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The Sanguine Chronicles Ch. 01

By: LadySanguine



"Light shines from the castle!"

Alina stopped brushing her long blonde hair to cast a doubtful expression at her elderly cabin mate. There hadn't been light coming from Castle Sanguine's dismal windows for decades. Alina had grown up in the village of Lyrisa, one of many that dotted the mountainous region known as Relicium, and she couldn't remember a single night where anything but shadows and darkness came from the castle. It stood like a bleak sentinel, halfway up the mountain that overlooked the village and the rest of the valley; its far side perched on the seemingly precarious edge of a cliff that dropped sharply into the sea.

Constructed entirely of dark grey granite, it had long ago been overrun by vines that crept like tendrils of some unknown evil, clinging to the walls on all sides. Rumors, legends, and ghost stories abounded as to why the castle stood abandoned, but no living villager, from the aristocrats to the servants, knew the truth. None had ever dared to enter it unless summoned by a Gatekeeper to perform some sort of repair or other task important to the preservation of the structure and its surrounding grounds. There wasn't even living memory of a member of the Sanguine family visiting the castle, let alone the village. It was known however, that there were at least three Sanguine Lords and from somewhere, far from the village, they were still exacting taxes on the people. Still ruling. Every harvest, a team of men all clad in black clothes and shining silver armor would descend on the village and take the portion from each household that was owed for the year. It was a frightful ordeal for most people and a dreaded time of the year for all.

So, it was with great trepidation that Alina realized the truth of old Corina's words as she peered into the night for herself. Indeed light shown from the castle's myriad windows giving the impression that some hulking stone beast watched them with hungry eyes from the shadows. It took everything in her to stifle a gasp at the sight and she couldn't stop her heart's relentless thundering. Nothing about the light bode well for them. It was like living near the base of a volcano and seeing the first meager puffs of smoke for the first time in ages. It was harrowing. A renewed sense of dread crept into Alina's soul. Not the usual dread that was a nearly constant companion, but something altogether different. Something richer, denser. Darker.

"Perhaps a Gatekeeper has come to inspect the old place for needed improvements?" Corina's frail voice asked, its brittle notes tinged with a hope that neither of them truly felt.

Gatekeepers usually came in secret, cloaked in mystery. The villagers usually knew of their arrival only once they'd been long gone. Only those who were summoned to the castle to make the necessary improvements actually saw the Gatekeepers and even then their minds were wiped clean of any memory of their physical appearance. Not once had a Gatekeeper come and made such a bold gesture to announce their arrival. No, this was something new. And new to most of the people of Lyrisa was almost never a good thing.

Alina shook her head. "I don't think so, Mi Corina," she said with a weary sigh. Her body was exhausted from yet another long day working on the estate of one of Relicium's wealthiest families. The Antonovs, whose patriarch, Grigori Antonov was a Knight of the Highest Order, were the most powerful family in Lyrisa. In the absence of the Sanguines they ruled the village with an iron fist, exacting their own taxes and enforcing their own laws. Alina was a maidservant in their house and her mistress, Grigori's only daughter, was little better than a slave driver. Yulia Antonov with her shining black hair and eyes of midnight blue was nigh irresistible to most males. But her dark eyes reflected a black soul. As ugly on the inside as she was beautiful on the outside and for some reason she hated Alina with a passion that bordered on pathological obsession. Alina didn't know what she'd done to incur Yulia's wrath and suspected that her mistress' hatred was natural born, having nothing to do with any action, deed, or intent on her part. No, since they were children -- Yulia was but two years older than Alina -- Yulia had been hell-bent on torturing her.

Alina suspected that her weary body wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep until dawn, but her sharp mind was now fixed on the puzzle of the castle's newfound light. She sat down on the windowsill and gently patted Corina's shoulder. "Go to sleep, Corina. I will watch for signs of trouble."

