A week passed painstakingly slow for our new Lord of Wrath. One would think that having to speak to the most mesmerising and skilled women in all the clans would be enjoyable, he would strongly disagree. Wrath had to endure countless hours of meaningless blather, and even more irksome, glaring away watchful eyes sent to parse his thoughts. He was close to bashing his skull in when he finally found what, or at least whom, he was looking for. The one worthy of being his bride.
Syrin, a member of the Envy clan, stood out among all of the rest. Her beautiful porcelain skin glimmered in the light of the hall, she had a glow to her that made her breathtaking. When Lord Wrath laid his eyes upon her flawless skin, he could not force himself to look away, an issue he had when it came to her. Syrin has always quipped his interest even from childhood, she was a formidable warrior and was the only sentinel that had come close to matching his skill set. At that moment she looked up, her white-as-snow eyes connected to his sea of blues. The power she held in them was carefully hidden, He knew in that instant that she was likely the one he would choose to be his Lady Consort.
He sat up straight from his slouched position in his chair when she entered the room. She was strikingly beautiful, but the way she held her head up and the amount of deadly power that radiated off of her was what held his attention. She had grown in strength by leaps and bounds since the last time he caught a glimpse of her.
"Who might this be?" He asked Granular, the Lord of Envy, despite knowing of her through their exploits together on the battlefield many moons ago, it was only proper to refer to the Lord of Envy for knowledge on his guest.
"Ah my Lord, this is Syrin, a very promising one indeed, she exceeds all the rest in our clan." He answers, his chest puffing out with pride.
"She's a foundling, found her when she was just a young lass.” He motioned to the young woman beside him. “Her family had just been murdered by members of The Fang Brotherhood."
This aroused Lord Wrath's interest even more.
"Murdered you say?" Wrath asked, he had always wondered what drove her forth. "Who raised her?"
"Why I did, my Lord Wrath." He supplied bowing at the waist.
"You have done a wonderful job, leave us be for a moment, I wish to speak with her alone." The High Lord ordered.
Excitement lit up Granular's face, this was wonderful news to him, Wrath very rarely asked for alone time with any of the candidates. It was also the first time today that Lord Wrath had requested to be left alone with any of the clans' candidates. He raced out of the room, likely to relay the news, leaving the two.
Syrin held her head high as she continued to make eye contact with her high Lord, seeming the picture of controlled confidence.
"Come closer." He ordered, leaving no room for argument.
She slowly made her way to him, her hips swaying seductively. His gaze dropped from her face to roam her voluptuous body. When she was within arms reach he pulled her down into his lap.
A playful gasp escaped between Syrin's lips. "My Lord, we have just met, is this not a little too bold?"
"If you are chosen we are to be married within a day's passing, you are to bear my young shortly after and you think this is too bold?" He chuckled, unable to contain his mirth as he ran his fingers through her milky waist-length hair.
"You are right, how naive of me," She sighed relaxing in his arms as a blush settled on her cheeks, "When would you wish to fully consummate the marriage, my lord?"
"As soon as possible, I shan't have people running their gobs saying that I can not please my woman, it is a man's job to do so after all." He exclaimed theatrically.
Wrath's gaze caught her blush spreading at the thought of the coming nights.
"You are truly exquisite my dear, I have not seen a beauty that compares to yours." He leans against her neck and, making use of a simple intangibility spell, pressed a singular kiss to her shoulder blade.
A shiver goes through her at his actions "Thank you, my Lord, I am truly honoured by your kind words, it is a privilege to be in your presence."
"Tell me then, little snowflake, why do you wish to become Lady Wrath."
"To bring honour to my clan, they have done much for me, and I have yet to repay them in full." She says with determination, in her voice. "To learn from and fight alongside a grand warrior like oneself, to be able to bear the next generation of Wrath."
Standing up she turns and lowers herself to one knee to bow. Looking to all the world, the humble vassal.
"I promise to serve you with my life, my Lord, to protect and eventually love you when the time comes." She raises her gaze to meet his eyes, her own shining. "If you pick me I shall not fail you, I will not fail you."
The doors fly open as the Princess of Embers and Wrath struts in. Herra, her beloved nought but a scant few steps behind her with a sheepish look on her face.
"What's this I hear about you choosing a bride without sorting through the rest of the clans' maidens." She asked, looking quite infuriated.
