Deathbringer

It wasn't often that Deathbringer visited the library.  Not because he disliked reading, but because there was usually something better to occupy his time.

Today however, Deathbringer found the thought of a room filled with vast amounts of knowledge irresistibly compelling.

He walked through the long halls, pulling out books and flipping through them.

Finally, he found what he was looking for, and sat down next to the window and began to read.

Suddenly, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

He shot to his feet.

Glory stood behind him, looking over his shoulder. "Someone's jumpy today." she said.

Deathbringer shook his head and sat back down. "I'm just being careful"

Glory sat beside him. She looked at the book in his hand and looked up at him with her eyebrows raised. 

"Ancient Myths and Legends? Really?"

Deathbringer continued to flip through the books pages. "I'm looking for something"

"For what?" Glory asked.

Deathbringer held up a hand, then said, "There, I found it." Glory peered at the page. "The Sisters of Fate. Sinistra, Neoquin and Libra." She looked at him.

"I don't understand."

"That old woman. She said her name was Libra. I knew I had heard it somewhere before."

Glory looked at him disbelievingly. "So you think she's one of the sisters of fate? Not to stamp on your theory, but I don't see the connection."

Deathbringer glanced around, making sure no one was eaves dropping. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched.

"Libra" he read aloud. "The third and youngest sister of all three sisters of fate. The mother of crows, and mistress guardian of the gate into, and out of the underworld. She is the keeper of balance."

He closed the book. "Last night, I had a dream. In it was a large black crow. And before, she spoke to me in my mind, telling me that I would be tested. She was not only able to speak to me through my mind, but also access my thoughts and memories. I know you don't believe me Glory, but I swear it's true"

Glory tapped her foot thoughtfully.

"I suppose it does make sense, at least a little bit." she said.

"But I don't see why you're obsessing about it."

Of course you don't. Deathbringer thought.

I didn't tell you that your future depends on my passing these tests.

And I cannot tell you.

So instead, he smiled and said; "You're right.

"Sir"

"Sir!"

Deathbringer was jolted out of his gaze as a young man rushed up to him.

"What is it?" he asked.

The man was young, surely no older than thirteen. He had a mop of sandy hair, and his face looked as though it had been dumped into a barrel of freckles.

He stood, bent over and gasping, apparently having run quite some distance.

"Sir, the armory master, he requests your presence in the smithy, shall I run back and tell him you are coming sir?"

Deathbringer put a hand on the boys shoulder.

"No need, I shall go myself. Catch you breath, you needn't run any more."

The boy looked at him gratefully and staggered off.

Deathbringer walked swiftly to the smithy, where a large burly man clad in chain mail waited for him.

"Lord Stewart." he said, tilting his head in acknowledgement.

Deathbringer shifted, as though the weight of the title were a large woolen cloak he wished to shed.

"You had need of me?"

The large man nodded at a large pile of weapons.

"Her majesty has mentioned that you have had experience in war fare, yes?"

"Indeed" Deathbringer said. "What of it?"

The man bent over and picked up a spear.

"I want your help. Here. Tell me which weapons you think are best suited for battle. As you can see here, we have a large array of battle tools-"

Deathbringer held up a hand, frowning.

"Forgive me for interrupting, but may I ask, why does it matter? We've been at peace for the last two years have we not?"

The armory master glanced around, then bent his head and whispered.

"Between the Kingdoms, yes, but word has it that the barbarian tribes are uniting. They've been rallying and attacking different kingdoms. Different outposts. All the attacks have been random, but savage. Unplanned, but successful none the less. First it was the Mud Kingdom, then the Kingdom of Sand.

"Small bands have been sighted near the passage from the Sea Kingdom. Word has it that we're next."

Deathbringer inhaled sharply.

"On our way back from the Kingdom of the Sea, we were attacked by a barbarian. He was alone."

The armory master nodded. "Must have been a scout. So you see, we're preparing for the worst."

Deathbringer nodded.

"What weapon do you think is best suited for the creatures?" The man asked.

Deathbringer looked over the large pile of weapons.

"Throwing knifes, for long distance, swords for close combat. I highly doubt the would have experience with proper combat. The body of the barbarian who attacked us, I saw he had on him an array of small daggers, ax's, and they seem to be skilled in the art of bows and arrows"

He winced, remembering the sharp breath taking pain of the arrow head in his shoulder.

"So shields would be needed" the man said.

"Definitely." The man nodded, and picked up two knives.

"This one" he said, sliding a thumb across the blade of the first knife.

"She fly's fast and straight. The blade is sleek and sharp. It slides into an enemy's flesh and kills him before he has time to realize what has happened."