The old woman, who had been as a mother to her, wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "You need sleep just as much as I do, Piccola. Cease this foolishness and come to bed."

Bed? Alina cast a glance at the small cot that the two of them shared. It was nearly falling apart, riddled with shards of wood that threatened splinters at every angle. She couldn't help but to think of the opulent and over-sized bed that nearly filled Yulia's bedchamber. And it was just for her, not shared with another soul.

At length, Alina shook her head. "I couldn't sleep if I wanted to, Corina. Dreams beckon me with mysterious things I do not wish to encounter. I fear that seeing the light from the castle will only make things worse for me."

Corina's expression was one of worry. "You've been having the same dreams, then?"

Alina's nod was solemn and she shifted uncomfortably under Corina's watchful gaze. She watched as the old woman swallowed in...trepidation?

"Corina, what's wrong?"

But the old woman had already checked her expression, forcing a mask of calm to overtake her worn features. "Nothing, My Treasure. I just worry for you. That you are not resting enough."

Alina could tell that Corina was hiding something, but her mind was too full to even begin trying to unravel the secrets her companion might be concealing. She desperately wanted to pry the truth from Corina but she knew how stubborn the old woman could be and didn't have the energy to try. Instead, she reached forward and gave Corina's hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I'm fine, Corina. Really." She smiled gently at her and added, "Now go on to bed and I'll keep watch."

Reluctantly, Corina did as Alina bade her, her own weariness helping to force her to bed. "I will save space for you," the old woman said as she climbed onto the cot and curled up under their dingy quilt. She was asleep before her head even hit the pillow.

Alina watched the slow rise and fall of Corina's chest as a wave of sorrow filled her own. Corina was too old to be working the kitchens of such a grand estate. She should have been retired by now, but because of Alina she'd been forced to work her whole life just to keep the two of them alive. She would never have admitted this, but Alina knew it was true. When Alina's mother, as Corina had told her, had come stumbling from the dark forest that backed Lyrisa against the sea, she'd been heavy with pregnancy. No sooner than she'd laid eyes on Corina, the woman had gone into labor. With Corina's help, she'd delivered Alina into the world, but the grueling process which had gone on for more than two days had taken its toll. Alina's mother drew her last breath just she had drawn her first. The woman she would never know, 'Iliana' as Corina had called her, had come from the northernmost realm of Relicium, somewhere near the capitol city of Amaranth. This was all Alina knew of her birth mother. Corina was the only the parent she'd ever known.

As the night wore on, Alina felt herself nod off from time to time only to jerk herself awake. She refused to succumb to the dreams she'd been having of late. In them, a tall, dark, and mysterious man stalked her from the shadows. He beckoned to her, reaching for her with both of his elegant hands but she always ran from him. When she did, she could feel his despair and with each escape of hers, his sadness seemed to grow.

He was clearly wealthy. His cloak was a rich velvet of a hue so deep a red that it was nearly purple. The color of aristocracy. No, the color of royalty. He always wore a ring on the smallest finger of his right hand. It was an expensive silver metal with a shining black stone. She always noticed it because she suspected that it was a massive black diamond.

But even with all of his riches, he seemed miserable. She sensed that he pursued her because somehow he'd surmised that she was the key to his...happiness?

Happiness. This was why she ran from him. She knew that if she allowed him to take her into his arms, she would know it at last. That elusive emotion would be hers to enjoy, to fathom. Until she awoke. Slammed back to reality as soon as her eyes opened. And she knew that knowing that happiness, tasting it only to have it ripped away would be her ruin. So ran from him in her dreams and even in wakefulness, refusing to succumb to sleep. For she knew that he would be waiting: Her fantasy. Her nightmare.

