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Rated: E · Fiction · Fantasy · #2153361
A Queen-sorcerer has to fight against her husband to save the kingdom from destruction.
Chapter 1





"Do you think I shouldn't go?" Pravus Vartherion, the kingĀ­-Wolf Slayer as they called him-asked. He had dark-like-the-night beard and matching-color, shoulder-length hair.
He hadn't had to ask. All he had to do was look at her face and into her sapphire eyes. Face filled with disapproval and eyes filled with fury. She'd always been opposed to it. Every time he went to hunt wolves, she'd give him the same response.
From when they first met, this matter had been the source of disagreement. She was telling him what he was doing was wrong and that someday he'd regret every single wolf he killed.
Wolves were dangerous creatures. More dangerous than Pravus wanted to believe. The forest may was a part of his realm, but it belonged to them. They could kill whoever they wanted -whoever crossed their forest. Though, they only killed to protect themselves.
The number of people they'd killed over the years was nothing compared to what people had done to their species.
They had been living in the forest since almost the beginning of time. For that, this land was named 'Wolfland' after them.
"Wolves aren't the type of animals you want to mess with," Eureen Terothious warned him. She'd warned her husband before. Countless times actually, but he never listened to her. Not about the wolves; not about anything.
"I'm not to mess with as well, still you are getting on my nerves on a daily basis," he said, his emerald eyes staring at her. She readjusted herself in her seat.
The door knocked.
"Come in." Pravus was the only one that let people into their rooms.
The castle they lived at was a three-floors high, gigantic one. The first two floors had six rooms each. Dungeons, armories, the servants' and guests' -though they rarely had visitors- rooms were there.
Their rooms were on the third and last floor. Rooms designed for a king. Valuable objects could be found anywhere, even in the most unexpected places. The smell of wealth couldn't go unseen.
The walls were made out of cobblestone. There were also some objects made of wood, swords and shields carved on them.
"My King, My Queen," Sacer greeted them, walking through the door.
He was the priest. He had been one since Pravu's father was the one wearing the crown on his head. He was spreading the love of God for five years now.
Pravu's father had died two years ago. Not the kind of king to be considered just and kind. Pravus had for sure taken after him.
The first thing someone saw when getting in was a big wooden table -it had swords carved on it. They were sitting at it right now. They were dinning. A variety of foods on the table: lamb, chicken, salad, potatoes.
She hated Sacer. He was nothing more than a liar. His friendship with Pravus was based solely on lies. With her, on the other hand, was nonexistent. Even his presence made her gut twist.
"I came to let you know that I talked with The Knights and they said they'll be waiting for you in the morning. At the usual place." Like there was a chance of them not being there. His loyal dogs. Only thing they were good at, was following orders.
The Knights -Pravus had given them this name- were his personal guards. Merec and Carac, their real names were.
"Thank you Sacer," Pravus said, smiling at him.
She was sick of Pravus. Not only him, but everyone else who obeyed him without questioning his decisions and the impact they had.
She and Pravus were fighting all the time. He wanted her to follow every order of his. In other words, have blind faith in him. She couldn't. She had grown up to think before taking action. And to object whenever her rights and freedom were threatened.
"Would you like to have a glass of wine with me?" the king asked.
Only reason Sacer had this behavior when near him, was to be friends with him. He didn't really like him as much as he showed he did. She'd told him over and over again, but he wouldn't listen. Not that he ever did. He didn't care -didn't want to care- as his pride was fogging his thinking, not allowing him to see Sacer was just manipulating him.
Her red like-the-sunset hair, light-shaded body and her blue eyes that could penetrate even into the most stone-hearted men, were the reasons he had married her. So why would Pravus -the king- listen to her, when he thought of her only as someone beautiful enough to have won his heart?
"I'm very sorry Your Grace, but God doesn't allow me to drink anything other than water," he said scratching his head.
He had little hair on his head, and what time had forgotten was a mix of gray and white hairs -mostly white. Contrary to his head, his face was covered by a dense, gray mass of hair. "If you'll excuse me, I have to go." Bowing, he closed the door behind him.
She never wanted to marry him, she was in love with another man. When he had asked her father, Lean, to marry her, he had accepted without the slightest hesitation. Marrying the prince -his father was still alive and ruling- was the most honored she could be, her father had said, and accepted his offer.
Her father had died four months after their marriage. When he died, Pravu's behavior was nothing close to what it's like now. He was sweet and made her happy.
It all got an unexpected twist after his father's death. From that day, he was a diffrent man. A despicable, cruel one. It was like his father controlled him, holding him back from unleashing all the monsters from inside of him. There were some out even when he was alive, but after his father's death the gates had fully opened.
They had been married for three years and those were the worst of her life.
"He came all this way," -his house was half an hour away- "just to tell you that The Knights will be there. You commanded them to be there, how couldn't they? And you still don't see that all he wants is to have you by his side."
"You are out of your mind. You always had," he said, his hands on the table, his fists closed. "Just like you are with the wolves. It's not that big of a deal to kill some wo-"
"SOME! Last year you and your men killed more than a hundred of them. And for what? For the pure joy of it. Should you continue like this there will be no wolves left in this world." Despite the calmness her voice beheld, Eureen's eyes were locked on him, revealing her true emotions.
"So what? I am the king, I can do whatever I want to, and if that means killing these wolves, let it be," he said his voice loud and steady.
"You may be the king, but you are not a god. You are still a human just like everybody else. Being a king doesn't entitle you to do as you please, not caring about the consequences!"
With fast, tiny steps, she walked to the bedroom they were unfortunately sharing.




