Daily Writing Challenge @daily-writing-challenge Day 7
Melody's Wicked End
Melody wasn't the type of girl to sleep well. As her body erupted into the phases of womanhood, so did her restlessness. She often woke up at strange angles in bed as if her flesh wanted to join her mind in all the starry hopeful dreams that pulled her through the night. Sharing with her sibling in their family's cramped cottage was also becoming a problem. Her long legs always accidentally kicked her small sister in slumber, causing wails and sleepy fighting.
The sheets suffocated in the still humid night air. Melody scowled angrily at the black shadow of morning glory blooms hanging their bonneted heads from the stars outside her open window. They were bowed and missed the sparkling promise of ancient starlight blessing and teasing mystery no mortal could know. She wondered about other worlds and yearned for perfect hearts waiting for her eager desire to give hers.
Her mind drifted to Freddy, her father's farmhand, who just started working for them. He had a strong jaw that made her cheeks blush but with the gentleness of youth fresh on his face. His young muscles were already easily competitive enough to a grown man's. She wished he smelled better though. He didn't seem to understand good hygiene after sheering their sheep the day before. When he shook her hand and let it linger too long, the lanolin musk wouldn't wash off easily from her own. Something about this frightened and excited her. She felt violated from the careless disrespect of his stink even though the touch of his fingers filled her with wild thoughts. The urge to punish him for it rose. Angry that she was still thinking about this stinky pretty farm boy, Melody snapped the sheet off and snuck out of the warm bed.
She tripped loudly on all her books in the dark, catching herself on the wall. Books on dragons happen to be the largest in her small collection. As if their lore had to be physically larger than life too. Her favorites were the ones with drawings of handsome elves next to their dragon form. They were meant to be educational so they were anatomically correct and nude for illustration purposes. Her finger would trace the parts of men she had never seen with her own eyes in fear and look longingly at the elegant beauty of women with heavy breasts and lower secrets modest by design, barely an artist's smudge. Fantasies about one of them coming to take her away from the farm and her own troublesome heart occupied all her longing. She would be special and a vicious creature would heel at her feet because fate would bind instant devotion. Her family would see never see her fly away on the back of her beloved to leave the boring small valley. She wouldn't miss the sweet songs of pond creatures and forest bugs. The smell of wet earth and apples fermenting. These beautiful constants only taught her prisons could be beautiful.
There were other books too, all borrowed from the library. Vampires and cryptids and creatures of many types. She wanted to know it all, to know there was more than her frustrating reality. Convinced the one she would give all her love to had to be one of these otherworldly beings and had not yet appeared. Mostly because the selection around her teenage desires was grossly dismal so far.
Melody used these as steps to quietly build to their window. She slipped out letting the shock of damp on her bare legs remind her she was now a wild thing like the night. Waking Freddy would be easy. The barn walls were thin and she knew he stayed up late reading boring books on husbandry and mechanics. Her disgust at his literary tastes repelled her the most. She wondered if his mind was boring. This would have to be tested.
Following the edge of the foxglove garden, Melody tip-toed like a fae in bare feet with her long nightgown bottom bunched in her hand over her knees so the dew would not soak it.
Settling near the large oak to shadow her ghostly figure, she watched the barn door from a distance and began to trill and sing like a bird. She did not know their songs by heart but this did not matter. He should think this was odd. If she saw his confusion and frown looking outside the barn, it would be worth getting her feet wet. She grinned and suppressed audible giggles as she waited for his investigation.
To her delight, Freddy appeared almost instantly. Her mouth opened seeing him shirtless with a weapon in-hand, tense with threat. The metal on the long spear flashed in oil lamplight as she drew in a little gasp. Instantly she started running, determined to make him chase. She trailed her retreat with a few more obviously poor bird sounds.
The hedge of forest on the edge of the field hid her but blocked the moment Freddy alerted a passing Scarlet company of three other men on the nearby road. His face was serious as he conveyed his concerns of livestock thieves.
She ran breathless straight into the dark expanse of a barley field, the tickle up her leg from the plant whipping by as she brought distance between Freddy's pursuit. He would see her in the field dancing under the stars and fall in love. Her plan was working perfectly.
When she paused to wait her brow furrowed at a strange hole in the sky. It was as if a shadow blinked them out in vast swaths. Slowly this defined clearer until with terror she realized this was a huge creature descending upon her. Her mouth dropped open and a small sound escaped her watching the vague outline of a black dragon circle her lazily in curiosity. Huge red eyes narrowed as the magnificent expanse of it nearly landed. Trembling, she began to whimper with awe, unable to move. The first roar it shrieked made her scream and crumple to the ground.
