seek to fulfill their passions, the result is a powerful hybrid.”

His eyes seemed to smolder as he dared a step closer. Analise’s cheeks swelled with heat. She pressed a hand to her chest, seeking to quell the its rapid thump-thumping. He grinned as she looked away to clear her throat.

“I’m to assume that you’re royalty?” At his nod, she continued: “And you govern the … underground? Which is where we currently are – under Alasia – but vampires used to roam above?”

“My brilliant, brilliant little angel,” he cooed softly. The compliment was like a caress: it bundled around her neck, settled around her shoulders and radiated warmth. “So many questions. Perhaps, we should address them in comfort?”

His eyes roamed to the set of thrones at the front of the room. Analise shook her head, tilted her chin toward the sky.

“I’d prefer we finish here, where we’re equals.”

A grunt escaped his lips – something tasting for amusement and derision. Nevertheless, he nodded and continued: “Our people settled below for centuries, but one day a portal was discovered. It enabled us to travel between worlds on certain days. When we first arrived above, humans thought we were Gods, delivered to Earth to rule. So, we did. With our heightened senses and lust, we were weapons. Our people gained influence in human circles quickly. Eventually, we became such a threat, that little kingdoms began persecuting us. Little kingdoms like your beloved Alasia.”

“Did vampires ever rule Alasia?” the words weigh on her tongue – tingled like something exotic, foreign – and sent the wheels in her head turning.

“No, but our brother did attempt a coup,” he stated, lips pursed in contemplation. “Not Lucian, of course – you made his acquaintance earlier – but Maximoff, the mutton. He sensed a civil unrest in the witches of Alasia, and attempted to sway them. Witches were abused, which is the reason such a war began.”

“But how did it end? What caused vampires to leave?,” she asked.

“Human loss was too great,” Cassian said, voice stiff. “So, our kind called a truce. Alasians knew there was a land below, and negotiated our people to return there. In exchange for us leaving – and ceasing to meddle in human affairs – an enchantment was cast. One that involved the sharing of our sun and moon. Our moons would remain separate, but our sun must be shared. We needed it below just long enough to nourish the lands of replenish the strength of our power.”

“It was a mutual treaty,” he said. “Our kind – and others, like witches – withdrew below. Our underground world was divided into 8 provinces and renamed kingdom Inferion. The sun visited us thrice a year, which allowed ample time to harvest our crops and maintain our lands. It was quickly thought, however, that vampires were given too harsh a deal. Isolating ourselves placed the weight of reproduction on witches.”

“Witches became our queens,” he continued. “They reproduced royally and domestically. After conception, it’s impossible for a witch to achieve immortality. So, our species was limited. For all the ravenous urges our species were given; our labors were fruitless. Children and partners are needed for power, just like Alasia. Our people returned to Alasia to negotiate new terms.”

“You needed witches,” she supplied.

He nodded.

“Specifically, one worthy of royal reproduction. We found that in Queen Ingrid of Alasia. She hailed from a powerful lineage and her ancestors aided in the original enchantment of Inferion’s portal. It’s a rare thing – successful witch lineages. Witches tend to skip generations when bred with humans.” He uttered ‘humans’ as though he had mutton stuck in his teeth. He seemed to fling it in the air, imperial nose scrunched. “Our people demanded Ingrid, who was very much wed and unwilling to depart Alasia, breed. When that offer was refused, another war loomed. Until Ingrid and Alasia brokered a ceasefire: the next daughter gifted with magic would be delivered to Inferion upon her birth. She’d be raised below, but allowed visitation between worlds. Upon her 18th birthday, she would be wed to Inferion’s king and deliver solace to all. She would be powerful, bold – a new revolution for witches.”

“Over the years, the few witches remaining above became viziers. They blended into councils, advised kings. And it was a witch who told us of Alasia’s next great witch – a daughter with hair of flame.”

Analise flinched as she reached up to caress her hair. It was cliché, gauche – but it was also symbolic. Symbolic of a lie; hidden truths and destiny. Suddenly, it all became clear: the complacency, the restrictions.

“My parents chose to hide me,” she whispered. Her eyes met his. “Hiding me caused Alasia’s destruction? But how did they even know I was magical. I never… ‘wielded’ magic.”

A wistful smile whipped across his lips.

“Upon your birth, your hair glowed. It’s the sign of all great witches,” he said. “Your parents commanded a band of rogue witches to destroy the portal between our worlds. In doing so, our sun never returned. Both kingdoms suffer, though some more than others.” The man shook his head. “This will soon be a non-issue. Your ancestor’s wrongs shall soon be corrected, and you shall be free. Free to choose, and live, and flourish – free from Alasia, at last.”

“Corrected?” She choked out a dry laugh. “Your solution is corralling me into a marriage, which is hardly better than home.”

“Ah, but marriage is merely one element of the equation,” he purred. He ventured forward, each step calculated and measured as a predator seeding its prey. He stopped before her, brought the back of his hand to trail her soft cheeks. Small icicles bloomed in his wake, prompted a shiver down her spine.

He continued to droop his hand – down her chin, her neck, down the side of her body – until he paused. His hand moved softly to her lower stomach, inched lower to cover her front. He caressed her, squeezed her, his long, supine fingers trailing her thigh.

“Are you ready to service your new king, fallen one?”

She inhaled a shaky breath, braced her hands against his chest. “Service you? I don’t even know you. Not your name, nor your title.”

“King Cassian of Inferion,” he whispered, cool lips tickling her ear. “You’ll remember it soon, as you’re screaming my name.”

“How dare you,” she gasped and used her hands to propel from his chest. He followed her, looming presence stuck to her essence like shadow. She allowed him to get close enough – his lips a breath away – and raised her hand to his face. She imagined its impact against his skin; the smattering of pink against his cool, pale cheek.

A shattering sound filled the room as she slapped him, like glass breaking.

He released her in shock, pale hand caressing his skin. Analise stood triumphant, red swirls weaved between her fingertips.