Chapter 102: Survivors

[IMPORTANT] BOOK 3 SYNOPSIS: A Flame Bearer princeling with the world placed on his shoulders and not a soul to guide him but the fragmented memories of a desolate past… (Aaron)

A fledgling sailor with adventure on her mind but slave chains around her ankles… (Eksa)

A Shadow Walker child, trained to kill without knowing the weight of the deed… (Viper)

And a half-blood Vampire cursed from birth, shunned by both humans and Vampires alike, doomed to forever be alone and remain unloved… (Jackrin)

Herein is the story of four, of the tragedies that orphaned them, the world that sought to break them, and the twist of fate that saw them brought together and bound to each other by bonds unshakeable.

The story of four who should have been nothing, but would one day grow to have their names uttered in myths to come long after their passing.

(As mentioned earlier, this story begins prior to the events of book 2 but spans the course of a number of years and partially takes place at the same time as book 2. It will follow the new male MC, Aaron, and his friends).

Book 4 will see all narratives combine into one epic tale! Please look forward to it!

Chapter 1 - Survivors

Nothing but the sound of a wet rag scraping along wooden floorboards accompanied the boy. He frowned at a wine stain by the doorway and scrubbed harder. It dimmed in color, but didn't disappear. The frown deepened. His arms moved faster. The ache of exhaustion seeped in. The old rag suddenly tore and the boy unintentionally dragged his fingertips along the floor, blistering them. They stung.

Every night was the same. Once the customer's had gone, the chores began. Clean the rooms. Clean the sheets. Clean the clothes. Clean the dishes. By the time he was allowed rest, the beginnings of a new day would be creeping through stained glass window panes.

The heavy iron pendant around his neck felt cold against his skin no matter how long he had it on. It spilled out of his ragged, dirty shirt while he sat on his knees, bent over and scrubbing. Having finished with the room, he stood up, tucking the pendant back beneath his shirt with his wet hands.

He shuffled to the laundry room, dragging around a sinking weight bound to his ankles. Manacle chains clinked. He went down on his knees, dipping one of dozens of white bedsheets in a tub of lather and scrubbing them against a washboard. His hands stung further, the blisters spreading and cheaply made soap touching where his skin had parted. He endured, washing with care. Once done, he stood to hang the sheets from a line outside. His legs, stiff from being seated for so long, refused to move. They creaked as he pushed himself up. He overstretched whilst hanging the last of the sheets and lash wounds on his back tore open.

No cry escaped the boy's parted lips. A drop of blood rolled down his back. A drop of saltwater rolled down his cheek. A reminder for what would happen should he ever err in completing his tasks. Or if he did not complete them before the sun came up. Mistress Delin would whip him repeatedly while reminding him of how generous she was to let him have a roof above his head and how ungrateful he was for not earning his keep there. Though, she was generous. She allowed him to eat well, even if it was out of sight. She allowed him to bathe. And he was taught how to read and write.

“Aaron! Blessed Flames, you're bleeding again. I was sure I stitched you up proper. Didn't I tell you not to over exert yourself?”

Aaron turned with shuffling feet, iron chains dragging along the floorboards. He had tried running away once. And they'd bound him for it. “Ma, you should sleep. Mistress Delin says it will harm your beauty if you do not sleep.”

“And leave you to do all the work? You need sleep as well. Flames, you have dark circles around your eyes. And you have lessons in the evening. Come here. Show me your back.”

He obliged, turning around in hopes she'd breathe his pains away. He caught a whiff of the cheap scents she wore during service hours mingling with that of a lavender soap she must've used to wash with not long ago.

“You're going to be a king someday, Aaron,” his mother continued. “You can't—”

Aaron snapped. “You say that all the time but we've been here for years. We're never going to leave this piss hole!” For once, he wondered, could she not just hold him than feed him such obvious lies? Could she not just say sorry and let him rest his head against her chest?

Lera slapped Aaron across the face, smearing his tear. “Don't you dare take that tone with me! I sacrificed what was left of my life for you. I entrusted the glory of our House to you .” Her voice quieted to a whisper as she knelt before him. “You are Aarondel Ignis Zz'tai. First born son to the last of High House Zz'tai and heir to the throne of Xenaria. Someday, you will understand everything. You remember what you promised, don't you? Never take that pendant off of your neck until I tell you to. The king to be cannot allow himself a defeat here. Don't lower your standards, Aaron. Don't mimic what foulness you might hear out in the halls. Keep your mouth clean. Tell yourself that you're above them, as you truly are. Act the part. Repeat this every day. You will come to believe it. And that confidence will one day save you.” Lera wiped the tears off of his face and inspected the open wound on his back. “It's just a small cut. It will close itself come morning if you don't move around. Go sleep now. I've already cleaned the other rooms.”

