Nurturer of Nightmares

Unknown

Three-Hundred Years Earlier…

The fire within the hearth crackled loudly, popping as it spat another cinder out onto the carpet, and I beat it out with my slippered foot casually, glancing up from the page of my eagerly awaited book and murmuring, “It’s growing late.” It was nearing the early hours of morning, although the sky outside was still dark, and would remain so until the sun rose to melt the snow from the Lake Palace Territory- Our territory, as it had been for centuries.

My Connected lifted his head from his own ledgers, Syrphien and Selphien’s future funds written in neat numbers, categorised through three funds: Future, Present and Allowance, and mumbled in reply, “I know, but this needs to be done…” He wasn’t wrong, as usual, and I groaned, running my face down my hands before turning back to my book. It had arrived two days ago, but with Selphien now beginning practice with her magic, I hadn’t had the time to read it through. My best friend, Lady Delila, had recommended it, claiming that the ending was ‘spectacularly surprising’. I was only thirty pages from the ending now, my excitement growing, and my Connected smiled, brushing his mind against mine.

“I love that about you,” he said under his breath, “Always getting excited for books.”

“Mm…” I couldn’t bring myself to utter more of a reply than that, the final battle between good and evil reaching its breaking point, the main character launching into their final stand as they faced their greatest and most elusive enemy, and- Downstairs, a window shattered, the sound of glass scattering across the throne room making my Connected jump up, his hands sparkling. I rose, placing the book aside and whispering fearfully, “The Commander?”

The Commander was the Lake Palace’s finest general, or he had been, until he’d continuously asked for my young daughter’s hand in marriage.

When he had ignored the repeated orders to stop, since it was making everybody in the house uncomfortable, my Connected had stood, and in front of the entire court, including The Commander, ordered Selphien to never, EVER be alone in a room with The Commander, before banishing him from the court permanently. He could remain in the Lake Palace Territory, but he would no longer have his position, or power, here. He’d threatened to return and simply take Selphien for himself, and a few days later there had been whispers around the court of a curse placed on my family, the nursemaid having found a black magic doll in front of my husband and I’s bedroom door.

We’d burnt it, hired a Magical Shaman to bless the Palace grounds, and then gone about our days, my Connected increasing the number of Guards around the Palace.

“Go to the kids and then head to the carriage. We’ll spend a few days in the holiday home.”

I gulped, nodding, praying The Commander didn’t reach their bedrooms before I could, and my Connected opened the door, his magic weaving through the corridors. Downstairs, the shouts and screams of pain from our soldiers could be heard, growing nearer as The Commander and whoever was with him reached the bottom of the stairs leading up to this floor, and I felt the breath leave my lungs. If he made it up here, there would be only one flight of stairs between him and my children. I slipped through the doorway, running for the stairs that would lead up to our children’s bedrooms, screaming, “Syrphien, Selphien! Stay where you are, sweethearts!”

‘There’s dozens of them!’ My Connected snapped, ‘He’s brought a Heaven-damned army! They’re claiming they’re a revolutionary group.’

‘Oh, Heaven above… Stay safe!’ We didn’t have the resources to hold back an army! There was nothing we had that could hold them back!

I couldn’t take the stairs quick enough, it seemed, but between one blink and the next, I was standing on the next landing, gripping it tightly with one hand, the other falling to my stomach, the Seedling connection fluttering with my panic at the sight of The Commanders soldiers searching each and every room, unsure of which ones belonged to the Crown Prince and Princess of the Lake Palace.

We hadn’t seen if it was a boy or girl yet, hadn’t even told Syrphien and Selphien of their little sibling.

If they were there, safe in their rooms, I would. I would tell them the second we cleared the Palace and were fleeing for the holiday home, just so they had SOMETHING to be excited about.

Ducking low to avoid detection, I used the furniture scattered around the hallway to hide from the soldiers. I had no magic of my own, the Seedling connection having used almost all of it today, and with only a dagger on me, I had nothing to fight off the sharp swords of the army. Before I could run to Syrphien’s door, the closest bedroom to my own, I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder, blood bubbling out.

