Blood By Candle-Light

Chapter Six: Death of Queen Mother

Florencia Tremadia – Bunker/Iris Creek

Twilight

Darkness, decay, and desperation filled the voids of the bunker. After sending the majority of the pack members unintentionally to their deaths, Neilda had enough. She clenched her hands into fists, scanning around, and found only the skeletons of her pack sisters and her sleeping daughter. 

She groaned in anguish, then marched over to wake Thrimina. 

“Wake up,” she said in a hushed tone. “We need to leave.”

“But how?,” Thrimina yawned. Her disheveled hair and facial scars were enough for Neilda to bawl into the crook of Thrimina’s neck.

“I don’t know.” Letting out a heavy sigh, Neilda drew back and clasped her hands on either side of Thrimina’s heart-shaped face. “Promise me, that no matter what happens, that you don’t look back.”

“But, what if–”

“Promise me!” Tears rolled off her chin, creating an uncomfortable silence between them. 

Thrimina reluctantly agreed, knowing well that this would be the last night they stayed together. 

Before Neilda opened the trap door, she handed Thrimina a sealed scroll. Thrimina grabbed it, looking confused, but shook off her worries as they went into survival mode. 

Neilda shifted into her feathered-fox, Aine. The shades of yellow glowed as if the sun consumed all the darkness within the bunker. Black feathers sprung out, with a cocoa brown stencil of the blazing sun that appeared on its forehead. The creature had flamy designs from the paws up each leg in different shades of red and black. 

Thrimina gazed in awe of her mother’s transformation but knew that she couldn’t savor this moment for long. Thrimina tried to shift but was too weak, so Neilda’s beast motioned Thrimina to ride on her back. 

Thrimina climbed on her back, huffing from the work it took to secure herself properly. With that, Aine broke through the trapdoor with one swoop of her paw and charged toward the entryway of the hall leading toward the garden. 

An arrow shot past them as they neared their destination. Thrimina turned back to see a small figure with a bow and arrow, but couldn’t make out the features. She looked up above and spotted another figure crouching on one of the beams holding the building together. Its golden eyes pierced the darkness, leaving Thrimina frightened for both her and Aine’s safety.

Another arrow ripped through the air, puncturing through Aine’s thigh as she leaped through the doorway. They crashed into the grass, Thrimina tumbling forward until she was three feet away from the lake. Aine was still a few feet away from the door, but quickly got up and raced toward Thrimina.

The figure with the bow and arrow ran out the door, chasing after Aine. Thrimina tried shifting but it was no use. She, however, felt the presence of her mother’s spirit. A dragon lily floated toward them and Thrimina gently cupped her hands around the floating flower. Thrimina looked down at her reflection, seeing that her mother was right beside her. 

Nodding her head, Thrimina dashed into the woods making her way toward the border, never looking back.

***

Rania Shutpa’s POV

I pluck another arrow from my quiver, drawing back my string. Blueberry orbs ravage their gaze upon me, ready to strike. As I release the bow, the beast before me swipes at the shaft, snapping the entire arrow in half. 

I freeze for a moment, calculating my next move, but I’m too slow. It clenches down on my calf and drags me toward the lake. All my attempts to kick its snout remain futile to its tightening grip. I resort to whistling at an ear-piercing note, which sends Augustus flying out of the building toward us. With his help, I’ll be sure of two things: One, I’ll have a new set of fur, and two, the b***h paying me gets the blood.

Augustus shreds through the beast’s fur, snapping its neck in half as he pries its jaws from my now bleeding calf. I dash back toward the door I exited moments prior, to bind my wounds. The feathered animal did a number on my poor skin. The punctures were an inch deep but manageable under these tense circumstances. 

No! I look over to Augustus pulverizing my prize. Blood is coating the yellow fur around its belly. There goes my rare collective piece.

I stand, wobbling side to side maintaining my balance. I meticulously cross the lengthy strands of grass to give that mangy vampire a piece of my mind. 

“Augustus, you vile bastard!” I yell at him, my face streaking with fiery rage. 

“Look at what you’ve done.”

“I saved your life,” he responds, smirking as thick, rustic, metallic blood streams from the corners of his mouth. 

