The Truce - 2. Chapter 2

Luca walked through the long halls of the Di Coteau estate, trepidation following his every step. He held onto his walking stick tightly enough for his knuckles to turn white, though in truth he hadn’t fully used the cane for many weeks. His stab wound from Jezebel’s sister-in-arms Meredith had almost healed entirely since the attack, though the skin still glowed bright pink as it repaired. Luca wasn’t sure why he had chosen to use the cane today, but suspected in the back of his mind that he felt he needed some kind of support. He knew he wasn’t really feeling the pressure of the physical damage; rather, the weight of the decision that hung over him felt more crippling than any wound could.

Eventually, this scar will fade to white, and the mark there will blend in a little bit more. Luca frowned, wishing that he himself could fade into the background, and avoid this confrontation altogether. I don’t know if I can do this.

The young man felt weak, despite having risen to his prime in the last two years. He was now a steward of one of the most powerful Generals in Nabius and was equipped to ascend to even greater heights in the event that Alexandre won the war. He honestly couldn’t say whether this would happen or if it was even likely, but he had thrown himself headfirst into the cause. Luca had never felt so strongly about anything and felt that he owed it to himself and the downtrodden people of the continent to fight for peace. He knew that he never had an option in this battle – the choice had been made for him through his upbringing, goals, and ideals. That same life experience was what was forcing him to be honest now.

I have to. Not just for me… but for all of the others that have gone through what I have. Rosalynn. And Jamie. And Jack – especially Jack. Lastly… I have to do this for Eamon too. He might have successfully climbed the ladder, but not without damages. He deserves happiness too.

Luca took a deep breath in, mentally bringing himself to a state of collectedness. He tried to be cool and calm, like Alexandre or any other Nabian leader would be in the face of adversity. He knocked on the door to Adrian’s suite, and entered when he heard the soft call to come in.

“Good afternoon Adrian,” he said.

“Good afternoon. I’m glad to see you.” Luca gave a tight smile to Adrian’s response, and walked over to where the Prince was seated at a mahogany desk.

“May I sit?” he asked, and Adrian nodded. The look on the older gentleman’s face darkened a degree, and Luca knew that Adrian had anticipated his choice. Luca sat down across from his fiancé. He was still gripping onto his staff too tightly, and forced his hand to relax.

“Adrian…. I don’t know where to begin.” Adrian looked somber, and also resigned

.
“It’s okay,” he said quietly. “I had suspected this since the beginning, but was too much of a hopeful fool to give you the space that I should have offered.” Luca made eye contact after that, and grimaced.

“It’s not about space, or you. Or Eamon, for that matter.” Adrian arched an eyebrow at that, but let Luca continue. “I mean that. I’ve spent… the majority of my life fighting just to survive. I was taken from my home, and watched my entire family get slaughtered for the mere crime of being Ironian. I was sold into slavery, and eventually prostitution. The whole time, I thought I could get through it by daydreaming, and retreating deep into myself while I faced abuse. But when that spread to others, and the people I cared about started getting hurt…” Luca trailed off, a dull ache in his heart starting to settle.

“… you stood up for them, and took fate into your own hands,” Adrian finished for him. “That’s the main reason I want you at my side. Or wanted, I guess.” Luca looked up at him, this statement confirming that the match was not meant to be. Luca felt a sharp pang of guilt, but it was accompanied by relief at the fact that Adrian wouldn't feel blindsided by his rejection. “The people of the Illjard need leaders like that – ones that stand up for their subjects and care for the good of the masses. I think you ought to reconsider.”

“I can’t, Adrian. I’m sorry." Luca crossed his hands in his lap, and looked down at them. "The people of Nabius need that too, much more than the Illjardi.” Adrian opened his mouth to protest, but Luca cut him off. “I’ve seen it. I’ve lived it. And the only way that any of that changes is if Alex emerges from this fight victorious. So with that at stake… I need to stay here, and contribute how I can. I think that Eamon is right in that I have more to offer. I might just be running an empty mansion for now, but there are still people that live in this territory. There are supplies to ship and manage, and allegiances to uphold. I can’t just walk away from that in my friend’s greatest time of need.” Adrian nodded at that, and Luca knew that he understood the value of fulfilling one’s duties. Silence hung over the room for a little while, while Luca let the news settle until Adrian finally spoke up.

“And Eamon… is there something more between you two that I didn’t know about?” Luca felt embarrassed at the question, backed into a corner.

“No,” he said. “Or at least, there wasn’t when you first asked. What you walked in on the other day… it was the first time anything like that had happened. It was regrettable that the moment you came to seek me out was the exact moment that it happened.”

“Was it regrettable?” Eamon asked curiously. Luca felt heat flush towards his face, and knew that his cheeks were probably burning pink.

