The chill of the early morning dew nipped at Syrin’s skin as she stood on the balcony of the room she would now be sharing with her new husband. Her snow white skin was aglow with a beautiful otherworldly shimmer under the light of the twin moons. Wrath watched her from his spot in the doorway, his eyes travelling over every inch of her exposed body. The see through negligee that she had on did very little to conceal what was underneath. The Lord had been bombarded for half the day with questions and fears from his Vassals. Eventually, the meeting had been adjourned, each ruler departing to plan for what was ahead.
For his part, he had returned to his bedchambers with a swiftness that gained him odd looks from the maids. The lord cared not, the meeting had taken far longer than he anticipated and he desired to see his Consort. Wrath half expected Syrin to be fast asleep when he entered, seeing as both moons were high in the sky. Yet when he saw her standing there dressed as she was, which was to say barely at all, and looking as breathtakingly beautiful as ever… Well, he couldn't help but become excited at the sight.
He strode over to his wife with purpose and took her into his strong arms. The woman hummed as she leaned into him, closing her eyes as she listened to his heart. Soon, however, the new Lady of Wrath pulled away from her Lord with a disapproving frown on her face.
“You are late, Lord Wrath.” She started looking up at the large man.
“Yes, and I…apologise for that.” He stated the words feeling strange on his tongue.
His Lady Consort stared at the words before she giggled at him, a hand coming up to ineffectually hide the action.
“You are not used to apologising to others are you?” White eyes glinting in mirth at her Lord husband.
“I…Can not say that I am, no,” He admitted, with a huff at her mocking. “Not something that I have had to do often.”
“Indeed, you were quite the taskmaster when you led the Black Blades of Wrath,” Syrin noted with a smile. “Even the Black Blades of Envy took note of how…uncompromising you were when you led your regiment.”
The Lord scoffed at that, looking up at the twin moons in the skies above. Thinking of days long gone, of battles won and enemies destroyed. Shaking his head at the thoughts he walked to the large bed that dominated the room. Sitting, he tapped his hand on the sheets inviting her to sit with him. She strode forward, pushing herself against his side, head resting on his shoulder.
“Tell me, what is it you want?” Wrath spoke after a moment as he brought a hand to cup her own.
“You will have to be a bit more specific, husband.” She responded, closing her eyes and humming a tune.
“In the future I mean, a thousand years from now, what do you hope for?” He corrected himself, curious as to what she would say.
“Hmm, well, in truth a large family would not be amiss,” She tapped a finger to her lips idly.”Yet I do not think that is what you are speaking of, no?”
“Indeed.” He chuckled, amused.
“For millennia Envy has been one of the stronger clans of the One Thousand,” Leaning back she took a moment to think.”In recent times, however, that has begun to change.”
Wrath nodded, it was no secret that a few of the smaller clans had been rising in power over the past few centuries. With the devastation brought about during the demon incursion of the fourth cycle many of the clans had lost substantial numbers. Seeing the opportunity, many of the once smaller clans had begun to grow in power and influence. Though there had been few true wars between the clans many of them had been pushing on territories for resources and influence.
Clan Envy, who had always specialised in intelligence gathering and espionage, suddenly found themselves in need of a strong military arm. Something that his consort’s father had taken to with a passion. Many things could be said about the rather excitable Lord Granular, but he did not do things in half measures. In only a couple hundred years he’d risen the clan to new heights and now Clan Envy had a force that could best most others.
Recently, however, he had been beset with setback after setback. His son and heir dead on the battlefield, his youngest daughter a sickly thing with a curse upon her very soul. Lesser clans prodding at his borders under the guise of patrolling the area for threats. Truly Wrath wondered if the man had angered one of the gods. Mayhaps Ryanair, God of Luck, had been slighted by the man in some way? It certainly seemed so from the outside looking in.
“We did not speak much as Black Blades, though I heard of your exploits.” He mentioned, thinking back on the many stories he’d heard of her battles.
“Me?” She let loose a laugh that turned into a snort midway. “They say many things about me, my lord husband, some of it is even true.”
“Did you truly beat a man to death with his own arm?” He laughed at the thought.
“...He deserved it, you would agree if you heard what the fool said about my Lord father.” She admitted with a small scowl.
“Oh and what of the time you throttled a Zucoo and used its body as a projectile to destroy a castle wall?” He looked at her expectantly.
“That…was not one of my finer moments.” She blushed, the colour obvious against her pale skin.
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“I don’t know, I have heard some of my clan’s instructors tell that story to young girls when they ask about strong Sword Maidens.” He noted, watching as the red in her cheeks spread down her chest and up to her ears at the words.
“Please no…” Syrin groaned, laying back on the bed, hands covering her face.
