Sins of Forbidden Love Pt 3

Meet Sicily and Francis.

-Betrothed-

Sins of Forbidden Love

Pt 3

 "...s he dead?"

 "I don't know, give me space."

 Fingers gently pressed against his neck, someone's warm breath tickling his cheek.

 "He's still breathing... and he has a pulse... "

 "That constitutes as alive right?"

 The light moved above him, hitting his eyes, and Ciaran felt the air shift around him; the person must have moved.

 "Yes Francis,... for his kind it does."

 "His kind?"

 "Human Francis, you know what a human is, I take you to the market all the time, don't play dumb."

 "Hmmm, Sicily?"

 "What?"

 "Why doesn't he wake up? And... how'd he get here if he isn't like us?"

"I don't know," Sicily's lips quirked into a playful smirk. "Why don't we ask him? Ikni!"

 A shock. Sicily's eyes flashed gold. Like a thousand volts of lightning surged through him. Sudden and direct; Ciaran gasped, eyes flying open, back arching, a burst of energy pushing against his chest, pressing down against the garbs that donned his back. A heady out of body feeling filled his senses, the air becoming thick, palpable, like an invisible film covering everything in its wake. Intoxicating, sweet and sour, dark and light, mysterious and seductive.

 Just out of his reach.

 Out of his grasp, out of his control, fleeting, ephemeral; it was over. The power dissiapated, disappearing, reverting to that natural state of untapped potential. Draining away. His mind cried out "No!", his body hungered for its touch, for the feeling of security and strength it gave him. A feeling that, now gone, left him powerless; empty. Worthless. Ciaran breathed, the near high his body felt ciphoned away, his muscles ached, his mind cried out for more. He was like an addict that had gotten his first fix. Never to be satisfied by a lesser substance again. He would do anything, pay any cost to feel that power again.

 Ciaran sat up shakily, the thin fabric blanket draped across him from shoulder to foot, slipping from his shoulders and pooling down at his middle revealing the damaged shirt underneath. He rolled his neck, wincing slightly as the movement worked the stiffness of the hard stone floor out of his muscles, his arms almost giving out, from the simple action, his coal black eyes taking in the room he now resided in.

 It was a simple place. One room made of stone, a thatched roof supported by wooden timber, glassless open aired windows, a light covering of straw strewn about the floor to retain just a mere fraction of the heat the cold threatened to take away. A stone hearth rested behind him; he could hear the crackle of flames and the warmth against the nape of his neck, pinpricks of sweat beginning to pool there. A wooden table sat in one corner a shelf of books beside it. Many more lined the walls adding a certain livable clutter to the place, adding character and inciting more curiosity in his ever suspicious mind.

 "What was that?" He asked, voice raw and raspy from the lack of use.

 The dark skinned girl, one who appeared to be only slightly younger than him if at all, looked up, her diaphanous garb leaving little of her physique left to the human imagination. The fire glinted off her golden eye shadow, dark chocolate eyes staring into him with the wisdom of a girl more than twice her age. Her hands lay in her lap and her hair rested on the top of her head in a neat bun, strange markings, characters he'd never seen before, scrawled their away across her flesh. He gulped, even as he watched they began to fade away, leaving her skin as silky smooth as a babies bottom.

 "What are you?" Slight fear evident in his eyes though his voice and body showed none of it, an aspect of his father's training surfacing as he dealt with the mysterious girl.

 The girl, Sicily, he remembered another person saying her name, a boy, one who he now spotted slouching against the far wall beside a large bed on the other side of the room bathed in shadow, cocked her head to the side and fixed him with a curious glance. "We could ask you the same thing."

 Ciaran's face scrunched in confusion. "What do you mean? I'm human. You said it yourself."

 "You heard that hm? Well then-," she clapped her hands together, "I beg to differ. You most certainly are not 'human'." Sicily paused again before continuing. "At least not in the traditional sense. Not anymore."

 She stood and for a second her form shifted, a temporary transparency a flash, as if seeing through some sort of veil, Ciaran blinked, surprised and it was gone. He couldn't help but wonder if he'd imagined it. "Then what am I?"

 She reached over him, her gown swishing over her body forcing Ciaran to turn away, grabbing the tea pot that rested on the hearth as a light blush dusted his cheeks, one that could be easily blamed by the heat against his neck, and hidden by the shadows dancing on his face.

 "Francis dear, please bring me the cups, we can't be ungracious hosts now can we?"

 The boy huffed and pushed himself away from the wall before strutting over to one of the cabinets by the table and taking out a tray of cups, the gentle clinking echoing in the room.

"We could ask you the same thing."

 Ciaran's face scrunched in confusion. "What do you mean? I'm human. You said it yourself."

 "You heard that hm? Well then-," she clapped her hands together, "I beg to differ. You most certainly are not 'human'." Sicily paused again before continuing. "At least not in the traditional sense. Not anymore."

