Sifta pendragon

Silence filled in the gaps between the pouring rain, every so often a droplet would splash outwards over my tang Dao held to the crown prince’s neck. The royals and several nobles as onlookers including my mother watched on in horror. The prince didn’t move, the once broad smile wiped away, now looking at me with momentary agitation. Looking at him with eyes full of tears I asked “Why? Did she have to die?… it was your actions that caused my sister to die. Yes?” My voice was dry and rough. For a passing moment, I saw the prince's expression falter to guilt. I didn’t judge him, just sank my emerald green blade deeper into his porcelain clean exposed neck. Far enough to break the skin so blood would flow.

Withdrawing my blade I turned towards the king without bowing, I proceeded to speak with a hint of hesitation. “Forcing her hand was a grave mistake and I hope she comes back to wipe your kingdom off the face of onrath.” Watching the smile on the king’s face just fall in distaste had brought a smile to my lips. Though I couldn’t admit it I enjoyed these moments of discomfort, maybe because of the complexity of my past of who I was under this suit of flesh.

“I’m- I’m sorry sifta.” The first words to come out of a royal’s mouth were apologies from Lyra who stood up beside her brother proceeding to bow her head. I was left stunned seeing a royal apologize with some sincerity. I clenched my right hand in anger whilst gripping my tang Dao tighter. The leather-bound handle squeezed making a little groaning sound under the sudden pressure. Taking a breath in and then out I slowly unclenched my fist resolving my anger I placed my hand on Lyra’s shoulder.

“You shouldn’t be the one apologizing. Maybe I’m in the wrong for once.” I spoke twisting my tongue along with clamping my jaw to take another breath. “Dragons cannot stay in one place forever without an anchor.” I smiled. The wording was a bit off from the original but close enough for any to understand. It was an old phrase far older than even Camelot or the goddess Marin. Though this could spark a change, I've noticed another. Ever since Rias returned from Camelot the world started to shift, monsters became more common, yet a larger shift has become noticeable, the rise of a crimson moon. Forgotten history was being remembered even certain beings were coming back to life and have begun to rise anew.

Keeping silent I dropped my right hand turning to leave I mumbled a few words under my breath. The words made my eyes glow a brighter emerald with scales flashing across and around both my eyes. Thankfully not all of my other appearance became easy to see. Nevertheless, I didn’t let it bother me.

Resolving my instincts to the innermost parts of my core, I turned the bronze doorknob of the open sky-lit room, feeling its smooth texture I pulled the door towards me. The creak and whine of the oak metal hinges bounced off the walls not so silently making even the nearby maids jump in freight hearing Imra begin to scream like the child he is. Walking through the halls of the annexed part of the castle, I began to think.

‘It’s weird, that rooms inside the castle and it’s raining nonetheless the king had the skylight open.’ I thought walking down hallways using warm air mana to dry off the clothes I was wearing. Through the reflection in the windows from the pouring rain, I happened to notice a new scar had formed straight through my right eye. The scar had formed from a wound made by accident on a job nevertheless it showed I could get injured in a fight which according to my employer was rare.

‘Monster hunting has been tough recently.’ I sighed looking over my padded leather and chain armour. The armour I loved so dearly happened to be battered, scarred most notably falling apart to a point that it couldn't be repaired. It wouldn’t be good to do more jobs in this shoddy state. Then again it would help so I could focus on things like getting strong enough to avenge my sister and help the rebel’s efforts. I hadn’t been in contact with them for long, yet I knew about their plans to overthrow Lyron and his family. After my sister’s death, they themselves took a blow as my sister was part of their regime so to speak.

Up to now, I’ve never met a rebel agent in person, since Rias’s death the rebels have made their selves known in the noble world just enough to go unnoticed. Guessing it was time to meet in person, I reached for a rough piece of paper that was placed in my well-torn trouser Pocket. Reading the paper, I could roughly make out directions of an address along with code words through the now smudged ink. Having the paper for nearly a week gave me time to think also to get any of my affairs in order as well.

