"You cannot sacrifice one who has not ascended. She is yet eleven. Why not wait a year and find out her true fate." whispered the young woman shielding a girl of not more than eleven in her arms. The girl in question was confused. She did not understand what was happening.
"Her innocence can give us the victory that we strive for. She is of childbearing age already. She cannot sacrifice her fate before the mating mark appears. It has to be her life force. Her sacrifice will complete the century. It will be the revenge that Queen Cynthia deserves. If it were not for her this entire coven would not have existed. Do not forget that sister," the older woman warned.
"I will not let you harm my daughter," the younger one challenged.
"You will be the one to drive the dagger through her heart tomorrow at midnight and that is when the royals will fall. They will fall for good." the older woman emphasized as the younger one shrieked. Her cry had enough force to shatter the glass panes of the house where they lived. The girl in her arms was afraid. She was afraid because the woman who held her, whom she knew to be her birth mother, was hysterical. Emotions were not something she had been exposed to in her eleven years of life. Witches did not show emotion and in a coven relationships meant little. Myrina had grown up being physically and emotionally abused by those around her. That is something she was used to. It had come to such a thing where a beating or a flogging seemed welcome even. It made her feel alive.
"Are they going to kill me?" she asked the older woman not out of fear, but curiosity.
Reva nodded. She was not used to emotions. She hadn't shed a tear since Cynthia died three centuries ago. She was their birth mother, a powerful witch rejected by the man she loved and sworn to vengeance against him. The war between the royals and the witches started with her.
"I am not afraid of death. It will probably be better than the life we have here," she affirmed.
Reva looked at the daughter she never nursed. Myrina was brought up by Luca, the father. In the matriarchal society the women never cared for the child after birth. It was the father's responsibility. Luca had died in the war though and now Myrina was unprotected.
"You are going to go to the market tomorrow with me and we are going to get you some wonderful clothes. You will be wearing them during the ritual tomorrow." Reva informed her daughter.
Myrina nodded. She knew that Sia's word was last in the coven. Reva would have to comply with it. They slept in the same bed that night. It was a novelty for both mother and daughter. It was the last time they would see each other though. Before long the morning came and it was time to say goodbye.
The war had taken much. The mating spell which the witches had cast three hundred years ago had taken away the powers of the royals. They could no longer control the elements as they were wont to. They were reduced from gods to blood drinking monsters. They still were stronger and faster than humans or witches but they were no longer gods. The witches couldn't destroy their powers so they locked it in a strange spell. Only when united with their destined mates, their soul mates, could the royals unlock their powers. That is what had put the war in motion. It was an attempt to force the witch's hands to undo the spell that had cursed them. Soulmates were hard to come by and it left most royals powerless.
Matthew had seen his parents in love and then had seen them wish each other dead. It was the same with all royals. The ones who were mated for life cursed each other's existence because it took away their powers. Only a few of the royals had found their soulmates and most of them were put in the forefront of the battle in the earliest of days and they died taking their mates with them.
His parents were not mates. His birth was the last miracle the royals had seen. Another part of the mating curse was that only soulmates could procreate. He was born a day after the curse was placed. If his birth had been delayed by a few months he would probably have been still-born. There had been no more births in the royal household in the last three hundred years. It was a lonely life.
Some royals had resorted to adopting humans and keeping them as pet. But humans die and the royals are very hard to kill. Matthew had not seen his father in over a decade. The battles were spread out across continents and the journey itself claimed a lot of the horses and the human slaves.
"Why are you looking so morose?" his cousin Jesse asked.
"I need a new slave. I am bored. I need company," Matthew exclaimed.
"Am I not company enough?" Jesse questioned.
"You are old. I remember the day uncle brought you home and you were a baby. You are greying now. Soon you will die of old age." Matthew complained without realizing that he was hurting his human cousin.
"Death is inevitable for us humans. But as far as getting a new slave is concerned, he too will grow old and die and the cycle continues. There are few downsides to immortality and this is one of them," Jesse commented feigning detachment.
"I am going into the market tomorrow to get a new slave. Will you come with me?" Matthew demanded.
"Your father has given the command for you to not leave the castle unless with a full regiment of royal guards," Jesse reminded him.
"You are equivalent to a full regiment. You are the best fighter I know. And I am three hundred, not thirty." Matthew spoke arrogantly.
"So be it. I will inform the gate that we are to leave early in the morning and return before lunch. Your mother is expecting us tomorrow." Jesse informed as he left.
Matthew sighed. Life surely had more to offer than never ending war and unchanging castle walls. He was waiting to find out what.