Men's shouts followed and ghastly sounds of ripping flesh filled the humid dark. Melody cried while trying to make herself small. Despair had settled her to quiet when she knew the silence meant they were all dead.
The crunch was sickening. Sounds of the dragon eating had her shaking so hard she could no longer think. Looking was impossible, her eyes still squeezed shut tight. Thoughts of her own death consumed her. She screamed when she opened them and a naked elf was squatting down with her, wicked eyes observing with irritation.
He was covered in remnants of gore, with a horrible handsomeness that curled her expression into confusion. This made him look scarier and more cruel. He didn't feel alone, either. Shadows like imploring snakes curled around her body in indifferent observation. Her breath hitched into hiccups, sniveling in misery.
"Please don't hurt me!" she begged.
The elven man huffed with pissy disgust, looking at her very strangely. He spoke in common with a thick elven accent, words hissed like he still had a serpent's tongue.
"You lured me like bait. Did they see me overhead and decide to use you to lure the beast?" he accused with his teeth bared. She did not answer, grief and shock silencing. "But I am only hunting for wicked men tonight. Not little girls."
He stood slowly, hovering above her, thinking of his mate and their own seed of a child. "This is not mercy. My child will not feed on innocence. She will learn what your kind cannot." Leonardo backed away slowly to ready himself for transformation and flight but her defiance stopped him.
"No." Melody shouted after him with a sob. She knew Freddy was one of the dead. Knew that this guilt would slowly destroy her. Seeing the beautiful wicked man of her dreams look at her that way spurred her to fury. He turned, eyes flaring with narrowed waiting.
"No." she repeated, clearer despite her shaking. She stood and addressed the being with a heaving chest, unable to do anything but fight. "Dragons are all wicked. Your child will be too!" she added like a curse. It made her feel powerful, like she could lose her mind and be full of magic by wishing it so.
The red glow increased in intensity at her words. Leonardo made swift connection to her with a mean snatch and sunk his teeth into her tiny neck with efficiency. Her life drained in a rush and tasted unpleasantly unripe. She was fruit that should have grown longer and Leonardo felt only sour dissatisfaction from her kill. Nothing in his stomach settled right anymore.
He dropped her in the dew and transformed into a dragon, scanning over body parts leaking into the barley grass filling the air with sweet trampled leaf and rancid blood. His clawed weight sunk into the field as he snatched the body of the young man that threw the first spear through his leathered wing. He hung like a limp doll as he flew off back to Tristan's tower.
When Leonardo arrived and dumped him on the terrace, no one was around. His mate's proximity to Roval bothered him easily in his already ruined mood. The shower was a pout of denial. Normally he would present the blood of his hunt on his body for his mate but he didn't want her to have any of the girl's blood. It bothered him, the entire encounter. He regretted her kill in a way that unsettled him deeply.
She did not appear interested in what he brought home and he could hear laughter from Roval's room. He bared his teeth openly to no one as he walked back out to the terrace. With effort he removed the heart of the human and put it on a tray he grabbed from Tristan's wine and burst back into Roval's room again without care. His shadows conjured a tight rendering of elegant elven wear, hair curls separated still by the steam of the shower.
He sat down on an nearby lounge uninvited in a languid slouch, feasting and picking on the heart like it was a roasted chicken in a pub.
Roval was propped up in his recovery bed, sharing sandwiches Ahnariel made as a snack. Both paused with surprise at his return.
Roval grinned with amusement at his uncle. His bad moods were entertaining now. Ahnariel had warned him about the purpose of this hunt. "Is that a wicked heart?" he asked.
Leonardo glanced at Ahnariel while he licked his fingers messily. He brooded for a bit with drama before answering.
"I don't know. I'm the wicked one. And I eat whatever the fuck I want." he replied with a nasty rebuke, not offering a bite.
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Leonardo's fingertips caressed one of the blades in the Dracone armory with affection. Eerie sapphire light from arcane torches lit the circular room, hallways spiking out of the marbled stone in the center like spokes on a wheel. Each was filled with a floating assortment of enchanted weapons so ancient and powerful they sometimes destroyed each other. Elven races had a nasty habit of imprisoning spirits and demons to wield on a whim and the Dracones were no exception. Several weapons lay burned and exploded, molten metal over the shelves below.