-------





"NOOO... NOOOOO...."
She woke up to Pravus shaking her.
Although it was the complete opposite of hot -it was a rather cold and windy autumn night- it was as if she'd sinked into a bathtub full of sweat; her sweat.
"What happened?" There was neither sympathy nor concern in his voice.
"It... it was just a dream..." she said, her voice trembling, just like a little girl's after being scolded by her parents for breaking their favorite vase.
Pravus stormed out of the room without saying a word. When he came back, he was holding a glass filled with wine. He hit it on the bedside table -it was a habit of his- and took a sip.
"How can you drink under these circumstances?" She had forgotten that for him there were no right or wrong, acceptable or unacceptable, hours to drink.
He was now standing by the window, looking at the starful sky.
Their room was high enough for them to be able to see the forest -even though it took a total of three hours to go there. And that was with a good horse.
She was the one who had chosen that room. Pravus wanted the other one. From there, they could see the sky align with the sea. From there, they could also see -if they were observant enough, and knew excactly where to look at- the seaside towns, or as Pravus called them the 'fish-suppliers'. The view was nice, but it couldn't be compared to the majesty of the forest. It had its own peculiar, in a way, charm.
"All of this for a stupid nightmare!" He was nervously shaking his foot. "Are you a kid or what?"
"Just let it go, will you?" She grimaced, smelling the sweat that her body was producing. It was a smell that surprisingly surpassed the smell of wine.
It didn't feel like a dream... it was something else... a premonition.
Years had passed since she had seen one. The first time she saw one, she was too young to understand what was it. The first time she saw one was before her death...
Pravus was shaking his foot more intensively now. He took another sip -after hitting his glass on his bedside table- and said, "Are you asking me to just let it go? You woke me up!"
She was standing at the edge of the bed with her feet touching the ground -her favorite position- and was looking at the forest. The view was mesmerizing. "What did you see?" he queried, with no interest in the answer.
A sudden wind filled the room with autumn's cold air. It made her shiver. "I saw myself getting killed." The lie flawlessly came out of her mouth. Lying was the least of her concerns.
She took a step, tripped and almost fell down. She walked to the window, but her feet failed her, making her fall to the ground. It was like the premonition had drained all the energy out of her body.
He didn't move to help her regaining control of her feet, he didn't even look at her. He was just standing there motionless, looking into his glass of wine.
She had seen her and her boyfriend -the one she had before marrying him- they were fighting someone together; Someone she knew, but couldn't recognize.
She and her ex-boyfriend she saw. Though in the place of the person they were fighting there was just a shadow. A shadow that looked like a human. She didn't notice any other characteristic. Gender. Age. Nothing that could help her identify him -or her.
She placed her hand at the bottom of the window. Pushing against it with whatever power had left in her body, she stood up.
She rubbed her forehead, just above her right eyebrow, as if there was something on it. Something she needed to, immediately, get off her.
Pravus hit his glass -Eureen didn't see where but she heard the sound- and took another sip. The glass had a little bit less wine to be considered half-full, Pravus drank it all. He was used to it. He was drinking every day for the whole duration of their marriage. Three years of drinking. She bet he was drinking before their marriage as well. After all these years, he'd become immune to its effects.
She decided she'd meet Sacer at the church tomorrow. There were books at the church's library that might held answers to her questions. Pravus hadn't burned books about sorcery. For that she thanked him.
If there was a book that could help her identify the person in her premonition she had to find it.
She was sure she wasn't crazy. She may think that, when she was four years old but then things were different... back then her mother was still alive. Back then she didn't have that scar on her heart.
She wouldn't make the same mistake she had when she was young. This time she knew this was real. This time she'd take action before it was too late.
Pravus fell asleep. It was better that way. Should he had asked for more details she would have to lie -which was almost impossible under the pressure she was under. She couldn't be able to make up a story believable enough.
But he didn't, for he didn't know premonitions and other things he considered impossible, were real.