He held up the second one.

"But this one, see these barbs? Deadly she is. Slides in smoothly, but  . . . HA!. . . pulling her out is another matter" he guffawed.

"The death would be slow, the pain unimaginable. Death would seem a blessing above all."

Deathbringer reached instinctively for the pronged knife, then, at the last moment, his fingers closed around the handle of the first one.

He tossed it into the air and caught it.

"This one. The one that shall end our enemy's fastest."

The Armory master gave Deathbringer a confused look.

"But-sir-"

Deathbringer flicked his wrist and the knife sailed elegantly through the air, impaling a large sack of grain hanging from the ceiling and embedding itself in the far wall."

"Like I said" Deathbringer said.

"This one."

" . . . Yes sir"

Deathbringer leaned his head against the window sill.

So far, no traps had been sprung upon him. No tests had challenged him.

He felt uneasy.

"Still worrying away I see."

He looked around.

Glory stood, leaning against the door way, dressed in a simple white robe, a silk shawl caressing her shoulders, long hair loose down her back.

She held a book in her hands.

Deathbringer sighed.

"Possibility of war, strange women with crows, unrelenting cloud of a test looming over my head, no your majesty, not worrying."

She rolled her eyes and made her way over to sit beside him.

"How is your shoulder?" She asked.

He shrugged.

"Healing." 

She studied him for a moment.

"Well, why don't I take your mind off it for a while?"

He perked up.

"How do you suggest you do that?" he asked.

She smirked and punched him in the shoulder lightly, but hard enough that it hurt.

"Pray, clear your sinful mind in the presence of the Queen" she said.

When he appeared to wilt, she gently pressed him down and lay his head in her lap.

"Sometimes, when I have to much on my mind, I find reading helps." she said.

"Do you know the "Seven Sins of The Stonetouched?"

"Indeed."

"Where then shall I start?"

"You choose"

"Very well"

She cleared her throat.

"The evening sun gave way to a brilliant dusk. The air was thick, filled with mist, and heavy with anticipation. 

"Suncolor waited with baited breath for another painfully long moment, before slipping off her robe and sinking into the steaming water of her bath.

"She leaned her head against the cool curved stone edge and gazed at the wall. Somewhere far away, another figure waited impatiently for the final hour to strike, for it is then, that the walls would fall away, and the painted vines would lead him to her lady's bed chamber.

At length, the hour struck, and the girl watched as the dark shadow appeared before her. In a sudden moment of embarrassment, she lowered her self further into the creamy water, in a frail attempt to hide herself.

The man could see still her face, that she could not hide. Her skin was pale, her dark hair bound on top of her head, green eyes glittering with an irresistible child like innocence.

He moved towards her, and held out a hand, his voice soft and gentle. "Pray, be not ashamed, it is all the gods creation."

Though wise beyond her years, Suncolor was young, and the way he waited for her, so patiently, compelled her to take his hand and let him do what he wished. 

His hands were soft as they trickled over her cheek like rain water. She let out a breath.

"Oh please, lord of what ever realm you may rule, take me as your prisoner, and do as you like with me. I shan't refuse. No, please my lord, I admonish and beg you, take me away and may I never see this place again. "

He smiled at her.

"My dear lady, though pleased I am to hear this, I cannot help but find my self at a loss to understand. Was it not so that you once did seek to have me killed? Pray tell me, what brought about this change of heart?"

"Lord, I know not the answer to your question, only that my heart has well and truly changed course. I trust the compass within my chest to lead me, and it leads me, again and again to you.

"Please Lord, Take me! I relent and can stand the wait no longer!"

She spoke now with a feverish heat, clinging to his robe, with smooth hands.

"I see you know, with the eyes of my body, and wish for you now with everything else. I have decided, lord, you shall have me, or I shall die. Be it taking from me my innocence, my purity, or my blood, be it by sin, lust, love or hatred, I give you all that you wish to take."

The man took her pale hand, and lifted it to his mouth. As his lips brushed her skin, she felt the pain of two pins on her palm. 

If only it had merely been a twin prick of a pin that pierced her skin that night, then perhaps she might have gone on as normal after the man left, but no.

Alas, they found her in her bath, water gone cold, like the blood that once ran in her veins.

A crystal goblet stays treasured through out it's life, but when it's broken, though it does not loose its beauty, it becomes instead a mere shell of what it once was. 

It will no longer hold water, it will no longer hold wine.

Now the body will no longer hold blood, the skin is too fine.

Her body was cold, but no wound was found on her person. No sickness within.

Only two twin pin pricks on her palm.

How was it then, that the water was blood? "