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“The most important quality of a Warrior is courage. Courage gives to a Warrior the wings to fly on the peaks of the fights. But courage can be confused often with foolishness by the youngest of the Shinigami’s.”
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From: “Study about the Warriors”
By: Travian Hollowcaster
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I was feeling itchy. It was an unpleasant feeling and completely nauseous in this situation, but I knew why. All the eyes were on me. Pairs of glowing eyes, each of them were gaining colors more beautiful; more captivating. I hated to be in the centre of attention. I’m not really the person to be the soul of the party, if you know what I mean. Being the centre of attention in the throne room, it was almost making me want to shift from side to side, like a naughty child. But I was past that phase of my life. I had to show maturity and self-control.
Sure, self-control. Almost I laughed. I said almost. Everyone’s faces were serious and grave in this moment, and I would give everything just to hear their thoughts. But I was sure that they were full of disapproval about me: the restive and disobedient Nightshade princess. For surely they were awaiting some kind of show, and damned to be if I was giving them one this time! They could go to hell.
The black eyes of my father were fixing me with severity, and I knew too well what he was waiting. Like a good submissive of the Emperor, I had to kneel. You won’t see this, daddy. I promised myself that I wouldn’t make a scene, but that doesn’t mean that I will be so obedient. I fixed my glance in his, facing him, and I saw a spark of fury igniting in the deep of the abysmal of his irises, which made a corner of my mouth to raise into a smirk. I am not an obedient soldier, daddy.
“Antonia” my father welcomed me when he saw that the only sign of respect that he gained from me was just a nod.
“Majesty” I answered on a cold tone.
His eyes seemed to reflect all the flames of Hell for a second, and then they regained their color, a calm and cold black. He ran a pale hand through his dark hair, making it messier than it already was. If there weren’t his eyes, so deep and threatening, I wouldn’t give him more than twenty five years. But I knew that his real age was rising at no more, no less than six hundred thirty-five years. His appearance of a young man was given by the immortal blood of our species, the mixture of demonic blood with the angelic one.
A tense atmosphere passed the throne room, like a veil cast on delirium audience, reducing everything to silence. I could hear the heartbeats, the blood roaring through their veins, the warmth emanated by the bodies of the ones near me. My eyes continued to support the cold stare of my father. I couldn’t figure what he wanted to say to me, or of what he was thinking at. He was a master at hiding behind a mask. My body was stiffening by the seconds that were passing, and my father was continuing to look at me, with who knows what thoughts passing his mind, without sharing with me something.
“Please, Lucas, Antonia, we are not at a competition of throwing fish.” I heard a deep, masculine voice, with a foolish and naïve tone.
Some voices were heard coughing discrete, probably for restraining the laughter. Feeling like the negative character in this place, I turned to the place where I heard the voice and I throw a severe glance towards Alfred Redcross, the one that dared to speak. He was an important person, with a huge power, but an idiot equally to his power.
“You wanted to say a competition of throwing glances.” I corrected him speaking with my teeth clenched, feeling a wave of irritation crossing me.
“Oh, yes, that’s what I wanted to say.”He answered with an innocent smile.
Letting my sight to slip over the throne room, I couldn’t stop myself to not admire the work that was put into arranging it. The throne room was a copy as accurate as possible of the one from the palace in Azure, the former capital city of the Arsendil that was destroyed in one of the attacks of the Dark Casters, crazy creepy guys that you wouldn’t want to meet once in your life. He wasn’t a Shinigami, but I don’t think that he has to be to destroy one of the most beautiful towns that existed in Arsendil. The huge room was decorated in the most beautiful and luxuriant colors. The walls seemed to change their color constantly, from a dark blue into a deep black, inscriptions and runes made of pure gold glowing in the light of the chandeliers made of black crystal, in which were burning many candles. The runes seemed to move, animated by a life that was only theirs, known by them, while the flashing light of the candles was describing their edges with an enviable beauty. This contrast was showing only at night, when the darkness was descending over Arsendil. The floor was formed from black marble, in which was vaguely reflecting the light of the candles. In an extremity of the vast room was a table of black lacquered wood, surrounded by soft chairs, upholstered with crimson velvet: the council’s table. Then my eyes flew to the throne. It wasn’t made of gold, nor adorned with gems. It was just a piece of black wood, artistically carved, stunningly beautiful by the simplicity that it was showing. It was upholstered with the same crimson velvet that was adorning the chairs from the council’s table. On the throne was sitting my dad: tall, majestic, proud; a figure that was imposing respect. Aligned over the wall, there were four persons that were assisting at my silent reckoning with my dad: Alfred and three generals of my father.
