Iridia short -My first kill-

*My First Kill*
the very first time I killed it made me sick.
It was a normal enough day in every way except that it was off, like fetid meat that you might bite into hoping for a good taste. There had been a dampness in the air that seemed to put everyone on edge. The miasma that seemed even to infiltrate the rays of the sun and made most of the staff restless, even Chef Boldo, who was always so steadfast and even tempered, had a heavy air of woe surrounding him about.
The gloom hung so thick in the air that Magistrate Tarragon and his family decided to take their meals separately in their rooms, meaning that there were to be no formal meals, which meant that the prepared menu for the day was tossed with the morning latrine. Normally, this meant that the kitchen brigade was stripped to the bare minimum and the other commis and I would have forced a cooking contest courtesy of Chef Boldo's instructions. Each of us would create some whimsical dish for fun and practice but today was, indeed, off. Instead of leaving us to practice Chef dismissed us with a weary grunt and wer were left to our own devices for the day.
It had been well over a month since we had proper time off so we were all rather giddy despite the malaise that steeped in the air. Any down time we had was always spent tasting, chopping, or stewing to perfect our skills. Chef Boldo always tells us "if you have time for fun you have time to learn and there's no reason why you can't combine the two". Clearly his apprentice days are a bit foggy because fun and tutelage dont always go hand in hand.
We were all at loss for what to do with our day of respite from the kitchens and thus had no idea what we wanted to do. After much debate it was realized our everyone's idea of what would be fun to do on our day off was not in sync as it usually was and decided we that group fun was just not on the Agenda today and so we split for the day. Chervil and Jasmine decided to go shopping for frilly things that I like as well but was not in the mood to shop for so I declined their offer. Chive and Basil decided to chase after Jasmine and Chervil. Silly boys, they still haven’t figured out that they are far more than friends. They are subtle about it, but if one is watching it can be seen.
I, on the other hand, had not quite decided what I would do with my new found laxity granted by "Warden" Boldo, and thought it best to idle away in the kitchen garden until I figured out what to do with myself.
The kitchen garden is located behind the kitchen and is only accessible through the servants passage that run behind the wall of the castle. Its magnificent place to be and it is easy to forget that every green stalk and splendid flower was chosen for the unique flavor and aroma it would lend to our kitchen. Verdant Dream is its official name and it is splendid. Everything here grows in organized chaos where the only semblance of human intervention are the stakes and trellis driven into the ground. It wasn't long before I found myself plucking unwanted green shoots between sweet peppers; Curse Boldo and the work ethic he beat into me; I can't even be lazy when he orders me to be lazy.
I was knee deep in weeds when I heard a shout from the center of the garden.
"Oi kitchen wench"!! It was Mace. He was sitting on a low limb of the tightly budded apple tree that ornamented the center of the garden.
It was the first time he had every spoken to me and I felt the hair stand on the back of my neck. Here in this garden of dreams my dream was coming true, he was talking to me, and it put me in a cold sweat.
"I'm not a kitchen wench, I'm an apprentice wench thank you very much. My time will be worth much more when I gain my status". It was the best I could come up with while forcing me feet to stay planted to the ground. We were alone here and my feet sorely wanted to take off in the opposite direction.
"The difference between a whore and a consort” he smiled weakly. Even his smile was hollow.
"You've never said a word to me these three years and now you speak. Is there an occasion" I said in a strained and stoic voice?
He jumped down from the low limb and walked lazily towards me. I could see that he was not wearing the standard kitchen runner’s garb of rough brown pants, loose dark blue shirt and white apron, with a brown head scarf to contain his hair. He was wearing his strolling-about clothes; brown pants, but a cornflower blue shirt, both made of cotton. With his hair uncovered his fiery curls hung loose slightly below his ears and his bangs framed his eyes sensuously. His thin summer clothes clung to the light film of sweat on his body. He terrified me but my body was so hot and was not from the noon day heat.

"You're interesting Pep and I think I like the way you watch me" he said matter-of-factly.

"I do not watch you" I replied weakly, but we both knew it was a lie.

He stepped in front of me. We stood eye to eye. Face to chest. I felt intoxicated by his gaze.
"You do watch, and I watch back". He grabbed and tilted my chin up in one motion. His grip was firm; he could break my neck if he wanted to. My life was in his hands and I liked it. "Come out with me. We aren't on Boldo's leash and we should make the most of it." Our eyes were locked but there was no connection.

"Why should I? maybe I have plans today".

