Burial of hearts the black widow's malice Read online

  Camerine was keeping the food warm, with a touch of fire and a pinch of magick. A large group of the Panotti began seeping through the entrance, cheering at the sight of the myriad of food and drink. Everyone seated themselves, taking gulps of their ales and/or wines; the cheering became almost deafening, then Camerine stood up and all went silent.

  “This day we celebrate our freedom from persecution; through each of our hands we built this, whether big or small, all took their part. May all of our years be rich and let us hope for the downfall of Hecate”.

  Looking over to me for a brief moment, he continued to talk.

  “We have a new soul among us, she may not be as us, but she is just as worthy of this feast, for all that I have heard and seen, she will aid us well for our future and our children’s future. Let us eat and let us celebrate”.

  “Here, here”. All about me bellowed out.

  Laughter ensued for hour upon hour; drinking did not halt, even with the tumbling down of many; musicians played melodies that effortlessly got fixed in heads, causing a frenzy of dance and song. I chose not to drink though, after what happened the last time, preferring to maintain a stable mind and body.

  “Avis, come with me please”. Camerine called me over with the motion of his finger.

  We walked away from all the revelries, towards what seemed like a temple. There was a single object upon a stone podium; centred it was a rounded vessel, golden and encrusted with moon crescent gems; where the largest gemstone should have rested, it was bare. Looking at Camerine quizzically, I asked him what this was.

  “It is rumoured by some, that the father of Hecate, ‘Tartarus’ gave all of his power unto this; we managed to obtain it from Hecate, but the gem was missing”.

  “What exactly is this for and where has the gem gone?”.

  “In books it is said that it holds the power to destroy Hecate, but most people agree it is merely worth an unthinkable amount of coin; either way we know that it is important, else why would she search for it as she does? The gem, well we do not know the whereabouts, there will always be rumours, but I have learnt not to follow up on hearsay, it can lead to more trouble than it is worth”.

  “I have always personally thought every path is worth a visit, if only to find out it is a dead end”.

  “I suppose we dither in some ways Avis; would you like to stay down here with us tonight?”.

  “I best not, I am trying to stay in one place instead of being all over, but thank you for the offer”.

  “Very well; remember to come to the battle tomorrow, it starts at mid-day, you may have to rush your work for Mr Bullwort, but do try to maintain a high standard at the same time; we do not want to gain a reputation for providing half-finished work”.

  “I will try my upmost, goodnight Camerine”.

  I walked up, back through the house, bidding farewell to his mother, whom was sitting mixing spices into a secret recipe of hers. The streets were empty that night, apart from the usual patrolling guards, mumbling sexual profanities at the women they deemed fitting; obviously I was not their type, as they merely blanked me as I walked by.

  Chapter 7

  Tenro was ready, waiting at the door as I arrived. Today he was dressed according to his class; the finest white silk shirt, with a perfectly tailored suit and overly polished shoes.

  “Good morning Tenro”. I said as I was admiring the transformation that had taken place overnight.

  “Good morning to you too Avis. I thought I would prepare myself early today, being such an important day as it is”.

  “Sorry if I sound like a fool, but what is it that makes today important?”.

  “‘Rartonvie Mystic Brawl’ of course, it is the finest presentation of magick that this land bestows, will you be attending at all? I suppose you cannot afford the more privileged seats in the stadium”.

  “No I will be attending and I do hope the seats that we get will be more than rewarding for the purpose”.

  “Very well, I do hope you enjoy it. Now today I have something a little different for you to do instead of cleaning. I need to enact a little revenge on a friend, turned enemy of mine. He has decided that although I have given him the upmost generosity, he no longer wishes to repay me the coin that he owes me, and him being in such a privileged position, it would be foolish of me to harm him in any way, so this is where you come in. I have had a key made by the blacksmith, so when he leaves with his wife, which is always the same time every day, you will sneak into his home and leave an item for me, then return to me. If he will not give me the coin, I will take his heart”.

  I looked shocked at Tenro, at what he had just suggested me to do. It was such a low blow to try to ruin a relationship over debt.

  “I take it you will do this for me, or will I have to end my service agreement with you?”.

  “I… will do it”. I said unwillingly, but not wanting Camerine to lose a client.

  Tenro walked away for a moment, then came back holding onto a bunch of flowers with a note that read:

  “Dear Markam,

  My greatest dreams, could not father a thought to the love I felt in your arms; your kiss as astounding as the moon eclipsed. You have taken my heart and with my words I give you the key. I Love you Markam”.

  I sighed. Looking at the note Tenro had written, I was about to destroy a relationship.

  “Come on then Avis, no time like the present”.

  We walked out from his house, down the always pristinely maintained path, to just before the ending of the row of upper class homes. He pointed at the target house, telling me demandingly what to do; now I can see why his wife died.

  We waited fifteen minutes until the door opened; he summoned his guards to follow him and his wife around the city, giving me the opportunity to fulfil his request.

  I was affront of the house door, I pushed the key firmly into the hole and with quite some force I turned it, opening the door, then hurriedly locking it behind me, just in case they were to return unexpectedly.

