Helen Scheuerer [Scheuerer - War of Mist

This ones for my own kindred, Lisy and Eva.

T he kings suite was dark but for a beam of pale moonlight streaming through the window. King Arden lay in the canopied bed, pale-gold beard tipped to the ceiling as he snored softly. Ines gazed at him with distaste from where she stood naked by the glass. He had cost her much in recent months. The fool had failed to detain Henrietta Valia and Alarise Thornton. Hed let the prizes slip right through his manicured fingers, too concerned with boasting of his minor victories to see what was happening beneath his own nose. The woman shook her head and turned to look out onto the dark castle grounds.

If you want something done right, do it yourself, she muttered under her breath. Her fingers toyed with the layered necklace resting against her collarbone, a pretty gift from the infatuated king. She was fond of this piece in particular, adorned with rare jewels from lands long forgotten. It reminded her of something her mother had worn so many years before. A piece she was meant to inherit, before theyd taken her and stripped her of all her rights and belongings. The order of the high priestesses allowed no effects, no personal property, but now now she had many things to call her own.

Below, the castle maze sprawled across the grounds, and beyond the walls and gatehouse, the whole of Ellest bent to her will. It was all hers. She had taken it easily, as was her destiny. The instinct of the magic in her veins drove her to take and take, but it wasnt enough. She wanted to add to her kingdom, her collection. The need to do so raged within her, a demand, a drive to fill the gaping hole in her chest.

Then, there were those who threatened to take away all she held dear now. Tonight, along with all the other nights, the thought of them, and what they were searching for, kept her from sleep. She had begun her own search for the item they planned to use against her. The maze, the armoury, the jewel vault had all proved fruitless, but earlier in the week, shed had a breakthrough. The old library. She had felt its presence. Demanding solitude, she had locked herself away and combed through every volume the damn room held. Nothing. But she knew it was in there. And she would find it. Rheyah help the realm when she did.

She sat at the dresser, her fingers finding the silk scarves Arden had given her on its surface. These were her favourites, imported from the dark markets in Battalon. Many of her cherished trinkets were from there, though it had been a long time since shed visited herself. Looking up, she could make out the faint outline of her shaved head in the mirror and she set about wrapping the luxurious scarves around her scalp, ensuring that the soft fabric draped about her shoulders and framed her freckled face. Casimir used to do it for her, tying the silk so gently the wrap would slip from her head and he would have to start again. He had done many things for her, but he was gone now. After all she had done for him. She had shown him the light, shown him the way Oremere was meant to be ruled. She finished wrapping the scarves and stood. She would have him back soon enough.

Donning a flowing silk robe, she left the sleeping king. Arden was good for warming her bed and nothing more. A costly gamble was all he was. She would be done with him once Casimir was returned to her. Anger simmered under her skin, and her numerous powers unfurled in answer, begging to be released. Her skin crawled as they did, each type of magic at odds with the next, housed so closely together within the one host. No one knew what it was like. No one.

In the corridor, torchlight flickered and shadows danced across the walls. At one point in her life she would have been afraid to be alone in a silent, foreign castle, but not now. Now, she was the one people feared.

She walked the same path she had the night before, and the night before. Even in the corridors she could feel the presence of it. That godsforsaken thing Casimir had forged all those years ago. Something so simple and pretty, yet so full of dishonesty. She knew hed gone to the lisloiks for help. Its quiet hum was like a song to the heirs of Oremere, and to her.

The enemies of our enemies make for strong allies, she mused. The lisloik queen, Delja, was certainly an enemy. But Ines had defeated the ruthless descendant of the water goddess with toxic mist and driven her and her people from their territory in Oremere.

Now, the thing called to her. Perhaps Delja had bewitched it so. It had not been a gift for her, as Casimir had told her. The thing was not a symbol of his love for her, it was not a measure of protection. It was a weapon against her. She knew that now and clenched her jaw at the thought of it, at the thought of her Casimirs betrayal. The depth of his deceit was endless. He had aligned himself with rebels, water monsters, Valians and all manner of scum. All to take her down. He would be punished for his lies. Again and again. And this time, he would not come back from it.

Yet she could not help falling into the memory of when hed given the amulet to her. It shimmered before her, as real now as it was then

Tangled in each others limbs, behind a heavy curtain in the temple, she and Casimir whispered about their future. About Oremeres future. He was by her side now, and he would be by her side always, as she ruled the continent, the realm, as it had been destined to be ruled. As she had been destined to rule it. Though the prince was young, he was a man in ways the kings before him had never been. He saw things the way she saw them. Saw their potential.

His lips found hers again, but broke away all too soon as he pressed something cool into her palm.

Whats this? she said, turning it over between her fingers.

A gift. Something to keep you safe.

It was a necklace, an amulet of sorts. Simple and elegant with a violet stone, set in a fine silver chain. It was beautiful, but he knew she could hold no possessions, so what did it mean?

She frowned. No one can hurt me, you know that. You know that better than anyone.

I thought I did. His eyes bored into hers, his pain bright and fierce.