I roll my eyes in disgust, now focusing on the fur I need to skin. I make work from the open wound of the beast’s abdomen, carefully peeling back fur as I use my skinning knife to separate the meat from the hide. The amount of fur here is wasted, I think to myself. What will I do now? After all the work I’ve done to salvage fur and feathers untouched by splotches of golden blood, I have enough to make clothing out of. I roll the hide and secure it to my waist for later. I look up in the mossy grey sky that covers the decadence of the moon and her stars’ brilliant light, then let out an elongating sigh. 

My ears perk as I feel the ground tremble below me. I turn to face the fortress, watching the structure’s surface crack from the earth toward the sky. It crumbles, forming dust clouds, with debris flinging in every direction. I get down on all fours and hang my head low, covering my neck with my hands. 

Several minutes go by and Augustus approaches me, calmly tapping my shoulders. I look directly at him, his eyes glazing over with a neutral tone. They were no longer burning like fire. 

“Did you get all of them?” a woman asks, her voice carrying over from the same area of the demolished building. It’s Lady Bulna of the Trillis Coven. 

Shit. She’s wearing her mask. She’s never worn a facial covering around me before. 

“As you can see,” Augustus starts, “the last of the feathery brutes are no more.” He strides forward with open arms, but stops halfway, dropping them to his sides. “Happy?”

“Do shut up, pet! I wasn’t asking you.” Lady Bulna unties the ribbons holding the mask in place, then chucks it to this side. With a snap of her finger, she vanishes, then reappears in front of me. 

I kneel unintentionally, but I’m grateful to not have to look directly into her sunken eyes. Watching her crouch over our last kill, her body relaxes as she lifts the head of the beast. Her fingers brush over the sun insignia that graces its forehead. 

“There’s one more.” Her head snaps toward the forest, then she turns to me, anger crawling over her desert-planed face. 

I c**k a smile, then respond, “Whatever do you mean, ‘One more'?” 

***

Augustus Shetherport’s POV

Leading up to the aftermath.

What meaning do I have if I cannot see Thrimina again? 

Every time I dream of the feathered-fox hybrid, I question why I go along with my master’s cruel plans. I think back to when Lady Bulna transformed me into becoming her personal slave, feeding on the flesh of her enemies. It is all how it shouldn’t be.

Over the course of two months, I have grown rather fond of being in a fantastical world of slumber with Thrimina by my side. That is to say, if it truly is her name. It’s rather odd that it started so suddenly. Unlike the murderous harlot who only uses me for personal gratification and torture, Thrimina’s touch and voice lift my spirits. She makes me feel safe. Loved. 

The last thing I told her before she escaped my dream was my demon intervening. He’s always there, lurking about, craving blood. There’s nothing I can do now.

I leave the room and see a woman sneak through the hall toward me. Her tribal gold markings and hide-covered body indicate that she’s here on behalf of Lady Bulna. 

She refers to herself as Rania Shutpa, daughter of Tanti Delgo and Verha Shutpa. Apparently, she comes from a long line of prestigious warriors who conquered multiple territories of werewolves. I highly doubt it, considering she’s bartering with a witch in exchange for coin and fur. Even werewolves are unlikely, considering this region lacks historical research and sightings of such creatures. However, it’s not my business, I have little care for her personal triumphs and strifes. 

 “I see that you’ve saved some hybrids for me,” she jests, placing her boot on a peacock-spotted feathered-fox... my most recent kill. 

“There’s plenty more that I’ve skinned just for you.” I point to a heap of colorful hides stacked neatly next to the door I came out of. 

“How generous. Maybe I should reward you.” She gives me a wink before kneeling in front of the creature. She pulls out a curved knife and begins creating an incision from the anus. 

I walk around her, glancing over to see her process. “Aren’t you supposed to hang the animal from its hind legs first?” I ask her.

“Does it look like I care how it's properly done?” she responds, with a tinge of annoyance in her voice. 

“I’m just curious because there’s a proven way to butcher animals–”

“I do it this way as a form of respect for the dead.”

“By stripping them of their fur?”