I retained the need to punch him a few times and I turned back to my dad, who was trying to retain his smile, although he wasn’t so successful. It was a unique sight; Lucas Nightshade wasn’t smiling so often. But I wasn’t a master at it either. Now, that he was having a greater mood, maybe he was thinking to tell me what the hell he wanted from me. I didn’t interrupt my training just to come to stare at each other just because I refuse to show some respect.
“Antonia, we were informed that were seen some traces ten miles away from the ruins of Azure. Also, they sensed Damned smell there. I would want you to go there and check out if there is any Damned in the zone.”
Finally, something useful!
From the moment I graduated from Academy, I was kept to no purpose, changing from training to night watch, like if we were doing that we would be more prepared in case of an attack, from any side it was coming. Maybe, who knows, I could’ve fight that Damned. I sympathized with the idea for a couple of seconds, until Luke destroyed my beautiful dreams with a strict order.
“If it really is a Damned there, don’t fight him. Come back here and call for back up. If he follows you, it’s perfect. And this is not a plea, Antonia.”
Stop bossing me around, I growled in my mind. But I didn’t let that to see on my face. Maybe I was the most reckless Shinigami that lived, but I wasn’t a fool. I tilted my head.
“Alright. I’m going to pick up my arms and I’ll leave for checking up. Give me the map.”
Luke got up from his throne – that I knew from experience that it was a great place to cuddle – and he gave me a map of the capital and the surrounding area, with the place where I had to go marked with a black x. I folded the map, put it in the pocket of my pants and I left the throne room with silent steps, without addressing any word to someone. Handle this, dad. They can say I’m badly educated.
I walked on the halls of the palace that was my home from the very first moment I could remember. Every place and corner was familiar to me and it was somehow… nice, I think; if I was paying attention to this kind of foolish sentimentalisms. It was true, there wasn’t any other place in which I wanted to be, besides Arsendil, but I wasn’t a lover of… anything, either. My steps were slipping silently on the black marble floors while the rays of sun were entering into the dark edifice that was the palace from Ciel, through the big windows that were wide opened. Of course, in our land, Arsendil, the light was weaker than was on Terra, or on the Angel’s Realm, that was already another story. It wasn’t dark as it was at the Demons, but it was close to that. Pictures with different Shinigami’s from my family that lived in this palace were adorning the walls, all of them with black hair, all of them with royal, serious faces; a true family of fucking leaders. The halls were branching in more halls, although, from what older Shinigami’s say, this palace is smaller than the one from Azure. It was really easy to get lost here though, if you didn’t manage to remind every hall in which you have to step; but it was my home for almost eighteen years now. It was really easy for me to find the well known way to my room.
I griped the handle of the door and I pushed it, entering inside, and my eyes flew automatically to the right corner of the room that was darker than any other place from my room, regardless of how lighted it was the room. That corner was staying always dark. However, I never sensed any presence, or aura, or negative intentions. It was like that corner was so dark just because… it had to be that way. But I knew something was there. Now I really seem crazy, as everyone was implying. Because of that corner I pushed my bed, from the middle of the room, to the left wall, having the habit to sleep with my face towards the dark corner of my room, this way offering myself a vague sense of safety, although – with the risk of repeating myself – I wasn’t feeling any danger from that place.
Ignoring the corner, I walked towards the desk and I gripped one dagger, observing, to my surprise, a piece of paper, covered with a neat handwriting; a beautiful and ordered calligraphy, with lots of turns and loops, that was making me feel like I was writing with the little finger of my left foot. I lifted the paper and I read the rows, grimacing as I read the letter.
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Antonia,
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I write this letter, not because I want something from you, but because I cannot stand to watch you without speaking with you. I cannot stand to feel your scent and not be able to kiss you. I cannot wait until the moment when you will fall in my arms and you will give me a smile, a kiss, or just a hug. That moment seems so far away that it hurts.