Wrath knew that the news was indeed false mayhaps the Lord of Envy, an ever-excitable man, was spouting his hopes and they had been twisted by word of mouth. He would not dare disrespect the other clans by not seeing the day through. Not so blatantly as to announce it before the night's end anyhow. Amused by his sister's outburst, he decided to play along and let her talk herself into a deeper hole for she would have to learn to respect him as Lord soon enough.
"She's so pale she looks sickly." She continued, "How could she protect your young when she looks as if she would burst into flames just walking in the light of Xal?" She snorted derisively at the woman looking down her nose at her.
"I tried to stop her my Lord, please show her mercy and turn your rage onto me." Herra pleaded, beginning to look more and more as if she wanted to jump up and clamp the mouth of her lover shut with her hands by the second.
Herra was a tiny slip of a thing compared to anyone else in the room, despite being in her early twenties she only stood at five foot nought. She had curly brown hair and stunning hazel eyes but what truly caught one's attention the most was the scars crisscrossing her ebony skin. Revealed by her near-transparent dancer's garb, she wore them like a trophy. Unlike her sister, she understood that those scars represented who she was and that was something she was not ashamed of.
"Not that it is any of your business Gabriella, if I had found what I was looking for in Scion Envy it would be my choice alone and would have nothing to do with the likes of you." Faux irritation was beginning to bleed into his voice, mayhaps he should have been a murmur. "She is a worthy Sword Maiden, as much as the many other women here to see me today, you shall speak of your potential future Lady of Wrath with respect and nothing less." He rose to look down upon his sibling.
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"I had no objections over your particular taste in lover." He spoke, turning his gaze pointedly at the suddenly very nervous-looking woman standing beside his sister.
She scoffs "No objections, you wanted to see her sent to the veil, at least my concerns are for the future of our clan and not for my own selfish reasons."
"Selfish you say, you knew of her past, my reasons were entirely unselfish…if anyone was selfish it would be you for leading a possible spy right to the clan's doors!"
"She's proven her worth!" She defended hotly at her brother’s accusation, face flushing.
"Has she now..."
"So let me prove mine," Syrin interjects, not caring that she interrupted a conversation between the two. "I challenge you to a duel, I might not be able to surpass the Princess of Embers, yet if I can hold my own I can prove my worth."
"You think you can come close to my skill?" She scoffs once again, smirking at the pale beauty. "Challenge accepted."
"I will not have my kin fighting my potential consort." Wrath snorts at her, his eyes shifting from his sister to Herra behind her. “Use her, she is more than expendable.”
Wrath sees the fury enter the eyes of his sister but before she could say anything Herra rests her hand on her shoulder, stopping the words from escaping.
“Let me fight in your stead, it would be my honour.”
"All right," Gabriella sighed, as much as she wanted to argue she knew that Wrath would not budge. "One match."
"Let the games begin." A sinister smile graced the face of Syrin as she stood to her feet, eyes gleaming.
----
The Heiress of Envy and the Blood Rose of Clan Love circled each other like starving Gacklos. Eyes locked on one another as they prepared for their duel. In a flash, Herra was on her opponent, a dagger flashing in her grip. A blade came up to meet it, forcing the blow away, the brunette raised a brow at the motion. Syrin forced her adversary away with a slash across her midriff. The other woman grinned even as the wound it left behind stitched itself closed.
The Scion of Envy did not give her the time to think, however. Striking out with her blade, the blow was deflected, only for a second strike to come from her off-hand. Herra grinned at the action stepping into the swing past her blade and stabbing at the other woman’s chest. Eyes wide, Syrin barely brought up her second blade to stop the blow.
Magic began to writhe in the air between them, thick and heavy in the very weave of the world. Herra narrowed her eyes as she stalked her prey, her orbs glowing with power. A hand shot out, and from the stone floor, a spear of crystal burst forth. The sharpened tip of the weapon shot out like lightning, aimed directly at the eye of the Scion of Envy. For a moment it seemed that Syrin would be impaled before a dark shape struck the projectile from the air. Around the Heiress the shadows themselves began to rise in writhing tendrils, snapping and striking at the air like angry serpents. Even as Herra danced around Syrin, slashing at her foe the shadows remained. Snapping out like whips against the aggressor, looking to ensnare the ever-elusive dagger wielder. Crystal blades struck from every angle, probing the defence, only to be swatted from the air no matter if Syrin could see them.
Clicking her tongue Herra stopped her assault, jumping high into the air. A split second later, her eyes flashed, and the ground opened up beneath Syrin like gaping jaws. The noble let out a startled yelp as her shadows snapped out to stop her from falling to the bottom. The living darkness piercing the sides of the earth she’d been swallowed by. As she growled in annoyance as the earth began to shift once again. Looking to crush her even as stone spikes began to grow from the walls, piercing her hands and legs.
