“I gave them two weeks to work things out,” Sithias said as he >looked along the vast dimension full of nothing. It was a neutral place for gods to meet, where nothing could be harmed if a fight broke out.
“Why? I ordered her and I expect my orders to be followed immediately,” Daemionis asked.
“Alric fears for her life. You know as well as I do that she’s seen nothing good come out of marriage. She’s terrified from what she grew up with.”
“I don’t care… an order is an order.”
“Let Alric do what he can. You are to blame for this,” Sithias told him. His white battle tunic was in stark contrast to the green scaly demon standing across from him.
“Why should I? She is mine, and I told her to do something… Why are you blaming me anyway?”
“You know what she fears! If you had let her learn as she grew, she wouldn’t be terrified of the unknown.”
“I didn’t want her to know. The second she finds a mate she’ll change.”
“So why let her now?”
“She’s changing anyway. Since she turned 17, she’s started getting lonely, and it’s getting in the way of her missions.”
“That’s the only reason?”
“Yes”
Sithias shook his head, “Well that’s stupid.”
“I don’t want to wait two weeks,” Daemionis said, growling slightly.
“You can either wait two weeks and let Alric calm her down, or you may have a dead bride on your hands.”
“She has a mercy killer already?”
“No! She plans on doing it herself.”
Daemionis smiled evilly, “Yes, the girl would do that, wouldn’t she.”
“I know she would. Alric isn’t going to let her out of his sight. Now you take the blame for this and leave them alone for two weeks.”
“I won’t! It was Creteloc’s idea to keep her from finding carnal pleasures. It’s worked too. Kyrin is as loyal as they come.”
“That has nothing to do with denying her knowledge. She’s a lawful evil, and you know it.”
He nodded, “Yes, I do. It’s part of why I keep her around.”
“You keep her around to use her magic for your benefit.”
“That too.”
“Two weeks.”
Daemionis nodded, “Fine. But if she kills herself, I get her, even if she’s in your dimension.”
“Very well.”
***
“Lord Alric just thought that we could help you,” the young woman said. She glanced at her friend, and then over to Kyrin, who was sitting in the bay window in the castle’s library.
“I’ve been married for eight years, to Rovald,” the other woman said. “Happily married. We met at the summer festival and have two beautiful daughters.”
Kyrin was getting sick. Alric had been watching her like a hawk for three days, and she got no time to herself to think. Now she was stuck in the library with two sniveling women who gushed about their husbands and children. She wanted nothing to do with the entire thing and if given the chance, would just end it.
She knew that preparations were being made for the wedding, even though she still swore it wasn’t going to happen. She hadn’t heard from Sithias or Daemionis and had plans formed on how to end her life without being stopped.
“You can ask us questions, anything you like,” the first told her. “No men are around so we can tell you anything.”
“I don’t want to know anything about marriage in this bloody place,” Kyrin snapped at her, though she kept looking out the window.
“What do you mean in this place?”
Kyrin shrugged.
“Plus, you get to marry the King! He’s handsome, and kind, and you are just too lucky.”
Kyrin saw it shimmer through the window, and her eyes grew wide. A portal key was sitting on the grass not 100 yards from the library window, three floors below it. Sithias must have slipped out of the dimension, and his influence faded enough a natural portal had emerged.
Her heart raced. She had to get to it before it disappeared. As the women behind her spoke about their perfect marriages, Kyrin slid the window open and looked down on the grass, far below.
“Are you hot?” the first woman asked her.
“It is stuffy in the library.”
Both gasped when Kyrin slid out the window and disappeared. They ran to it and looked down as Kyrin hit the ground and started to run. Two Knights had seen her and were in hot pursuit. Her boots of speed were locked up, so she was using human speed.
“Stop!” one of them shouted.
Kyrin had twisted an ankle on the long fall, and wasn’t able to move as fast as she wanted, though the portal key still seemed solid. The Knights were gaining and now others had joined. They had strict orders to watch her and stop her if she began to disappear, though they didn’t quite know what that meant.