Leonardo placed down the dagger and looked at the sword he picked out, raising it up from the table with velvet padding. He was a bit old-fashioned in this way, finding an aged blade of Sin'dorei justice, one that service members used. Killing nobles was not to be taken lightly. Children were rare and their kind lived long. Murder was extra horrific among elves, reserved for the worst traitors. Only those corrupted by the void or malice were acceptable deaths. He put this blade down. It was too clean, too good for Draeth Ven'renn. There would be no honor in his death. His final moments would be so wicked the gods should turn away from the deed. It would have to be so debased it wouldn't be believed at all.
TW: Violence
He sighed, undecided. The Old Ways. Heathcliff's instructions were not made in anger. This was strategy, one he understood. Cruelty would have to be the point. A noise distracted him, a buzzing hiss that moved with desperation and panic. His ears tilted to it, leading him to one of the arcane torches. An elaborate, decorative cage held a burning ball of light and below it, a boring beetle in helpless struggle. The bug was drawn to the light, reaching towards it only to be burned and blasted away. The iridescent jeweled coloring was special. This was a queen, lost and alone. They were a troublesome pest, always trying to gnaw away at the roots of their roses. Manus destroyed them when his attention was drawn but often their slow, sneaky colonies eroded branches over time. An infestation that would have to be maintained as extermination seemed impossible.
Leonardo found inspiration in this, face curling into a grin. He opened the top of the torch cage and reached his hand in but the beetle skittered farther away, making it impossible to grab. He sneered and thought back to his education about this particular beetle, how the queens were unusually territorial and equipped for attack. A consideration occurred to him. He walked to the table and picked up the shining dagger. Angling it in the cage, he watched the beetle see its own reflection and jump on the blade with fury. Yanking it back, he pulled both in front of him and looked down at the hissing creature. It was obsessed with the reflection, oblivious to mortal dangers. Consumed with fury and destroying others like itself while bashing pincers at the metal, its pointedly singular intent never noticed how Leonardo experimented on it. His shadow magic curled into the tiny brain and he made it walk off the blade, falling with a plop to the floor. Insect feet flailed wildly right before he smashed it with his boot, squeezing ooze from all sides.
Itching to have a cigarette, Leonardo waited in the Ven'renn gardens sitting on a mossy bench under the moonlight. There were no guards on nightwatch, there was no money for that. The overgrown vegetation wasn't in complete decay, but neglect whispered of dwindling wealth. The golden windows played a boring scene of dinner, cigars in the lounge, sitting at desks and retirement to read in their chambers. There appeared to be only two men with a handful of tired servants. He cracked his knuckles and adjusted his uncomfortable ass on the freezing stone, waiting. This part was the worst, almost depressing. Leonardo never got the heart-pounding adrenaline before an assassination. Lengthy waits only made him more heartless.
Two lights were left. He approached the parlor window like a banished wraith, peering in. An older man sat at a large oak desk, glasses slid to the end of his nose. He appeared to be writing a letter. Draeth Ven'renn looked almost grandfatherly in his comfortable sweater, the softness of a tiring evening settling into his relaxed face. The elf yawned and still covered his mouth in politeness while being the only one in the room.
Leonardo decided this would need a cigarette, he couldn't wait. Leaning back on the side of the chipping stucco to the side of the window, he lit his habit and exhaled at the moon. Then he started to compose a letter, one that found itself coiling into Draeth's mind, overtaking his thoughts. The mind control slipped in so easy, so clean. The old man was already tired and a few whiskeys deep. Vice made everything easier. He implanted emotions, conspiracy. Draeth startled like he was having heart failure, gripping the letter in front of him and chucking it into the fire. Feverishly he grabbed another sheet, teeth bared and tears trembling down his cheeks. Shaking violently, the man wrote a letter to a general he knew that ran the Silvermoon Command. An old friend. Leonardo danced through his memories, finding delicious crimes and sentiments. It exposed truths and paused with nuanced confession:
Dearest Friend,
I confess I cannot live another day with this hidden madness. I have no more strength to carry these secrets down through my son, to make him take this burden.
For years I have been running criminal operations which have betrayed our people, our purpose and the Horde of Azeroth. You'll find upon investigation of my house a variety of failed operations under the client code name Red Fox. Both my son and I participated in these crimes as the evidence will show, but he must not shoulder this blame.
I have crafted him for this, and he is a victim. My hardness was meant to hone him for survival. I was difficult only to build his resilience to difficult men. If I will be allowed to take the punishment for us myself, please allow him the second chance I never gave him.