Syrin burst from the trap, a force of darkness and power erupting from her. Glaring at her foe as black blades began to form in her hands, the signature weapon of the Mask’s elite. Gabriella took in a sharp breath of air when she saw the weapon, beginning to step forward to intervene. She would have, were it not for the mask of her brother turning towards her. Knowing her kin, he would use it as a reason to declare the potential consort as the victor. So she watched, stepping back, looking for all the world as her station demanded.
The Black Blade sang through the air, striking the dagger of the Blood Rose. Unable to withstand the strike, the weapon shattered into shards, Herra jumping away even as Syrin looked to cut her throat. As she was airborne the shadows converged on her, taking her by one of her arms. The assassin grits her teeth as she is slammed into the stone floor, shattering the rock below her from the impact.
Her eyes narrowed from the blow before she slammed her free hand into the floor to anchor herself. Unsheathing a second blade, with not a moment of hesitation, she brought it down severing the trapped arm at the elbow. Blood flowed freely as Herra kept away from the tendrils of shadow that sought to regain their grasp.
Syrin smiled sweetly at the other Sword Maiden, as her shadows consumed the flesh that had been offered. Her black blade was poised to strike her enemy even half a room away.
The fight continued for over an hour, two skilled masters of their craft, Love against Envy. The many hidden Sentinels of Wrath even came out of hiding to view the deadly dance alongside their comrades.
Herra's movements were swift while Syrin's actions were graceful and measured, the two were incredible fighters but it was clear from the start who would prevail.
The darkness became all consuming and soon Herra had nowhere left to run. The tendrils of shadows dug into her skin like hooks, barbed tips pulling her down to earth like prey caught in a trap. Syrin strode towards the trapped Love Clanswoman, armoured boots sounding like thunder in the quiet hall. Even now, trapped as she was, the assassin tried desperately to strike at her opponent. Spears of crystal shot out at her, spikes of stone jutted from the floor and the Heiress of Envy stepped over the gaping maw of stone she had been trapped in once before.
Bringing the other woman to eye level with her power she readied her blade for the final blow. Raising a brow as she watched the Blood Rose bite into something. The shadows wrapped around her adversaries throat as Herra attempted to spit some foul concoction into her eyes. The woman choked on it and a black substance flowed from her lips in vain.
The Heiress of Envy handed her blades to the writhing shadows at her back. Syrin grasped the arms of the other Sword Maiden, before she tore them away, blood spraying along the stone of the throne room. The shadows raised like an execution blade, before coming down to end the story of Blood Rose. The blades fell, driven by the will of their mistress, but they would never find purchase.
Gabriella struck, the blow shaking the fabric of the world. Syrin hit the stone as if struck by a wrathful Goddess, the air driven from her. Fire sprang to life and the shadows screamed as they burned in the inferno. The eyes of the Princess of Embers smouldered in fury. The flames melted the floor around her, the liquid stone sticking to her boots as she advanced.
She would never make it to her target, with nought but a flick of his wrist Lord Wrath sent his sibling flying. His sister slammed into the walls of the throne room with a resounding crack, her spine breaking. Her embers extinguished with but a thought by the more powerful Blessed.
“I seem to remember saying that I did not wish for you to fight.” Wrath spoke, his words shaking the world.
“She wa-” His sibling ground out.
“Silence.” The Lord of One Thousand ordered and the jaw of the younger woman snapped shut.
He held her there, looking at her with cold indifference. Before turning his head to Herra, still healing, though she had been released. The Blood Rose of Love bowed down in respect to her High Lord, admitting defeat. Both she and Syrin were bloodied and breathing heavily from the hour-long duel. Wrath tapped an armoured gauntlet against the rest of his throne, summoning servants to see to the mess the battle had wrought.
Afterwards, Wrath congratulated Syrin and sent her on her way to tidy up for the revealing of the Lady Consort. The interviews continued for another hour or so but the young Lord could not seem to get Syrin out of his mind. She was a sight to behold both in looks and in battle. She fought like she was chosen by the Goddess of War herself. He was not ashamed to admit that it was her looks that had initially drawn him in. From her long snow-like hair and pale skin to her glowing white eyes. She was beautiful in an unusual way. Her beauty was what captivated him. But it was everything else that made him want to proceed.