  Walking up the stairs I opened several doors until I found what I was searching for; the sleeping quarters of Markam and his wife. The bed was enormous, almost twice that of mine; There was a dressing table littered with perfumes that were half full; obviously she was quite an undecided lady. The glossed mahogany wardrobe lined the front wall, built in to provide extra support for the ceiling above. I placed the flowers upon the edge of the bed, ready for the upheaval when they both returned, which was sooner than I was expecting.

  The door downstairs gave the familiar sound of keys turning; I rushed into the bathroom behind me, opening the cracked window, I could not let them see me; I climbed up, squeezing through the window and into a gap smaller than I ever thought I could possibly get through. I could hear them walking up the stairs, discussing the few products they had bought and moaning about what was not available today. With a scream of anger from the wife, I let go landing with a bounce atop of the shrubbery below. He yelled in vain that he never met this woman. As I made my way through the alley back to Tenro, I heard a slap so brutal, it would have been able to shatter crystal.

  Tenro was stood grinning as I walked towards him, whilst trying to catch my breath.

  “Brilliant work”. He said, I did not feel as though it was. I turned to see Markam and his wife coming out of their house; the tears rolled down her face, with words of bitter hatred filling the street for all to hear.

  We both walked past; Tenro looked directly in the eyes of Markam, lifting his eyebrows as if to say ‘you mess with me again and it will be a lot worse’. What an awful task I have just undertaken, I have most likely ruined a marriage; I do not even know if they have any children, but at the least I have broken love in two.

  “That will be all for today Avis, you have done wonders for my self-esteem; here have an extra fifty coin for a job well done, I may see you later at the stadium, good day”.

  There were more entertainers in the centre of the city than usual, obvious
ly trying to feed off from the event of the day; earning extra coin for their troubles. I was quite intrigued by the silver human statues; they had formed themselves into groups, merging themselves to form different objects; often changing to the bewilderment of the crowds watching. A group of fire breathers blew their flames dangerously close to the children as they passed, catching and smouldering the hat of a well to do individual; now that is a mistake they would have hoped would go unnoticed.

  An artist was busy at work, drawing upon multiple thin canvasses, creating the illusion that the ground had distorted into something completely trivial; whether it was a deep hole, or stairway that did not exist, his chalk knew no boundaries of creativity.

  There was a sign outside a newly renovated building, inviting all that dare to come in and to try and find their way back out. Interested, I walked over.

  “Will you dare enter the upside down house? Where all you see is not what you see”. Said the coin collector as he waved his hand and bowed down.

  “Why not, I have time to waste”.

  “Be careful, for the world may never see your face again; that will be five coin please”.

  Often carnivals that came to Malkaretz had similarly advertised venues, but they were portable, so not as large as this one would be.

  I walked up three steps, rounded at the base, and entered through the door to the right hand side. It was dark as midnight, but I could see a small light reflecting at the end of the corridor; like a fantasy with an escape route. I went forward and with a loud bang, a door slid from behind me blocking the way, causing echoes to follow. It was now vividly bright. I could see nothing but corridor after corridor, scarce of any features; this was truly a maze of an astronomical magnitude.

  I walked forward, heading towards the end of the first corridor, hoping to find a turning, but as fast I had marched forward, what I saw never came to me, I just merely kept walking in a never-ending parade of illusion. I began to run, but again, nothing. I looked up to see my body from below; the dirt on my shoes was quite clearly visible, I will have to clean them later I thought. Now looking down I could see myself from above, what sort of trickery is this? I suppose nothing is surprising in this city. Turning around I began to walk, this time I actually seemed to be moving to somewhere other than nowhere.

  Looking back again, the first place I was considering to go to had become much closer, yet also had the way I was walking, how peculiar. Still walking I glanced back; I could see that with every step forward that I took, no matter how insignificant, I came closer to what was behind me. Now I knew how this place worked, it was not long before I was outside, smiling at the coin collector; his face in disbelief that I had managed to escape so quickly from his trifling creation.

  The time had quickly passed by without regard for anyone and it was closing in on mid-day. Camerine was waiting outside the slaughterhouse, where I should have been really, but there is always room for a little bit of fun, no matter how rushed I was.

  “Hello Camerine, I see you are here early, did you enjoy everything last night after I left?”.

  “Yes, thank you. Shame though about all the scrubbing I have had to do this morning and I am not talking about the pots. So how was Mr Bullwort?”.

  “Let us not go there, I will just say I did things I am not proud of”.

  We walked towards the outskirts of the city, merging our paths into that of many of the city folk. The stadium was much larger than I was expecting it to be, reaching up like an entrance to the skies above; accessible only for a nominal fee of course. There were several entrances on all sides, to help keep the flow of people moving as best as they possibly could. Stands lined the outside of the stadium selling all manner of food, creating a wave of never ending carnal allures. We made our way to the front; pushing through many unorganised people, whom were stood there, hopelessly counting their coin up, to see if they could at all afford even the most basic of seats.

  “Where are you to be seated?”. Said one of the ragged guards, who was collecting entry fees; his tongue often sliding from one side to another, as fresh meat walked by.