If I was going to join the rebels instead of serving my family, it wasn’t a hard choice to make. As my brother and mother had no interest in fighting against the king, this was enough for me to realize at least one of us had to do something about him. The castle seemed oddly busy for the time of day, but I found myself not questioning it knowing Yuletide was in full swing. The courtyard was the centre of Yuletide festivities ironically enough it was the least decorated area in the entire city. For once it was raining instead of bearing the blanket of white snow.

Not wanting to stay in the castle and courtyard any longer I moved directly to the place where I had to meet these rebels who wanted to see me at my leisure. The meeting place they had given directions to was a small pub in the downtown slums of Amaranth. The slums unlike its name were actually something to look at if you didn’t stare at the thieving kids, arrogant scamming merchants or the prostitutes. Not that I cared as I frequented a certain brothel for some “exercise” with the ladies. Many nobles hated me for that reason or the fact I did it knowing I’m a woman.

To my own credit, I was good at hiding the fact I would sleep with the owner of the brothel. I frequented which actually helped me get closer to the rebels. Now that I took a moment to think about it properly, she did drop hints here and there about the rebel movements, it just seemed, that me being in engrossed in her beauty that I couldn’t care to listen.

The slums smelt with a stench of burning wood coming from the smoke and substances known as the devil’s lettuce. Not quite the same as noble’s opium though it does have a stronger smell, one that clings to your nose. Walking through the drug den parts of the slums made me realise that the commoners here have only one escape which was either delving into depravity or drugs, even committing crimes just to survive. Moving through all this gave a new sense of this kingdom especially how Lyron didn’t care for what was happening. He doesn’t really care for his people, only the nobles that funded his obsessions.

‘The slums what a disgraced place’. I thought carefully stepping over bodies and homeless having to eat things like rats and in some cases even people.

…

Walking into the bar I was met with several eyes that locked onto me. The feeling from the looks wasn’t of fear or happiness more of intrigue and curiosity. Looking around it became apparent that Rias and I are seen as an urban myth. The reasoning was less far fetch than many would think, both knights and strong ones at that. The urban myth was probably made so the commoners could have a sense of hope in their depraved states which allowed them to live better and potentially even happier.

My sister’s urban myth was more of a guardian angel, a person who cared for those not as privileged as her. The rebels used this urban myth as a way to rally support saying that under Rias’s help, they can rebuild. That would probably explain why the common folk loved her so much and why they were most broken by her passing. This probably went hand in hand with why Malonis and Lyron wanted to get rid of her even if my sister had good reason to kill those royals.

I could not help but feel angry at this point settling myself down. Unlike me, she knew of these rebels and helped them. Rias hid her emotions but had compassion nonetheless was very caring for the weak and common. Not wanting to think any more about it, I ordered a very strong drink of whiskey on ice, making the common seem less on edge at my actions. Soon a dark red whiskey with a block of foggy ice came my way done by one of the bar maids who also worked weekends at the brothel I frequented.

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Seeing her up close drowned out all memories of seeing her as a noble daughter once, now kicked out of her home working two jobs to survive. Some would say she is a shell of her former self yet working as a barmaid and well a prostitute gave her more freedom than being a noble. Even though her clothes were more revealing with their industrial feeling she now doesn't get as many looks as she did when she lived as a noble.

“What’s your name now you are no longer one of them?” I inquired spinning the empty whiskey glass between my index and thumb.

“Wouldn’t you like to know… you can scream it later if you like.” Snatching the whiskey glass from my hand, I felt a faint smile begin to form on my face. “For future reference it's Leia.” She smiled lifting my head using her index and thumb held gently against my chin as she placed a full glass of whiskey between my fingers. She leaned in closely to wipe the wet hair from my face, closing my eyes I kept still rubbing my index finger against my glass.

The pub grew quiet as three gentlemen waltzed in looking pious not to mention arrogant. Seeing as these men were looking for someone, I gave her the look to Leia that she should probably run to the brothel. Hiding myself under the hood sewn to my battered armour I assessed the free gentlemen obviously from the king’s guard. I watched the three men look around kicking tables across the room to scare the common folk. A booming voice surrounded us exclaiming why the knights were here.

