Ignoring the feeling she had, Violet continued on her path.
"Wow. Did you see that Monica?" Gerald asked as he slid down the boulder. Monica was distracted. She knew of the Red Rage, formerly a Red Mage who'd advanced in power, strength and intellect. Everyone knew of her first ever battle with the Giant of Sou, a great beast that reveled in the pain of his victims. She was only a teenager then, but she beat so many in the Infinite Realm.
Starting as a Nirvana at twelve, people watched in admiration, some envy, as she continuously progressed to the Luna realm then the Goa, then Omiton (Which has three denominations, Rip, Riot and Cage) then finally, the Mystic which also has three denominations– Page, Mage and Rage (the highest realms).
Violet was the only Rage Level god to still be in the midst of the Starred. People who have no gift in Slay or Intellect. They were just Aides to those who were blessed, bearing birthmarks to signify who they belonged to. Birthmarks that'll take a certain color when they were found by their Master who must have broken through to Omiton. The mark was a bond, an indefinite seal of loyalty between Master and Aide. This means that all Stars act mostly on Instinct. They share the life force of their master, intermittently becoming clones when necessary.
Till today, no one knows who she really is or where she came from. Violet is still the only god without an Aide. It was practically impossible to break through the Omiton without the help of an Aide, but Violet proved that theory wrong by breaking through only a year later. What took many strong level Goas years to achieve even with their faithful Aides. At sixteen, she was a Mystic at Page level. It had never been heard of.
Her reputation brought her fame on so many levels, both Good and Bad. She'd been targeted for her Zin– the life force of any god. Fighting her way through an entire army lead to her breakthrough as a Mage. At only seventeen, she was feared, loved and admired. She was also hated, scorned and isolated. Many were too afraid of her to accept her, too intimidated to let her close.
Her hidden identity only did more harm. There was a rumor that her reason for still being among the Starred was a mission. No one knew what that mission was.
"Monica!"
Gerald's voice called her back from her musings. She looked down to find him staring up with furrowed brows.
"Are you going to keep staring after her? If not, come down let's get out of here. I don't want to risk those things coming back."
Monica climbed down, being careful not to be scraped by the hard bark of the tree.
"You should have thought about that when leading us to your death." She chided, lifting her skirt and lightly flinging it to get rid of some dirt.
"I'm sorry. I just wanted to play with the cute one. Too bad they don't want me to. What were you thinking about anyway?" Gerald asked as he gently nudged her towards the exit. Monicas' eyes glanced to the path Violet had taken, feeling a pull at her chest. She hadn't been able to gather her thoughts since looking into those bright violet eyes. There was something about Violet that called to her, or was she just fantasizing as she always does?
In a room filled with able bodied men, one petite figure stood out, her red glinting among the fiery glows of bright candles. Violet watched, arms folded as her loyal men (gods in lower denominations that submitted to her) talked on strategy for the next mission. A large parchment paper rested open on the table coined from dark wood while they formed a circle around it. Her eyes dropped to the map, searching through the inks and words of latitudes and longitudes.
"That is too risky. We haven't even made sure this information isn't false." A man spoke.
"We have. Our spies saw her. Not only that, we've confirmed the truth of the matter. These people were the ones who raided Solitzen years ago, same date with the raid on Violet's home. They had taken many of the young females captive and done away with the males." Another spoke
"It still doesn't guarantee anything. We might be walking straight into a trap. I believe we should think this through." Another spoke, backing up the first speaker.
"And what? Let the only chance of Violet rescuing her sister just pass us by? When did you all become cowards? We've been planning and waiting for this day. We have all evidence that speaks of the captivity of Little Sol. All of them point to the King Lenard." The second speaker came in again.
"Evidence can be falsified!" The first speaker exclaimed.
"And so can your spine." Replied the second speaker.
"Watch your tongue."
"Enough!" A voice boomed. Matyk glared at the men behaving like children. His black eyes like a vultures'– intense and chilling. The scar sitting above his right eye enhanced his rogue-like physique– he was easily the tallest and largest man in the room. A black band tied to his forehead, his bald head visible.