Just a small cut . So it seemed on the outside, but the rend tore deeper inside than his mother could know. Aaron nodded and shuffled out the door careful not to let his manacles create too much noise lest he wake everyone in the building.

He had already taken the pendant off of his neck once. He hadn't mentioned it to his mother. Nothing seemed to happen. There were strange markings etched on one side of it. His mother thought of it as important —despite it being made of mere iron— and so he held on to it.

He walked down to the cold, damp cellar where a discarded torn mattress lay at the dark corner of the room. It had been his bed for as long as he could remember. The place smelled rancid. It was too dark to see anything for a normal person. Having been there for years, Aaron's eyesight had adjusted to the black room. For the darkest corners where no light reached, he would find his way by counting his footsteps. He sat down heavily on the edge of the smelly mattress and examined his blistered hands. The skin was turning hard in some parts from long days of labour. He buried his face in his hands and sobbed. The only comfort he found was in the remnants of the soapy scent ingrained in his skin. He was a slave as was his mother. His anger and hatred were clouded by his feelings of despair and depression.

How his mother had kept faith for so long, he did not know. Aaron would always tell himself that he had to push through. That the pain and humiliation his mother suffered was far worse than what he had been going through. Every new day would bring a rising hope within. A feeling that said today will be different . But in the end, they would play out much less the same.

Raising his shackled legs onto his bed, Aaron curled into a little ball and waited for another repeat of this day.

He awoke well past noon, as was his usual hour of awakening. There was a bucket of cold water left beside his mattress. He removed his shirt and rolled up his pant sleeves before washing, shivering as he did so. The chains around his ankles made the process difficult and tedious. Spilt water crawled down the decline of the cellar floor towards a drain pipe at one end.

After finishing, Aaron climbed the wooden steps towards the cellar door, as was a habit. He turned the knob to find it unlocked.

Odd .

It was normally locked during the day until Mistress Delin came to fetch him for his reading lessons. It would hurt business if a little boy was spotted running around the halls. Aaron knew better then to leave his cell. But wisdom was a commodity children too readily traded for curiosity. He opened the door and stepped into the stretching corridor. He made sure to shuffle along slowly, chains rattling and floorboards occasionally creaking. Most rooms had their doors near closed. Aaron heard muffled voices around a corner. His heart raced. If the Mistress caught him, he would be in for another whipping. He heard footsteps approaching. Panicking, he whirled around. He stiffened as the sound of his manacles chimed through the hall.

“Aaron, come here! Quick!” a voice called from a nearby room. The door was half open. He had somehow missed it. He shuffled inside and closed the door behind him. The room appeared familiar. It was not much different from his mother's chambers. A service room with just a bed and a wardrobe and a red stained-glass window at the far end. A young woman with dark red hair sat at the edge of the bed. She twirled a large ring around one finger. The five keys hanging from them danced and jingled. “Snooping around just because your door was unlocked? Quite the mischievous child.”

“Did you unlock it?” Aaron asked.

The woman giggled. It was fake. Something practiced and perfected from working for so long. “Sure did. Don't just stand there. Come here. Come sit on my lap.”

“But you're naked, Mely.”

“Does that bother you?”

He nodded.

“I've just finished bathing. See? My hair is still wet. Are you still bothered?” Aaron made no motion. Mely rolled her eyes. “Come now. I won't bite. The first customers are still a ways off yet.” He reluctantly did as he was told. Mely forced his head back against her bare breasts while running a hand through his hair. “See? Not so scary.”

It was less that he was scared than he was uncomfortable in a way he could not describe. He blinked, frowning at a dark mark on her fair face. “The bruise under your eye. Who did that?”

Mely arched one of her flame like brows. “That's your first question? Are you worried about me?”

Aaron averted his gaze and began gnawing on the edge of his lip to avoid answering. He was worried. But he didn't want to admit it.

“Lera sure birthed an odd one. You're sweet, Aaron, for where it is you're being raised. I hope you grow up to be just like that. Grow up to be a charming prince that protects girls,” she said with a wink, pecking his forehead with her full lips.

He flushed. “I already am one,” he blurted out.

“What?”

“Mother says I'm going to be a king someday. That means I'm already a prince.”