"You don't. I know the look you have when you have plans, especially with your family, annoyed with the mildest enthusiasm. You love them but they make you crazy".

"You have been watching me." I smiled. He dropped my chin and began to walk away. I think he took a piece of me with just then and the rest of me wanted to follow.
Then he turned around. His face was smooth and asymptomatic of emotion, but his eyes flickered with life just for an instant and said "You'll have fun, I promise".

In that moment I realized that he hadn't taken a piece from me. He had the piece that was missing.
I followed behind him.
*********************
At first it was odd strolling about with, or should I say alongside, of Mace. I get the impression than no one travels with him anywhere. We were in Dorado District, the artisan district of Poe, the garment sector to be exact. There were bolts of rich and cheap fabric and threads everywhere. The measure of each artist’s success could be seen by how desperate they seemed to grab the attention of shoppers. True quality has a lure of its own while cheapness makes the most noise.
We had left the courtyard of Annabelle Square to the Dorado district and wound ourselves through the labyrinth of fabric, pottery, wood works, and all other manner of skilled crafters displaying their wares.
Mace never once looked at me.
I was getting rather bored and was about to work up the nerve to steer us towards the food merchants quarter for a good excuse to leave when I realized we were traveling down. Literally down-hill and down in the prosperity ladder. We were headed directly to the slums.
There's a smell to poverty that cannot be mistaken. It invades your sense of smell and taste leaving your mouth and nose violated from the stench. It smelled rotted piss and fetid despair. I was taking in the unpleasantness of my surroundings when something far more astounding caught my eye. It was Mace and he was alive. I mean of course he was alive before but now.
As the afternoon dragged we kept walking deeper into Rue district seemingly toward the slums. First past the clean and respectable poor whose only evidence of poverty was their address and down further to the degenerates who have thrown in their lot with alcohol and violence. All the while we walked down the ruined streets I could feel the despair of poverty and listless minds filled only with base thoughts. It felt like a disease that that unknowingly drained the life from its victims: The further down we traveled into the fissure of the downtrodden the more Mace came alive. His posture straightened, his cadence more confident, and the miasmic aura that he always carried that seemed to push people away became something more insidious. And his eyes, they were on fire, a maelstrom of sea-green. I was terrified and captivated. I wanted to drown in them.

(needs transition )


When I saw the man's body on the bed in front of me a swirling sickness took over my senses. The world my eyes beheld began to warp and my vision seemed to fray at the seems. In that brief moment of fear my senses contorted and inverted themselves; I could see with ears, taste with my hands. The world shifted and rocked and I could see myself outside of my body and then back in again. I lost track of the world beyond my muddied senses and was only dimly aware of Mace's bruising grip around my forearm that forced me out
Then it all snapped back. I was sick. Sick with pleasure, delight, and joy. The power I felt while I counted the seconds his life's light drained from his eyes. The moment that the zoetic spark that makes each of us human is crushed beneath my fingertips. Indeed, I was sick. So sick with power that I nearly lost my dinner on my fresh kill.
I'm not sure what happened between the snuffing of the man's life fire and the alley where I found myself tangled in Mace's lithe arms and his hardness inside me with my back against the filthy brick. The eddy of emotions I felt were a foreign mixture of with ecstasy fueled by lust for power and blood and I rode its waves until Mace spent his own desires inside me.
We lingered on the wall for a short eternity and while I was still reeling from the barrage of sensory input in my heightened state I was vaguely aware of Mace fixing my underthings and wiping away the wet that ran down my thighs almost to my knees. It was not a long walk back to the castle but the sights and sounds that occurred between my the high of lust and blood and the sobering descent to reality was lost to me. I can only remember that it took every ounce of control had while Mace lead us through Rue district without the release of hysterical cries from a body I didnt feel as if I fully inhabited.

I crawled into my bed that night riding high lust and blood and slipped into scarlet dreams of passion and madness that sent a shiver up my spine and slick moisture running down my thighs once more.
(Needs transition )

I'm not sure what made me go to Rue District with Mace that day. Maybe it was the confidence in his voice or surety of his gait as he lured me into my eventual metamorphosis. Maybe it was my desire to get glimmer into the boy I had been comrades with for so long but knew very little about? Maybe, maybe I was hoping to see a part of his soul that he would bare to no one else. Maybe it was merely an adolescent compulsion to defy my parents at every turn by treading the most dangerous district on the island. Whatever it was, when I looked into his sea green eyes, I wanted my world to change.