The Menagerie Part 2

After being saved by Varg, Amaranth meets the rest of the royal family.

The Menagerie Part 2

“Amaranth!” Bell put a hand on her friend’s face. “Amaranth, come on, talk to me!”

“I’ll be fine.” Amaranth managed to gasp. “Help.” With difficulty Bell helped Amaranth stand.

“We need to go.” Bell said looking over as every handler in the area flocked to Varg and the dead dragon.

“Is he alright?” Amaranth whispered trying to catch a glimpse of the wolf-man who had saved her.

“He’s still standing, come on!” Bell slung the taller girl’s arm over her shoulders and supported her as they began inching their way to the exit. Outside Bell set Amarnath down on a stone bench.

“What was that?” Bell asked after Amaranth’s breathing returned to normal.

“I was trying to help.”

“What did you do to it?” Bell pressed. “What was that drawing on the wall.”

“It detaches your soul from your body.” The young witch explained. “If you rid yourself of your body you can see other souls and communicate with energy.”

“So you jumped out of your body and started asking the dragon’s soul if he could please calm down, is that it?” Bell rolled her eyes.

“Yes...” Amaranth couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Well don’t do it again!” Bell said after a moment of stunned silence. “... Is your hand alright?”

Amaranth looked down at her palm. It was still bleeding where she’d cut it to draw out the red ink. She could heal wounds with magic if she tried. She was rather good at it actually. But this one was too small to bother with.

“Do you have a bandage?” She asked Bell pressing her good hand over the wound to keep it from bleeding.

“Back at the room.” Amaranth noded and stood. Bell started walking back towards the dormitory wing just as a small crowd started gathering to investigate the aftermath of the fight. Amaranth did her best to keep looking at the back of Bell’s head. No reason for anyone to know she was involved. She kept avoiding eye contact with anyone until they were back in the small bedroom.

“We’ll need some clean water.” Bell said as Amaranth sat down at the primitive table.

“I’ll be back.” Amaranth nodded and Bell turned on her heel and left the room.

Now alone, Amaranth looked about the room. She found a small rag and decided it was relatively clean. Pressing the white cloth into her still bleeding palm, she sat back down and sighed. She had been in this place but a few hours, and she'd managed to get herself almost killed.  And what was going to happen to Varg? Surly killing one of the king's creatures was punishable. Poor Varg must have known that. Defeated Amaranth sighed. Varg had chosen to save her knowing it would get him in trouble, and she hadn't hadn't thanked him.

"Bell?" A firm female voice echoed through the hallway outside. "Bell!" Amaranth stood. Whomever was looking for Bell was getting closer. "Bell!" There was a knock at the door. "Bell open up!" Amaranth run to the door and flung it open. Before her, hand still raised to knock was a young woman of about twenty years old. She was truly a beauty. Long burgundy hair lay perfectly arraigned about her shoulders complementing her olive skin. She wore the finest of dresses, a long green gown with pearls sewn around the belt and collar. But the most eye catching thing about her was her face. She was ungodly beautiful. She looked as if some great artist had been appointed to carve her face to perfection. A wave of jealousy flooded over Amaranth briefly. It was almost unfair how gorgeous this woman was. But her complaining voice soon grabbed her attention.

"You're not Bell."

"No..."

The woman pushed past Amaranth and stormed into the room.

"Where is she?"

"She went to get water and bandages... She'll be back soon."

"She'd better be." The woman glanced over at one of the chairs as if to sit down, but with a disgusted grimace decided against it.

"...I'm Amaranth..." Amaranth nervously offered.

"Vanity." The woman sighed looking about the room distractedly. "When did you say Bell would be back?"

"Soon." Amaranth said quickly. "What is it you need her for?"

"None of your business." Finally Vanity's eyes fell on Amaranth. "What are you anyway?"

"I'm new." Amaranth said thinking of the quickest way to explain who she was. "The mast bought me as a pet this afternoon." Suddenly Vanity's passive glace turning into a piercing glare.