“It was… I regret that you walked in on it. And I regret that I hurt your feelings.” Adrian gave a soft smile at that, and Luca felt guilty.

“You didn’t hurt my feelings – not really in any substantial way. I shouldn’t have expected anything more with you. After all, I didn’t even really know you when I asked for your hand. And in truth, I was the one worried that I had hurt you. I realize that I forced my affection on you, and before I knew it… I apologize if you were upset with my advances.” Luca smiled, and waved a hand in the air back and forth.
“No, no! Trust me, I was very flattered... but my background makes it hard for me to process any kind of move on me. I haven't had... contact with anyone since leaving Meko's brothel."

"Ah," said Adrian, lifting an arm to scratch the back of his head uncomfortably. "I see." Luca nodded awkwardly, and decided to press on to another subject.

"Have you determined what you're going to do in the face of this war?" The question was probing, and probably a bit politically indelicate, but one of Luca's greatest fears was retribution for his slight.
"No," Adrian said honestly. "I've pretty much got no choice but to support the rebelling side of Nabius, after Alexandre backed me into a corner." Luca gave a concerned look, and Adrian hastened to add that he didn't think of the Di Coteaus' side as rebels, or the worse faction. "And besides," he continued on, "I have a duty to uphold to my people. I can't return to the Illjard without a spouse, and I now need to seek out options." Luca felt guilt at that statement, but tried to respond with what he felt was tact.

"Yes... perhaps we can help you identify candidates. From the lines of current Generals on our side, I don't think there are any living children save Talia. That being said, I'm guessing you prefer a male?"

Adrian locked eyes with Luca, and gave a terse nod. "In that case... there may be some counts that have children in the area. I could ask around, and see if there are any that might be a good fit?"

Adrian gave a grim smile, but held a hand up to say no. "I don't think that will be necessary." His tone was a bit more clipped, and Luca hoped he hadn't offended the prince by bringing up a replacement so soon after breaking off their engagement. "I think... I think I'm going to head south. I expect that Alex will be traveling up and down the warfront soon enough, so I'd prefer to meet with he and the Tomacian prince to discuss the matter. I don't mean any offense to you, but I think they'd probably know better, or have more connections."

"No offense taken," Luca said. "It will probably be easier to move north to south now as well, now that our line isn't broken." Luca picked up on a subliminal message that Adrian wanted time away from him, too, but didn't call attention to that.

"Exactly," said Adrian.

"When will you head out?"

"I expect I'll leave as soon as possible." Adrian had tried to sound stiff and objective with saying that, but Luca could tell that it was a bluff.

Shit. No matter what he says... I really did hurt him.

***
Ysabel prowled through the corridors of the wallfort, constantly having to use the bottom of her palms to push filthy hair and grime out of her eyes and off her face. She hadn't bathed in days and had spent too much time hunting down remaining supporters of General Orr. Even though the battle for the wallfort had ended, the demon hadn't left her mind and body. Try as she might, she still hadn't been able to regain control, and as a result she was caked in the blood and filth of enemies that had fallen beneath her claws. Alex had released his mother into the palatial estate shortly after it had fallen, and she had remained there since. Though General Di Coteau and his husband had already begun planning the next phase of their assault, Ysabel had been invited to no war talks.

Let me back in, she pleaded. The demon roared a resounding no back into her head, but Ysabel could feel it's grasp weakening. I need to get back to my children.

She crawled through the shadows of the estate, feeling more and more human as the demon's power faded. Ysabel was locked into one wing, probably at the behest of her son. She knew that it was for the best, but a small part of her was still angered and hurt at the fact that Alexandre clearly didn't fully trust her. But can I blame him?

Ysabel shuddered at the question, remembering a select few scars that she had given her children during their adolescence. They had all been accidents, of course... but it's no wonder I'm the last to know of their plans. I'm one of the reasons they isolate themselves. Ysabel's heart hurt for Talia after she had overheard talk of her capture, and this gave the General the strength she needed to force the demon back.

Piss off, woman! it wailed, before launching into a disgusting string of expletives. Ysabel ignored the curses and horrors the demon shouted, finally able to push her long hair out of her face, and detach her claws from her hands. Her fingers and hands felt sore after the contraption that armed her with five retractable blades was finally removed. It had been on for too long, and the skin underneath was split open from prolonged friction.

"Saints and gods help me," she said aloud, sighing loudly. She began walking towards the center of the wallfort, where there was undoubtably a barred door that she could get through to access the main palace. She knew she would likely have to convince the guards who were stationed there that she was of sound mind and had returned fully. Alexandre or someone trusted would likely come to inspect and confirm that the human was back, and Ysabel hoped that it wouldn't take long - she wanted to shower, and get some sleep. It wasn't the first time that she had been monitored and confined through the duration of a rampage, and she begrudgingly accepted the idea that it might not be the last. Along the way, Ysabel heard the footsteps of someone approaching from the hall at a right angle to her. Is there someone that survived in here with me this entire time? she wondered.