Today I will tell him my plans. Despite everything I have done to him, he is still a good man. He will always lead our house to honor and justice given the chance.
If not, may our house become buried by shame, if that's what it takes.
I will be waiting for my arrest tomorrow evening. All property and rights will be transferred to my son.
May the Gods Have Mercy on my Soul.
-Draeth Ven'renn
The vampire yawned this time, despite his cigarette. He flung the nub into the dirt and lit another. He made Draeth seal the letter he wrote with wax and his ring. Leonardo's gloved hand wedged open the window gently to let Eve inside. She flew in and snatched the letter, flying back out the window with her treasure to Silvermoon Command headquarters. Leonardo smiled at the next part of his plan.
He made Draeth write the same letter, then misspelled a few words and smudged it with ink. Staring dead-eyed calm now like an undead zombie, Leonardo squeezed his eyes shut to mind control the man harder. It was horrible being inside this mind. It was dull and empty and nasty. Pure ego and delusion. Boring in the worst ways. Intense with fear and paranoia. He gritted his teeth in disgust. Then he moved the man outside the parlor, creaking slowly in the dark to his son's hanging armor. Draeth's hand caressed the sword and removed it from the sheath. His footsteps were small and soft as he headed back into the parlor.
Leonardo opened the window and grunted fitting through. He almost knocked over a lamp but caught it with a relieved smile. Draeth wasn't regarding him at all, just standing still with the weapon dragged on the ground in the middle of the room wearing his fur slippers. Leonardo reached into his pocket and deposited a button from Roval's cloak on the carpet. It was standard issue, with the Dawnfire house crest. All his servants and guards had such buttons. Then he held the cloak in front of him covering most of his body. He couldn't enjoy this with the man unaware but that pleasure would have to wait. First, the plan.
Taking Rhuen's sword from him, Leonardo lashed at him in several spots, causing lacerations and blood to spatter on the cloak. He was careful not to injury him harshly. His flesh would have to remain intact for the Old Ways. The man made no sound, no emotion. He didn't even flinch or seem to notice. This was blocked from him, as Leonardo's magic soaked with command. Then he controlled him to awkwardly leave through the window, to Eve's crows which waited like executioners on the black icon fence. Their magic easily carried him away like cargo in the night, to the beginning of his slow demise.
There would be no goodbyes, no voice to taunt or explain. No care from anger or spite. Only questions with horror for answers. When one was beyond a Dracone's mercy, there was no honor or grace given at all. You became an asset to be used or bartered with. Whether you lived or died was given to the Gods as offering. It was understood that the god of death was the only one that haunted their shores and Draeth shrieked as he watched himself get closer to the rocky blender underneath the Castle's seaside cliffs. Leonardo's mind control faded with distance but terror only replaced Draeth's mind.
Inked-black protrusions from the roaring ocean froth were made sharp from erosion, the strange rocks becoming more dangerous with time. On a very large one a metal cage open from the top was still standing, rusted but sturdy. Eve dropped Draeth inside and with a flurry of wing and coordination, closed the lid to lock in place. Draeth wheezed with mania, speaking gibberish pleas as he realized what this was.
The view was beautiful. An elegant moon was high up and illuminating every soft cap of wave, every swaying pull of sea. Draeth crawled on the rock inside the cage, shaking, looking up at the shadow of the castle far above on the cliff. He had never seen anything so wicked and beautiful in all his existence. He wept loudly and begged. Promises were shouted to the Gods, curses and pleas. If he only knew how much he called to them, sang misery to their appetites he may have been quiet and lived longer. Perhaps this was the merciful death, than succumbing slowly to the elements. Sitting in the sun baking in salt water with no relief for days. Perhaps one Dracone was still merciful.
He didn't see them until there were twelve around him, beautiful heads bobbing in the water. Draeth gaped in wonder at the women glaring at him with bright, glowing blue eyes. He whimpered in confusion and exhaustion, fear edging into his heartbeat again.
They parted to let someone through. Larger than them all, a huge creature splashed out of the ocean and around the rock, shadowing the moon. The mermaid's tail was long like a dragon's, spiked and flourished with iridescence over ebony scale. From the top up, the soft body of an elegant maiden remained modest behind long, dark shimmering hair still moving like it was underwater, curling curiously, strands glowing with Elune's grace.
The tail was massive as it coiled around the rock and cage, fin slapping the metal lazily like a cat with prey. A beautiful creature accessed him with disappointment. He was far too old for redemption. Whatever wicked thing he had done against the Dracones would never be known to her, but this was the way.