-------





Food was waiting Pravus at the table when he woke up: eggs, bread, honey, milk. Everything he needed to consume before killing wolves. The servants had made sure of it. They had their way with cooking. Only thing they were good at.
Making them his servants was more than they deserved. He would've killed them both, if he wasn't in need of their services.
But even if he decided to kill them -or throwing them to the dungeons-, the next servants -becauase he needed servants- wouldn't be any better. They were nothing more than slaves. Slaves that could cook. But all slaves were like that. Stupid, useless humans. So, not finding a better solution, they were still living.
"Goodmorning," he said, but Eureen had her attention elsewhere.
There was no conversation between them whatsoever. He was sick of her. Why couldn't she be like any other woman? Doing everything she could to please him.
He was naive. If he could change her, he would've picked another woman. Anyone but her.
He was given the free will to choose whoever he liked. There were no rebels or enemy houses, so marrying to make peace was off the table. He'd picked her, believing she would be easy to tame. To make her do as he wanted. Little did he know she was like a beast. She couldn't be tamed. That was the biggest mistake of his life.
He was only twenty-one years old when he asked her father for his permission to marry her -something his father insisted on doing. At this age, he shouldn't have chosen a wife. Let alone one like her.
He wished he had waited before making a decision. If he waited Eureen's true character would've been revealed. All those things about her he was unable to stomach would've been revealed.
He got to his bedroom. Although the armory was one floor below, he kept his armor and sword close to him. This way, he had access to them whenever he needed them. Although up to this day he hadn't needed them once.
He had people protecting him day and night. Nobody would ever try to kill him in his rooms, it would be a suicide. Still he kept them close to him.
He wore his armor. Wolves were wild beasts and a full-grown one could easily be two meters long. They could tear whichever part of his body they wanted apart. They could eat him while his heart was still beating at his chest.
Sacer's parents were killed this way. The wolves had killed them and dined with their bodies. They had torn apart their limbs. Sacer was lucky enough to see them dead. Had he seen them the moment of the attack, he would have tried to save them -and end up dead in his attempt to stop them. He was only four years old and luckily he didn't remember much of that night.
After that, the monks had taken him into their custody and raised him to be a priest. That was what Sacer had told him.
Monks were people cut from everybody else. They were living in solitude, worshiping God at a temple south of the capital.
He grabbed his sword.
Stainless steel. Finest steel that could be found. Forged by the most skilled blacksmith in the kingdom -Gregor. His father was a blacksmith before him, and had taught him all he knew.
He had even shaved with it. A difficult task indeed, but the sword was as sharp as a razor. If not sharper. Its hilt was made of leather. Steady grip. On the one side, the sword had his name engraved on it.
Sheathing it, he had a smile on his face.




----------





Eureen didn't turn her head when he walked past her. She preffered staring at the wall. The wall couldn't do the things he did to her.
"It is punishable by death to ignore your king."
Her eyes watery, she said, "SCREW YOU!" Standing up, she threw the chair she was sitting on. "SCREW YOU AND YOUR FILTHY ATTITUDE!" She was about to explode. She may had, had he not pushed her against the wall.
He placed his right hand around her neck, choking her. She unsuccessfully tried to speak. "Lev m aone..." was the sound that came out of her mouth.
"You raise your voice one more time..." he threatened her. Anger was in control, but there was something else hidden in his voice as well. Humiliation. He didn't want her to neglect him. His ego couldn't -wouldn't- allow her do this unpunished.
Her face pale as death, her feet weren't touching the ground for too long. Her lungs were empty. Less air went down her lungs with each breath. She was seeing black dots. A little more and she would die.
She grabbed his wrist.
Although, she wasn't applying any strength, Pravus immediately let go of his grip. It wasn't the minimum amount of strength she had applied the reason he'd let her breath again.
She stabilized her breathing.
"Wh... What are you doing? I'll kill you if you don't step back," he said, his voice shaking, just like the rest of him.
She saw him trying to reach for his sword, but her hand had glued on his, draining all of his power. Despite being on his knees, she didn't stop. She had to teach him a lesson: to never threaten her again.
"You are in no position to command me!" she said, her voice cold.
She felt like fainting. She couldn't hold him any longer; not without the risk of everything around her going black. He looked at his hand, while she was fighting to stay conscious.
"I'll let you walk away unharmed this time. Next time... well, I can promise you nothing." She'd pass out. He had to go. He couldn't see her fainting. If he did...
He stood up, Eureen's eyes on him. Their eyes met. He immediately averted his eyes from hers. "Leave!" she commanded him. Looking at the floor he walked out the door.
She rushed to her bedroom and laid on her bed.




----------





Walking down the stairs he replayed what had happened in his head.
Only then did he realize that Eureen's eyes were icy. Not only in color, they had a cold, inhuman something...
A chill went down his spine.
He stopped walking and looked at his hand. Still red and burning.
When he met with The Knights at the barn they both petrified. They were looking at his direction, not blinking, not moving. Just like statues. He questioned -not aloud, only to himself- whether they were breathing.
They both were bald, as the king commanded to systematically shave their skulls. Despite the lack of hair on their heads, their arms were hairy as an animal's.
"Are you alright, Your Grace?" Merec asked. Pravus was blanch. Except for the spot that Eureen grabbed him.
"I'm fine. I almost fell off the stairs that's all." What had made him pulling his hand from her neck? It wasn't her strengh for sure...
Although he had lied to them, he couldn't lie to himself. About what he saw. About how he felt. Her eyes, her grip and her voice were all he could think about.

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