A movement from one of the upper windows of the castle caught her eye and Alina peered harder into the darkness. A shadow on the back wall of a large room. It was the shadow of a person, a hulking man from the looks of it and he was picking something up. She heard a roar, one filled with such anger and despair that the hairs on the back of her neck bristled and her heart pounded anew. With a loud crash she watched as the shadow figure hurled a vase at the wall on the on other side of the room. She watched, holding her breath as the shadow shrank in size and knew that he was walking to the window. Suddenly, she was filled with alarm. Suddenly, she knew what she was about to see.

He appeared at the window and put his hands on the ledge as he glared over the village. Even from a distance and in the dark she could make out the piercing green of his eyes, could see their feral nature. And on one hand, gleaming in the light of the moon, was the black stone ring.

She thrust the back of her hand to her mouth to stifle the frightened and anguished gasp that bubbled from her lips. But it was too late. With the swiftness of an eagle, his gaze snapped in her direction. She shrank behind the windowpane as he surveyed the wide swath of land that belonged to the Antonov estate.

She could no long see him, tucked a she was behind the ragged curtain of their humble shack, but she could feel his eyes. She knew that he couldn't see her, but he sensed her presence.

A voice -- his voice -- carried on the wind and whispered through her mind, and though he spoke the old language she understood implicitly.

'I will find you, Ahlia. Soon."

The Sanguine Chronicles Ch. 02



When Alina woke the next morning, she was surprised to find that she was well-rested. The dark stranger had not come for her in her dreams and she wondered if what she'd seen in the castle window had in fact been another fantasy. Something conjured up by her overactive imagination and weary mind.

She sat up slowly from her perch near the window and stretched her muscles as she glanced around the shack. The greyish blue light of dawn was just beginning to wash into the one-room residence and as usual the soft rays on her skin had prompted her into wakefulness. She spotted Corina still fast asleep on their cot, her gray hair tousled slightly, strands even escaping the long braid that rested over her chest. Alina was about to move from the window and wake her companion when she remembered the castle. A shiver vibrated down her spine as she slowly craned her head to peer at it once more.

The lights were all out! The flutter of hope that the previous night was nothing more than a terrible nightmare had barely taken flight within her when she spotted the large and ornate black carriage that waited at the steps that led to the castle's huge doors. Four huge black stallions, their nostrils flared and puffing great clouds of steam, hoofed at the stone drive. They were eager to set out, anticipating the race down from the mountain. Somehow Alina knew that the carriage was no conveyance away from the village.

When she turned from the sight in fear, disgusted with herself for being so easily frightened, she found Corina awake and staring at her. The old woman's eyes were wide, the irises dilated as she surveyed Alina's face.

"I've run out of time," she said in a hushed rasp, her papery thin voice barely audible over the sounds of the morning coming to life. Birds chirping, animals scurrying out of their nightly burrows. The estate would soon be buzzing with life as everyone readied for a new day. A truly new day with an unknown outcome.

"Corina?" Alina questioned as she moved to sit on the cot next to her. She placed her hand on the woman's forehead checking for fever. When she found none, she set her baffled gaze on Corina's great brown eyes. "Are you well?"

Instead of answering, she sat up further and pushed herself to the end of the cot, throwing herself into a standing position. Alina winced at the popping sounds Corina's joints made as she set about pacing their small home. "I thought I'd have more time to teach you." Corina's eyes were haunted. "To warn you."

Alarm slammed into her. "Warn me?" Alina nearly squeaked. Her bright eyes, once aquamarine and then violet as panic suffused through her, were wild with fear.

"It's too late," Corina whispered as she stopped pacing before the window. Her back was to Alina as she gazed in horrified wonder at the castle and the carriage that waited. "He comes."

She turned back to Alina and added grimly, "For you."

Alina swallowed but her throat was dry and she nearly choked on the air she breathed. "Who is he? What can he possibly want of me?"

But Corina wasn't listening to her. Her eyes had a faraway look about them, as though she were remembering something from a time long past. "It is said that he will not know you by sight, only by touch or taste. He doesn't know who you are or what you look like, only that you're close." She gave a sob, "Iliana entrusted me to protect you. 'Guard the bloodline,' she said. 'Protect the Blood Throne's heir!' I have failed in this!" She muttered frantically. "May the gods preserve my worthless soul."

