Inside the tent of the commander.
"How bothersome'' The commander muttered under his breath. Harriet, who had been staring at the dreary surrounding was finally at his mercy.
Heat rushed up to her face as she could feel him emanating a throttle glare. Tiny tremors racked her hands and legs as she fibbed on the ground.
"I told you never to show your face" Malachi's words fell on the shell of her ears. She quickly answered, being aware of his savvy personality "I didn't mean to."
"But you did." She gasped, hearing the underlying intent behind his remarks. She knew she wouldn't be able to clarify senses into the man's head and scouted the large parlor for a weapon, at least. On the whole surface, a frown settled on her forehead. The chamber was uncommonly extravagant to be created in the middle of a forest and yet there were no protective weapons. If she could obtain a tool, she could finally breathe with mitigation.
"I-I was lost."
"In the forest? The more I try to understand you, little mouse, the more I get baffled, myself. Are you ready to give up your life, leaving your parents?" Malachi demanded
He was sitting behind his desk, behind his mask, watching the tumult of the child. For all as it may be, he had already anticipated this. He wondered if she was that person the priest spoke about.
Harriet shifted on the cold floor; her eyes narrowed. She replied,
"I was chased by monsters. They tried to kill me" She quivered at the sight of those men tearing the fleshes of those passengers and sizzling.
Malachi finally released her of his deathly gaze and took her information to notice. There was a swarm of anger twisting across his eyes – one that could bring any man to their knees. He took to his feet, gently pushing the chair backward. He could sense the fear of the child in the air, and for some bizarre reason, his heart suddenly opened – something that had never happened.
Now, he was sure she was from the useless prophesy. The one to save his soul? How could anyone save him? He desired not. Doom was before him, and he would gladly embrace it.
"I question your story. There are no monsters as you claim here, in Heathmoor. Do you realize where you are? In the King's land," He sighed before his nose picked up the scent of honeysuckle in the room. His brows crinkled, and his nose wrested from the exorbitant smell, which as well seemed to influence his nervous system.
"I would never make a false truth. I saw them!! Those monsters, because they chased me. They did, believe me," Harriet whispered, in a distorted tone. She must have been truly shaken by the causes of death back there.
Adrenaline coursed through her body, and she backed away.
"Reason. Tell me one reason why I should believe a child" Malachi chuckled. Aggravated by him, Harriet yelled "I am not a child anymore. I am older, smarter, and most significantly, not a liar. I speak the truth and only the truth. My bruises do too"
Nodding his head in understanding, Malachi commented, "Bruises are the mirror to an attack, true. However, they could also be a reflection of stupidity. It is good for one to be brave, especially a child, but foolishly brave? I object" His sturdy footsteps trampled to her side, rendering Harriet shrink.
"What?" Harriet turned to meet his gaze.
Her eyes fell on the gothic mask, running the lane to the scar in his eye.
She curiously gathered her wits and followed the deep scar, traveling from his eyebrows, down to his lashes, and then to his cheek. Malachi only watched her, before he revealed his thoughts "You find them repulsive too."
Harriet briskly cleared her throat and remove her eyes from his to the ground. She immediately shook her head and replied "My father had one. He said it signified hard work and pain. It must have hurt a lot, right?"
Malachi scoffed "Hurt? I am not your father."
Harriet reprimanded herself in her mind for giving too much information about her life to the stranger. Though he had helped her back then, he was not someone important in her life. She barely knew him, and the last she could grasp, he tried to slit her throat with his sword. She shouldn't have spoken to him. At the very least, his companion was better. She wondered when he would be back from getting water.
"Look at me" Malachi ordered her.
"Why? I owe you nothing" Harriet countered, not daring to meet his eyes ever again.
"Nothing? You dear, little mouse does owe me something. Your life"
"What?"
"You let a person escape for your foolish presence."
"Who? Was it that man – the one from Aetherwatch? Why was he here?"
"No more questions!" Malachi snapped, and at the same time, his fingers traced to her bruises before he lifted her chin, so she could look into his eyes. Harriet wanted to refute, but after receiving a harsh glare from him, she reconsidered and forcefully stared into the depth of his eyes as well as his soul. Harriet became spellbound.
"Your carelessness is going to cost your life," he told, studying the skittishness in her pair of rare dark-gray eyes.