The first one that reached her grabbed her arm, just as she reached down to take a locket from the ground. She spun and tried to hit his neck, but his other hand blocked her and grabbed her wrist.
She dropped suddenly, throwing him forward, and he rolled over her and landed at the base of the invisible portal. When she scrambled to her feet, another Knight grabbed her from behind and locked his hands around her at her waist.
“Stop fighting us,” he said, starting back for the castle. “King Alric said you aren’t to be alone out of the castle.”
No matter how hard she fought, she couldn’t get free, and he had her hands trapped at her sides. Alric had taken her flail and locked it in the weapon’s room, so all she had was magic. While she could easily best most men in a fight, Alric’s seasoned Knights were well trained and heavily buffed. They all had rippling muscles and broad, thick shoulders and necks.
“What happened?” Trox asked, coming out to meet them.
“She jumped out of the library window,” the Knight said, and put her down. As was instructed by Alric, the Knight at each side of her each took a hand to keep them apart.
“Did you injure yourself?” Trox asked, looking her over.
“No”
“She’s limping slightly,” the Knight told him.
“King Alric is busy right now. I will watch her,” Trox said, and Cstarted back inside. The Knights forced Kyrin to follow, and only let go when they were both in Trox’s room.
Kyrin looked around at the boiling caldrons and steaming pots in his room.
“Interested?” Trox asked, seeing her eye a green bubbling potion.
She tried to sound mad, but was suddenly curious, “What is it?”
“That’s a truth serum,” he said, walking over to her. He pointed to the others, “I’m trying to make a healing potion, but right now all it does is get rid of warts.”
She couldn’t help but smile, “Are you serious?”
“Why, yes, I am.” He looked at her over his moon-shaped spectacles, and his eyes twinkled. She’d never liked him, but realized she didn’t have any reason not to.
“What’s in it?” she asked, bending to take a closer look.
“Chervil, Knotgrass, and Belladonna.”
“I don’t know what those are. Can I see them?”
“Sure,” Trox said, and then dug around in a large cabinet. He came back with three bottles, and she looked at them.
She thought for a moment, “Have you added the blood from a dying man?”
“No, why would I?”
“Add some of the green leaves with red veins, and I’ll be right back,” she said, and ran out of his room. Once he saw she had Knights with her, he did as she asked and watched the potion go from green to almost pink, “Curious.”
Kyrin came back in, and Trox was sure she looked happier than she had in weeks, “Just a drop, this stuff is hard to come by.”
“It’s hard to come by blood from a dying man?”
“He has to be dying, so you get the blood and kill him. Then it works,” she said, unstopping a vial.
He watched her, “So where did you get it?”
She ignored him and put one tiny drop of blood into the pot. Once it started to bubble and swirls of color swarmed up into the smoke, she stepped back, as did Trox.
When it stopped boiling, she stepped forward and smelled it, “Done.”
“That’s it?” he asked, looking into the pot.
“Of course. So why learn potions?”
“They come in handy. I’d like to be able to send healing potions with the Knights, for instance. However, the potion making left with the…,” Trox looked at her with wide eyes, “magic users.”
“Has nothing to do with magic. You just have to know what’s needed,” she said, looking down at the potion. “Let’s give it a go.”
“I don’t know anyone that’s injured.”
She rolled her eyes and picked up the knife he was using to cut up roots. As he watched, she cut her palm slightly. Seeing what she was doing, he ripped the knife from her hand, “Why did you do that!?”
“To test it,” she said. She dipped a spoon into the potion and then took a sip. Trox watched as the wound healed slowly and was quickly gone without even a scar.
“That’s… oh my god. You did it!”
“Of course. You just have to know what the potion needs in return for helping.”
“Meaning what?”
“Well… you wanted to heal a human, so it takes the death of a human to make. It has to have payment for doing what you want it to.”
“It’s a potion.”
She smiled, “If you want it to work…”
“Fine, let’s look at this one,” he said, walking over to the bubbling vial. “I want to make a truth spell.”
“Ok, so what does it do right now?”
“Makes people vomit.”
She laughed, “Great. What’s in it?”