"Corina, you're scaring me. What's going on? What has this to do with my mother?" Alina was struggling for composure and calm, fighting not to launch into full-blown panic.

The old woman turned to her then, but her eyes widened in surprise when she looked at Alina. "Forgive me," she said as tears began to fall down her wrinkled cheeks. "Kulpa vitni est me volo, Mia Reglia!"

The language Corina spoke was old, one that Alina had never heard her or anyone else speak, but she understood the words: "Forgive my fault in this, My Queen!"

"I beseech thee!" Corina sobbed, crying harder by the minute.

A chill like none Alina had ever felt filled the shack. She could see her breath and stared in stunned shock as the tears on Corina's face began to freeze.

"Corina?" Alina was frantic now.

The old woman shook her head violently. "No! You cannot take me now! Do not leave her to this fate alone! Not now! Not after all I have done to keep her safe. 'Twould be for naught!" She was looking at Alina, speaking as though she we were talking to Alina, but she wasn't. She was speaking to someone else...to something else. Something that stood in front of Alina, and though Alina could not see this being, she knew that it was there with its back to her all the same.

And then she heard its voice. A soft, melodious voice so feminine and graceful that Alina wanted to weep at the sound of it. It too spoke the old language but again Alina understood.

"Fate has its plan, Corina. You cannot stop the tide from ebbing or crashing in and you cannot change fate. Not even one such as I has that kind of power. You have done well in this. I seek only to reward you now. Come, Corina. Follow me into the Ether and leave my daughter to her fate. To her destiny."

Alina felt it then. Felt this being -- her mother -- turn to face her and for a split moment she gazed upon a woman who was the picture of beauty. Her mother was a sight to behold with flowing blond curls so like her own and eyes that shone in varying shades of aqua and violet and rimmed by thick dark lashes. The delicate bow of her mouth was fuller in the middle of her lips, lending to them the same pout that adorned Alina's face. They could have been sisters.

Just as Alina was registering that this was the face of her mother, the woman began to fade away. But the touch of a smile was on her lips. "So proud of you, Mi Flaura," the woman whispered as reached forward to touch Alina's face. At the feeling of the feather-light frozen touch, Alina's mind snapped. The room grew dim and she crumpled to the floor.

When she awoke, the noon-day sun was pouring in through the window and both Corina and her mother were gone. She sat up and promptly gripped her head, struggling to control its pounding. Then, she realized too late that the pounding wasn't coming from inside her head.

It came from the other side of the door.



The Sanguine Chronicles Ch. 03



Balior Avdaci, the Sanguine Regent of Lyrisa and a Prince of Relicium, slowly descended the marble staircase of his new home. 'New' was a term he used quite loosely to describe the decrepit castle where he would dwell henceforth. An oracle had convinced his father, King Jorin, that Lyrisa was where he might find his mate. The oracle had neglected to say how long it might take him to find her in this sprawling village or whether or not she was even yet to be born. He'd been skeptical, resentful even, until he'd neared the village several nights ago and scented his mate on the air. Her fragrance called to him like a beacon and yet she was all around. He couldn't pinpoint her exact location, but she was near. Somewhere here in Lyrisa. And she lived. He felt his hardened heart swell slightly at the idea that somewhere just beyond the stone walls of this rambling castle, with its endless corridors and numberless rooms, his Fated female awaited him.

She would run to him with open arms, eager to staunch the spread of the darkness that thrived within him. Each day he'd been forced to spend without her, each hour of his long and relentless existence away from her soothing presence was dangerous to his soul. The longer he went without his mate, the better the chance that he would Fall, forsaking all honor and losing all respect for that life-giving substance that was so revered by his people.