Rania swiftly turns around, the knife’s blade kissing my neck. “I’d gladly tie you with rope and pierce you with Petrine's nails. I’d expose you from navel to nose and laugh as I hook this skinning knife through your rectum, gutting you until there’s nothing left.” 

As uncomfortable and compromising my position is, I let out a slight chuckle, gently pushing her hand away from me. “I understand you have disdain for me, but my dear, I’m not your enemy.”

She sighs, processing her actions, and without saying another word, continues to skin the beast. 

I look up at the rafters, noticing weird inscriptions in each beam. I fly up onto one of the posts and begin studying them. The symbols and markings remind me of Lady Bulna’s mask... the night of my masquerade. What do they mean? I’m ashamed that I didn’t take linguistics as seriously as the rest of my family. They always told me that it would prove useful one day. Turns out, they were right. 

I think about my dreams with Thrimina. Maybe–

My thoughts are cut off as I hear a crash in the room down the hall. I hop across the beams to investigate the rather boisterous scene. It seems that the last of the hybrids decided to escape, as I see a brilliant yellow dash from the room. Atop its back is the hybrid of my dreams. She appears more pale and thin, unlike the visions I had of her. I take pity on her, of course, then look back at Rania, whose bow and arrow are at the ready. 

Her first release is a miss and I silently cheer for the two escaping. She releases a second arrow that unfortunately penetrates the feathered-fox’s thigh as it leaps out the door leading to the garden. 

“Why didn’t you stop them?” Rania asks racing over to the door, plucking an arrow from her quiver.

I shrug my shoulders and give her a debonair smile. “Where’s the excitement of giving chase to powerful beasts, when you can do it respectfully, yourself?” I don’t bother to register her reaction, I wait for what seems an eternity within this fortress of solitude. I advance into the room the two left from, making sure there aren't any bodies left. Decay and pungent odors of fecal matter and urine assault my nostrils as I enter the hidden room below ground. Bones and rotting corpses litter the ground. 

In tears, I rush out and vomit a bit of blood on the floor. I look down and notice it’s metallic amethyst. A mixture between human and feathered-fox blood. There’s something otré and remarkable. 

Then a whistle sounds from outside the fortress. Something’s wrong. I race out the door, ascending above Rania to grasp at the beast’s throat. I unhinge its jaw from Rania’s leg, as I flip over, then snap its neck, instantly killing it. 

For a moment, I think about what Rania said earlier about respecting these kills. I bring this yellow beast’s head to mine, kissing the sun imprinted on the forehead. Before Rania could see what I’ve done, I tear through its fur and begin feasting upon it. 

“Augustus, you vile bastard!” Rania shouts as she trudges toward me. “Look at what you’ve done.”

I unlatch from my meal and look over at her with a wide smile. “I saved your life.” I can feel blood dripping from the corners of my mouth, as I had not finished swallowing the last of the beast’s blood. 

The earth quakes as I watch the lake beyond us ripple like wildfire. She’s here. I then turn to face a fortress collapsing to smoke.

***

Lady Bulna Trillis’s POV

I teleport from a musty, mossy cave within the human realm of Shimfaire, and wind up in a long hallway of a fortress. I look above me, seeing markings similar to those of my coven and smirk. Do these heathens think they could take what rightfully belonged to me?  I quietly chant a demolishing spell that’s engraved on the beam above, and watch as it splits in two. 

I cackle as the structure crumbles around me, and before the dust settles, I change my composure. The feeling of finally obtaining my powers is so close, yet something feels off.

As I brush through the debris and soft grass, I see both Augustus and Rania standing next to a dead feathered-fox, both in pure shock. 

“Did you get all of them?” I ask, my voice rather projected and stern. Both glance at me, sensing tension and unwillingness to speak.

Then Augustus musters a smile, his eyes dull, unlike every other encounter where they’ve gleaned in my presence. No matter the curse I expelled upon him to lustfully engage me, there’s something here, helping him counter it.

“As you can see, the last of the feathery brutes are no more.” Augustus approaches me halfway with open arms. Then suddenly, his smile dwindles to a bitter frown. “Happy?”

