Mythia: and the Awakened Beast Page 12

  “Understandable. A dying friend does make for a good adrenaline rush.” He smirked as she glared at him. “So, what if we do end up going to Trigonus?”

  “I suppose we’ll have to take care not to show our faces,” she replied with a shrug.

  Pileus pressed on. “I’m sure we could pay a certain someone a visit. I know you’re worried about him, Mythia.”

  This seemed to throw Mythia off guard. She frowned at Pileus. “About who?”

  Pileus laughed. “Oh come on, I know how you feel about him. I’ve known since you tracked him down in the tavern all those months ago…”

  Mythia seemed to be struggling with something, her eyebrows deeply knitted together. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

  Pileus was beginning to think she was being serious. “I’m talking about Prince Regulus.”

  Mythia’s mouth fell slightly open, her round eyes searching his face desperately. “Prince Regulus…”

  “Of course. Who else would I be talking about?” But then it hit him. The look of confusion on her face, her unfamiliarity with the name. Ustrina’s prediction. She doesn’t remember him, Pileus thought suddenly. Ustrina’s words echoed in his mind, “…its prey it takes in memories, in faces, those she knew well…”

  He watched his queen carefully and he knew from the complete lack of pain on her face. The prince was gone from her mind, along with whatever feelings she once had for him.

  “We need to go faster,” Pileus said, pushing his horse onward as Mythia did the same. Not only for Ustrina, Pileus thought. Now we need to make it back before you forget me too… He glanced at Mythia carefully, wondering how long she had before the last part of the prediction came true. “Until there is nothing left… an empty crown… an empty shell.”

  They laid on their cloaks around a fire in the Borra Forest surrounded by the beautiful white birch trees and multicolored autumn leaves. The clouds shifted above, momentarily revealing a full moon before another cloud glided back over it. The moonlight streaked across Lord Pileus’s face, his hazel eyes glistening in the dark, always watching his queen. She quickly shifted her eyes away from him, instead focusing on the dancing flames in front of her.

  The fire was warm, familiar. She grasped tightly onto that. She felt as though something in her mind was spilling out, dripping from a hole in the back of her head. She could hardly recognize the man across from her, and yet she knew that she knew him. More than just as a Rejicio guiding her to… to… gather feverfew for a sick friend. She clenched her jaw, willing herself to hold on to her own thoughts. It’s been a long day, she thought to herself. The longest day of my life… I think. She enclosed herself with her arms, willing to fall asleep, convinced that a good sleep was the cure to all of this confusion. The warmth of the fire soothing her, she felt her breathing slowdown in rhythm until she finally succumbed to sleep.

  Mythia stood at the peak of a mountain, snow swirling around her in a mist of white. She held tightly onto her dragon sword, waiting. A hand appeared suddenly from below, pulling itself up. It staggered onto the mountain top and lifted its head. It was completely faceless. Mythia gasped and clutched more tightly to the hilt of her weapon. Where there should have been eyes, a nose, and a mouth were patches of skin stretched over in a horrible crisscrossing pattern. As though the entire face had been burnt off and unevenly healed…

  Another hand slapped against the ground and pulled itself up, another horribly faceless being. Mythia watched in fear, as hands appeared from all around her, one faceless after another climbing and surrounding her in a circle. She noticed suddenly that they were all wearing chainmail with light blue cloaks and all holding swords. She felt herself shiver as they pounced on her, slashing their swords against hers.

  Then she remembered the sword wasn’t her only weapon. She looked up to the dark sky, a flash of lightening reflecting off the white snow, crashing down upon the faceless. She watched as they caught fire, as they ran around crashing into each other without the ability to see, flames licking around their limbs.

  Only one managed to remain undamaged from the lightening. One with pale, straight blond hair. It walked up to her, his disgustingly disfigured face watched her without eyes. She felt her heartrate quicken, felt herself pull her sword back, and heard the unmistakable squelch as her blade penetrated his heart. The empty face looked at her for a second, before a pair of green eyes appeared on his skin-masked face, in a moment of agony and anguish, but they were gone just before she could recognize them. He dropped to the ground and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

  Mythia jerked up, gasping. Pileus sat across the dying fire, still watching her carefully. It was still dark around the fire, but she knew enough time had passed; morning was upon them. She stared into the smoke, willing herself to push the nightmare from her mind. Her heart was racing. The faceless soldiers… whoever they were. The green eyes.

