The Innocence of Teacups

Their cart stood outside the church and he loaded bundles onto the back, while inside, Freyr packed their possessions into the bundles. Freyr wanted to take him some place special, only what or where this place was never got mentioned. He guessed being at the church where Lev knew they lived was a risky place to spend the remainder of the summer.

Pausing a moment he placed a hand against Silver’s neck as Freyr came out from the church with a new bundle. Trust him to decide to take a quick break when Freyr was checking up on his progress. Wow they must be in some parallel universe seen as those bundles were getting placed neatly into the cart and he was allowed his break.

“These are the last ones unless you have anything hidden away in your attic,” Freyr said and sat on the edge of their cart, admiring the church.

“I wish you’d tell me where we are going.”

“It is time I went home. We went home,” Freyr said in a low tone.

He squeezed onto the cart, in between some bundles. “Where is home? I thought we just had this place in summer.”

Freyr jumped up. “It’s a grand house. I am sure you will like it.”

There was something seriously weird going off here, scary weird. He looked behind his shoulder at Freyr who was seating himself up front of the cart then shook the reins to tell Silver to walk on. A bad feeling was twitching in his stomach about their trip to Freyr’s home he’d never heard mentioned until now.

He drew his knees up to his chest as Silver pulled the cart along a thin country lane, with hedgerow on either side. Sometimes the lane was so narrow a branch would sweep across his cheek. They were enclosed and the closer they got to Freyr’s house the twitchier his stomach became. They’d been on the road for five days and were minutes away from their destination. He’d noticed Freyr’s hands were clutching tightly into the reins which made him wonder negative thoughts on top of the ones already in place.

“I don’t understand why we’re going to a house you’ve never taken me to in my fourteen years of being in your company. You’ve certainly never mentioned your home to me before.”

Freyr forced his lips into a smile. “And I don’t understand why you’re so distrusting.”

“Because you never told me you were a lord or sorcerer. I know your mannerisms Frey; I can tell there is something more to your house than you let on. Have you stolen the deeds?”

“Relentless pestering!” Freyr flared up and flung his hands from the reins.

He caught those reins quick before they ended up trailing a long on the floor. “Your house is obviously a touchy subject.”

Freyr snatched the reins back. “Your house would be a touchy subject too if your whole family were murdered there.”

“Oh.”

“Yes very well oh. Now if you don’t mind I’d rather not hear another word on the subject.”

Discreetly he nudged closer to Freyr. “Maybe you ought to talk about it seen as we’re going to the house.”

“Stop being sentimental. My family have been dead a good twenty five years.”

“That’s really sad Frey.”

“Not so sad as your sorry life. At least I knew who my family were.”

He knew who his family were, even if the only member refused to admit to being family; that was the sad part.

They rounded a corner and were met with fields upon fields. In one of those fields stood a grand manor house with some woods as its back garden. How secluded and large. Did Freyr own all those fields? If he did they were going to waste, for the grass was all brown and crispy. No cows or sheep grazed on these fields.

“If we were to carry on down the lane we’d end up in Haycroft which happens to be full of farm traders. I’m afraid you’d find the village rather dull,” Freyr said as he pulled off the lane into a field.

With the field being so dried up it was easy enough for Silver to keep on walking with cart in tow, even if the ride was bumpy. He stared down at the ground as they left the grass and arrived on what looked like a drive. Problem being the once white stone was all cracked. Through the cracks massive weeds grew. His heart sank and he crossed his fingers hoping he was not going to be made to pull up all those weeds while Freyr sat pretty on the porch watching him with a sweet cup of tea. The drive happened to be bumpier than the grass. So much so he was holding onto this seat.

As they got closer to the house he noticed all the windows were shattered and downstairs shutters were hanging off their hinges while the upstairs ones were scattered in splinters on the floor. The porch steps were smashed through. There was no front door. He jumped down from the cart and peered into the gaping great hole where the door was supposed to be. Inside was un-naturally dark. Freyr came and gave a tug at his shoulder, making him step away from the front entrance.