"Gods help me, oh gods stay away from me!" Draeth shrieked, backing up to the other side of the cage.
"I cannot." a silken voice purred at him, a pitiless expression in her large eyes. "You called to us. You called to me. My name is Nesnora but you should think about things you love right now and not that name. You will not need to remember it."
It wasn't over as quickly as it should have been. When Nesnora's tail slid over the cage and opened the top hatch, the other eleven mermaids descended inside with a frenzy, yanking limbs apart and tearing him to pieces. The carnage was absolute and Nesnora did not move while her sisters fed. When only gore remained the untouched heart was picked up in her hands, blood running down pale wrist. It was full of blood and her magic forced it to keep beating, moving nothing but air in the muscle but trying anyway. She smiled. This was an introductory offering for the curious, beautiful red demon that haunted their shores, the one dying to become one of their legends. Her unspoken words would be known with the gift of a wicked man's heart.
Leonardo placed the bloody sword back in Rhuen's scabbard, making sure to flick droplets of blood in the hallway. He dimmed the lights and walked back into the parlor. A note was scribbled to Nubbins on a scrap of parchment:
Need anon report to S.G. of commotion at Ven'renn estate. Reports Rhuen is fighting with his father. Dawnfire men sighted. Emergency.
A knock on the door startled him. He rushed to the window and balled up the cloak, tossing it conspicuously in the bushes. He handed the note to the beak of another of Eve's crows. This was flown to their lawyer in Silvermoon. He hustled back out into the night, sneaking around the house.
Something made his spine freeze. The sound of Mira's voice and Rhuen shouting paralyzed him in shock until he realized he was running, leaping over fence and foliage to intervene. How was this possible? Questions spiraled to no where in his mind as he rounded the corner.
Seeing the woman that opened up so many layers of his heart struggling for her life at the mercy of Rhuen sent him into a fury. All his magic was forced to surface at once as he transformed an illusion of self. Just like Manus. This was the first time he had ever attempted this, and he made a strange noise as he roared behind Rhuen as the visage of Draeth Ven'renn. A boot barraged Rhuen's groin, stabbing pain making him howl with surprise, cry out with fury as he turned around to assault whoever was interrupting. Leonardo kicked him hard in the face, sending him sprawling on the courtyard stones. Leonardo sneered in the guise of Draeth. He looked exactly like him and Rhuen crawled back on his elbows, slipping in the pounding rain.
"You're a failure, a pathetic child." Draeth scolded with cold, fatherly disdain. He glanced at Mira, a deep compassion in his eyes.
"Run to the blue house south on this street. Go now." he commanded sharply. Mira's survival instincts looked intact as she stumbled away after wheezing, coughing for air. Holding her throat, she disappeared into the darkness.
Leonardo didn't want to leave her long. He shouted louder, to wake the few servants and rouse them to peer out their windows.
"This is all over, this wickedness. I will not tolerate such weakness. It is time I turn us in to save the honor of this house." he said with clarity to all that would listen. "You are unworthy, but you will learn what you should be." the voice of Draeth admonished.
"What?! Father?!" Rhuen cried out in shock, unable to understand. Mira long forgotten, his eyes roved wildly on the illusion of his father. "No! What?!" he couldn't manage a sensible rebuke. It was mad, illogical.
Draeth turned around and walked quickly back to the manor door. Rhuen was surprised at his agility, he looked frightfully determined. He ran after him, stumbling and shouting, demanding answers. Leonardo was quicker, and slipped into the parlor and back out the window. Rhuen would find an empty room, nothing but the parlor hearth still popping like someone just put a log on. His mouth was agape in confusion when he heard the Silvermoon Guard knocking on his front door.
Leonardo rushed faster than he thought possible. Sprinting to his horse hidden in an alley, he then rode south and turned around up the street towards Mira. She saw her dark prince emerging from the darkness, bucking to a halt as he quickly dismounted and moved to her. Their embrace was immediate and he lifted her, grasping and kissing her rain-soaked head that sobbed into the crook of his neck.
"Shhh, I got you. I had a bad feeling something happened to you. I searched for your mind and only found anguish." he sobbed back. The feeling, the tears were genuine; the lie was not. "Oh Mira, fuck, what happened? I knew something was wrong. My butterfly. Come let's get out of the rain. The Dracone Silvermoon estate is all ours."
He didn't give her a chance to answer, lifting her on the saddle. There was no trace of them as the snake wrapped his arms around Mira and hid her in the shadows of buildings too tall for justice to reach.