"I say we re-strategize and not underestimate anyone. Lenard is known for his ruthlessness and cruelty. He shouldn't even be breathing." Speaker one spoke again. Calm and collected
"I agree with the latter statement. But the life of Little Sol is more important than his death. Killing him means burying whatever information there is on his captives. There is no doubt that she is a part of them."
Silence encompassed the room as all eyes fell on Violet. Her eyes had never once moved from that sheet on the table.
"We leave at dawn." She said and walked off, Matyk leaving with her.
The fire crinkled and danced, it's flames reflecting in the eyes of Violet as she watched. She was alone, in her room, left to the musings of her mind.
It was a peaceful night, she'd been with Little Sol, tucking her in when the first explosion sounded. Little Sol had jerked up, crying. Violet had quickly, rushed to the window, and nearly collapsed at the sight. An Army! It was a takeover.
She'd quickly strapped six months old crying Sol to her back with a clothe and rushed to take the secret way. Nook had found her, together they fled. But luck wasn't on their side. She remembered! With every bit of her.
Violets' hand turned to fist as she recalled Sol being ripped from her back, Nook had been taken too. She'd also been led to a carriage with many others but she'd escaped. She'd escaped and gone to look for her little one. Her Sol.
She'd come too late. Sol was handed over to a man, who observed her like a mere object and then he gave her to a young woman who'd tried soothing her. Violet remembered the anguish and despair she'd felt as she watched her sister, the only family she had left, being taken away. She'd chased after the carriage with her two little legs. Her eyes had blurred with tears the farther they got away from her. She remembered tripping over a rock and tumbling into the bushes. She remembered loosing her whole family at only ten.
A hand on her shoulder brought her to the present. She turned to face Matyk.
"Are you sure of what we are about to do?" He asked her.
Violet ignored him, eyes watching the flames with rapt attention because truth was, she wasn't sure. But it's been eighteen years! She had planned and worked for this day. Risking her life again and again all for this. Now, she wasn't helpless and weak. She had all the resources she needed to claim victory.
"I saw someone." She spoke after minutes of silence. Matyk kept quiet, willing her to continue.
"She had the palest skin with blue eyes. Something about her drew me in." Blue eyes like Little Sol's, she thought.
"What did you feel?"
"A slight tingle in my spine."
The tension from Matyk had her turning her head to look up at him.
"What?" She asked
"She's your Aide."
"Impossible." She shook her head, "I can't have one at this level. Never happened."
"But no one expected you to ever be here without an Aide. Yet look at you. I've learned that with you, things are different."
"Not this time. Besides, the last thing I want is to rope an innocent soul into my bloody life."
"Your majesty. It worked. You'll have Violet, come tomorrow evening." A feminine voice coquettishly told the man who sat in the tub with his eyes closed. His white hair fanned out beneath him in the water, his ripped pecs and abdominals visible in the crystal clear water with petals in it.
A wicked grin broke on his face, his eyelids opening to reveal pure white sclera.
"Strip." He told the young woman, who didn't hesitate to obey.
Monica let the towel drop after she'd dried herself. Walking to the dresser, she picked up a short blue ordinary looking dress. It was her nightgown. Just as she moved to put it on, a faint glow coming from her waist line halted her.
"What now?" She hissed at the large mark that sat there.
She'd given up being an Aide since she'd turned eighteen few days ago. She has to be the only person with no master. Even Gerald was an Aide, which meant he was gone days– sometimes Months– at a time. Of course he liked her singular nature because according to him, he didn't have to be worried out of his mind. But she wanted to be an Aide too. The bland looking ball mark on her waist with two strings criss crossing only glowed once a while. If she really had a master, she would have been found by now. But she wasn't.
Putting on her gown, she tucked herself in bed, violet eyes and ruby lips the last thing she sees before drifting off to dreamland.
to be continued...
Image Sources: Darksouls1 from Pixabay, Darksouls1 from Pixabay edited by @tengolotodo using pixlr and Canva
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