iii. ━━ flowers of crimson

Màu nền
Font chữ
Font size
Chiều cao dòng

*。☆。
★。\|/。★
˚ ₊ ♡ ❰  DEADLY GHOSTS ❱
*✧ ─── ❝ ❪ FLOWERS OF CRIMSON ! ❫ ❞
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ACT ONE ── no mourners 🪶 ⁺⑅

═════════ ☆•° °•☆ ═════════
SIX OF CROWS ⋆ 🪦.
♯ ❝ I RATHER HAVE THE BOY
CHAPTER THREE ✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
˚ ₊ ♡ book one ─── age 17
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

⠀. *   ✦ .  ⁺  ✦ .⁺  ˚
. *     ✦ .  ⁺   .
✦ .     ⁺ ⁺


THE SMELL OF BLOOD HAD LINGERED, AND PAINTED THE SOFT SAND OF THE ARENA A CRIMOSN RED THAT SPILLED LIKE A BLOOMING FLOWER.  BUT THE BOY THAT ENTERED THE ARENA NEXT DID NOT EVEN LOOK. HE HOWEVER HAD NINA GASPING AND GRASPING THE STONE LEDGE WITH SUCH VEROCITY, MIRIAM TRULY THOUGHT THE STONE WOULD CRACK. The boy was nearly bald, small tufts of blonde sticking from random spots. She could see cuts and nicks on his scalp from where the razor had been applied too roughly. It was clear the guards who did it, did not know what they were doing. But then again, one is not supposed to look pretty in Hellgate. And even with his hair butchered, and solemn eyes, Miriam knew, he had been a handsome boy one once.

He glared around the arena, as if his gaze could set the crowd on fire he looked like he wished everyone nothing but dead. He paused, for a split second and then gave the wheel a rough spin, sending the devilish contraption nearly to the ground.

Tick breath in.

Tick breath out.

Tick breath in.

It spun and spun and spun, the arena deadly silent in anticipation of whatever creature would have the luck to slay the boy. Snakes, tiger, bear, boar. On and on it went, and by each passing second, Nina grew more restless. Miriam, while not having known Nina long, did know one thing very well. She was a master at masking her true emotions. But even she could not hide the terror in her face when the wheel stopped moving.

"no." Nina's words are carried away over the roaring crowd and slowly Miriam let's her own gaze lock on the wheel.

"It could be worse." Muzzen, voice rough around the edges, carries more volume as he frowns. "It could have landed on the desert lizard again."

But Nina did not listen to Muzzen, and instead turned sideways and grabbed Kaz' arm through his cloak and felt his muscles tense.

"You have to stop this." She pleaded uncharacteristically

"Let go of me, Nina." His gravel-rough voice was low, but everyone could sense real menace in it.

She dropped her hand immediately as if she had burned the skin on her fingers, "Please, you don't understand. He "

"If he survives, I'll take Matthias Helvar out of this place tonight, but this part is up to him."

Nina gave a frustrated shake of her head. "You don't get it."

"Your Fjerdan boy will be fine Zenik." Miriam's voice rumbled low from where she stood next to the girl. "This place changes people. He will fight the wolves no matter what his silly gods think of it."

Nina only looked at Miriam with vague surprise twisted on her pretty face.

The guard unbolted Matthias' shackles, and as soon as the chains dropped into the sand, he leaped onto the ladder with the announcer to be lifted to safety. The crowd screamed and stamped, the ground shaking. But Matthias stood silent, unmoving, even when the gate opened, even when the wolves charged out of the tunnel three of them snarling and snapping, tumbling over one another to get to him. At the last second, Matthias dropped into a crouch, knocking the first wolf into the dirt, then rolling right to pick up the bloodied knife the previous combatant had left in the sand.

He sprang to his feet, blade held out before him, but there was a sense of reluctance.

He has not completely forsaken his gods Miriam thought cynically, he should. They have forgotten him too.

Helvar's head was cocked to one side, and the look in his blue eyes was pleading, as if he was trying to engage the two wolves circling him in some silent negotiation. Whatever the plea might have been, it went unheard. The wolf on the right lunged. Matthias crouched low and spun, lodging his knife in the wolf's belly. It gave a miserable yelp, and Matthias seemed to shudder at the sound. It cost him precious seconds. The third wolf was on him, knocking him to the sand. Its teeth sank into his shoulder. He rolled, taking the wolf with him. The wolf's jaws snapped, and Matthias caught them. He wrenched them apart, the muscles of his arms flexing, his face grim.

There was a sickening crack. The crowd roared. Matthias kneeled over the wolf. Its jaw was broken, and it lay on the ground twitching in pain. He reached for a rock and slammed it hard into the poor animal's skull. It went still and Matthias' shoulders slumped.

The people howled, stomping their feet.

The first wolf had recovered and was circling. He got to his feet, but his movements were slow, weary. His heart wasn't in this fight. His opponents were grey wolves, rangy and wild, but cousins to the white wolves of the Fjerdan north.

They show you no mercy, Miriam thought sadly, you should not either.

