The Pyre

That woman looked too familiar. I wonder what the old man is hiding and what business did that peasant have with him? My mind flashing back to her cradling her belly and then her face, staring down at the coin I tossed her, guilt reared it's annoying head. Enough of that. I make my way down the extravagant corridors leading to the throne room. Pushing through the doors I was immediately immersed in the moonlight that shone through the floor to ceiling windows. The throne was adorned with skulls of those past and of course, my father, Ivan Ishavek. There he sat, in all his pathetic sense of glory. He was from older times, having devoured countless souls of those he slain, he became impervious. All the court feared him, giving him reign to act on his desire to demolish society and create his own empire. We were at war currently for this reason, he cared nothing for his people, let alone his family. I could overlook it all, the mutual hate he held for me, the pain, the way he treated m

Growing up Misha and I always enjoyed reading these old books. 'Books of False' as we liked to call them. In their pages were stories of dragons, sorcery, and fairies. Misha wanted to be a dragon, he claimed he would be able to fly anywhere he wished, nothing tying him down, he could lay siege to any castle, set fire to any village, ruling over the insignificant ants that made up the world's populace. I on the other hand, wanted to be a sorcerer, with that I could make anyone obey me. My powers would be limitless, I could free us. One evening after my regular beating, Misha went through the effort of trying to surprise me. He did this often after I was beaten, guilt was always written on his face. I reassured him every time that it was not his fault yet every time, his face was the same. "I'm taking you to see a sorcerer." He stated jabbing me in the direction of his destination. "Misha, you don't have to-" "Hush now, don't spoil my efforts." He huffed. I let him lead m

I woke in darkness, beneath me was soft, could it be? A bed? I quickly sat up and checked my surroundings. In the corner of the dim lit room sat two very beautiful men, one with black hair down his back, his silver eyes piercing through me. He had a narrow squared jaw, a strong but delicate nose, his brows set in a thick arch. Wait.... My mind shot back to that day, the boy and his cold hands, it was him. I don't know if he recognized me but I did in face remember him. His face haunted my dreams along with the face of my mother, the flames.  The silver-haired one standing next to him, his eyes being the same as his brothers, stared back at me. He favored his brother in many ways, squared jaw, strong nose, but as he was a little larger, so were his features. "You're awake." The silver man addressed, cutting through the thick silence. Startled, I rushed off the bed to my knees. "My Lords, I apologize for acting so freely, I will accept any punishment." The world flew

After I had finished washing Pasha's and Misha's bedding outside, I hung them out to be dried. With them around, this place was bearable, I'd gladly tackle any task in their name, I owed them this. I hated being a slave don't get me wrong, but the brothers eased the pain of this. I was grateful, had God not blessed me that night, I'd have been long dead robbed of my skin, fed to hounds leaving not a trace behind. Watching the linens dry, I begin to think back on Misha, he seems to trust me more by letting me in his chambers. He's never been sentimental but in his own way, if you look very intently, you can see he has a hint of kindness. Returning with fresh linens for both, I expertly crisped the sheets to perfection, not a wrinkle in sight, the smell of fresh air lingering in the threads. When I was satisfied with another task completed, I sought out the brothers. I was to comb through their collection of books, discarding the ones too tattered to read. I wondered if I could persua

My back...knife..blood..everywhere... I fought against myself to open my eyes, when I finally did, I found I was in Misha's bed chambers. "Youuu idiot!" Misha. I shifted slightly to face him, such beauty even now. I made an attempt to raise myself, wait there was no pain, but how was that even possible? Pacing in a furious frenzy he stopped to look at me. "You have been spoken to!" His canines hung low, his eyes aglow, this was an entirely new level of his wrath. The familiar cramp of fear came in intense waves. My mind went to the Old Man's Lair, the life completely drained from me. He was about to speak again but I took the opportunity away from him. "What did you do? Did...did you take me below?" My scalp prickling once more, I was overcome with the same terror I felt that day. His eyes slightly softened, adjusting to a more calmer stance whilst his fangs retracted. "I did not." He bit out crossing his arms. I moved to the sitting position. "But how did-?" "T