The Blood King's Bride

Calhoun and his guard, along with Firoza, made it to where his second guard stood, waiting for them with their horses. The horses neighed upon recognizing their masters, and Calhoun couldn’t help but brush his horse’s mane, petting it. His first guard stood beside him while Firoza was hiding at his back. She was still scared, as expressed by how she was hugging herself together as if expecting the dead man to attack her again.

Calhoun jumped on his horse and nudged it to a slow canter.

“You,” he said to the first guard. “She goes with you.”

The guard nodded his head, and without waiting for Firoza to understand what was happening, he carried her and hoisted her on his horse. She screamed in fear until she realized what he was doing.

Calhoun turned to look at them nonchalantly. Seeing that they were all well accommodated, he left them to their own devices and nudged his horse to a gallop.

His two guards, with Firoza, rode behind him. They all left that place in silence, taking in all the destruction that happened to the Outlaw city. Calhoun was a bit worried about what could have caused destruction that huge, leaving no one behind. They rode farther into the city, finally coming across the dead bodies of the people in that land.

Calhoun nudged his horse to go on a trot, slowly going through all the lifeless people laying on the road. The corpses were bent in weird angles, with objects sticking out of every one of them. Many of them still had their eyes open, their last expressions exposing what had happened. They all looked like the devil himself had appeared before them.

A formidable person had appeared, and he could destroy that huge a scale.

“Go check out the bodies,” Calhoun said to the second guard. The guard nodded and got off his horse. He began walking through the dead bodies, then finally he knelt before one, studying the wounds on the body. He looked at another body laying next to it and studied its wounds. The guard scrunched his face up, confused. He couldn’t understand what he was looking at.

“What’s wrong?” Calhoun asked. The guard immediately stood.

“My Lord, it appears that they all killed themselves.” The guard reported. Suddenly they all heard a stifled cry, and they turned back to look at Firoza, who was trying her best not to cry loudly.

Calhoun looked at her, then faced his guard.

“Take care of the bodies.” He commanded.

“Yes my Lord.”

“You can join him.” He said, pointing to the first guard. The guard nodded his head and jumped off his horse after ensuring that Firoza was comfortable.

The guards made their way to the corpses and removed the objects stuck in them. They carried the body to another area and placed it there when they were done. They continued this process until the corpses began piling up.

“Now that it is just the two of us, you can begin to tell me just what happened here,” Calhoun said, still facing his guards.

Firoza timidly looked up at the handsome but powerful man. She couldn’t help but be drawn to him, despite the dangerous aura he gave off. She looked up at him and studied his face. The man didn’t even look at her; she was nothing less than a spec of dirt to him, what with the way she looked. She began to comb out her hair and arrange her clothes, overly conscious of how she looked.

Once she felt that she looked manageable, she quietly began to tell her tale, remembering to dry off her tears.

“My parents were Outlaws. I was born here. Despite what people in all the four kingdoms thought of us, there were good people here. Only the strongest can survive a place like this. So our city was a place for the strong. We liked it here, thought of it as our haven. If not for the lack of water and plants, many people would not consider going back to their kingdom.”

She faced the red sky. The crimson clouds looked like they had experienced what had happened to the city, and it turned even darker, as if bleeding tears, crying for the poor people whose lives were harshly taken from them. The far and low sounds of thunder could be heard, and Calhoun looked up too, scrunching his brows.

“Yes,” Firoza said, noticing his dilemma. “It rains here. Haven’t you ever wondered how we were able to survive this long?” Calhoun looked at her.

“I have heard that it rains in a portion of the wasteland. I guess it’s this place.”

Firoza nodded her head. “My people built huge drums we can use to store water. If you walk just a bit further, you will see them. They are so big they reach up the sky. It rains here, but it’s not frequent. It’s taken months, years even, just to get a whole day of rain. I guess today is a special day. This is the second time it rained this year.” She said, a sad smile on her face.”

Calhoun looked back at the sky. Something about the atmosphere seemed familiar. His power was slowly building up as if preparing for something.

As if preparing for war.

Then Calhoun realized what he was missing. This was the wasteland, used as a battlefield for ages that the air and earth welcomed. Blood had been spilled on the earth.

“The sky is going to bleed.” Calhoun suddenly said.

“What?” Firoza asked. Calhoun nudged his horse toward his guards.

“Hurry up. We need to get out of here fast.” They nodded their heads and sped up, working thrice as fast as they had before.

“You will continue your story when we get to a safe place. Get ready, we are leaving this place.”

Firoza didn’t know what was happening, but she nodded her head in response. The thunder rolling was getting louder, and the clouds darker. Fortunately, the guards were done, and they burnt the bodies at once, then climbed unto their horses; the second alone on his horse and the first with Firoza at his front.

Calhoun immediately nudged his horse to a gallop. He ran faster than the wind itself, and his guards were right behind him. He had to get them out of that place to avoid more corpses laying on the road.

The woman came out, looking at the powerful man with his companions riding out of the dead site. Her white eyes looked up to the sky, and she grimaced.

“It has begun.”