“If you don’t bow to the king… you will be killed. Not to mention the man and woman will be used in ways unimaginable by you lesser folk.” I gritted my teeth hoping Leia was at the brothel turning to the person whose voice it belonged to. I grew agitated seeing my brother remove his hood with a smile along his face, he had grown broader for someone who was once a scrawny mage. Scratching my nails across the table calmed the discomfort that remained inside my rupturing chest as I saw my brother. A pendragon. Willingly serve the king a descendant and betrayer of our family.

I couldn’t believe my eyes as he kicked and threw people out of his way until he made his way to the girl behind the bar not Leia but another brothel worker. The two knights beside laughed eyeing the girl. I hadn’t noticed until now that the knights were female posing as men to seem more threatening, which worked for the common folk but not for me who has killed beasts, men, monsters even dragons in my ten years of monster hunting life. My brother in his awakened state grabbed the girl and threw her to the ground. Something was different about him but I couldn’t place it.

I shot up from the bar which made him look in my direction. Using magic that I created myself I changed my voice and my looks, the mana helped me conceal my identity. Thankfully I taught it to Rias and Talia before all of this began to happen. My brother eyed me before turning back to the girl swinging his staff once that sent a spell down onto her creating a pulsating wave of pain throughout her body. He found pleasure in torture, ‘He has changed and not for the better’.

“Let her go. Sir Nick Pendragon.” I spoke in a more Western accent while intently looking my brother in the eyes. He paid no attention and continued to flurry spells which angered me further which seemed to be his intention, so I complied and unsheathed my blade. The blade I used for killing monsters. A silver raven steel Damascus blade that could tear through wyvern wings like razor blades being tested on paper. The hiss and scream of my blade shot throughout the bar as the two mage knights faltered landing on their knees in terror.

“Who are you?” He asked as I stepped from behind a roughed-up mahogany table. The blade shrieked as I dragged across the floor, sparks flittering off the point's edge catching edges of wood setting ablaze that quickly fizzled out. I stayed quiet. Watching the bar girl carefully I turned my gaze to the onlookers then onto my brother who asked again. “Who are you?!” This time more aggressive less calm overall less patient.

Cracking my neck once to the right I smiled. “Oh? How you’d love to know… maybe this will jog your memory.” With a swift motion and flash of neon emerald light along with burning lime-shaded flames, I was beside my brother with my blade at his throat. He was left stunned no doubt because I willingly used rift-step with people around me. A technique only used and learned by pendragons well a technique only Rias and I could use. I don’t know the specifics but from what I do know it uses our curse as a catalyst.

As the rift-step collided with my brother’s magic, a scream resounded from it. My brother spoke to me with a shaken voice. “Why would you betray the royals after all they have done for us?” It was at that moment I felt empty. I lost Rias because of the king killing her and my brother was now lost to him too whether he was one of us in the first place. For a moment I closed my eyes offering a few words I bowed my head away from him.

“I cannot serve them after they killed our sister and sent innocents to die just to gain land in a place devoid of life.”

“They did the right thing by killing he-!” With a twist of the wrist and sly foot movements, I sent my brother through the wooden wall of the bar into the rainy crowded streets of the slums. The mud became drudged up from his fall, the rain pattered down into the cobbled walkways beside and below his body. Gripping my blade tightly I made my way towards him not even using the effort to pull my sword to his neck. Nick was born eight years before Rias but for some reason, it feels as if he’s younger.

When my brother looked at me, he was astonished. It was definitely for the onlookers. A pendragon fighting a pendragon was strange enough, something akin to a myth but if you knew our history it wasn’t uncommon at all. My brother shook his head sending a plasma bolt spell at me. That bolt spell hit my right side twitching my shoulder, sending me back a few feet.

“Why defend our sister sifta?! She is evil! Wicked! Downright disgusting! She isn’t one of us!” My brother screamed for all to hear.

I spoke in retaliation at his words, using my own voice along with it being slightly deeper and darker. My dragon self-inside of me started to stir with anxiety watching for my response to my brother. “Because she is my sister. My flesh and blood someone I can follow from dusk till dawn. Unlike you, I haven’t tried to kill her…I’ve stayed my blade upon you till now. I’ve had it with your shit brother! It’s time you were taught a lesson in morality.”

