Chapter Five: The Bitterness

“Father?” Meliore asked quietly as Dáire walked back in.

“Hm?”

“…what exactly did you send Sae off to do?”

“Oh, nothing too important or dangerous.”

Meliore gave him a blank stare. “Sae said that too, but I didn’t believe him. He seemed worried right before he left.”

“He’ll be fine,” Dáire assured with a smile.

“Father, tell me the truth,” Meliore implored, staring across the room at the king.

The elf gave a heavy sigh. “I sent him to kill the one who cursed you.”

“Oh? And who cursed me?”

“Firnel.”

Meliore’s eyes widened; he gave a shocked gasp. He waited a few moments while he recovered before turning his half-lidded gaze back to his father. “The Firnel you and mother talked about the night before you kicked her out?”

Dáire ground his teeth together. “I didn’t kick her out. She left.”

“Why would she leave?” Meliore asked—there was only a small amount of venom in his voice, but it was a huge change from how he normally sounded. “She loved me more than anything—why would she leave unless she had to?”

Pained green eyes stared at the boy. “You don’t know, Meliore. You just don’t know…”

“What don’t I know, then?”

“She didn’t love you. She didn’t even care.”

“Liar,” the boy hissed.

Dáire just shook his head sadly.

“Why would someone curse me? What did I do to this Firnel?”

The king gave him a ‘look’. “Firnel shouldn’t even be involved. You were only cursed to get back at me.”

“What did you do?”

The king hung his head. “I don’t know.”

“So you got a powerful mage mad at you and he cursed me… and now you’re making Sae pay for your idiocy!”

“Pay for it?”

“You forced him to do it, didn’t you? You didn’t give him any choice in the matter, and now he’s going to die at Firnel’s hands!” Meliore cried, his head in his hands.

“No! In the end he decided to do it!”

“Oh, that’s funny… you know, I bet you sent Sae there in the hope that he and Firnel would kill each other off… you just wanted them out of your way…”

“Meliore, what are you saying? What’s wrong with you?” Dáire cried, jumping from his seat.

“I don’t want Sae to die…” the prince choked out, his voice thick with sobs.

Dáire sighed, plopping down on the bed and pulling the boy into his arms. “He won’t die, son. Everything will be just fine. I wouldn’t have chosen Sae if I didn’t think he’d be able to do it.”

“But you don’t care… I hate you, daddy…” Meliore muttered, but there was little force behind it.

“He won’t die, Melly. Believe you me, I didn’t pick him for his love of zucchini alone. He’ll do whatever it takes to save you, I know.” The king pressed a kiss to the top of his head, smoothing his blonde hair. Then he slowly stood, moving away.

“I know,” the boy whispered brokenly. Dáire quietly left, leaving the boy alone with his thoughts and the dread knotting his stomach. Meliore sighed, rolling over to face the wall and pulling the covers over his head. “He’ll save me, whatever the price… I feel sick.”

(>T-T)>

The soldiers stood together, their palms pressed against the giant doors. Achingly slowly, and with lots of sweating and grunting, the oaken monoliths slid apart. Sae, for his part, simply stood back and supervised. He figured there was no need to tire himself out before the battle even began.

As soon as the doors were open wide enough, the little band squeezed through and surveyed the room they’d just entered. It was lavishly decorated, although it had apparently not been redone in quite a number of years. A carved marble staircase led upward, from which the distinct sound of music could be heard.

Sae stepped forward cautiously, testing the staircase with one foot for safety. Finding it sound, his other foot followed and his hand went up to rest on the rail. There was a sudden creak behind him, and he whirled around in time to see two people drop from the ceiling.

The assassin recognized them as the infamous Kudo twins. They were his rivals, and had taken many a client from him. He angrily strode toward them, his mind set on settling the score—but a soldier blocked his way unexpectedly. He poked the man’s shoulder, but he wouldn’t move out of the way.

“You’ve got to go and kill Firnel! We can handle this.”

Sae eyed the huddle of soldiers warily, doubting whether they could handle it. He finally shrugged. “All right,” he said, tromping upstairs, following the haunting notes that drifted to him. His ears led him to a finely crafted metal door, which he eased open.

The music, he realized, came from a flute—which was, incidentally, being played by the quite beautiful woman lounging in the throne that rested in the center of the room. She had long black hair, pale porcelain skin, too-nice curves, and…

“Chocolate?” Sae asked, perplexed. His stomach cried for pudding and it took him a moment to realize why. “Ahhhhh! You’ve got the pudding-eyes!”