"I am sorry" Malachi was blown away by her unusual apology. His brows were furrowed in surprise, and a light smirk crept on his face.
"And I thought you feared nothing" He sighed, while his eyes bored, traced over her face, to her pale bruises, before he laid a keen look at her blonde hair. He frowned silently when his eyes fell on the visible brightened color of her hair. Holding her chin in place, tighter than it was, he was close to raking his fingers into the hair, when he heard no heartbeat from the child. As he withdrew back, her body swayed and fell in his arms.
At that moment, Sir Dante arrived, only to be met with the horrifying sight,
"You – You killed her?"
"No, I didn't. She is not dead, just tired" Malachi explained, leaving the body to the ground.
"Just tired you brute!! She must be cold and scared. Can't you care for a child? Oh Lord, I pity the spouse of this man" Sir Dante thundered inside the tent and carried the girl off the cold floor. When he touched her, he realized she was burning, and began throwing curses at the indifferent commander.
"How old are you, bullying a child!"
------
The following day, when Harriet woke up, she met herself in a foreign room, just like the one in the Lord's house. She stretched her arms and yawned, feeling a little dizzy. Just then, a man sauntered into the room, carrying a trolley of soup. When their eyes met, Harriet relaxed.
"Ah, you are awake. Did you sleep well?" Sir Dante smiled cheekily. Harriet nodded her head.
"That's good. You can have the soup then" he said, dropping the trolley to the bed, which was facing the girl.
"About last night…" Remembering what transpired, Harriet felt she ought to exemplify this man better since the other one had ended her fainting.
"No worries. I believe you" Sir Dante told. Feeling elated, Harriet nodded again.
"You should have the soup and rest some more. Feel at home" Before Harriet could thank him, he had exited the room.
Harriet stared at the bowl of soup for a long time. She growled lowly at the sight and a grim expression formed on her face. Considering the austere experience from the previous night, she didn't dare lift her hand and take a sip from the soul.
What if it was poisoned?
What if it was drugged?
She restricted her movement, and fell back down on the bed, thinking about her parents. She once had a terrible nightmare, where they both deserted her alone in the world of monsters. If they wished to leave, they should take her as well. Life was better with them, and very soon, she would come to them.
Outside the tent.
"What do you think you are doing? Do you think this place is an inn? Or a tavern?" Malachi clenched his jaws. He was frustrated to have been sent away from his tent, only to sleep in a smaller one. He was annoyed now because of his right-hand man. Taking a portion of their meal to the girl, without his permission.
Sir Dante rolled his eyes "Try to socialize, my boy. You are too cold."
"Your boy? Who's your boy?" Malachi drew his sword out, impassively, ready to strive the man.
"Calm down. She is awake"
The other knights understood their boundaries not to stem the commander and could only overlook the side.
"She is going to be a headache. Did you see her defile me that day? She's foolish."
"No, she's lonely."
"Everyone is lonely."
"She is a child."
"I was too."
"But you are a man now. A strong man."
"She is not weak."
"She is"
"I AM NOT WEAK" The commander and his right-hand man turned their heads to the tent, and saw the girl, standing firm, with her hands fisted to the sides. The other knights cocked their heads to see the child properly.
"I am not weak." Harriet clarified to them. While she felt drowsy, she heard the controversy outside and knew it was about her. At first, she ignored the conflicts, until the mention of her being weak.
She detested that word the most. To be called wimpy. She has been trying her best for the past two years not to be weak, and it worked. The master she had lived with, trained her and helped her build confidence. Even his other students were envious of her strength.
How come these people were still calling her weak? How dare they?
"Y-You should be resting" Sir Dante broke the silence as he explained to her, telling her to return to bed.
"I want to leave."
"Uh?"
Harriet repeated, "I want to leave this damn place." screaming.
Sir Dante paused. He was above dumbfounded by her sudden outburst. He tried to make the commander order her, but the man was pleased she had a little logic and probed "You are welcome to leave. Go there and die."
"Sir"
"You will remain silent, Sir Dante. She wishes to die, then let her. What relationship do you share with her? None!"
"I told you she was foolish."
"I am not" Harriet argued. She seethed her teeth, drawing her sights to his. "I am not foolish, on the contrary, I am strong. Stronger than you can imagine. You don't know me or my accomplishments."