  “Bad dream?” Pileus asked quietly.

  Mythia cleared her throat, unable to get the stretched, burnt skin out of her mind. “Horrible… how did you know?”

  “You were talking,” Pileus said, still watching her carefully.

  “What did I say?”

  “I’m not sure you want to know.” Pileus stood up and started to kick dirt on the fire, dousing out the last of the white and gray burning embers.

  Mythia stood up. She couldn’t stop trembling. She took her cloak off the ground, now damp from the morning dew, and shook off the dead leaves and dirt before turning to face Pileus. “What did I say?”

  Pileus sighed. “You said, ‘don’t kill him, Mythia. Not him. Anyone but him.’” He threw his cloak on and slashed at the rope that tied his horse to the tree before hopping on. He sat tall on his horse. “I can only imagine who him is. But I dare say you won’t remember.”

  Mythia walked shakily over to Noctis and untied him with her hands. Her muscles ached worse than yesterday, as though every inch of her was covered in bruises. She felt the pain slash through her as she pulled herself up on her horse with a grunt.

  “We’re almost at the meadow, let’s keep a steady pace,” Pileus said without meeting her eyes.

  They galloped quickly through the rest of the thick woods, trampling over crimson and brown crunchy leaves, until they reached a wide, rippling meadow. But the wildflowers had already gone for the season- the long yellowing grass rippling with the cool air.

  “Just as I thought,” Pileus muttered. He tugged at the reins and headed south, Mythia following him closely behind.

  Just as the sun began to lower into late afternoon, they reached the outskirts of Trigonus. Pileus stopped suddenly, looking around.

  “What’s wrong?” Mythia asked.

  “We haven’t seen a single knight or guard the whole way here,” he said slowly. “The king had hundreds of knights scoring the neighboring woods. Why didn’t we bump into any of them?" Mythia sat silently as Pileus’s eyes landed on her before lighting up.

  “What?” she asked, noticing his wide-eyed stare.

  “They were looking for you…” Pileus said thoughtfully. Mythia felt again that sense that she was missing something, like a big chunk had been cut from her brain. Fear flooded Pileus’s face. “If they stopped looking… it means they know where you are.”

  Noctis whinnied in the silent crisp air, echoing against the autumn breeze.

  Mythia threw her cloak over her head and buried her face deep within it. It was a good thing she had become unrecognizable from nearly starving all summer. That combined with her black pants and tunic, she did not look anything like the Mythia anyone from Trigonus had known.

  They tethered their horses to the trees closest to the gate. Pileus fastened his light blue cloak beneath his chin and held himself importantly. He held on to a rope that was tied around Mythia’s wrists. The gates, for the first time in their memories, were closed shut, towering over them in thick, heavy oak doors with black iron handles. A guard stood on either side of them with their g
ray tunics, chainmail, and shining helmets. They each carried a long silver spear.

  Pileus cleared his throat. “I am bringing in a donatus for the dungeons.”

  The guards exchanged looks. One of them held tightly to his spear. “Was she alone?”

  “Yes,” Pileus answered, tugging at the rope that bound Mythia’s wrists.

  “She wasn’t with the group that escaped?”

  Pileus opened his mouth, slightly thrown off. “No, I found her using magic in the woods. She was alone.”

  The guard nodded and pushed open the door into the city of Trigonus.

  The rolling green hills stretched out around them, dirt pathways winding between moss covered stone houses. People bustled around, but there was something in the air that wasn’t there before. The city dwellers backed fearfully away from Pileus, whereas they would have once bowed down in respect. Windows were nailed shut with strips of wood, just like the windows in Monoceros. A multitude of damage spread throughout the city from burning fires, scattered earthquakes, and wind storms. They walked into the marketplace, which was eerily quiet, over half the stalls sitting vacant and unkempt. Pileus peered in whatever stalls were left until he found the last one selling medicinal herbs; green strands of dried leaves hung from the tarp. Mythia kept herself hunched over as she glanced around. She vaguely remembered this place, but pieces of her life here were quickly slipping away.