Kill kill kill kill kill repeated the demon in the back of her mind. When she rounded the corner, Ysabel saw that it was only Marcus.

"Great goddess," he said with a reverential bow. "Queen Nymeria. We have brought you more sustenance." Marcus held out a slab of raw meat, clearly intending to offer it to Ysabel as a meal.

"Why are you calling me that, Marcus?" Ysabel snapped. "Tread carefully - I take misnomers as a sign of disrespect." Marcus looked up at that, clearly puzzled. Ysabel thought that it seemed like he was expecting to address the demon itself.

"General Clarion," he said in his deep voice. "You are back unexpectedly early." Ysabel froze at that comment and gave Marcus an inquisitive look. When he said nothing, and let his hand with the steak fall to his side, Ysabel beckoned for him to walk along with her towards the exit.

What does he know? she wondered. He expects me to return at a specific time? The implications of that made her suspicious immediately, and she began to reflect on her time with Marcus and his tribesman.

Skorpa, that ritual... the food... it isn't possible that they forced this on me, is it? Ysabel frowned, thinking the possibilities over. Is there some sort of witchcraft involved in bringing forth the demon? Did they... do magic? Ysabel pondered it for a second, but then dismissed the notion. Foolishness. Perhaps the heat of their encampment and the cannibalization simply instilled the bloodlust in me. Disgusting, but certainly not magic. Still... she gave a sideways glance at Marcus, who seemed to be keeping tabs on her warily. He was inconspicuous, but she could tell that he was discreetly watching.

I don't think I want Skorpa and Marcus near me anymore. I don't trust them. Wherever I go next... they should go somewhere else.

***
Talia rose gradually to consciousness, light and darkness fading in and out of her vision in a valiant battle. The edges of her vision were blurred, and her head pounded with a reverberating ache.

My mouth tastes like something died in it, was her first conscious thought. As she came to, Talia realized that she must have been out for a long time. Her stomach ached for food, and she remembered flashes of brief awakenings where she had been given the bare minimum sustenance needed to survive. She could also tell that she had been drugged, and wondered what had been put into her system. At this rate, I could have been out for days, or weeks.

As control began to return to her fingers and toes, Talia struggled to move her limbs. She knew that the sooner she got everything working, the sooner she would be able to escape the clutches of Dmitri Orr. Her eyelids felt heavy, and it took a monumental effort to be able to hold them open. When she did, Talia was able to look up at the cathedral high ceilings of an enormous room. Where am I? She knew she wasn't in the sandstone vaults of the wallfort, and grogginess was interfering with her ability to reason out her location.

"Ugh," she grunted, while finally rousing lazily to try and sit up. Using her hand against the stone floor prompted a new wave of pain, and she thought back to her finger. The pinkie finger on her left hand had been removed, and she was still wearing a bandage that was wrapped tightly around the palm of her hand. It was now brown with dried blood, and Talia vaguely wondered if it might be infected. She knew that the bandage on it hadn't been changed in far too long, and that could be dangerous. It was another item to catalogue in the list of worries that she would have to deal with later, though.

Talia tried to twist her body into looking around and propping herself up, but shortly noticed that both of her wrists were restrained with manacles that restricted her movement. Finally glancing around, she noticed that this was also the case for her ankles. Shit.

"Ah, welcome back niece," said a voice that made Talia's blood run cold. The welcome was insincere, and the small hairs on Talia's neck and arms stood on their ends. Before turning to look the direction of the voice, Talia looked around at the room.

A field of silver needles on a red banner... it can't be. Talia looked over to her right, then to the left, and confirmed her worst fears.

"Uncle," she said meekly. Her speech still felt like it was slurred, but that was probably all she was going to get out anyway. Yago gave a gleaming grin, and sauntered over to where his niece was kept in chains.

"I was wondering when you would come to." He waited for a response, but when Talia didn't give him one he continued anyway. "You were out for some time... we're glad you're finally with us." Talia felt her voice choke in her throat, and it felt like it was ages before she was finally able to speak.

"Doubt it." Her voice was raspy, and speaking made her throat feel like it was cracking apart into hundreds of little flakes. Yago threw his head back and laughed at that, and Talia felt bile rising to the back of her mouth.

"Come now child, don't be so demure and drab. Where's the vicious bitch I've heard all about in the last few years?" He was still smiling, clearly entertained by his captive guest. Talia knew that he wanted her fighting spirit to flame up, but decided that she wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"I need water first," Talia grunted. The response didn't satisfy her uncle, and the corners of his lips turned downward slightly. After an exaggerated sigh, he replied.

