The Blood King - Chapter Eighteen (Patreon)

Nymira

The water is chilly as I place my hands beneath the surface. I shiver in delight at the feel of it cooling my skin. For three days, we’ve been traveling to an unknown destination. In the time that we’ve been traveling, we’ve barely stopped for breaks and have continued through the night without rest. It’s fascinating, the way Ancients can travel without having to stop the way humans do.

Peyra and I could never travel continuously for more than a day and a half. She needed rest—real rest. Otherwise, she would get sick from exhaustion. But that feeling has yet to come over me. The only thing that has burdened this trip is the heat. And now that we’ve made an official stop, I have the river to cool me down.

I quietly take in my surroundings as I continue to lower my hands into the water. Peyra was right about the world being big. So far, we’ve crossed into another forest that looks vastly different from the one I was raised in. While the trees aren’t as big, they are still much taller than us, shielding us from the sun's rays. They are also more stretched out, allowing for more than just thick greenery to grow. I’m curious how much of this Peyra knew existed—how much of this she gave up to raise me and keep me hidden from the world.

“Veer lotna lyut!”

I tense as the sound of Cassian’s voice washes over the camp. He’s been barking orders in a language I don’t understand ever since we stopped, and his men have followed his orders instantaneously. I quickly turn to take him in across the meadow. He looks so out of place as he stands above the flowerbeds. His arms are covered in dark markings of his culture as he points to something else to be set up. He is clearly a king, just as he said. I don’t know how the culture of the Dragonborn works. Nor do I know if Cassian was part of this war. I know very little about him, only finding out his name right before we departed.

And he hasn’t spoken to me since, only shouting at me not to fall behind.

I pull in a deep breath, splashing my face as I look away from the intimidating dragonborn. He is my natural-born enemy, and very well could have had something to do with the war. But he is also my only hope at getting answers. And I want answers. I don’t want to live my life as an Ikniri cut off from her culture or even an Ancient who has no idea what that means.

I can only hope that Cassian has no intention of turning me in. Judging by his reaction each time I bring him up, the blood king must not be a threat to anyone these days. Or at least, he doesn’t command Cassian. That is the only thing that gives me a buffer at the moment.

“Auruna san.” I recognize the voice that greets me, standing to face him. Caius approaches with a small grin on his lips, bowing slightly as he stands before me. I haven’t seen him since what happened in the kingdom, and I don’t know whether to feel happy or angry.

“You don’t look happy to see me,” Caius says, his smile dropping.

I narrow my gaze, looking past him to Cassian. He’s still occupied with his men.

“You pulled a weapon on innocent humans,” I say.

Caius scoffs, raising a brow.

“I didn’t think you cared so much for them. Didn’t you say you were upset to see them living?” he asks.

“You know what I mean. You stepped in when I was trying to reassure them,” I say. “You made me look dangerous.”

“Did you not see what you left in the square? You are dangerous, Nymira. You’re an Ikniri without control,” he says. His words remind me of Cassian’s words to me just before we left the castle. He is keeping me at his side to protect everyone—Caius included.

I release a frustrated breath, stepping back as I cross my arms.

“Don’t you have a group to command?” I ask.

Caius is quiet for a moment.

“I didn’t come here to fight with you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I know what happened in the square wasn’t on purpose,” he says.

“Why? It’s not like we’re friends,” I say, letting Cassian’s words get to me.

Caius laughs, dropping his head. “I guess you’re right.”

He shifts his attention from me to Cassian, both of us watching as he gives commands.

“So you’ve officially met him then?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say, recalling the moment I laid eyes on him for the first time. My body reacts all on its own, each time making it impossible to fight the shiver that grips my spine. I slowly hold my hand out in front of me, studying my markings.

“The moment I saw him, I couldn’t move. Is that normal? Are all of you able to look upon him without fear?” I ask.

Caius looks away from Cassian to me, his eyes shifting to my trembling palm. I quickly close it, holding it behind my back.

“Of course,” Caius says softly. He doesn’t sound like he believes his own answer.

“I should get going. The king expects me to check in,” Caius says, much too quickly for my liking. I don’t respond as he walks away from me to greet his king.

It takes a large part of the day for the whole of Cassian’s men to set up camp. I am grateful for it, as it has given me time away from him—time to see what I am a part of. The camp has grown in a matter of hours. I knew Cassian had a lot of men. He is a king after all. But his camp stretches beyond my vision, and I’ve seen hundreds move about the site since.

The banner that flies still looks unfamiliar to me, but the same unease I feel looking into Cassian’s eyes courses through me as I study it within the camp. Suddenly, I notice a figure approaching.

It’s Cassian.

His expression is blank as he moves through his camp, his men bowing to him in respect when he passes by. But he is coming for me. His confidence is intimidating. His eyes remain on me as he approaches, not once looking away. I am shocked that he is coming to speak to me. Even when he announced we would make camp, he spoke to Ulric, and I overheard. But now he is walking towards me with intent.

I slowly stand, not wanting to be on the ground when he finally reaches, so that he can look down on me.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding yourself all day?” he says.

“I wasn’t hiding,” I say. “The heat was beginning to bother me, so I sat by the river. The water helps cool me down,” I say, holding his gaze.

He scoffs, moving past me to the river. He kneels, lowering his hands into the water, doing the same thing I did earlier.

“Every time I think you can’t get worse,” he says to himself, but I hear him.

“I wasn’t lucky enough to be raised among my own, like you,” I say.

He tenses, opening his hands so that the water falls out into the river before standing.

“That is what makes you lucky, Nymira. Had you been raised among your own, you would have died with them in the war. Or, I would have killed you when they brought you to my gates,” he says.

I ignore the core of his words. I am beginning to grow used to his cruelty.

“You speak with so much hatred for my people, and yet you kept me alive and punished my captors,” I say.

Cassian turns to face me, and I am glad his back was to me when I first asked my question. I wouldn’t have been able to get it out otherwise.

“I already told you, they were punished for not knowing their place. And you are more useful to me alive than dead,” he says.

“How can that be? You’ve only told me how pathetic I am for not knowing anything about my culture,” I say.

He laughs, pushing the stray hairs away from his face, his eyes illuminating with his emotion.

“And why would I explain myself to you?” he asks.

I narrow my gaze, letting the silence settle between us. Then, I turn to storm away. Or at least I try. I take one small step, and Cassian has my arm in his grip, his touch scalding against my flesh.

“You act with so much arrogance, it’s distasteful,” he growls out.

My heart beats wildly as my fear rushes to the surface. 

“Let me go,” I hiss, trying to pull from his grip. But it only makes him angrier. His grip tightens, and I flinch. I swear I can feel my flesh burning. An unsettling chill erupts in my chest, and I gasp.

Shock appears on Cassian’s features seconds before ice rushes to the surface of my flesh, and I hear his cry of pain.