Trox walked over to his cabinet again and started going through it. He handed her the eighteen vials, and she started looking through them. Half she put on one side, half on the other.
When she was done, she pointed to the pile on her left, “Those are useless for lying.”
He nodded and put them away, “Repayment then?”
“Lying… lying…,” she said, deep in thought. “Let’s try the tears of someone in mourning.”
He frowned, “Why?”
“Well, when someone is in mourning, they are too distraught to lie. So we give the potion pure truth.”
“How do you come up with this stuff?” he asked, looking over her carefully.
“I learned the theory from an Assassin that makes poisons. It’s the same idea,” she said. “So shall we make a truth serum?”
“I’m fresh out of tears.”
She smiled, “True. Well, we can work on something else.”
He nodded, suddenly realizing he was enjoying this time with her, “What shall we make then?”
“An age potion?”
“To make people younger?”
“Sure, why not?”
“That goes against nature.”
“And your healing doesn’t?” she asked him.
***
“What’s this one called?” Kyrin asked, holding out a bottle. She was sitting in the window as the night put cool air into the warm room. Trox was stirring a pot that was bubbling over the fire. It was well past midnight, but neither was ready to stop.
“That’s Laurel.”
“It’s good if you eat rotten food.”
Trox frowned, “Why would you eat rotten food?”
“Because that’s all you have to eat. You choke it down and then chew on some Laurel.”
“I’ll remember that,” he said, and wrote something down in a book.
“Hand tired yet?” she asked, swinging her feet.
“Yes, very.”
“This one takes a while.”
“I don’t see how useful it can be to turn wine into water.”
“That’s because you’ve never been without it.”
“True”
“Don’t stir too fast or it could explode.”
He looked over at her as she sat in the window and again noticed how beautiful she was. He wondered if she had any idea of her looks, “Might I ask you a question?”
“Sure”
“Do you love Alric?”
“I don’t know.”
“I think you do,” Trox told her.
“Love is useless. It can’t save you, or help you when you’re lost. VIt can’t feed you or give you water…”
“You’re wrong. It can save you.”
“How?”
“You’d be amazed what love can get you out of. Hope does a lot.”
“Love doesn’t give hope though.”
“It does too.”
“When were you in love?” Kyrin asked him.
“It is my turn for questions. So, you do love him, I’m sure of it. Marriage is the natural progression.”
“There’s nothing natural about it.”
“Why not?”
“Humans weren’t made to be a possession.”
“So marrying Alric would make you his possession?”
“Yes, to be used, abused, passed around, and eventually either killed or sold when he’s tired of me.”
Trox smiled, “I have never heard of a husband that would allow another to have his wife.”
Kyrin reached to her side and grabbed the mug sitting there. She drank it and then put it down, “That stuff’s pretty good. What is it?”
“It’s an ale I make.”
“Is there more?”
“Sure, help yourself.”
Kyrin got up and poured herself another mug before sitting down in the window.
“Just don’t fall out.” Trox laughed when she almost spilled the ale sitting back down.
“I won’t. It’s cooler over here,” she said.
“Ok, so… you get married you become the possession of the husband.”
“Right, no more decisions, no more thoughts or opinions. You do what he says and nothing else.”
“You think Alric would do that?”
“I know he would.” Kyrin took another long drink.
“Alric isn’t that controlling, especially to someone he loves.”
“Do you have any of the fluid from when a baby is born?”
Trox looked at her, “Do what?”
“You know… the squishy stuff that comes out with the baby.”
“No, I don’t have that on me at the moment.”
“You can bring back the dead with that potion.”
He looked up, “Really?”
“Well… sort of. They become kind of a walking corpse. If you’re fighting alone though, it can come in handy.”
“I would imagine. So these vile acts you speak of after marriage.”
“Yes?”
“What are they?” he asked, trying to hide the amusement from his voice.
“I don’t really know.”
“How do you even know there is such an act?”
“I’ve heard new brides talking about it, I guess it’s horrible.”
“I see.”
