Myriad
Chapter 12

Myriad thrust out his right hand, and an explosion of fire hit the row of guards in front of the stone cottage. The men fell backwards, screaming in pain as the flames engulfed them. Myriad hurtled another ball of flames at the guards on the left as they ran towards him. He held up his right hand, and a sword appeared in his grasp, arriving with a blinding white light. Myriad stormed forward, burying the sword in the stomach of one of the guards by the door. The other brandished his sword, attempting to protect the entrance. Myriad pulled his sword from the first guard and struck the other’s blade. He growled, throwing the sword aside, glaring at the man with a fiery intensity. The man’s eyes glazed over, and then he turned his sword on himself.

Myriad threw open the door, then thundered up the stairs. He snarled. The king is an idiot, thinking hiding them would work. He arrived on the top floor, met by four guards. He narrowed his eyes, then raised both hands, flinging them forward. Shards of ice plunged into the hearts of the men. He moved to the first door on the right.

Pushing open the door, he saw the queen sitting up in bed, clutching the blankets to her chest. Myriad left the room and banged open the next door. The bed was empty. He walked in slowly. The window was open, the curtains flying about in the breeze. He put his foot on the wooden bed frame and shoved the bed sideways.

Nothing.

He walked around the bed to the cupboard at the far end of the room. Myriad placed his hands on the door handles, waiting. He listened, hearing a faint whimpering within. He took a step back. Holding his arms out, he pushed out a wall of energy. He moved his arms swiftly to the left and wrenched the doors to the cupboard from their hinges.

Princess Carmel cowered within, holding her knees to her chest, looking at him with wide, red-rimmed eyes.

Myriad leaned forward and grasped her arm. He envisioned the front of the cottage, and they were standing outside in an instant, Princess Carmel tumbling to the ground by his feet.

The guards lay in front of the cottage, dead and dying. Myriad didn’t care who saw at this point. He didn’t care what path he left, what trail followed him. It didn’t matter anymore. It would all be over in a matter of hours. All that mattered was getting home quickly.

He walked several steps away so nothing surrounded him, shut his eyes, holding out his arms, and imagined the beast. A fire burned in his stomach, and he grew.

His body stretched and expanded, his skin turning to scales. Huge claws spread from his new feet. He grew and grew until he hovered over the others, all fire and power and strength. He looked down with enormous yellow eyes, then clutched Princess Carmel in his front claws, moved his wings, and launched himself into the sky.

It didn’t matter who saw the dragon. They could follow, but it would be too late.

***

Several hours later, Myriad approached the rocky ground at the bottom of the hill where his house stood. He flew down, released Princess Carmel from his claws, and placed her on the ground. Stepping backwards, he concentrated and changed back into himself. In a matter of moments, he stood before the princess. He walked over to her and grasped her arm.

He imagined his study, and they both appeared in the dark room. He spread out his right hand, flame appearing on all the candles. The fireplace roared into life after he threw fire at it, illuminating the room. He dragged the princess across the marble floor of the enormous chamber, then picked up a chair, slammed it before a black table, and threw her into it.

Myriad leaned back against the round table, looking at the girl. She sat as far back as possible, her legs close to her. She wiped tears away but didn’t stop looking at him. He shut his eyes for a moment and listened to the sound of her crying. He grasped the table so tightly, it hurt his hands. He took deep breaths, feeling so much… so much, that it cut into him. He gritted his teeth, his cheek twitching. It’s all about now. His heart burned. He was angry, angry that after all these years….

His eyes flew open. Myriad walked over to the princess, ropes appearing in his hands as he did so. He tied her wrists and legs to the chair.

“What are you going to do to me?” Princess Carmel gasped out, fighting the binding.

He tightened the last knot. “You know what I’m going to do, girl,” he hissed. “You know.”

He moved to his desk, grasping the black box that sat in its center. Lifting the lid, he looked at the contents. One glass bottle filled with a bright, shimmering green liquid. One knife. He held his hand over the table, and a wooden bowl appeared in a flash of light. He carefully lifted the bottle and removed the stopper. A pungent, sickening aroma exuded from it. He poured the contents into the bowl, then picked up the knife.

The princess screamed as he turned to her, fighting against her restraints.

He brought the bowl to her lap and put a hand on her throat to still her, and she whimpered but froze. Myriad flattened her right hand against the arm of the chair and pierced the skin of her palm with the blade, slicing down. Blood oozed from the deep cut. Bringing the bowl up to her hand, he turned her palm sideways and squeezed her blood into it. Smoke rose from the bowl as the blood hit the green liquid.

“What are you doing—what are you going to do to me!” Princess Carmel screamed again.

Myriad said nothing, turning and placing the bowl on the black table. He lifted his left hand, then cut his palm until his blood flowed. The contents of the bowl hissed and bubbled as he squeezed his blood into it. Smoke rose high, with a sickening stench. He stepped back, then threw fire into the bowl.

A blinding green light blazed before them, high and wide, lighting up the entire room. Myriad picked up the bowl as the light subsided and grabbed a glass from the table. He dipped it in the substance and took a huge drink. It burned his mouth and his throat, almost making him retch. He dipped the glass in again and returned to the princess, who twisted her head to the side, clenching shut her mouth. Myriad forced her mouth open with his fingers, pushed her head back, and poured the liquid into her mouth. She coughed and spluttered, but he put his hand on her neck, making her swallow. He threw the glass to the ground, shattering it to pieces. He stood before the girl, seething, rage consuming him. He shut his eyes, and the spell began.

A buzzing filled his body, a hum that reached his fingers and toes. He felt the magic fill him, the potion stretching his soul. He was outside of himself, more than himself. He glowered at the princess, sitting there, very still, breathing slowly. Myriad could almost see a green aura surrounding her body and knew it was time.

He picked up the knife he’d cut them with and stood before her. “You’re now joined to your closest blood relatives—your father, your mother. Every time I cut you, they’ll be cut. Every time I stab you, they’ll be wounded too. When I kill you….” Myriad leaned forward, pushing his hands down on her arms. “When I kill you, your father and mother will die. So feel afraid. I want them to feel it.”

She screamed as he raised his arm and stabbed her in the shoulder.

He lifted the knife again, cutting her, slicing her, inflicting years of anger on her. But as his own hands were cut in the frenzied stabbing, he wailed, tears pouring out. He cut her again, then dropped the knife, falling to his knees

It was supposed to be perfect! The perfect plan. She died with her family, and he would be safe because he was the last of his bloodline. Because he would be joined to nobody.

But he felt fear, and it wasn’t his fear.

He felt pain, and it wasn’t his pain.

He screamed, grasping his head. He clenched his fists, wanting to rip himself apart, and then he heard someone appear beside him. He raised his head. “You!” he screamed, lunging forward and crashing his enemy to the ground. He held Edward down, his hands on Edward’s shoulders, holding him so fiercely that Edward cried out. “You did this!” he screamed. “You did this! Why! Why did you do this to me! Why did you take him away from me!”

Myriad fell back, lying on the floor, covering his face. He cried and cried. He thought it would never stop.

***

Kalin sat against a tree, shaking, his hands covered in bloody cuts. He looked at Theodore, uncontrollable tears running down his face. “What’s wrong with me!” he screamed. “What’s happening to me!”

Theodore put his hands on either side of Kalin’s head, looking at him with sorrow. He took a deep breath. “You’re his son, Kalin. You’re Myriad’s son.”