  “Mythia?” A knight wearing the same thing Pileus was wearing leaned in closer to her. He was short and burly, with dark hair.

  “Fort!” Pileus laughed. He pulled him aside, away from the curious eyes of the old lady selling the herbs. “We’re incognito… only here to buy some herbs.”

  Fort looked at them both incredulously and swallowed. “You’re both probably the two most wanted people in the kingdom right now.” His deep voice was so quiet they could hardly hear him. “Anyway…” He peered up at Pileus. “Where have you been? Partying it up with the queen while I tend to your duties as well as mine?” He smiled brightly at his friend.

  Pileus smiled back. “If you want to come back with us, I have no objection.”

  “Nah, my place is here with the prince. He needs me now, more than ever,” Fort said.

  “What’s happened since I left?” Pileus asked, keeping his voice down.

  Fort glanced back and forth to check that no one was listening. “Regulus was let out of the dungeons… he apologized to his father. Claims he was just being an idiot and was heartfully sorry. Anyway, the king got Ulric to bring all the knights back so Regulus can train them. For battle.”

  “So that’s why we didn’t bump into anyone on our way here,” Pileus speculated. “Why train for battle?”

  Fort leaned in even closer, lowering his voice even more. “Apparently the Rejicio have an army. A huge army. The king wants us to be prepared in case they attack.” Mythia fidgeted.

  “And how is Regulus treating all of this?” Pileus asked carefully.

  “He’s taken sides with the king.” Fort’s eyes flickered quickly to Mythia. “He’s sworn allegiance to his new ways.”

  Pileus frowned and stepped back. “Thank you, Sir Fort. I hope we shall be in touch again shortly.” Fort squeezed his friend’s shoulder before bowing quickly down and continued on toward the towering gray castle. Mythia glanced at the massive structure, the pair of green eyes from her dream suddenly infiltrating her thoughts. She shuddered.

  The old lady at the stall quickly found the feverfew and gave Pileus a big bundle for a couple of golden coins. He pulled at Mythia’s rope, smirking sideways at her teasingly. They stepped carefully down the dirt path and back out of the marketplace, his smile quickly melting away.

  “How are we going to get back out? The guard thinks you’ve taken me to the dungeon,” Mythia muttered under breath, peeking from beneath her dark hood.

  “I kind of figured we’d play that part by ear.” Pileus led Mythia to the gates, two different guards standing on the inside of them with the same chainmail and spears. They immediately crossed them together at their arrival.

  “Wait a minute…” the one on the left said slowly. “I thought you were bringing her to the castle.”

  Pileus shrugged, keeping his face relaxed. “They wouldn’t take her. Apparently, she didn’t have an ounce of magic in her. Whatever citizen told me she was a donatus was clearly wrong…”

  The guard on the right started to lower his spear. “You said you found her in the woods… alone.” His spear shot straight up toward them. Pileus threw out his hand, the earth shook as the dirt moved beneath the guards’ feet and threw them both backwards. He shoved open the door, pulling the rope binding Mythia’s wrists.

  The guards on the other end were ready, throwing their spears directly at them. Pileus yelled and clutched at his shoulder, falling to the ground with a crash, yanking the rope so hard Mythia fell down with him. Deep red blood spilled out of Pileus as the guards raised their weapons again. Mythia pulled the rope with all her strength, but the weight of the knight was too great for her.

  “Pileus!” Her screams echoed across the cold air. “You need to move!” Pileus, moaning in pain, pushed himself up, but the guards landed their spears again, on both of his arms. He roared in agony, but he finally let go of Mythia’s rope and she was free.

  A single flame engulfed both guards, licking them up quickly until their screams dissipated into smoky ash. She grabbed her bleeding companion, pulled him into the woods and shoved him on his horse. He somehow managed to climb on as she slashed at the rope that tethered them and climbed on to her own steed. They rode off to the north, as the sounds of shouting echoed behind them.