"What are your accomplishments then? By being…FOOLISH! YOU ARE IRRATIONAL"
The commander had become infuriated.
"I said I am not" Anger fueled her gaze, and all she could envision was his death. She bent lower to the ground, and picked up a large gravel, before tossing the quantity to his face. In the process, his mask became loose, and blood enthused down heavily from his forehead to the hideous scar that was hidden.
Gasp and horror encased the eyes of the beholders.
Harriet too was shocked. That much blood?
"Come here" Sir Dante pulled the girl's wrist and dragged her back into the tent. Making sure she had fallen asleep, forcing her to take the soup, which was drugged, he rushed out, but the commander had disappeared.
------
Aetherwatch.
At the center of the town.
The counsels were gathered in the courthouse dictating what should be done in the town. A series of murders, especially of women had been reoccurring every night. The counsels, also known as the Guilds of Peace, mainly consisted of five humans and six creatures of the land.
Revisiting the house, was General Philip who had sustained wounds, and was straggling into the courtroom.
Banners of beige color were raised from the ceiling to the ground, and a single chandelier was hung. Eleven seats occupied the room, but one overshadowed the others, which happened to belong to the leader.
"How did a vampire get injured?" One of the counsels, an elderly vampire enquired, his eyes red and fangs itching to be free.
"My Lords, this loyal knight here failed to conquer Heathmoor as Aysgarth have reached the land" He reported. Amongst the counsels, Lord Sinclair resided. He was wearing a black coat and black trousers. His hair was sleek to the back, his face features stoic.
"You are incompetent to your job, Sir Philip. Do it right" Lord Sinclair thundered. As one of the strongest vampires, the rest of the room feared him.
General Philip immediately bowed his head in defeat. He pleaded "My first mistake, my Lord. Give me more political power to destroy the Aysgarth"
Lord Sinclair hissed "And what power?"
One of the counsels, from the human side, brought up "Why are the Northerners there? Aren't they puppets of the King?"
"They are" Another counsels member muttered,
"My Lord, it is more of a request," General Philip said.
"What request?"
"To take into hiding?" The general mentioned.
"What?" Lord Sinclair vaulted to his feet, his face strained and outraged.
"To run cowardly away from your duties. Would a request as that be granted?"
General Philip shook his head, and quickly explained "No, my Lords? I do not mean to run. On the contrary, I meant this in a strategized way. Pretend to run, while working on the battle" He batted his eyes to his elder brother.
"Work on the battle? Elaborate" Lord Sinclair sat back down on his seat, waiting for the explanation.
"It will be announced to them that General Philip cowardly retained from his duties, whereas he is busy turning cowardness into opportunities." General Philip asserted; his expression filled with confidence.
"We can only be victorious when we act canny."
"Really?"
The other members began to speak amongst one another.
"All right, then do what it takes to overcome Heathmoor"
-------
In the Sinclair Manor.
"My Lord, you are back" Butler Timothy cried, tailing Frank from the back.
"The Lady, how is her health?" He took his gloves off and handed them to the butler. Butler Timothy, on the other hand, swiftly collected the gloves and informed "The physician came by early in the morning to check for any progress in her health, but my Lord I am sorry, it is still the same. No movement"
Lord Sinclair sighed "I see" He was disappointed.
"How about the search for the girl? No clue yet?" He asked, his expression wary.
"Not yet. It's like she disappeared into thin air."
"Or she no longer resides in the town anymore" The Lord murmured.
"Sorry?"
"Get Emine, Agnar and Joseph. We will be leaving this place by noon."
"Yes, my Lord" The butler vamoosed.
Lord Sinclair strode to his room and sat at the edge of the bed, as he continuously watched his woman being confined to that place, without blinking, speaking, or moving. Two years ago, after that night, his wife had received the greatest traumatization. She had been heartbroken by her child's flight. Even after the birth of Joseph, their son, she never recovered.
"Mary, I will find her soon. I promise" He traced his fingers to her blue lips and sighed.
"Please, recover for your son's sake. He needs a mother, right now. Please. I miss your voice so much. I miss your laughter. Your anger. Everything. Please be well."
The woman on the bed remained unmoving, with her eyes closed, but a single tear escaped her eyes, which was unnoticed by the sad man.
Her daughter. Her Harriet. Where was she?