"A pet to do what?"

"Um..." Amaranth was taken aback. "To sing I think. I'm  a Nyx"

"So?" Vanity scoffed. "The master buys a priestess of the oldest religion in the know world and you think all he wants you to do is sing? Fat chance!"

"What do you mean?"

"Let me explain something to you." Vanity took an intimidating step forward. "The master has a certain way of treating us. Be a good little pet, and he'll keep you for himself and his brother. If you're nothing special he'll have other uses for you, and trust me it isn't nearly as pleasant."

"What are you talking about?" Amaranth asked confused. Vainty groaned.

"Don't play dumb! All you need to know is that if you don't impress you won't serve. But the second you start showing me up ." Vanity glared at her. "I'll make you wish you were never born." Amaranth stepped back. She was speechless. What was Vainty trying to imply? All she could do was stand there with the older woman glaring at her.

"Vanity?" Bell's voice came from the doorway.

"Bell!" Vanity turned away from Amaranth and advanced on the elven girl. "You owe me a favor!"

"Can it wait?" Bell pushed past Vainty and addressed Amaranth. "The master wants you at dinner."

"What?" Both Amaranth and Vainty gasped.

"He probably just wants to show you too his brother and mother, you'll be fine." Bell said unrolling a clean strip of cloth and wrapping it around Amaranth's wounded hand.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Bell took Amaranth by the wrist and urgently pulled her out of the room as Vainty began to protest. Bell ignored her and continued to drag Amaranth down the hall leaving the flustered woman behind.

"Do I look alright?" Amaranth found herself asking as she and Bell raced down the hall.

"You look fine." It didn't take long for Bell to guide them through the winding halls of the palace up to a great ornate wooden door.

"Wait here." Bell ordered as she took off running again. With no time to ask any further questions, Amaranth was left alone. She looked around the hall way. It had the same dark gloomy feeling that the throne room had possessed with black and gold the primary colors of decor.

She only had to wait a minute before Bell returned with a young man. It was hard to say who he might be by his appearance. His clothing was plan and uniform with the black and gold of the palace. His hair was clean and cut neatly so that his face was clearly visible. Yet even with the elegance of his dress he lacked the same powerful presence of someone of a higher rank. His face betrayed a more mild, understanding, demeanor and as he drew closer he greeted Amaranth with a friendly smile.

"This is Harry." Bell hurriedly explained. "He's the master's man servant."

"Nice to meet you." Harry smiled briefly then made for the door. "I'm afraid there isn't much time to explain. Just stay next to me and do not speak unless spoken too, and for your own sake don't stare at anyone."

"I won't, thank you." Amarnath nodded as Harry opened the door and splitted inside. Leaving Bell behind, Harry quietly shut the door behind them as Amaranth took in the sece. They were in a luxury dining room. Yet again black and gold dominated the torch lit room. A fire crackled in a stone fireplace at the head of the long table and several servants walked about  serving dinner to the only three people seated at the table.

Harry lead Amaranth to stand next to the chair at the head the table where the young king sat. To his left sat another boy, eighteen years old  perhaps, that was obviously the master's brother. On his right,  and ageing woman with silver hair and ashen skin.  

"Oh good you brought her." The master stopped eating and looked up at Amaranth and Harry.

"Borja what is this?" The old woman rolled her eyes and sighed.

"This mother, is a Laylocks Nyx." The young king cracked a smile as his mother's fork clattered to the ground.

"Borja!" She stared at her son in disbelief. "Boy what are you thinking? You can not keep that... that thing! Not here!"

"And why not mother?" The king asked leaning back in his chair smiling.

"You know very well why!" The old woman glared at him. "She's dangerous! She's not human."

"I have a great many dangerous inhuman pets." The king smiled.

"Borja, if you're father was alive that girl's head would be rolling around on the floor!"

"But father isn't here, is he?"