 She stood and for a second her form shifted, a temporary transparency a flash, as if seeing through some sort of veil, Ciaran blinked, surprised and it was gone. He couldn't help but wonder if he'd imagined it. "Then what am I?"

 She reached over him, her gown swishing over her body forcing Ciaran to turn away, grabbing the tea pot that rested on the hearth as a light blush dusted his cheeks, one that could be easily blamed by the heat against his neck, and hidden by the shadows dancing on his face.

 "Francis dear, please bring me the cups, we can't be ungracious hosts now can we?"

 The boy huffed and pushed himself away from the wall before strutting over to one of the cabinets by the table and taking out a tray of cups, the gentle clinking echoing in the room. Ciaran's eyes followed his movements, it was slightly comical seeing him do this considering the vast amount of muscle that rippled right under his skin. It was like watching a bear pick up a flower. Or maybe cuddling a bunny rabbit it didn't intend to eat. Something ridiculous like that.

 Francis quickly closed the space between them and placed the tray on the ground beside Sicily who elegantly began pouring tea into the oddly pristine china cups. Ciaran kept quiet, watching the dark steaming liquid fill the cups one at a time. Sicily hummed quietly to herself and placed the kettle back on the hearth behind him.

 "Tea?" She asked.

 "What am I?" Ciaran repeated, his hardly more than a growl, ignoring the extended cup in front of him.

 Sicily cocked her head again. "No tea?" Ciaran glared, and Sicily shrugged, retracting her hand and placing the cup to her lips. She raised an eyebrow and took a sip. "Mmm -- delicious -- isn't that right Francis?"

 Francis fixed a steely stare on the young Biard boy before nodding in response.

 Ciaran made a face, lips scrunching in an obvious look of irritation, his fingers drumming on his lap while he watched them slowly drink the tea from their cups. "Are you going to answer my question?"

 Sicily continued to sip, quietly and delicately bringing the cup to her lips, before finally setting it aside, empty, on the tray. She looked behind him, glancing momentarily at the hearth before focusing her attention on Francis, waiting until he set his cup down to begin speaking.

 Ciaran's face remained an impeccable mirror of disdain as he watched the chocolate skinned girl's mind work in front of him. Why wouldn't she just give him a straight answer? He'd already waited over five minutes for her to finish her blasted tea! He was growing restless, the metaphorical ants on his legs pattering across almost every inch of him. He needed release, a release from this blasted conundrum that was the mystery of what he was.

 Ciaran huffed, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips, before growling, "just tell me d****t."

 Sicily looked at him, surprised by his outburst and replied evenly. "Well that's the simple part-- you're an Adept, Ciaran Biard, first prince, or rather, Lost prince, of Geata Ifreann." She smiled, the shock written on Ciaran's face mildly amusing. "Welcome to the realm of the Gods."

Author's Note

Okay pt 3 of arc 3 I really hate splitting up the chapters like this :/ But oh well apparently ppl don't have the attention spans for 15k+ Chapters *tears* This is tedious. Maybe I won't do this for the next part I suppose I can ask the like 2 people who actually read this their opinion lol

Reviews

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

Yeah, like your other reviewer I don't mind longer chapters. I feel your pain though, I get a lot of complaints about my chapters being too long (think 10 pages in Word) as well!

[Tsukin Archangel]

Lol well..... that may have held true for the first part (which is around 14ish? 6k words) in word but when it comes to parts 2 and 3 they are both 13k+ words each and that scroll bar is almost as small as my Sex is in Our Veins, semi series thing. (Idk what it is lol, I'm writing a continuation of it but eh lol not sure if I should write just transfer it over as a book or not lol) and yeah, that's where people really started complaining. Cause sadly, these peeps aren't like Fanfic readers who're like "YESSSS LONG UPDATE YESSSS!"

[crystalandra]

You know I don't mind reading a long chapter from you LOL...This is great. I take it from the italics that this is some kind of dream sequence as Ciaran is in the realm of the Gods? Again, I love the descriptions you have added as it makes it easy for me to visualize the scene in my head. Awesome work!

[Tsukin Archangel]

It's a flashback. For now all the huge blocks of text that are itallisized... is that how it's spelled? Are flashback sequences. I'm aiming to be done with the lost year of Ciaran's life by the end of the next arc. So that one MAY be marginally shorter than these (still writing that one whiccch is part of the reason I'm not posting all of arc three yet lol) I'm glad you can see it all though! That's my goal

[Coyote Poetry]

A very good chapter. I like the discussion. Human or not. I like the way you gave life to the characters. I like the frustration to find the answer in this chapter. Thank you for sharing the entertaining chapter.
Coyote

[Tsukin Archangel]

Oh yes I love the dynamic between Sicily and Ciaran. It's just entertaining. She's so... sassy. Kinda like Ciaran which is probably why he's irritated with her. Woot. Win for le emotions to peek on through!