“Then when the husband gets tired of his wife, he forces a baby into her as a punishment.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“Around,” she said, taking another drink.
“I see, and how does he do that exactly?”
“I’m not sure about that either.”
Trox stopped stirring for a moment, “How is it, you've traveled across the universe but don’t know?”
“Well, it’s not something people speak about. It’s done in secret when the husband is mad and the wife is helpless.”
“What if I promise you that Alric won’t control you? He isn’t like that and will treat his wife as an equal.”
She shrugged, “At first, I’m sure. It’s when they tire of the wife that they make her have a baby and after that who wants her?”
“You have the most eschewed views of things I’ve ever heard of,” Trox told her.
“I’ve seen it though.”
“Tell me something personal. Do you like when Alric kisses you?” Trox asked.
“He holds my hands.”
Trox laughed, “Yes, I know.”
“I do though,” she said, watching the pot boil. “It makes me feel all flittery.”
“What’s flittery?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t you think that if Alric did decide to control you, that you could simply use magic and escape?” Trox asked.
“Hey, that’s true.”
“I cannot imagine a man controlling you.”
“Why’s that?”
“You’re too strong and independent. You’ve been alone your entire life and rely on no one. Any man would be hard-pressed to oppress you.”
She smiled, “That’s so nice of you to say.”
He chuckled as he watched the caldron.
“Even if you aren’t controlled, you’re still a possession to be sold at will. Not to mention, the baby thing.”
“Here, most women want a baby.”
“Which is odd.”
“No, it’s odd not to want one. Women are nurturers.”
“Not all of us.” “True, I don’t see you as a nurturer.”
“Is that potion blue yet?”
Trox looked over, “No, it’s still more indigo.”
“So you tell me how babies are put into the wife.”
“No”
“Why not?”
“It’s just private.”
Just when Alric stepped into the room, the potion Trox was stirring exploded, sending smoke up into the room. Kyrin fell back laughing, almost falling out of the open window, and Trox began to cough and wave the smoke away from him.
Alric frowned and looked at them, “What’s going on? It’s nearly 4am.”
“I told you not to stir too fast,” Kyrin said, righting herself.
“My hand was tired,” Trox said indignantly.
“Don’t make me ask again,” Alric said, frowning.
Trox smiled, “Kyrin knows how to make potions.”
“You do?” Alric raised his eyebrows.
“Yes, of course.”
“What did you make?”
“We made a healing potion.”
“It’s 4am and that’s all you’ve managed?”
“Well, we were working on another but Trox blew it up,” Kyrin explained.
“It’s late. Let’s go to bed.”
She nodded and got down out of the window, then swayed slightly.
“Are you drunk?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Yes, she is,” Trox told him. “My ale loosens lips.”
“Shhhh,” Kyrin said, putting her hand over Trox’s mouth.
Alric studied him and made a mental note to ask him about that later. He then took Kyrin’s arm and led her up to the bedroom to sleep.
When she laid down on the floor, he laid beside her and smiled.
“What?” she asked, looking over at him.
“Did you have a nice time with Trox?”
“I did actually.”
“And did you jump out of the library window?”
Kyrin nodded, “Yes, I did. I saw a portal key.”
“So you tried to run.”
She nodded and then yawned.
Alric leaned over her and took her wrists in his hands before pressing his lips to hers. She tasted like alcohol, but seemed to relax under his touch. He was pleased when she responded, and her kiss became more passionate to match his.
His hands ached to caress her skin and feel her toned body beneath his fingers, but he couldn’t risk her casting on him, and he liked how it frustrated her when he held her hands. Her body seemed to fit perfectly against his as he moved on top of her, and his kiss grew stronger.
She inhaled softly as his kiss traveled down her neck and then up to her ear as he whispered, “Marry me.”
“Alric,” she sighed.
“Marry me,” he said again, kissed her softly, and then looked into her eyes.
She hesitated and then nodded slightly.
Alric smiled, “Thank you.”
“If you do it though, I’ll turn you into a troll.”
“Do what?” he asked, watching her. Her eyes slowly slid shut, so he crawled off of her and went to bed.