"That is it young man!" The old woman stood and glared down at her son. "The Laylockains are scum! They bring nothing but death and destruction. Just look at her! Her skin is so pale she looks like a ghost, her eyes glow like a dragon's. For the love of all that is holy, you are taking about a culture of barbarians that paint themselves with coal and blood and worship the angels of death! She's a witch, a low life, pitiful, restful, witch! And so help me Borja if you don't kill her this instant I'll do it myself."

The young king sat calmly sipping his wine as his mother ranted. When she finally fell silent he paused a moment as if contemplating his next move, then spoke coolly.

"Last I checked  Laylock was our people's mother land."

"And we left for good reason!" With that the old woman turned on her heel and marched out of the room.

"Well that was entertaining." The young king smiled after his mother had left.

"I think the new pet is rather pretty." The younger brother finally looked up from his meal.

"Yes." The kind laughed looking to his brother. "Tell me Ulric, what is your opinion of our mother's racism?"

"I don't see a point to it." Ulric shrugged. "Just another pretty girl. Who cares what color her eyes are, still a woman, still only good for one thing." The boy gave his brother a mischievous wink.

"And I suppose that one thing is not enraging our mother?" The king laughed boisterously.

"Not saying that isn't an added advantage." Ulric smiled proud that his brother found him so entertaining.

"I like where your head is at." The king smiled at his brother.  

"Just copying my big brother." Ulric's 'complaint' was met with a laugh and a playful shove from the young king.

"Now you're just trying to flatter me."

"Let me have a go at your new pet and I'll flatter you as much as you'd like!"

"We'll see about that." The king laughed. Then he waved for Harry to come closer. "Harry, I don't think we'll need the Nyx anymore tonight. You can take her back."

"Oh, come on!" Ulric whined jokingly drawing another chuckle from his brother.

"Yes sir." Harry nodded for Amaranth to follow him. Without saying a word Amarnath hurried out of the dining room behind Harry as the king and his brother continued to talk. Once outside Harry quietly shut the door and looked to Amaranth.

"Are you alright?" He asked tenderly.

"No..." Amaranth sighed. It was as if in the dining room she'd been frozen, locked in a state of shock and fear. But now safely outside of the horrible room, she melted and began crying.

"What is this place?" She whined softly as Harry guided her away from the door. "The old queen is racist and both her sons are pigs of men and I am their slave? Harry what's going to happen to me?"

"I promise nothing bad will happen to you." Harry put a comforting hand around her shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" Amaranth pulled away as her panic deeped. "Men aren't supposed to touch me!"

"I'm sorry." Harry retreated. "I won't touch you again."

"Thank you." Amaranth sighed as she began to tear up again. It was finally hitting her. She wasn't a priestess anymore. She was a slave. She had no say over anything that happened to her. She was no better then a caged animal and worst of all, her master was a cruel man who didn't even think of her as human.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Harry asked with deep concern in his eyes.

"I think I just need to take a walk... get some cool night air on my face." Amaranth tried to smile.

"I'll take you back to the court yard." Harry nodded and began walking down the hall. Soon they were back in the triangular courtyard. It was getting dark and they could just barry see the brightest of the stars peeking out from over the roof of the palace.

"I'll leave you to yourself then?" Harry asked.

"If you don't mind." Amaranth smiled. "Thank you Harry. You've been so kind."

"You're welcome." Harry smiled. Then he left and she began walking into the courtyard.

It seemed everyone else had long since retired for the night, leaving Amaranth to wander about the garden in peace. There were hundreds of flowers, some she had never seen before. She took time to visit each patch. Some of the flowers only caught her eye for a moment. But others took her off the winding stone path and held her gaze captive for what seemed endless lengths of time. She studied the intricate designs and patterns until she lost interest in each petal and moved on to the next. After a while she found herself on the other side of the garden right in front of the black wall of the animal's position.