  “What seats are available?”. Camerine said with a quizzical look and a tilt of his head.

  “We have the grand tier, which judging by your appearance, I am quite certain you cannot afford; so your options are either the secondary tier at a hundred coin, or the seats for the underprivileged at twenty coin”.

  “We will have the secondary tier please; preferably in the corner closest to the grand tier”. I said as I passed over two hundred coin to the guard”.

  “I see, very good, here are your passes; next”.

  We walked through one of the many gilded stone arches that acted as entrances to the stadium and sought out our seats, which were marked by numbers and symbols

  “So, why did you pay for me Avis? You know I could have paid for the seat myself”.

  “Well if I cannot treat a friend, who can I treat?”. I said giving him a pat on the shoulder.

  The pink sky had drawn all the clouds away from above the stadium; as if the gods were watching intently from above, pinching away any stray clouds as they drifted by. There was chanting among the crowds, as they became excited for the event(s); cheering for their favourite individual(s).

  “Silence”.

  Hecate rose from her seat, her voice magnified by her power for all to hear.

  “May all here present, raise in thanks that our great games have been possible again this year. You, as citizens of this city, are the honouree guests and we thank you graciously for permitting time from your drudgery to be with us today, to witness this spectacular occasion”.

  Hecate lifted up her arms, embracing the fire within; it erupted, filling the stadium in flumes that rode on the wings of immense birds, gently caressing the tips of paradises lost, then shrinking into a single point, exploding in a colourful display of her royal powers.

  Musicians rode out, drawn by the might of a hundred horses, all as white as the midwinter’s snow, uniformed in stride and direction they routed their way around the stadium, giving rule unto their music as it came into the world in faultless harmony. Then came the march of many. The greatest conjurers of magick this city, possibly even the world, had ever seen. The wizards of old, held tightly onto their staffs, necromancers detained death in their clutches, witches rose up in an encirclement of supremacy and then a loud call was made and all around departed.

  The names of all were placed inside a container; they spiralled within a whirlwind of light, hovering gently down, waiting to be chosen. Hecate raised up the first two to do battle in the event.

  “Vuntrela and Zeroni”.

  A highly regarded witch and an equally authoritative conjurer of death. Silence crept throughout the crowd; I closed my eyes as darkness took hold of the skies; the symbols of evil slithering through my mind, reigning over me for the lust of blood. Shaking my head, I opened my eyes again to see hell on earth rising up before me; the corpses of the corrupted dead, crawling from infernal depths. Their bodies decaying, ate away by frightful creatures, leaving flesh lifelessly hanging. Encircling Zeroni, they bore vengeance on the words of her vulgar tongue, a pure predator of the lowest rank.

  Parasites crawled from beneath the feet of the Vuntrela; her eyes opening up to the door of madness. Their strikes blew away the crowds; the unholy revered, as side by side they roared for the sight of death.

  Each opponent struck with darkened desire, the mortals falling with each fail of their skill. The bones of the dead were broken and dismantled as Vuntrela cast forth magick, calculated to the finest degree. Zeroni, now exposed, it was not long before she was overwhelmed by the might that was cast towards her.

  The crowd leapt to their feet, their bloodlust now resigned for the time being. One of the stadium’s workers took the body of Zeroni away to be crudely disposed of after the event had finished.

  “Congratulations are in order for our victor, Vuntrela”. Said Hecate.

&nbs
p; The events of the day continued, the stadium felt soulless, sacrificing itself to hold these cruel games. I could see that Hecate seemed pleased with the proceedings, often urging on the contenders to be more brutal with their attacks; on the odd occasion she even decided to intervene, where her thirst had not been satisfied.

  “This is the clash everyone has been waiting to witness”. Camerine said as he pointed over to new contenders.

  The faces of the two wizards were locked upon each other; they had both fought many times together and now at the hands of one, the other would step down, resigning to the grave.

  A vault of secrets spat forth, a garden of tranquillity ripped from within and by the might of their staffs, a shower of awe eroded any judgements that had been placed upon the other; now clear in sight they showed their untold powers for all to see. Rising from the ground that lay beneath, legions of witches were formed, their bodies able to separate in two and re-join unto another. They sailed upon the skies with their great coiled wings, extruding potent venom below. Dragons of fire turned down to try to engulf the opponent, only to be quenched by the forth coming of ice upon their gallant stance.

  The battle drawn-out, it was acted out like a play, rehearsed perfectly; a strike countered just as if it were intended to be. Saleom gave the strike no one was expecting, one without magick, merely a strike given to unbalance the other; his staff becoming as a sword of steel, the death was swift, Saleom becoming the victor of the event, crowned the principality of magick, in a simple ceremony to be met again next year; to defend his title.

  CHAPTER 8

  Another day trotted in, for a moment I just laid down thinking to myself. I have always been a strong-minded woman, but something about those games had taken me a step back. It was as if no one even cared that people were being slain, it was just a form of entertainment to them. I suppose in a way brutality is only justified by society’s views; what may be cruel to one group of people, could be a sign of affection to another, society rules and this is one society that I am not too keen on partaking in the pleasures it gives.