“Kids must have been using your house as a party spot,” he said.

“I doubt it.” Freyr held up a hand telling him to stay then he disappeared inside.

Commanded to stay like some hound he propped himself up against the door frame and waited. He was waiting a long time. The suns were shifting past each other; they always went past each other before setting. A bright sensation zapped through him, making him feel as though he were glowing. He stared at his hands, they were not glowing. With those hands he shielded his eyes and looked up towards the suns.

Stared. Transfixed.

The suns were aligned. Wow. Never had he seen the suns with the small one directly in front of the larger one before. Made him think of moons aligning. A coincidence hopefully. Fingers crossed it was coincidence or Sasha might get dragged off to the in-between one day. He stood admiring the suns a good two minutes before they moved on by each other. With that spectacle over he turned to look inside the house.

“Freyr, you okay in there?” he called. When no answer came he took himself into the house. “Freyr?” Still nothing. He need not go much further inside for Freyr was stood right by the door, staring into darkness.

. So dark. He edged his feet carefully onto the parlour, stepping on cracked tiles, wanting to explore. Freyr grabbed his elbow, pulled him back. The air was heavy.

“Are you alright?”

All he got in response were some deep breaths.

“I am sure we can clean your house up together.” He took a daring step over to Freyr so they were stood side by side. “And I do mean together. Don’t think I’m sweeping up and dusting everything while you sit counting your coins.”

A blow of a laugh came through Freyr’s nose. “We’ll see. What reason have I ever given for you to be kind to me?”

“You try,” was the only answer he could find.

“I do try, don’t I?” Freyr straightened up from the loose door frame he was leant against. “My hands aren’t so clean but what man’s are? I get us by. Right yes we are going to clean up this manor house, and it will be the talk of Kazara.”

Oh gosh was Freyr cracking up? You rarely got sentiment out of him, he despised it, and there he went spouting it.

“Right, I’ll see to Silver, while you find out a broom. I’m sure I packed one.”

One there best be more than one broom. He went rummaging on the back of their cart in search of a broom or two. They sure owned a lot of stuff. Kind of owned most of it needed selling on. This autumn they would be specialising in cheap jewellery, all spruced up to appear and feel like real diamonds and emeralds rather than coloured glass. He was looking forward to the coming autumn because Freyr promised he could barter with customers rather than constantly be working behind the scenes.

“You know what forget the broom,” Freyr said on coming back from rubbing down Silver.

He crawled from within the mountains of bundles and sat on the edge of the cart, Freyr stood by him and seemed to be watching the southern sunset. There was two to pick from: you could either watch the eastern or western sun. The western was always brighter but today they seemed to have an equal glow. Curious he kept his gaze on the eastern sun wondering what had caused it to shine brighter.

“While you were in the house the suns aligned. Does that mean anything?” Freyr busied himself with some bundles, came out with a jam jar and loaf of bread as though not hearing his question; more like avoiding the question altogether. “Does it mean anything?”

“You and your moons and suns.” Freyr found a bread knife and waved the blade about as he spoke. “You should be a star gazer. I’m sure there are lessons somewhere to do with constellations in Kazara. A subject for nerds I presume.”

“I’m being serious Frey, the suns did align today.”

“I never said they didn’t. I’m saying they have nothing to do with magic. Moons, suns, and stars align all the time; it is but a natural order of events.”

“I never mentioned magic.”

“But you’re thinking about it.” Freyr cut up some bread.

“So how does magic work?”

“Energy mostly. Now how about we take our evening meal into the woods? And no more talk of magic it tires me terribly. Buy a book if you want to learn how magic works.”

“There aren’t any books on magic in our country, it’s forbidden.”

Freyr gathered his sliced bread into a cloth then shoved it into his hands. “Then you ought to have bought one when you were in Zoticas.”