"I suppose you do. Here, girl." Yago walked over to the large desk that was at the head of the room, just about ten feet from where Talia had been chained down. He picked up an empty goblet off of it, and began filling it with water from a pitcher. As Talia listened to the pitch of the water raising as the cup got full, she licked her lips. They were dry from thirst, and she was looking forward to getting some real, substantial food into her stomach later. Unfortunately, Talia knew that this probably wouldn't be for a while. As a prisoner, she most certainly wouldn't be afforded the calories needed to maintain her strength. Yago walked towards her cup in hand, and stopped just shy of where she was.

"Stand," he commanded. Talia made the effort to get up, her limbs still feeling sluggish. The restraints around her ankles made it more difficult than she had hoped, and her rise took an annoyingly long time. When she leaned forward to put her lips to the goblet, Yago held it just out of reach. "Ah ah," he teased, waving a finger. "Look at me."

Talia fought the urge to lash out, slowly raising her eyes to meet her uncle's gaze. They were the same emerald green as hers, and the idea of having anything in common with this man made her revulsion rise that much more. "Look up," Yago said. Talia did, knowing that Yago was relishing her being at his mercy. Straining her head upwards to catch water exposed her neck, and the feeling of vulnerability that it evoked in Talia made her want to retreat into herself.

Yago finally held the goblet to her lips, and tilted so that she could take long, cool, and refreshing gulps. The relief washed out her mouth and throat, and Talia took as much as she could. When Yago made a comment about her being greedy, Talia made eye contact with him once more. She saw his forbidden desire, and depths of cruelty that instantly set her ablaze. Carefully, she held one mouthful of water on her tongue, and backed off as if she were finished.

"Now that's a good little - " Yago was interupted when Talia spit the water into his face, and threw all of her momentum into a savage headbutt. She connected with a satisfying crack, and Yago reeled back while clutching a hand to his nose. The goblet fell to the floor, and Yago looked through his fingers at his niece. He removed them from his face, and Talia saw the bright red indication of a solid hit. Yago touched a finger to the blood, looked at it, and then put that same finger in his mouth. It took a minute, but he finally decided what he thought of this set of actions and laughed once more.

"There she is," he smiled, but Talia sensed an ever-mounting anger coming into his body language. "Glad to see you still have some of your family's fight in you." He licked the top of his lips, where a small rivulet had begun to flow. The blood in his mouth made his ordinarily white teeth look a bit orange, and Talia noticed that some of those teeth had been filed into points. "I appreciate the spirit."

"Fuck you," Talia retorted. This made Yago's grin even wider, and he began to walk to his desk to grab a linen cloth that he could dab at his face with.

"Now now," he said with the perfect intonation of civility. "I suppose I did ask to see the niece I so carefully cared for and helped to raise. Talia scoffed at that, but Yago kept talking. "I'm glad you're still in there." He paused for dramatic effect, looking her up and down slowly before continuing.

"But your rage is misplaced. I shouldn't be the target of your anger, and I certainly won't tolerate the disrespect." Talia felt the heat in her blood began to simmer down, and fear crept into her mind once more. "I won't punish you, of course - that would hardly be effective."

This much is true, the young warrior thought. She had been through plenty of training against torture, and was not worried about her uncle inflicting it upon her. Though she knew torturing the weak was one of his favorite pastimes, Talia would not give the reactions that she knew he lived for. She knew that he would know that as well, so she wondered what he could possibly do in retribution. He had already sided against all those that she cared about in the war, so she thought it could be nothing that wouldn't be coming anyway. All that said, Yago was an expert at the mental games and torture that Talia did fear. He was known to inflict great damage on the psyche of his victims, which was something that Talia did fear. Of course, he's already done that to me before too.

"Instead, we'll look to those around you," Yago droned on. "While you were out, your sleep talk was very interesting. The combination of drugs we used puts the user in a very... compliant state." Talia's blood ran colder, and she wondered what she could have possibly said. "Who is Mikhail, Talia?"

The girl's thoughts turned towards the handsome blacksmith's son, who had always cared for and served her. They had been companions since their infancy, and Talia knew that Mikhail cared for her on more than just a friendly level. Talia had never allowed herself to get close to him, despite his attractive features and nurturing demeanor. In her mind, Mikhail had always been too pure a soul to ever warrant her interference. She had always felt she did not deserve someone like him, and her presence would somehow corrupt his general good nature. Talia tried to steel her face at the name in Yago's mouth, but she could tell he had somehow read her reaction.

"Ah, good. Someone you care about. I suppose I'll have someone go after him first, then." Yago made to leave, and strolled casually out of the office space. Before he exited, he stopped to glance over his shoulder. "Watch your transgressions while you're here, you little bitch."