Matthias had no knife, only the bloody rock in his hand, and the remaining wolf prowled the arena between him and the pile of weapons. The wolf lowered its head and bared its teeth. Matthias dove left. The wolf lunged, sinking its teeth into his side. He grunted, and hit the ground hard. For a moment, a collective gasp sounded around the arena. Then he reached out, hand scrabbling through the sand, searching for something. His fingers closed over the shackles that had bound his wrists. He seized them, looped the chain across the wolf's throat, and pulled, the veins in his neck cording from the strain.

His bloody face was pressed against the wolf's ruff, his eyes tightly shut, his lips moving. What was he saying? A drüskelle prayer? A farewell? The wolf's hind legs scrabbled at the sand. Its eyes rolled, frightened whites showing bright against its matted fur.

A high whine rose from its chest. And then it was over. The creature's body stilled. Both fighters lay unmoving in the sand. Matthias kept his eyes closed, his face still buried in the creature's fur. The crowd thundered its approval. The ladder was lowered, and the announcer sprang down, hauling Matthias to his feet and grabbing his wrist to raise his hand in victory.

Miriam caught Kaz' gaze, and the boy gave her one quick nod.

The announcer gave him a little nudge, and Matthias lifted his head. Tears streaked the dirt on Matthias' face.

The guards took hold of Matthias again, pulling the shackles from the wolf's throat and clapping them back on his wrists. As he was led away, the crowd chanted its disapproval, clamouring "More! More!"

"Where are they taking him?" Nina asked, voice trembling.

"To a cell to sleep off the fight," Kaz responded casually, as if already knew she would ask.

"Who will see to his injuries?"

"They have mediks." A small smirk played on his lips and it was only now that the group noticed they were with one less than they entered the arena.

































⋆⋅ ━━━━ ‧ ༻✩༺ ‧ ━━━━ ⋅⋆

THE ROUGHSPUN MATERIAL OF THE MEDIK'S CLOTHES MADE MIRIAM'S BODY ITCH, A FIRE LIT ON HER SKIN AS SHE MOVED AROUND THE SHADOWS AS IF SHE WAS ONE HERSELF. The wooden door behind her was already falling shut again, and with a quick glimpse over her shoulder, the unconscious Medik girl was sprawled on the floor, drool drippling down her mouth, an empty jug of ale and a little something extra between her nimble and calloused fingers. 

Her grin was wicked as she moved, a small bounce in her step as she followed the corridors, the layout imprinted in her skull. She let her fingers move alongside the cobblestone walls. A pleasant shiver ran up her spine as she felt the cold stone on her fingertips.

Moaning, and the smell of urine mixed with blood surrounded her left and right. Multiple prisoners called out to her pleading, begging for help.

A small prayer to Sankta Anastasia left her lips, but she did not let her stoic expression waver. Her shoulders were tense, the shadows and light flickering from the lit torches on the walls danced on the ground like little ghosts.

Her feet padded lightly, not a sound as she turned to the cell she had been looking for. A single guard stood in the hallway, and when he caught her doe eyed gaze he scoffed, muttering dark words under his breath.

She turned her expression meek, innocent, and gentle. She blinked sweetly at the guard, "I was send to look at his injuries." Miriam didn't recognise her own voice as she spoke, the lithe of her articulation were overly sensual, a breathy whisper that rendered the man in trance.

"Are you sure you're here for him?" The guard smiled, crookedly, yellow buckteeth on display, as he stepped closer to her. "Maybe you should take care of me instead? I'm far nicer to look at than this lad."

Miriam let her fingers run up his arm, teasingly looked at him with hooded eyes. Her fingertips let a trail of warmth up the man's spine, and the russet eyed girl gently placed a hand on his cheek before leaning closer.

Her lips were a mere inch away from his, a repulsive smell wafted in her face, and she had to grit her teeth not to gag. "I rather have the boy." She whispered.

For a moment, the guard looked shocked, eyes wide and distressed. She felt him tense beneath her fingertips, and for a split second he tried to move back.

But Miriam was quicker. The hand on his cheek moved, with far more strength than one would expect for such a short girl. His head bashed against the cobblestone wall. Blood trickling down, like rain dripping from the rooftops.

She nudged his side for good measure, before deciding he was out cold

Her lips quirked into a smirk, shaking of the façade of demure girl as she took the keys from the guard. "Thank you good sir." She laughed under her breath before grabbing a hold of the man by his armpits to drag him to an empty cell.

"Sleep well." She whispered wickedly and turned to leave the cell.

Another guard came around the corner just in time and she slipped back in her demure little act. "He'll sleep through the night." She pointed at the knocked out guard shrouded in shadows, only showing his slumped silhouette, "make sure he drinks something in the morning," She spoke calmly, "Leave him be for the night...he might start talking delusions. Pay them no mind."

The man nodded before he moved in the opposite direction. She waited till he was away before she whistled a low tune.

Kaz appeared from the darkness, like a little demon of the night, the others appearing behind. She grinned at the group and gestured them forward. The door in the rock was solid iron, broken only by a narrow slot through which to pass the prisoner's meals. "Our little guard friend did not have a key for this little door."