Blood. He craved it even now. They all did. But if he were to Fall, he would not only crave its nourishment, he would become addicted to the process by which he procured it. He would take too much, killing his prey as he took from them what they would have freely given.

And they would hunt him. His own brothers. His father. His family. And his female would be left to wander this realm without him by her side.

So much at stake, and yet each day he found himself caring less and less about the consequences save for one. Her. He would never let her suffer. He would find and protect her, then spend the rest of this life and any that might follow cherishing her. She would know no pain with him. Only pleasure. Only joy. Only happiness. Even from a distance, even though he didn't know who she was, she was saving him. A treasure he did not yet possess and still she was already invaluable to him.

His heart had ached much over the week long journey to this village where mountains and sea met. He had visions of her running. Running away. From him? In fear? No, in sheer terror. He couldn't get his mind around it.

Usually, when he had visions, they were clear as day -- both in how he saw and interpreted them. But these visions of his mate brought him anything but clarity. He could see her, and yet he couldn't. While in the heat of the vision he marveled at her beauty, drinking in every detail of her, but when he came out of it he could not recall anything about her. Only that she was truly beautiful.

He also felt her despair, her anguish and he understood that she held herself away from him because he was unknown to her. But to be so terrified of him? It meant only one thing.

She was human. She had to be.

And this posed a whole new set of problems, ones that he was scarcely willing to fathom until he actually had her in his grasp. He'd cross that bridge when he got to it, so to speak.

"Are you ready, my liege?" Balior's Head Guard and best friend, Maksim Vikenti, implored from the bottom of the staircase. Maksim was nearly as old as Balior and the two had grown up together. While Balior was the son of one of the highest royal houses in the Curia, Maksim was the bastard of a Cloak Demon and a Rania, a type of fire deity. His kind wasn't officially welcome in the Curia, but Maksim's place, high in the eyes of the Sanguines, afforded him much in the way of respect.

His dark blonde hair, which concealed a pair of tawny horns, and storm grey eyes were the talk of nearly every single female in the Curia. He was the forbidden fruit and was happy to be sampled by any female who wanted a taste. In other words --well, in the words of Balior -- he was a slut.

Balior sneered at his friend. Maksim only ever addressed him so formally when he was in the mood to mock. And Balior knew why. His long red cape rustled loudly on the stairs as it dragged behind him and the ruby clasp that held it together over his chest was so massive that one might mistake it for an apple.

Balior liked dressing well, but this ceremonial garb that he was forced to don whenever meeting new subjects was so opulent that it verged on the ridiculous. The heavy silver crown that rested on his head, imbedded with emeralds, rubies, and diamonds, didn't help matters.

Maksim gave a low sweeping bow, his nose nearly touching the floor as Balior set foot on the landing. "Your Highness," Maksim intoned almost with a straight face.

"Go to Hell," Balior snapped.

At this, Maksim burst into a hearty laugh and clapped the prince on the back. "Oh, come now, Balior! Why so solemn? You begin the search for your female this day." He gave the prince another once over and pretended to wipe away a proud tear. "And how magnanimous she'll find you in your princely new clothes!"

"Straight to Hell," Balior grumbled which only brought more deep chuckles from Maksim and a few slow smiles from the rest of his guard.

Maksim went before the prince to push open the heavy doors that lead outside. "I've been there, my liege. In fact, I believe I was born in the fiery bowels of Pandemonium."

Balior cast his friend mischievous sideways glance. "Surely you were born in the bowels of something."

"Words hurt, Balior," Maksim yawned as they climbed into the carriage.

{|*|*|}

The door to the shack burst open and one of the Antonov's guards forced his way into the small space, his massive body nearly filling it.

"Well, well," a shrill voice sounded from behind him. "Decided we'd have ourselves a bit of a lie in, did we?"

Alina just kept an exasperated groan from escaping her lips as Yulia Antonov skirted around the guard. She stared down her nose at her servant and snarled, "Where's the cook? There was naught but last night's bread, a bit of fruit, some eggs prepared by mother's maidservant and a suckling pig for breakfast!"