“Or maybe the time during the crusade against the necoma-” Wrath began with a chuckle.
“NO, not that one!” The woman sat up sharply, a horrified look on her face.
“...But I like that one, I was even there for it.” The Lord of One Thousand sniggered before he burst out laughing.
“Forget that one, it never happened!” She demanded, eyes narrowing at him as he leaned back on the bed.
“Yes my dear, indeed, that never happened.” He brought a single finger to his lips in a shushing motion.
His wife huffed at him, a pout on her lips at his mockery. Folding her arms beneath her chest she glared at him for his impudence. Before they both began to giggle at the whole situation.
“I think I can be happy with this.” He admitted out loud, bringing the woman against him with an arm.
“Here I thought you were a brooding man with no sense of humour.” She said, puffing her cheeks as she leaned against him.
“Well…when you make such cute faces how could I resist?” He poked at her, bringing a hand up to squeeze her cheeks.
“How indeed my Lord..” Syrin whispered, his eyes lingering on her lips as she spoke. Without a word between the two their lips collided, lighting up their bodies in ways they never thought imaginable.
They consummated their marriage the whole night through. For Syrin it was the first time she had ever given in to such desires and had lost herself in the pleasure and passion of the once forbidden fruit. Wrath on the other hand, although this would not be the first time he had laid with a woman, none before she had felt quite like this. It was almost like they matched each other perfectly, their links connecting their bodies and souls.
They both awoke the next day quite satisfied. Syrin rolled over only to come face to chest with her grinning husband.
"Good morrow, my beautiful snowflake," He said happily, getting out of bed and heading for the bathing chambers, he stopped before entering and turned around with a raised brow, bare as the day he was born. "Are you not to join me, my Consort?"
Even with her cheeks rosy she still held her head high "Just a moment, my Lord, I shall be right in."
His smile broadened, at her words he turned back around and vanished from her sight. Five minutes or so later the Lady Wrath entered the forever heated lavender scented pool. The Lord let out a pleased hum at the sight of her curvaceous body.
"You don't have to call me Lord." He spoke, amused. "As I said before, you are my equal now." He grasped her ankle, pulling her towards him.
She glided through the water only halting when she was straddling him. His member grew vigorously beneath her, vying for her attention.
"What shall I call you then?" She whispered bemused. "I have yet to learn your name."
"You can call me whatever you see fit." He whispered, leaning in for a kiss. "I'm all yours now."
Her core was set ablaze from the smouldering kiss. Wrath began to take things further but Syrin stopped him, pushing him away by his sculpted chest.
"Something is amiss." She declared firmly standing up abruptly causing water droplets to cascade down her body.
The door to their chambers burst open and a frantic-looking Devon busted in.
"Galliard is nowhere to be found!" He rushed in, not faltering at the sight of his disrobed rulers. "I went to go get him this morning for his training and his room was ravaged, we have looked everywhere and the young prince has yet to come up."
"What?!" Lord Wrath rages, the whole room trembling. "Send out our best trackers, find him immediately, he was inside the safety of his clan's walls, he should not have been able to be captured by an enemy."
He rushes out of the baths, a rush of cold air washing over him as he magically materialises clothes onto his body. Wrath wasted no time racing out of his bedchamber, Syrin and Devon not far behind.
"I'm sorry brother, I have failed you." He spoke to himself after failing to connect to his brother telepathically before shifting his target."Sister, we have a problem!"
“What could possibly be of such importance at the first light of Xal?” Gabriella snaps back through the mental link. Her voice, groggy as it was, was spiteful at the intrusion at such an hour.
“It’s Galliard,” Rage boiled from deep within him as he spoke those words. “He’s been taken.”
In a blink of an eye, Gabriella was beside him “What do you mean he’s been taken?” She booms, her eyes full of panic for her youngest kin that she held so dearly.
“What else could I possibly mean.” Wrath snapped at her, his glowing eyes glaring at the woman.
“How could someone have gotten in to take him!” The tips of her raven-coloured hair start fading into orange as her anger intensifies. One of the many traits she inherited when she took over as the ruler of her kingdom
“I don't think that they did.” Syrin pipes up from behind them causing them to stop and stare at the pale woman.
“What are you suggesting?” Gabriella demands just as it dawns on Wrath what truly occurred.
“It has to be one of our own.” Wrath, sighed out, the glow in his eyes fading.
Rage surged from deep within him as he realised that he had been betrayed. Once again, those that he should have been able to trust had harmed his kindred. Not long after the initial blow. First, his father was slain and now his brother was captured, this was an act of war and if it was a war that they wanted. Then it was a war that they would surely get.
“But who could it be?”