A chaotic green flame whispered across my blade. My brother quickly got to his feet shooting spell after spell towards me, which I either blocked with my fire or my curse that could be used like a shield. Well, the thing inside me was doing so anyway. The onlookers scrambled in horror getting to a safe distance. Using my curse and draconic lime flames, I forced myself to riftstep just as I forced the mana into my hand forming solid claws.

“Let’s go for a walk shall we.” I smiled grabbing my brother’s head and resulting to slam him through several buildings into a large plaza where I would have more legroom to beat him senseless. Which did give him more room to have any chance at escape, but I wasn’t going to let that happen as long as I had room. As we both hit the plaza’s ground, I swung my claws sending a path of four claws directly towards him carving the very space between into quadrants.

“Conjuring claws is that all you’ve got?!” My brother asked screaming. Lifting his hand into the air he summoned a large fire lance that was amplified by his own hatred not towards me but Rias. The fire lance grew and grew to even a size that momentarily blocked out the sun. with a grin he flicked his hand sending the lance hurdling towards me. I had no choice but to use my second sword a primordial iron blade carved forge in the heart of the sea by its lady. Swinging the blade, I was narrowly able to stop it at the cost of burning my right arm to a crisp.

This forced me to drop my monster blade which was weaker by a stretch. Breathing heavily, I looked at my brother who I only realized now was stronger than me, his mage training paid off. A smug smile graced his cheeks. The cascading crimson flames covered the buildings around us eating away at the rotten wood and damp mossed stone. Gripping my collapsing chest feeling each sealing chain begin to snap. One. By. One.

Trying to stand I pulled the blade beside me plunging it into the ground to help me find my feet. Still breathing heavily, I looked him dead in the eyes. ‘Death is close’. Thinking my last I knew I had to grab my silver blade with the crisp butchered arm, taking my last breath I felt the mana around me begin to erode the earth. Through the flames I asked, wanting to hear the answer to a question I’ve had for a long time I asked my brother if he knew the truth about our father’s death.

“Of course, I know. He became ravaged with insanity after his curse activated. Though he isn’t blood related he shouldn’t have got it. This started to only happen after our sister was born! If you hadn’t stopped me, I would’ve stopped all of this and been successful in killing her!” My brother shouted for all to hear. I nodded in reply and using rift-step alongside swinging both blades I tore his magic eating it like a parasite. When my weapons connected with the staff they shattered like glass.

I gasped receiving a punch from my brother that sent me flying towards the water fountain breaking it in several places. Slowly getting up I grabbed just the remains of the sword speaking its name in a new form, not the sword I normally held but a tang Dao similar to my dragon sword. Its silver blade glowed brilliantly just as a little blue blade of eldritch magic shot through my stomach. I screamed out in pain feeling every inch of my body tear itself. Blood spilled from the wound and not normal blood. Not red or black like tramonic but green-tinted golden blood.

“Argh! Brother… I’ll kill you!” I tried to snarl through gritted teeth which made him laugh. Knights began to surround us. The princes watched on holding Anne and Corvus hostage. This gave me little choice to do much, I was out of options. Knowing I had so little choice I started a chant a spell that would show who I truly was. Everything halted as an explosion occurred, a spell I concocted whilst riftstepping finally caught up to us and destroyed my brother’s staff entirely making him turn his head in acknowledgment. Raising my head I met eyes with Imra who was reaching for his own spell in retaliation.

“Fuckin’ hell.” I groaned getting to my feet.

“You better be ready to run.” A voice spoke within me. From various angles, smoke bombs went off covering the entire plaza in grey smoke. Taking the chance, I began to run with a gaping hole in my stomach that my magic currently had little effect on healing. Suddenly hearing running footsteps I took one glance to see behind me and saw knights. Following the blood dripping on the ground. Groaning in annoyance not just in pain I didn’t stop forcing myself to move as quickly as possible despite the pain racking around my entire body.

Turning corner after corner, I made my way towards a rotten corpse aroma that covered the entire area I was in near the canal that flowed through the slums. Not liking where I was going, I healed my wound the best I could. Coming to a halt I looked at the mucky brown water, cracking my head once more.

“Well fuck.” I chuckled jumping into the canal to be free from the gleaming red tide brainless knights.