Annoyed with his presence, I look past him and spy Rania, who looks away from me with sweat dripping down her forehead. I send a deathly glare toward Augustus. “Do shut up, pet! I wasn’t asking you,” I spit as I untangle the ribbons to my mask. I spy Augustus almost gagging at the sight of my distorted face, so I snap my fingers to transport myself next to Rania. 

As I generate before her, she kneels and sudden warmth develops in my chest. Though both of them revolt and turn away from me, at least Rania is courteous and graceful in doing so.

Curse these spells! I think to myself. My coven and I are outcasts within the magick community. The O’Twanïka Realm, my realm, just had to banish and send us to this wretched, hogwash human world when they put a stop to what they deemed “atrocious and unethical.” I guess slaughtering a homunculus or two was not in the cards for them. 

Then I think about the Shetheroport Coven. Rivals from my homeworld... How perfect they were to never cripple in beauty, but to live lavishly amongst the Dynaste de La Lune de Minuit and not waste away like rancid corpse flowers.

My eyes snap down to the butchered beast. Rivulets of gold embark from the open wounds and gashes of the patchy sun-colored hybrid. Augustus must have killed this one. Pity. This one appears to be the pack’s queen. 

I crouch next to its corpse, examining the sun emblem. Not many of the hybrids have markings on their foreheads, but I’ve heard that their elites bore magickally concentrated markings used by the members of my coven. The members they sought after, killed, and consumed. My blood boils over these cruel memories. Feeling my heart crack from each witch and warlock to grace such powers. 

Tears swell as I lift the head of the feathered-fox, my fingers brushing across the insignia. My sister, Helaine, always drew power from the sun. She was the first to perish after meeting this beast all those years ago. I would give anything to have her back. 

Just as I place the head back on the grass, shimmering silver strands of hair float past me. They were nearly invisible, blending in with the reflection of the moon on the lake. I look toward the forest, breathing in heavily a strange and aromatic scent. Impossible. 

“There’s one more,” I say, my eyes cold and fixated on the hair strands that trail through the leaves and bushes.

“Whatever do you mean, ‘One more’?” Rania asks. 

I leer her way and she immediately looks to the ground. I saunter toward Rania, avoiding her sarcastic remark. 

My lips curl to a wicked smile, my words seething between gaps of rigid teeth. “The queen is no more, but her precious princess escaped.”

Rania jerks her head upward with eyes gazing with incredulity. I begin cackling hysterically, sending shivers down my spine and waves of fear in Rania’s eyes. 

“Agustus,” I screech, “find her. I want this one alive!”

He trudges forward, his head down as though he lost a battle. He briefly looks up, earning a scowl from me. With that, he leaps into the air, grasping firmly onto a branch near the treetop, advancing through the wooded area. 

Rania shuffles uncomfortably toward the feathered-fox I examined just moments ago. An idea formulated.

“You will follow him,” I command. 

A scoff escapes her. “Why? He will kill her.”

“I suppose coin is an issue?”

“Coin is not the problem. He is.”

My eyes dart between the grass and the glistening lake. I may have overestimated Augustus and his ability to keep targets alive. It is the gifted curse that he must bear, as I thought it was fitting at the time of his masqué.

“I realize that you do not enjoy his company,” I begin. “But I gave him the ability to track them, and I need you to monitor his… behavior.”

“What?” she hisses. “Have you gone mad? You don’t pay me enough to babysit an ass!” 

I roll my eyes and let out a gentle chuckle. Of course, it’s about money. “I’ll pay you six times the amount you’ve been collecting from our previous arrangement.”

Her jaw nearly drops from my offer. 

Perfect.

“Six times? How do I know you’re not bluffing?”

I snap my fingers, and two coin purses appear. “This is just the down payment. Not only will you watch him, but you will also take down and break the b***h if he fails.”

Rania gulps and a light sweat births from her forehead. 

“Do we have a deal?”

She nods but hesitates to grasp the purses floating before her. With a motion of my hand, they glide past her, and into the pockets of space in her rolled-up furs.

She kneels, hacking away at the beast’s carcass.

“I’ll leave before dawn.”

I snap my fingers, leaving a blast of purple smoke behind me.

***