  Pileus slumped forward, his face completely drained of color as blood flew out of his arms and into the air behind them. Mythia watched him with worry, moved her horse as close as she could in the event that he falls. Into the cool air, the sound of warning bells clanged suddenly from behind them, streaking across the city of Trigonus with an ominous warning.

  Rain fell- the kind that instantly drenches the bones, the wind relentlessly pushing at Mythia as they rode continuously onward. Pileus was completely passed out; Mythia had tied the rope that was around her wrists onto him. She held his horse’s rein and guided both of them through the treacherous storm.

  She squinted into the dark curtain of water that fell like sheets of glass. We’re almost at the mountains… she thought desperately. She glanced nervously over at Pileus, dark crimson staining through his chainmail, his back moving so slowly she couldn’t even tell if he was breathing. Thankfully, Noctis had such an incredible sense of direction. The birch wood trees cleared out, revealing the small stretch of grass that led to the mountains. She could now see their outline within the rain, towering over them like ominous giants. The horses shot through the field before treading carefully over the rocks, their hooves slipping along the way, and into the entrance of the cave. Mythia slid quickly off of Noctis, not even bothering to tie him up, and pulled Pileus’s horse as fast as he would trot up the stairs, across the bridge, to the long wooden house that belonged to Titus. She banged on the door.

  A pair of sapphire eyes peered from within, the smile on his face immediately disappearing as he took in Pileus, drenched from both rain and blood, red dripping onto the cavern floor. Drip, drip, drip. He called for Titus, who rushed out, and the three of them pulled Pileus off the horse and dragged him into the house. Mythia let go of Pileus then stood out of the way watching, unable to move, as they laid him in front of the fire and tore off his chainmail and tunic. His skin was deathly pale and coated in thick crimson clots, his chest unmoving. Titus dumped a whole bucket of water on him, splattering half the kitchen in scarlet. Mythia stood by the door still watching, as the sudden, horrible feeling washed over her. She did not recognize the people she watched, or the room she stood in. Her mind could not associate with what was happening around her. She felt disconnected. Alone.

  She felt like she had invaded something very pri
vate. She backed away and put her hand on the door handle. The Doctrine glanced up quickly, his eyes landing immediately on the doorknob.

  “You’re leaving?” he asked, his voice barely audible. Titus was now tying pieces of fabric across Pileus’s arms, pulling them as tightly as possible to make a tourniquet.

  “I’m sorry,” Mythia said, even her own voice sounded like a stranger’s. “I didn’t mean to interfere.”

  “We could use your magic over here, Mythia!” Titus bellowed, his face shining in sweat as he tied the tourniquet tight.

  Mythia shook her head, not understanding. “I’m sorry... I’m not who you think I am. I don’t know how I got here… I…” The Doctrine frowned at her, but Titus scowled at Mythia before demanding the Doctrine’s attention. The moment they looked away, Mythia turned the doorknob and slipped quickly outside, the sound of her feet slamming against the ground making her feel uncomfortable as she ran as far away from that house as she could. She stopped for a moment catching her breath, completely drenched to the bone, staring around at the giant cavern with layers of houses glowering down from above.

  Mythia traced her steps back across the bridge and down the stairs, still running until a cramp in her side forced her to a stop. She swallowed, trying desperately to remember where she was. Who she was. Where she came from.

  “Bestia!” A deep voice yelled from across the cave. A man with red hair and freckles ran up to her, a look of relief crossing over his face. “You’re back!”

  Mythia recognized him, although only vaguely. Someone familiar. He looked her up and down, taking in her appearance. Soaked and splattered in rain and blood.

  “What happened? Where were you? We’ve been looking everywhere… is that blood?” He exclaimed. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to his side, studying her carefully. “Come on. You need to get into dry clothes. You can tell us then.” Mythia stared at him as he pulled her across the cavern. They passed dozens of people carrying buckets of water to their homes and children weaving in and out of everyone else. They reached the end of the line, a long house closest to the wall of the mountain. The red-haired man never letting go of Mythia’s hand, he pushed open the door and pulled her through.