Blood, blood. Blood everywhere. Faerio skimmed the letter and tossed it onto a pile of similar letters without even reading it. Blood called to him from every letter that arrived this evening. Worse yet, a bag of new letters appeared every hour or so and each was no different from the other. Shrines, temples, known seers, mages and even some random people from all over the empire send him letters of warning. Beware of blood princess. It did not bode well for his bowel. He hardly ate anything. He just couldn’t. Not after reading through the bulk of the mail he received. Most letters were simple. A line or two of formal greetings then a word or two on the actual matter.
“Beware of the woman covered in blood.”
Sounded the most common warning send by troubled people polite enough to warn the emperor in a civilized manner. Others were more creepy, like sending nothing but “Blood” written in red ink over and over again. At least he hoped it was ink.
The final category of letters he read today encompassed the most descriptive and bowel emptying relations of meetings with “Bloody Mistress”, as he begun to call her. A savage, mindless creature laying waste to everything in her path. People, animals and beasts. All equally powerless against her.
He broke the seal on a newly arrived parchment unrolled it and tossed away without even reading it. Blood, blood followed him everywhere.
“An easy job they said… O ye of blooming bosom trice fuck me, this is anything but easy.”
Emperor Geadric had little tolerance for interruptions and no love for such news. Especially now, just day ahead of his weeding. Faerio slumped in his chair. Bothering the emperor in a day such as this equaled a death sentence. No. The meager change they paid him as the head of the seer office could not compensate such risk. Oh, the emperor will know. Just not now. Not yet.
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A gentle breeze brushed his face while a scent of moss grabbed his attention. He looked up meeting the gaze of unearthly beautiful, doe eyes and a wide grin of terrifying, unnaturally even teeth. The alien, inhumanly symmetrical face, framed by long pointy ears happened to be the last thing he saw as a loop of iron wire tightened around his neck and sunk into his skin. Cold laughing eyes watched him with sick pleasure while his world drowned in darkness.
“She is coming.”
“Wrapped in blood, cloaked in death. Bearer of madness.”
“She is coming…”
Cold, melodic voice rang in his ears as he cough and sputtered, hewing and fervently gulping air. Dead grass mixed with mud caked his cloths and face while smell of burning forest filled his lungs.
“Run little man, run. She is coming.”
Urgent and fearful, the voice whispered in his ears. But there was no time for questions as hundreds upon hundreds of forest dwellers emerged from between the trees and run. Run towards him. Run passing him by without paying any notice. Anything alive that could move, run. Horned, man eating beast passed over him with its tail hung between its legs. Everyone run.
Even the susurrus trees urged him. Run, run, run… Their flickering leaves cried. All but too late. In silence, dark, bloody mist spread from between the trees. She was coming. The Blood Princess was coming.
Faerio run, run with all the might he had. Run through the thickening mist. Blood, blood was everywhere. Trees, bushes, grass, earth and sky, there was none! Only blood, blood everywhere! His legs sunk deeper in thick red sludge with every forced step he took. Warm and disgusting, the blood of freshly slain stuck to his body, holding him for her pleasure.
Splat, splat, splat… Sickening footsteps echoed from behind. Slowly, he turned.
Covered by thick, steaming blood. Followed by death herself. Stone faced killer stopped before him. Dripping with gore, free of emotions, she watched him in silence. Madness, madness! That what she was.
As if in surprise, she cocked her head to a side and raised her arm, touching his forehead, sliding her bloody claw down to his lips to silence a scream that was not yet there.
His body itched, bubbled and blister burning away while she sucked his life out. In a slush, what was once him collapsed into a puddle and joined the ever-present, red sludge.
Faerio screamed. Screamed, foaming from his mouth.
The guards found him sitting in his chair. His arms spread wide on his desk. His palms knifed through and pinned down. Between his arms, using his blood, somebody wrote:
Beware of blood clad wraith.