Calhoun and his group finally reached the place where the huge drums were. They were placed beside a huge gate made from bones, both humans and animals. Calhoun couldn’t help but appreciate their creativity. Through the opened holes of the gate, he could see the outer fog. It looked thicker than the one they had passed through earlier. He reached the gate, then came down from his horse, the rolling thunder clouds quickly approaching them.

The gates were held together with a thick weight of skin that had been tied tightly to prevent the gate from being opened easily. Calhoun didn’t have the time to study how they made the gate and skin or how they even managed to tie it as tight as they did. He took out his knife and, without blinking, slashed the bind in half at once. The skin fell, and the gates swung wide open immediately.

Calhoun climbed back on his horse and rode out of the gates, entering the fog with his guards and Firoza right behind him. They went into the fog silently, the only noise being the footsteps of their horses. They noticed immediately that the air felt colder. Unlike the intense heat they had been exposed to, the cold was like a welcome embrace. The further they went, the colder it was. No one made a sound, all their focus on their surroundings and getting out safely.

Another three days passed, and they finally left the fog, farther away from the outskirts of the Outlaw city. They appeared before a dark forest, the trees so tall it reached the clouds and the sky blacker than soot. There were no stars, and the atmosphere was chilly.

At first glance, the forest looked no different from a normal Forest. Still, as they began their journey through it, they began to notice its familiarity. The tree leaves were black, the same color as the sky. Its bark was grey and had no underground root; instead, it grew atop the earth. It had no branches, and the leaves grew directly from the bark to form a connected leaf chain.

The further they went, they noticed the loud silence enveloping the forest. No single animal or insect could be found insight. Calhoun had never felt so uncomfortable in his life. His power was roaring within him, begging to be released. He didn’t know why he was reacting that way, as he hadn’t come across any spilled blood. But he knew the forest was dangerous.

He was on high alert.

First was the Outlaw city, and next was the Forest. He could only imagine what happened inside the Forest. They quietly traveled, studying their surroundings and looking out for predators.

They walked for hours before finally, Calhoun decided to call it a rest. They all dismounted from their horses, and Calhoun decided to scout the area while his guards set up tents. A small fire was lit, enough to brighten their surrounding but not alert anyone or anything. When they were all settled in, Calhoun ordered their food supply to be brought up.

“Here, take this,” Calhoun said, giving some of his portions to Firoza.

“Thank you.” She replied shyly, her head bent low. They all ate in silence, each to their thoughts.

“Can you explain exactly what happened to the outlaws?” Calhoun suddenly said.

Firoza looked at him, not expecting him to bring up the question at that time. Calhoun looked at her, silently urging her to start.

She looked around herself consciously, noticing that the guards were also listening, even though they weren’t looking at her. Forcing herself to recall the incident, she took a deep breath and started to recount her tale.

“It was just another day in the city. The people all went about carrying out their daily duties. I was in a tent with my parents. My father had just come back from hunting with a dead Oryx, our dinner for that night. My mother and I were preparing the stove at the back and just talking; she was reminiscing the days back at her kingdom when she would be eating things other than meat. She never did tell me how she ended up at the Wastelands, though.” She paused, the melancholy heavily radiating off her. Remembering that people were following her story, she cleared her throat and continued.

“My father suddenly rushed into the kitchen and told me not to go out. It just happened that a fight had broken out between our council. My mother stood up and joined him to leave the tent. I wasn’t bothered about it. Such things happened all the time in the Outlaws city. At times some people ended up dead, but then the city wasn’t a place for the weak. My parents always partook in such fights, but never supported any party. They used any way possible to get rid of the problem, even if blood had to be spilled.”

“But that day, they hadn’t returned early. The shouts were getting louder and I could hear the clashes going on outside. I went to our tent entrance to take a peep and, and...” She said, covering her mouth with her hands to stifle her cry. She closed her eyes, her tears pouring heavily as she rocked herself back and forth.

Calhoun gave her time to get her bearing but never made any move to console her. After a while, she cleaned her face with the back of her hands and continued.

“I went to our tent entrance to take a peep, and then I saw my parents fighting each other. I was shocked as I didn’t understand what had happened. They were coming at each other as if they were possessed; like they didn’t even recognize each other. I was about to go stop them when my father rammed his sword through my mother’s heart, and my mother stuck hers in his throat. They died beside each other.” She sniffed, then continued monotonously.

“I ran out screaming, wondering what had happened, then I noticed that everyone was fighting. They were all fighting themselves. I screamed for them to stop but they didn’t listen. It was like they were all being controlled, all of them possessed. They ended up killing each one of themselves, no survivors asides from me and that man.” She shivered, remembering her encounter with him.

“He met me beside the corpses of my parents and dragged me to the cave. He started beating me, blaming me for their deaths. He called me a witch, saying I was the cause since I was the only survivor. He kept on saying he wouldn’t have survived such witchery had he not been strong enough. I begged him, pleading for him to let me go. I kept on telling him that I was safe because of my parents. He never listened.” Then she looked up and faced Calhoun.

“That was when you came along.” Her eyes held a mixture of fear and reverence. Calhoun scrunched his brows, deep in thought. He had never encountered anything such as this. He had no clue or idea about who could cause something this huge and why.

One thing he knew; if this person wasn’t handled properly, no one was safe.