“You never paid me my wage yet. It’s something we still need to discuss properly,” he called on gathering up the jam jar, and running after Freyr.

“Indeed we do, over our meal I think.”

When in the woods under a shield of thick leaves goose pimples pricked up on his skin. He rolled down his sleeves wishing his cloak wasn’t packed away. The sky was darkening when they found a place to sit for their dinner. Freyr lounged against an oak tree while he sat cross legged munching away at bread and jam. They spoke about his wage. He was promised to get five silver pieces at the end of every week, with room for commission if he made some high sales. Good, having money in his pocket without having to ask meant he’d have heaps more freedom. It was hard to believe he’d gotten through to Freyr, making him see he refused to be dictated.

Once done eating they walked further into the woods where they came across a stone altar. He lingered away from the altar wondering what purpose it had served whilst Freyr went to have a close inspection, walking round the grey slab ever so slowly, running his finger along its edge.

Freyr knocked on the altar. “Rock solid.”

He went a little closer as Freyr sat on the altar to admire a cloudy sky. “Do you think people got sacrificed or tortured where you’re sitting?”

“It’s hard to tell.”

“Were your family into that kind of thing?”

“Not that I know of. Sacrifices are rather vampyre-esque.”

“I don’t think so. Seen as you don’t see vampyres anymore isn’t it possible we sacrificed them through terror?”

“Chopping off vampyre heads is hardly sacrificial it’s more like extermination.”

“Exterminating vampyres was wrong.”

“Come explain yourself.” Freyr patted a place next to him on the altar. “What’s so wrong about killing off blood suckers?”

With slight caution he sat on the altar. “If they did drain human blood it’s not much different from you or me eating meat from a pig. Pigs can’t exterminate us meaning there is a natural balance. There is no natural balance with vampyres; they are gone which makes me feel sad.”

“So, you’re saying you would like to live in a world where you could meet a vampyre on the lane and get slaughtered for no good reason?”

He supposed that was exactly what he was saying. After all hadn’t he killed Lanzo, and Violet Town’s mayor for no good reason? He need not comment further seen as Freyr knew from his expression he was thinking yes I would like to live in a world where I could meet a vampyre. What Freyr was unaware of was he’d already met a vampyre and in his own way Alaric was pleasant enough.

Freyr was really observing the sky. Well the clouds made pretty patterns. As fascinating as the night sky was the air was chill. He wanted to get inside in case he froze over. He made to get down from the altar and Freyr clasped a hand round his wrist. A moment later there was a click. Manacled.

“Very funny Frey.” He shook his arm making the chain fixed to the altar jingle.

“Not really,” murmured Freyr.

“No it’s not so undo me.” He tried to prise the manacle off with his free hand alas it was a tight fit.

“We can’t enter my house because it’s plagued with demons. They come to life at night.”

“So why are we here?”

“I’ll never leave you.”

“Freyr,” he tried to sound calm but something in his master’s tone was making his heart pound. That was without mentioning Freyr’s eyes which were shrouded with a kind of madness as he watched the sky. “Please undo me from this altar, it’s creepy.” Some clouds started parting. The moons were trying to hide behind them. Moons! He tugged at the chain as Freyr turned to him. Those moons were aligning.

“Almost time.”

“Time for what?”

“Only a demon can kill another demon.” Freyr’s hands grasped hold of his shoulders and he pushed down on him, forced his back onto the altar. He shoved back but Freyr was too strong. “I’ll never leave you. Protect you. I promise.”

“Freyr, whatever you’re intending to do please don’t.” He gasped as he watched clouds drifting apart to reveal more of the moons. “What are you doing?” Maybe his master’s brain finally flipped.

“Don’t make this difficult,” rasped Freyr.

“Make what difficult?”

“I don’t want to.” Freyr glared behind him, up at the moons which got more visible with every passing second.