Kaz bent to the lock. Nina eyed the crude iron door. "This place is barbaric." "Most of the better fighters sleep in the old tower," Kaz replied. "Keeps them away from the rest of the population."

Nina glanced left and right to where bright light spilled from the arena entryways. There were guards standing in those doorways, distracted maybe, but all one needed to do was turn his head.

As if reading her mind, Miriam stood before her, blocking her view. She almost looked innocent with the rough spun Medik clothes. Almost. "Don't worry " She nodded towards the unlit torches lining the walls, "They won't see us."

Before Nina could reply, or Miriam could add anything else, an assuring click resonated as Kaz had picked the lock. The door creaked open and they slipped inside.

The cell was pitch-black. A brief moment passed, and the cold green glow of a bonelight flickered lit, as if it was alive and breathing like them.

Inej held the little glass sphere aloft. The substance inside was made from the dried and crushed bodies of luminous deep-sea fishes.

As their eyes adjusted to the gloom their gaze settled on the barren and icy cold interior of the cell. A pallet of horse blankets and two buckets placed against the bare wall. If this was the prize of winning in the arena...the horrors of a normal cell would be excruciating.

Matthias Helvar slept with his back to the wall, and in the dim light of the bonelight, his swelling face, littered with cuts and bruises was illuminated like a sick portrait.

The face of incoming dead would be a fitting name.

Inej moved as swift as she always did, bending down to assess the damage, and applying a horrible smelling ointment Calendula. Nina was almost trembling beside the raven haired girl, dark eyes gazing at the Fjerdan boy with sadness swirling inside of them.

Nina went to move forward, but with one dark stare of Kaz, she backed off again. "I can"

"Let Inej assess the damage." He spoke decisively, "I need you to work on Muzzen."

Muzzen stepped forward. He removed his cloak and shirt and the Madman's mask. His head was shaved, and he wore prison-issue trousers.

Nina looked at Matthias then back to Muzzen, grasping what Kaz had in mind. The two boys were about the same height and the same build, but that was where the similarities ended. "You can't possibly mean for Muzzen to take Matthias' place."

Miriam could almost detect guilt in her honey-sweet voice.

"He isn't here for his sparkling conversation," Kaz replied offhandedly. "You'll need to reproduce Helvar's injuries. Inej, what's the inventory?"

"Bruised knuckles, chipped tooth, two broken ribs," Inej relayed. "Third and fourth on the left."

"His left or your left?" Kaz asked.

"His left."

"This isn't going to work," Nina said in frustration. "I can match the damage to Helvar's body, but I'm not a good enough Tailor to make Muzzen look like him."

"Just trust me, Nina."

"I wouldn't trust you to tie my shoes without stealing the laces, Kaz." She peered at Muzzen's face. "Even if I swell him up, he'll never pass."

"Tonight, Matthias Helvar or rather, our dear Muzzen is going to appear to contract firepox, the lupine strain, carried by wolves and dogs alike. Tomorrow morning, when his guards discover him so covered in pustules that he is unrecognisable, he will be quarantined for a month to see if he survives the fever and to outwait the contagion. Meanwhile Matthias will be with us. Get it?"

"You want me to make Muzzen look like he has firepox?"

"Yes, and do it quickly, Nina, because in about ten minutes, things are going to get very hectic around here." Nina stared at him.

"No matter what I do to him, it won't last a month. I can't give him a permanent fever."

"My contact in the infirmary will make sure he stays sick enough. We just need to get him through diagnosis. Now get to work."

Nina looked Muzzen up and down. "This is going to hurt just as much as if you'd been in the fight yourself," she warned.

He scrunched up his face, bracing for the pain. "I can take it."

Miriam did have to admit it was brace of Muzzen to face this hell she would not, not for anything in this world.

Nina just rolled her eyes at his answer, then lifted her hands, concentrating. With a sharp slice of her right hand over her left, she snapped Muzzen's ribs. He let out a grunt and doubled over.

"That's a good boy," Kaz stated almost mockingly. "Taking it like a champion. Knuckles next, then face."

Nina spread bruises and cuts over Muzzen's knuckles and arms, matching the wounds to Inej's descriptions. "I've never seen firepox up close," Nina said.

"Count yourself lucky," Kaz said grimly. "Hurry it up."

She worked from memory, swelling and cracking the skin on Muzzen's face and chest, raising blisters until the swelling and pustules were so bad that he was truly unrecognisable. The big man moaned. "Why would you agree to do this?" Nina murmured.

The swollen flesh of Muzzen's face quivered, and Miriam thought he might be trying to smile. "Money was good," he said thickly.

Why else did anyone do anything in the Barrel?

"Dara."

Miriam looked up at Kaz' grim face, shrouded by the shadows that lingered in the cell. "Take care of your new friend."

Her jaw became taut and she nodded firmly once before disappearing towards the cell of the guard she had dumped there.

Another crimson flower would bloom there too tonight.

Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: Truyen2U.Pro