The woman put her flute down, pursing her lips. “What?” she asked, annoyed.

“Who are you? Why do you have those eyes?” Sae cried in confusion.

“You’re a loon,” she muttered, standing gracefully and pausing a moment to grasp her skirt to keep it from dragging the floor as she advanced. “What brings you here?” she asked, inches away from the assassin.

Sae caught her wrist in a vise-grip just before the dagger she wielded plunged into his flesh. He growled, taking her other wrist into the same hand and grasping her weapon in his other hand. “What’s your name?”

She gave him a deceitful smile. “My name is Aino, darling. What might your name be?”

“Sae Gaizka.”

“With a Z-K-A?”

“Yes,” Sae huffed.

She grinned. “Ha ha ha!”

The assassin’s face took on a quiet, contemplative expression before he managed to speak his thoughts. “Are you—are you Meliore’s mother?!” Sae asked, his fingernails pressing into the skin of her wrist.

The brown eyes widened impossibly and she fought to get away—Sae finally let her go and she stood in front of him, glaring. “Yes! Did that horrid father of his send you here? Did he send you here to kill me?”

“What? No. He didn’t mention you.”

“Oh, I bet he did. You know, the psycho ex-wife whose family he massacred because he was bored one day? Does that jog your memory?”

“Eh?! What are you talking about? King Dáire isn’t the type to do that!”

Chocolate eyes stared hatefully at him. “He did it, all right! And now he’s miffed because I had Firnel curse me, and his dear Melly-poo is going to die!”

Sae winced as she giggled happily, feeling quite sick to his stomach. “I’m sure there were reasons… and besides, Meliore is your son. It doesn’t matter what his father did, how could you think of harming him?!”

The woman smirked. “Oh, that was part of the plan all along. It was pure genius, really it was—pity Dáire found out, even though it took him almost thirteen years… Meliore was a pawn from the beginning—Dáire didn’t love anyone before I met him… or at least, he didn’t love someone so much that it hurt, you know? So I had to give him something he’d really miss… something that would hurt him as badly as he hurt me… tee-hee.”

“So what did you do—marry him? Married him because he killed your family?”

“Oh, no, silly,” she muttered, waving his suggestion off. “We were already married!”

“Oh. I get it now. He killed them because they were in-laws, then.”

“You are not amusing,” Aino muttered, although she didn’t seem hurt by his comment.

“You are not sane,” Sae mimicked her style of speaking.

A door opened behind Aino and Sae’s hand went to the swords at his hip. A man with brown hair and a stubbly chin stepped out; he wore formal mage’s robes that hung on him like a shroud. “Oh, Firnel, darling! We have company!”

He stepped forward, staring at the assassin with interest. He turned his gaze to Aino, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Is he here to kill me, too? I know you feel you must be a good hostess, but that mustn’t extend to those who wish to harm me, dearest.”

“I’m sorry, love. I just got so carried away—it’s not often we get visitors, you know.” Sae could hear the insincerity in her voice, but apparently Firnel didn’t realize it.

“Oh, it’s all right. Why don’t you go take a nap while I deal with him?”

“Ah, but we were having such a lovely chat! I was telling him all about the time I spent with King Dáire!”

A look of dark jealousy passed over the man’s face. His orange eyes glittered menacingly.

“You know it was only a job, darling! I only have eyes for you. Always.”

“Yes, I know—it was a mission from your clan. Still, I can’t help but be envious. I want you to be all mine, all mine.”

“But you are, you are!”

Sae turned to the side, so he didn’t have to watch their flirting; however, he could still see them out of the corner of his eye, in case Firnel tried to attack him. The teen pondered over the situation. Just what was Meliore’s mother doing with Firnel? And why was the great mage so blind to her tricks? Sae could tell just by looking in her eyes that she didn’t really love him, but the mage didn’t seem to notice.

And why… why would she try to kill her own son? It was inexcusable. Sae had the sneaking suspicion that Aino was behind it all and that Firnel was merely an accessory. He was so wrapped around her finger, Sae figured that he’d do anything she asked without hesitation.

Was he like that with Meliore? Were those enchanting brown eyes keeping an unfair hold on his heart? Were Sae’s feelings merely the same blind devotion Firnel seemed to have for Aino? He shook his head. It was the prince’s charming personality that drew Sae to him. Sae had fallen under his spell of his own volition, and that was the end of it. He was Meliore’s prisoner no more than the prince was his prisoner. And that was that.