“Then don’t. Let me up. Please.”

Freyr’s grip got gentler. He felt the rate of his heart slow down.

“I shouldn’t, I really shouldn’t, but I need my home. I’ve always needed it.” His grip re-intensified. “This is what I took you for.”

“Please please please,” was the last thing he yelled as luminous moonlight directly hit him. His whole body tensed and eyes bulged. He tried to thrash about, anything to get off the altar but couldn’t move. Freyr need not hold him down any longer but carried on doing so anyway.

First his lips cracked then flaked away this was followed by his arms, torso, legs, head. All flaking and shredding then burning as though acid had been thrown on him. He screamed as his hands and feet hooked over into claws; bone distorting. Crack, membrane crashed through his back, and spine stretched to form a tail. His head seared as horns jutted out while his nose caved in.

His brain was on fire and... who was he again? He was someone but who? Must kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. He was someone. Bloody someone... blood blood blood...

“Get off him you monster,” someone shouted and bashed into Freyr knocking him over.

That someone’s cloak was thrown over him, blocking the moonlight.

Blood blood blood bloody Eagle. Hell for a moment he thought his mind had floated away into moonbeams never to be heard of within his head ever again. He gasped as he lay under a cloak repeating his name over and over to himself inside his head. Eagle. Eagle. Eagle. Eagle. Eagle. Eagle. Eagle. Eagle. Eagle.

“How could you?” The shouting came from a voice he recognised as Sasha’s. Why would Sasha be here? Lovely and dark under the cloak. “I said how could you?”

“He’s mine,” spat Freyr.

“Exactly why you had no right. That kid trusted you and you’ve turned him demon.”

“He was always half demon.”

“No way. Demon would only come through if tonight’s moonlight touched him. You made damn sure that happened.”

Something goes smack as though Sasha thumped Freyr in the face. He shivered suddenly cold. Now what? He had claws instead of hands. Possibly this shivering was in fact shudders from shock. His own master had purposely turned him demon. Freyr made him this way. It all fit now why Freyr took him in. Selfish selfish bastard. He tugged at the manacle with a muscled ropey arm or was it classed as a leg?

“Sasha, I think we better get out of here,” said Kalama.

“But Eagle’s...”

“Not Eagle anymore. We were too late that thing’s a fully fledged demon.”

“It’s quite safe he’s chained,” said Freyr.

Not anymore. Chain snapped. He clawed at the cloak glad to see the moons behind the clouds. Everyone backed off and stared at him.

“What have I done?” Freyr moaned, as though realisation just hit, and grabbed a tree for support.

“Did he honestly think he could control a demon?” whispered Kalama as she drew her sword.

He couldn’t even look at Freyr. Betrayed. Hurt and totally betrayed. He ought to send those sharp claws through his face but could only hold up what had used to be a hand and stare. More claw than paw. He swayed on the altar.

“Saaa-s-s-sha.” Kalama nudged Sasha attempting to move him away from a black void which suddenly materialised in front of him. Sasha stared at this oval void while backing off from it.

In that second the spirit’s voice sounded out in his mind: Kill Freyr when our moons align to free Sasha and yourself. He’d ignored what the spirit told him and now he was a demon and something wretched was about to happen to the Sapphire Knight.

Twelve arms reached out the void, snatched at Sasha, who turned and ran. The void drifted after him.

He sprang off the altar. Tore towards Sasha on all fours, wanting to help somehow. Kalama screeched and took a swing at him but missed.

“Eagle!” shouted Freyr sounding as crazy as ever and chased after him. He tried to scream curses in response but the only noise which came out was a snarl. Apparently, demons did not have speaking voices.

Hands clawed round Sasha dragging him into the void. Without any thought he jumped into the void, spreading his wings, and followed spirits dragging off the Sapphire Knight evilness knew where.

“Eagle come back. PLEASE,” were the last words he heard from the world he’d come from.