Mely frowned. “King? Was Lera a concubine of the Emperor? She certainly is beautiful enough without the use of makeup. Well, it doesn't matter.” She reached under her pillow and pulled out a small book. “Can you read this to me? It was a gift given to me by my parents long ago. The only memory I have of them. But…” Mely's eyes sank. She bit her bottom lip.

“But what?”

“I don't know how to read.”

“Is that why you unlocked my door?” Aaron asked.

“Hmm? Yes. And no. I don't like seeing you in chains. The Mistress said if I can earn half as much as Lera, she'll let me unlock your shackles. So I did things —worked harder and…” She forced a false smile, swinging that ring of keys around her finger again. “Here. Let me see your legs.”

Aaron strained his thighs to raise the weight around his ankles. Mely twitched as cold iron touched her bare skin. She unlocked his binds and they fell to the floor with a thump . Aaron gasped. His heart raced as imaginary wings sprouted from his back. He wanted to run. Wanted to use his freed legs. A burden had been lifted from his chest. Joy spread upon his lips. He looked up at his benefactor, eyes wide and full of gratitude. “Um… Thanks.” He'd more emotions in that moment than what those two words could express, but he didn't know how to go about phrasing it.

Mely giggled again. Aaron couldn't tell if it was fake this time, but caught in her large hazel eyes was a melancholy she could not entirely dismiss. A flash of anger crossed his mind, disappearing just as quick, leaving the pendant at his chest a degree warmer than its usual stone cold state. “The Mistress used you, you know,” he said. “You're going to have to keep working harder. It was the same with mother. She was forced to do many things to keep me here.”

Mely sat Aaron back on her lap and rested her chin on his head. “Aren't you observant for your age? Lera gets requested by the lion's share of customers, giving us other girls some breathing room. She's been a blessing to us since she's arrived. Though, her eyes are always distant. I get the feeling she will leave one day, taking you, our little angel, with her. We all owe your mother, Aaron. Even if our work has increased recently since that one fellow arrived. He's been requesting Lera every time he's here and spends far too much time with her while paying generously. Well, enough about that. Read me the book!”

Aaron ran his hand down the hardcover spine. The title was ingrained in the surface. He touched it, feeling the shape of the letters. Mirror of Cordia : an Estraean Märchen . A picture book with gorgeous illustrations. “Once upon a time, at the cottage by the lake…”

So it was that he was whisked away into a fairy tale realm by the detailed images and words. He took unintentional long pauses to admire some of the art. It was a story of a knight who saved a princess from an evil witch. A common story that Aaron had heard many variations of. But reading a version of it himself was something else entirely. This version very quickly became his favorite.

Mely seemed to enjoy every second of it. She was being read a memory of her parents for the first time. He could feel her heart racing against the back of his head as he read over the final fight wherein the witch turned into a beast. Mely held him tight as the mighty beast was slain and the knight freed the princess from her shackles. The art depicted them holding each other in a loving embrace. Aaron found his immersion breaking. In most versions of the story, the knight frees the princess but leaves her for the girl living by the Cordion Lake. This particular version had the Lake Girl turn out to be the witch. He frowned, no longer certain if this was his favorite variant now.

He set the book down when he had finished and turned to look at Mely. She was smiling with a childlike enthusiasm. He blinked repeatedly, absorbing her beautiful features. She had slightly rounded cheeks and a large pair of eyes. Slight freckles marked the sides of her nose. His gaze wandered to her glossy pink lips. Aaron blushed, remembering the kiss the knight and the princess had shared at the end. He dropped his gaze, his face feeling hot. He could hardly rest his eyes on any part of her bare form without his breathing become constrained and his throat beginning to dry.

The door to the room suddenly burst open, causing the both of them to jump.

“That's where you were! Blessed Flames, I've been looking for you everywhere, Aaron,” Lera exclaimed. Her thin brows came closer together as the expression of relief turned to one of curious disappointment. “Melyanne, what exactly are you doing to my child?”

“Oh nothing. Just being a second mother to him is all. Is it time for his lessons already? What's the purpose in having Delin teach him further, Lera? He already knows how to read. I'd like to keep our little angel away from that bitch if possible.”

“Mind your tongue! He's only eight. Flames! Where is your hand!?”

Aaron felt one arm firmly being wrapped around him while with her free hand, the red haired woman squeezed between his legs. He squirmed about uncomfortably.

“Just checking to see if he's reached that age,” Mely giggled. “The boy says he's going to be a king someday. Better he learns of women as a child so no cunning courtesan ever bewitches him.”