When Sae finally returned his attention to the couple, they had just finished their flirting. He turned hardened eyes to the woman. “So you were with Firnel all along, and you were only with Dáire because your clan told you to kill him? And you got mad when Dáire killed them, even though they wanted him dead, so you decided you’d just go and kill your son?!”

“Yes, that’s about it.”

Sae’s fingers bit into his hands where they had formed into fists. “You didn’t care for Meliore at all… you were just using him to hurt your ex.”

Aino nodded, smiling devilishly.

At the confession, Sae couldn’t hold his anger in any longer. The loud smack echoed eerily across the room and Aino gasped in surprise, holding a hand to her reddened cheek.

“You slapped me?! ME?”

Before Sae knew it, he was pressed against the wall, a hand at his throat. “Don’t touch what’s mine,” Firnel ground out harshly, his fingernails digging into the boy’s throat.

The half-demon glared. “She more than deserves it!” he shrieked, launching sharp ice-blades from his fingertips. Firnel hissed in pain when they lodged themselves in his left eye, dropping Sae. Sae quickly leapt upon the mage, stabbing blindly at him with his ice sword. “She deserves to die, to rot in hell!” He willed his body temperature to rapidly drop, hoping that it would freeze the vulnerable fire demon.

After Sae had managed a few precious strikes, he was violently thrown back against the wall; he dizzily slid to the floor, but he could only spare a few seconds because the mage was racing toward him. Sae weakly brought his weapon up to guard against the powerful strike; the mage’s sword had fire running over its blade and Sae realized with horror that the blade of his sword was beginning to melt.

He jumped into the air, landing feet away and drawing another sword—this one was normal, with a steel blade. He would no longer have the advantage of ice, but at least he wouldn’t have to risk his weapon being destroyed. And besides, he was saving his ice scimitar for later. He would have to thank Infula for it when he got back to the castle. When, not if.

They clashed again and again, the raucous sounds of metal ringing in Sae’s ears. He cried out in pain when he was caught off guard; hastily he pulled the weapon from his knee and turned it against the mage, but the damage had been done.

Intense pain stabbed through the wound whenever he moved his legs, which he had to do quite a bit in order to avoid getting his head chopped off. Somehow, somehow, he managed to wear the mage down and he seemed to be gaining the upper hand.

Sae took a deep, calming breath before unsheathing his last hope, his ice scimitar. With a numbing fear he realized too late that Firnel was muttering a spell, his hands forming the symbols that went along with a powerful curse. Apparently the mage had been using the same tactics Sae had been using—he had feigned weakness and had then struck unexpectedly. The fire scorched Sae’s skin, burning away his shirt, making his flesh smoke unpleasantly. Horror ripped at Sae’s heart and he desperately leapt forward at the same time the mage did—they collided in midair, the mage landing heavily on top of him. Sae yelled in pain as he felt several ribs being crushed under the impact, feeling the blood soaking into his clothes.

Wait… that wasn’t his blood. Sae stared dumbly at his broken wrist, which was barely holding his ice scimitar in place. When the mage had fallen on him, the gone right through him, its skinny end poking up a few inches above his back, and the teen watched, entranced, as the deep red liquid oozed from the wound.

The teen pushed weakly against the mage, eventually managing to force the corpse to the side. He staggered to his feet as he caught sight of Aino, gagging as pain shot through his whole body. The woman was staring fearfully at him even in his weak state, and the assassin realized it would be only too easy to kill her, to send her to hell where she belonged.

He was preparing to throw his sword into her heart when the thought of Meliore stopped him. The boy would be distraught if he ever found out Sae had killed his mother. No matter how evil she was, the boy still loved her, and Sae figured he would still feel for her even after he knew what she had done.

An image of Meliore’s red, tear-streaked face filled his mind and Sae dropped his sword, leaning against the wall. What was left of his group smashed through the door; he noticed that several were missing, and the ones who had made it upstairs all suffered from at least one injury. The Kudo twins were a force to be reckoned with, but apparently the soldiers had managed and Sae breathed a sigh of relief, closing his eyes.

A soldier raced, worried, to his side and Sae was able to moan weakly, “Take her prisoner, take her prisoner,” before he tasted the blood on his tongue and felt it spilling across his lips.

And then everything went dark.