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I will be close to you no matter if you want a friend, a lover or a boyfriend. I will be by your side no matter what will happen with or around you. Yes, I am aware that the fight I will face won’t be easy. Your frozen feelings, your hate for what I am will keep you at distance. They will stand as an obstacle in my way of approaching you. But care not about that my beloved princess, because I am stubborn as hell.
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Yours with my heart and soul,
M.A.D
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“What… the… fuck?”
I was watching, thrilled every word and tried to figure out how I should react to this. It could possibly be an obsessed? It seem logic to me. Who the heck would send me these kinds of letters, when I don’t know someone with initials M.A.D? Even the initials were saying that the guy is mad… to watch me, to feel my scent… My eyes rose to the dark corner, feeling something suspicious, my instinct confirming something to, but I was going to insist on that later; Friend, lover, boyfriend?! You are a very hopeful person, dude, whoever you are.
“And who the fuck said that I am your princess, from when I belong to you? Or you to me, whoever you are…”
If my name wasn’t written at the beginning of the letter, and I would see this at another girl, I would remark that is cute. It’s true, the guy seems to be in love, something that is… somehow sweet, but this to be addressed to me, from someone whom I don’t know, I don’t really know what to say. I put the letter away, but the words keep rolling in my mind. I will be close to you no matter if you want a friend, a lover or a boyfriend. I will be by your side no matter what will happen with or around you.
I recognize the fact that it sounds so… assuring. Like I would have someone that will be my shelter when I was feeling down, or when I search to get more than ice cold stares. The fall in his arms… If I knew you, buddy, and I would’ve felt the same way for you, I’ll probably fall in your arms. My frozen feelings – this one is a mistake. I don’t really have feelings. Or, to be more specific, I don’t let them roam free. Feelings just bring hurt and sorrow. I don’t have feelings as warm as the romantic that sent me the letter. Who is this guy?
Sighing, I put away thinking until I’ll boil of my brain. I wasn’t having any modality to figure it out. Maybe I’ll find out about it later. Until then, I had to leave. I hang my sword over my back and I hid daggers in accessible places in my clothes. They will become really handy if I would be disarmed in a fight. It’s better to be prepared then to be surprised… in an unpleasant way. This had to become the anthem of the Warriors. We were the most powerful category of the Shinigami’s. Each Shinigami from the Nightshade family was a Warrior, and me, at my turn, I inherited this family trait. But the Warriors category is not just for the Nightshade family. That would be absurd. We are many more, named in different ways. Usually, they call us the elite fighters, because we were rising above the standards of the rest of the fighters here. Our bodies are adapted to resist: to kick, to kill, and bring victory. And this way, Arsendil was above any other country, at equality with Deasther, the Demon’s realm.
I walked to the window and I opened it, climbing on the ledge. I took a deep breath and I let myself fall, tasting the sensation of the swooping, the adrenaline that exploded in my veins, the apparent helplessness at the approaching of the ground that was promising me a mortal crushing. But I didn’t let that happen. I let my wings go out and I raised flying before I could’ve made myself one with the ground, and I let them to carry me to the forest.
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I made a third detour around the zone, and I was starting to think that actually, I came just for a goose chase, and the Damned leaved from where the hell he came or he was making his way to another part of Arsendil. I couldn’t see anyone here. Of course, with all of my super senses, offered by the demonic blood that was flowing through my veins, I couldn’t see clearly if the son of a bitch was hiding somewhere, somehow. I had to land on the ground, but something in my gut was telling me to stay in air. For sure, something was there. And this was a good point for me to go there and see what was fucking with my danger detector.
Loosening my wings, I let myself fall towards the ground, keeping myself in the safe zone of the Warriors: the silent skills, for which I was very grateful. As I was approaching more, I could sense. I could sense the negative intentions, pointed towards me. My stomach tossed and turned. Anything was here, it didn’t like me. Actually, it really hates me; and was wishing for my death too. I clenched my teeth, folded my wings and unsheathed my sword. It was comforting to feel the nice worked handle in my palm, the well known margins, and the way it seemed to complete my arm, like it was made to be linked to my hand. I was feeling braver with my favorite weapon within reach.