‘Are you alright?!’ My Connected’s voice slammed into my mind, full of pain, and I pressed my hand into the wound, mouthing a swearword, the blood making my fingers slick. It would be fatal if not treated…

‘I’m fine. Are you?’

A door opened just as I crouched behind a small, decorative table, wincing in pain, and I heard Selphien scream in fear, a glass vase exploding in the hallway, thrown by her. The female soldier stood in the doorway, her voice crackly as she purred, “Aw, little Royal children… How sweet... I bet your blood is just as sweet as you look.” The soldier marched in, gripping her by the back of her nightgown and dragging her out, whistling loudly- a signal for others to come. Two doors down, near me, a similar scene was occuring with Syrphien, my eldest child able to put up a stronger fight than his little sister.

It didn’t matter- he was a child still, a boy, and the two men who were dragging him out were twice his size already.

They dragged him into the hallway, and I noticed with a small, panic-induced smile that he was wearing normal clothes instead of the pyjamas he had dressed in a few hours ago, clearly intending to sneak out to see one of his friends, perhaps Tarlien and Litia. The smile fell from my face when the soldiers slammed their fists into his face, trying to knock him out. My child, my dear, oldest child, spat on them, still struggling to reach Selphien, seemingly uncaring of whether he lived or died, just so long as he could reach her. He had always cared more about her. He’d doted on her from the day she had emerged from her flower and my Connected and I had carried her home to the sounds of a Festival raging in the street, our people celebrating their new Princess’ birthday.

There’s no description for the fear a parent feels when their children are in danger, no amount of grief or hopelessness to be spared when they realise there is nothing to be done, and I felt all of it barelling into me. I could not hold back five soldiers anymore than my children could.

But just like there is no description for that panic, there are also no words to explain the extent you will destroy yourself to try and save those same children. There were so many options glittering before me, some of them terrible, others mere wishes for the best outcome; I could run, leaving them behind. I could hide here and risk watching them kill my children while I waited for my Connected to come save us, or I could throw myself at those soldiers and attempt to kill them all with a single dagger.

I knew the answer I would choose; it didn’t change even when Syrphien locked his eyes back onto me and screamed for me to help him. There was only one choice, in this situation, in any good parent’s mind: I had to save them. I just had to reach them, and then we could run. No matter how impossible it seemed, or hopeless, I had to shove aside the knowledge that I knew it could not be done, that all three of us would die in this hallway, and try. If we died, at least we would be together, and I could assure them that I was here for them, even in our next lives.

The man forced Selphien to kneel, Syrphien screaming obscenities at the soldiers that normally would have gotten him a grounding, and I threw myself to my feet just as the top of The Commander’s head appeared over the stairs on the other side of the hallway, a sharp, bright sword in his hand.

Barelling for Selphien, my footsteps ringing out, I heard the soldiers shout a warning, and then- I felt it, the sword that pierced me at the same time my Connected had been wounded a second time downstairs, a fatal coincidence, my hand flying up to my mouth to stop the blood from bubbling out, the wounds in my gut and chest both equally as deadly as the other. One would have been enough to kill me, so two... The soldier who had gutted me retracted his sword, kicking me as I fell, Syrphien and Selphien screaming.

I dug my fingers into the ground, trying to crawl to her, the air frozen in my throat, and The Commander reached the top of the stairs.

I knew not what he said to either of them, my hearing muffled as though I were underwater, but I could see Syrphien still screaming at them, lashing out with his fists. He had started training a few weeks ago, and had only learnt the basics, but he was utilising it, throwing his very soul into fighting. For a moment, he managed to bring one of those soldiers down, and he threw himself at the next one, brawling wildly, the shouting filling the hallway. Strong, powerful, passionate. He’d make a good King.

The Commander’s magic lashed outwards, gripping Syrphien’s arms, allowing the soldiers to pin him down, before he grabbed Selphien.

He twisted her on the floor, turning her to look at her brother, who was crying for her, and I reached a trembling, bloodied hand out, knowing it was useless. He lifted the blade, a weak whimper falling from my lips, a cry of hatred from Syrphien’s, and then there was a slice that cut through air and flesh alike, Selphien screaming in agony.

My eyes drifted shut at the same moment the edge of my daughter’s wing brushed the floor…