At the mention of Corina, Alina felt her bottom lip tremble. She was truly alone in the world. The magnitude of this new truth hit her like a ton of bricks. "Gone," she whispered to herself.

"Excuse me?" Yulia huffed, her nostrils flaring angrily. "What do you mean 'GONE'?"

Still delirious from the events of the morning, sleep-deprived, and hungry, Alina snapped back, "Gone! No longer here! Not in this place! What other definition could 'gone' possibly have?"

"Why, you ungrateful little bitch!" Yulia screeched. The guard actually flinched, turning his head so that his ear wasn't slow close to her mouth. "Let me tell you what's about to happen. Since the cook is GONE, you will absorb her duties until she sees fit to return! And, you'll continue your duties to me," she enunciated, "With-out fail-ure! Lunch is to be served in half an hour! Make sure it's ready. Then come to my chambers. I'll need your assistance to get ready for the ball tonight!"

Speaking of the ball seemed to calm Yulia bit. "I must be stunning," she muttered wistfully to herself as she turned to leave. "If the rumors are true...if he will actually be there!"

"A ball?" Alina asked dumbly. She had heard no murmurings around the village of an impending ball, had seen no preparations.

Yulia shot Alina a look of contempt over her shoulder. "Yes, you ignorant twit. A ball. Tonight. Not that it should matter much to you, but it will be held in our great hall." She added with a evil smile, "So, I hope you enjoyed your nap and caught up on your rest. You'll need it!"

With that she swept from the shack, leaving Alina to dress hurriedly as she made her way to the kitchen to begin the day's work.

"Leave her to her Fate," Alina mocked her mother ethereal tone.

Fate, it seemed, was as cruel a mistress as Yulia.



The Sanguine Chronicles Ch. 04



Alina practically stumbled from the main house through the field that led to her shack. Her feet felt as though they might fall right off and she couldn't say she'd be sad to see them go. From the moment she'd arrived at the villa she'd run from one task to the next, carrying load after load of laundry, supervising and cooking meals, cleaning and polishing every bit of wood and silver in the damn place. And that had been just the beginning.

The last hours had been spent with Yulia in her chamber. Alina had bathed, waxed, dried, and buffed her mistress until she was sure that her fingers had been ground to mere stubs. Her shaking hands, cracked and bleeding in places had then been put to the task of styling Yulia's mass of black hair. It was naturally bone straight and the bitch was dead-set on having it curled all over. Alina was sure that this was a decision made purely to torture her. She'd get the last laugh on that one though -- more than a lock or two of Yulia's famous hair had burned off in the process.

Once her hair was done, Yulia had directed Alina to cake layer after layer of make-up onto her face. By the time she was finished, Yulia looked more like a Painted Lady than the daughter of a knight. Yulia was well pleased. Had Alina not been so worn down, she might have laughed.

Now, though, Alina would have to set to the task of making herself presentable enough to serve at the ball. The last thing she wanted was to stand out, and covered in grime she surely would. Glancing at the sinking sun, she surmised that had no more than an hour to bathe and change. Perhaps she'd have just enough time to finally get some food into her belly and rest her tired feet. The thought of a small respite was enough to spur her on a bit faster.

She pushed the door to her shack open and the sight of the empty space brought on the realization that Corina was truly gone. The pain of her loss hit Alina afresh. Her exhausted mind tried to reach for a silver lining in the situation, but she came away only with -- At least I'll have the cot to myself.

Then aloud she sighed, "But I will surely freeze in the night without the extra body heat."

Refusing to allow the ever-encroaching despair to swallow her up, Alina snatched up the simple black dress she'd be wearing for the night as well as some simple toiletries and made her way to the creek at the bottom of the hill behind the shack. She'd bathe and change there, then hurry back home for a quick bite to eat.