As I walked deeper in the wood, a dense mist sat around me. I could barely see at two steps before me and I was having constantly the impression that I’m on the verge to step into a hole, fall and break my neck. Who knows what traps the son of a bitch hide behind the mist that it wasn’t even here a few minutes ago. This mist was giving me a strong feeling of… fear. Usually, just the Dark Casters could induce dark feelings. And the mist was in the category of Water, at the fundamental elements. Something wasn’t good. I was smelling blood in this mist, like it was… impregnated in it. Please don’t tell me it’s some kind of killer mist.
I moved the sword in my left hand and I kneeled on the ground, drawing the symbol for Air in the Ancient Language with the tip of my finger, but nothing happened. This mist was cancelling my powers! It was impossible for the Ancient Language to not work. These runes were imbued with magic. Just by saying out loud one of the runes that was strict for the dark elements, you could die. But know there was nothing happening! I pushed all the available power I had towards the rune drawn on the ground, saying it out loud with all my might, but again, nothing happened. It was impossible, I draw it perfectly! I got up and wiped away the rune from the dust, looking around. I had to find the one that casted the mist and to stretch his guts all over the place. No one was putting me in a situation without my powers. It is already too bad that I didn’t found my specialty, when, at my age, others are already taking a step for the next level on their specialization.
I put the sword back in its sheath and I walked aimlessly in the mist. It was confusing my sense of direction, my instinct and my ability to sense negative intentions. But I had to find, at any price, the son of a bitch that did this to me. The theory with the killer mist it was becoming clearly true – as I was walking, I could feel stings on my skin. I brought my hand to eye level, watching horrified how little blood dots were appearing on the surface of my pale skin. At this rate, I was going to become a nice pile of bones in the middle of the woods. I supported my back against a tree. Think, Antonia, think… I bit my lip, concentrating at the need to find an idea that could be my escape. Tonarh once told me something…
The dark side of my soul! He mentioned that – the demonic part. That part that I wanted to avoid all my life. He told me to use it just in emergency cases, and now, I think the term applies very well. I concentrated and closed my eyes, searching for my soul, divided and balanced perfectly between angelic and demonic, supporting the body of what I was: a Shinigami. But to let out just the Demon inside of me could’ve produce an unpleasant imbalance. It was a risk that I had to take if I didn’t wanted to be the next meal for the mist. Tonarh warned me that I didn’t have to appeal too often at this dark side, but now I had to. Tonarh could scream after this as much as he wants. Not that he really screams or something…
I connected myself with the blood thirst that was haunting my interior, with the killer that was waiting right next to the corner, ready to jump in the most inappropriate moments. I silenced my angelic side. Almost immediately, my aura became terrifyingly dense, exploding in a pure demonic glow, full of terror and violence. A smirk lifted the corners of my mouth, as I felt fangs pricking at my lower lip. In normal circumstances, I would be sickened by the fact that I was at the moment one of them. Demons were not exactly in the top preferences for Shinigami’s, despite the long history shared between us and them.
“Finally, free.” I said, but my voice was having a little more of a husky tone than usual. And it still sounded good.
My eyes wandered around the place. My sight was a little powerful, but I couldn’t see through the mist. But I knew for sure. Now, I knew where the bastard was hiding. And he smelled like a Shinigami. Looking through the eyes of a Demon, a Shinigami’s scent was extremely appetizing. And my inner Demon was hungry – very hungry. I let myself drift into the will of my senses, into the need of feeding, and I followed the scent, almost feeling the venom drop from my fangs in anticipation for the bite. Moving faster than I ever did until now, I grabbed the Shinigami by his neck and I slammed him against a tree trunk, remarking that he was a Damned. The insignia on his temple gave him away. Iler adondar: the banished one.
The Damned growled at me, but this just made me laugh – a cold, cruel laugh, typical for Demons. He made the mist denser around me and besides the fact that I was feeling the mist was doing something to me – I could feel its acidity – I didn’t move an inch. I wasn’t feeling any pain.
“Release me, Nightshade” he growled.
“Oh, I won’t do that too soon. You are an advantageous meal; I don’t want you to slip through my fingers.”
As I was saying this, my angelic side came in force, sending the Demon to a walk. It looks like my contempt for Demons was stronger than hunger.
The Damned took advantage of my momentarily bewildered stat, and punched me with force in the stomach, throwing me a few meters away from him, making me to crash into a tree. I felt the air leaving my lungs, the mist continuing to whirl around me in little, white clouds – but now, I knew where he was. I just had to get up and hit him…
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