The door was open just a crack, and as if some invisible hand was pulling her she walked inside. The sounds of sleeping animals filled the this musky air inside. Deep breathing and soft snoring echoed through the rotunda in a confusing whirl of sound. Most of the torches had been put out. But Amaranth could she see by the light pouring out of one of the tunnels. Interged she crossed the great rotunda and followed the warm light down a stone hall to what looked like a slaughterhouse.

There was blood everywhere. Some new stains, some old, but every inch of the floor was some shade of crimson red. Here and there empty chain lay waiting to hold down their next victim and whips hung on pegs as their tips dipped into the pools of blood on the floor. And right below the only lit torch, kneeled a young man with shaggy dark brown hair and his back full of evidence of a good whipping.

Hurried she ran over to him. The sound of her foot steps made the poor man look up weakly and their eyes met. How many times would her heart break at the site of the broken soul behind the Amber eyes, she wondered.

"Varg?" She found herself asking as she came within a few steps of him.

"How'd you know my name?" He asked in a deep raspy voice.

"Bell told me." She said as she kneeled down next to him. "Can I... Would you let me help you?" The wolf-man smiled a bit amused and noded. Quickly Amaranth found the lock on his shackles and studied it. It was a simple lock, only meant for temporary use. It would be easy to pick. So she searched about herself for a pin of some kind. She settled on a simple brooch that had been pinned to the dress Bell gave her. She took it off and began to work. In a moment Varg was free and his hands shot to his sore wrists as he winced in pain.

"My name is Amaranth." She offered as Varg tried to sit up straight.

"That's a Nyx name." He smiled.

"How'd you know?" She was taken aback. It was true that Nyx's were renamed upon their tenth birthday and giving one of the one hundred names of the Nyx. But how did he know that.

"I grew up on an island off the shore of Laylock." He said wincing in pain as he stretched his back too far.

"Let me help!" She put a hand on his back. She was about to scan her mind for the best spell to heal the wounds we her gaze met Varg's.

"I thought Nyx's weren't supposed to touch men." He stated simply.

"You saved my life today." She sighed. "The spirits will forgive me. Besides, you're the one that isn't supposed to touch me. If I touch you to help you the rules are more lax." Varg nodded understanding. Then he sat silently as Amaranth began a simple hex to fuse his split skin back together.

"I wanted to thank you for this afternoon by the way." She offered as Varg looked down at her bloody hands.

"You're welcome." He sighed.

"Why... Why did you do that?" She asked unable to control herself.

"Because you needed me." It was a simple straightforward answer, and Varg showed no signs he wished to explain further.

"Well... Thank you." Their eyes met again, but this time she saw something else in his deep amber eyes. A spark, a tiny light of hope and pride. For just an instant he needed to radiate the wild power that a young wolf should. But as soon as it came, it went again, and he was still the poor beaten dog chained like a slave. She found herself gazing wordlessly into his eyes desperately searching for the comfort of the strong young warrior that Varg had clearly once been, but it was gone.

"Are you alright?" Varg asked softly a minute later.

"Yes!" Amaranth shook her head. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to stare I..."

"That's not what I meant." He stopped her. "You aren't you." Again she was shocked.

"What do you mean? You just met me, how can you know..."

"You're eyes." He cut her off again. "Something's faded in you..."

"... you too..." Was all she could think to say. Was he right? Did her once sharp green eye show the doom her soul felt?

"... I can't say you will be alright." Varg sighed after a minute of silence. "But you will live." She nodded.

"You're very odd you know that." She smiled.

"Takes one to know one." He winked. She couldn't help grinning proudly.

"Is there anything else I can do to help you?" She asked happy for the first time all day.

"I'll be fine." He sighed. "You should get back to your room and get some sleep. No telling what tomorrow will bring."

She nodded and stood.

"Will I see you again?"

"Yes." They exchanged smiles once more then she turned a left. Absent mindedly she wandered through the garden back to her room. Bell was fast asleep. So as quietly as she could Amaranth slipped into her bed and tried her best to get some sleep.