Lera flashed a glare towards Aaron —the kind that said 'we need to talk'. “Much like how you're bewitching him while you're completely unclothed? He isn't one of your customers,” she countered. “He has plenty of time to learn such things. Now is not the right time!”

“Well, why don't we let the student himself decide?”

Aaron's mother looked at him expectantly and with stern eyes. Mely wrapped her arms around him tighter. “She's kinder. She doesn't whip me like Mistress Delin. And her breasts are soft and easy to lay my head on,” he said honestly. Lera's jaw dropped.

Mely broke out in laughter. She kissed Aaron's neck and let him go. “A reward for today. Come back tomorrow and read me the book again!” He nodded and ran towards his mother. He paused, looking to the manacles on the floor. Mely picked them up and handed them to Lera along with the ring of keys. “Lera, I know you mean well for him. But keep the Mistress away from Aaron. He's your child. But he's our angel. He's the one joy many of us girls have in this light forsaken place. Don't let him be corrupted by this world.”

“As long as you maintain some decency around him. Put some clothes on already for Flame's sake.”

Aaron heard another giggle as he stepped through the open doorway. His mother led him up a short flight of stairs. “You,” she began with a hiss, “need to watch your words, Aarondel. Who else have you divulged our family secrets to?”

“No one.”

“Who else!” Lera shouted from the final step, turning to fix him with a searing gaze, her height looming over him.

“No one,” he squealed, knees shaking. He didn't understand. It was just Mely. She could be trusted. Right?

Lera sighed. “You're endangering you and me both, Aaron. Please, please don't mention who you are or your full name to anyone in here. Anyone. ” She held her hand out for him, softening her expression. Aaron nodded and took hold of it, clutching his mother's fingers tight. She led him into a large room full of wardrobes. Mistress Delin's study , as she called it. Every wardrobe contained expensive dresses that the Mistress bought for herself from the money earned by the house's girls. The woman was sitting on a chair behind a desk, speaking to a man with shoulder length dark hair and a fair complexion. “Orion!” Lera proclaimed. “Here for me again?”

“Of course!” the man answered enthusiastically.

“Customers aren't supposed to arrive before dusk you know?” Lera said, playfully wagging a finger.

Aaron glared at the man. Orion had been frequenting the house since a few cycles past and the only woman he ever requested was Lera. Aaron's hands twitched. He felt as if he was being robbed. The fake smile his mother always wore for customers was slowly withering away. It was being replaced. Replaced by something more real.

“Is this little Aaron that you've been telling me about? He has your features, Lera.”

Aaron hid behind his mother's leg, clutching the length of her sky blue dress. He didn't want Orion's revolting emerald eyes seeing any part of him. It made him feel bare and vulnerable. There was something sinister about that gaze, as if it spoke a thousand fibs in a single breath.

“Don't be shy now, Aaron,” Lera said. “You certainly weren't acting that way with Mely just now. Go on and sit down by the Mistress.” She flashed a smile towards the dark haired man and walked out of the room. Orion followed after her.

Aaron felt something grip his hair as he stared out the door. His head was pulled back and he yelped in pain, a firm hand clamping down on his mouth as soon as his lips had parted. “Boy, you'd better not be thinking of anything funny. That one has deep pockets and connections. Your mother is lucky he pays so much just for her.”

Delin dragged Aaron along and forced him to sit on a chair. She put a thick book in his hands and picked up a whipping reed, looking at him with pure hatred. Aaron knew better than to respond in kind. He opened the book and began reading its contents out loud. A ledger with all the money earned by each girl in the house for every nine day cycle.

Aaron was forced to read it from beginning to the end. His mother's name appeared more often than anyone else. He took a quick glance at the middle aged woman before him and saw the Mistress' eyes twinkle at the mention of money. She had greying hairs at the sides of her head. Her black dress was fitted tight around the torso and expanded below the waist. The sleeves of her upper arm were puffed, as if to hide her sagging triceps, and a glimmering silver piece with square orchid gems adorned her wrinkle ridden neck.

By the time Aaron had finished going through the ledger, the sun was beginning to set and sounds of rowdy men from the common room below bled through the open doorway. His stomach growled. He had seen Mely's name appear far more often near the end of the ledger. She really had worked hard just to free him.

Just being a second mother to him .

The thought was comforting. He had the love of more than just one mother. He would do his best to see their genuine smiles. He would one day save them from Mistress Delin. Just like the gallant knight in Mely's book.