Codex Mortem

A kiss of mercy

Dawn

"Bring the last prisoner!" The king commanded. Please be the whipping this time, please be the whipping, I prayed, the same prayer I repeated over and over in my mind.
Maybe this last one will be lucky.
The image of the lower resurfaced before me like a chimera, that deep-sunken ashen face, those red, teary eyes... Eyes shut for eternity. Death can be merciful, mother once told me. My hand went at the back of my head almost by instinct, checking. My fingers brushed through the thick strands of my hair, till I felt the small crust. Still there.
A big wooden box on wheels dragged by two roans stopped at the end of the line of warriors. It was just like the one that brought me, except it had no windows. With a better look, I realized it was a cell. A small prison on wheels, made of sturdy blackened wood on a thick metal frame.
How would one feel when being brought to  the Stone? What thoughts fills the mind knowing that, at the end of the journey, it might be the end of life?
I swallowed back the dread, but the feeling kept coming back, like a sharp claw, getting a bone-piercing grip.

Some guards formed a protective circle around the carriage, while Prince Rhys opened its door and dragged out the unfortunate.
I caught a glimpse of a hooded lower being dragged by the arm and tossed brutally to the ground in front of the table. Too small to be a man. A child, perhaps? No, a woman.
My heart bumped faster against my chest. Please be the whipping! Wasn't it enough blood for the stone already? Please be the whipping!
The woman was kneeled by force, and I cringed at the blow she received  behind her knees. She squared her shoulders in defiance and turned at the king without any words. Not even a squeak. No mercy begging, no trade offering for her life, nothing.
I couldn't see her face from where I stood, but I could see His.

Raiden was tense. His jaw was moving back and forth, rummaging empty his teeth, like a rusted sword being sand-scratched clean. The penetrating sound made the hair on my arm go up. I embraced myself, wishing it to stop.
The prince paced in front of the woman.
"This is the last prisoner for the second harvest!" Rhys announced. His eyes roamed over the crowd; he turned and looked at each one of the warriors and, finally, at me, taking his time to study us. Searching.
His eyes lingered for too long. I shifted my weight from a foot to another and lowered my head. From the corner of my eye I could see Raiden's same intense look.
A chill stabbed my gut like the sharpest blade, a blade deep embedded and twisting inside me. Something was wrong.
"You are here today-" Rhys turned his attention to the woman, "to pay for the crime of being a Dawner. May the Sun and the Moon guide your hand!"
Pitiful stares gleamed of the people's faces. Not only pity, no, there was something else in those looks. Sympathy.
The metallic noise of the coin landing flat on the wooden table diverted my attention to the prince once again.
"Now draw!" he shout at her.
I felt the already familiar nudge. It was time to go and hold up the small yet powerful thing for all to see. The punishment.
Raiden kept my gaze. The lines of his scowl deepened, like he was waiting for something. I dared not to look somewhere else, not till the tip of my boot slightly bumped into the knee-heightened table.
My eyes flicked to the last captive.

My body froze. My mind froze.
Terror surged up my throat. It was hard to move. Hard to breathe. Hard to think.
Stiff and numb, I stared at her. All my hopes choked. Stupid, feeble hopes.
Then she moved. Her eyes bore into mine as she struggled to rise. She caught my cold hand and placed something in, while her tongue spelled one word. Mercy.

An evil chuckle turned into a laugh. The cell's guard voice hit like a hammer. "You dawner whore! You think you deserve mercy?"

At that moment, I understood. Hope was only an illusion. The Sun and the Moon abandoned us a long time ago, but we refused to see. There was only one merciful thing in this world. One blessing.
My palm throbbed in pain, but I didn't care. Nothing mattered any more. My hand went to the back of my head, plucking the only thing that will deliver her last wish.

She will not leave me like this. No, she needs to know how much she means to me...
I placed the waxed tiny thing on my lips. One kiss. I love you MOTHER, my eyes spoke loud when my mouth remained silent.
Her arms came around my shoulders, squeezing gently as to let me know she understood. I love you too, her eyes said. I wanted to cry, I wanted to shout, but my tears were dry, my throat numb. Her gaze changed, like the sky before a storm. Ready she was. But I was not.
Her lips came crushing over mine, sucking. With the berry gone, I heard a low crack. The wax was broken.
Her bruised lips touched one more time my forehead as the air brushed away the warmth of her arms and she collapsed at my feet into the dirt.
Someone shout. Someone run.
The world seemed to spin around me, little more than a blur. My soul shattered with pain, real and heavy as the cursed stone.
Before my eyes flashed a distant memory, a hot brew and a genuine smile. She was home.But now, there she was, laying at my feet, stiff and cold. I no longer had a home. I was alone in the storm.

I turned to Alar, the filthy blackguard, and, with my last drop of will, I shouted:

"She begged nothing of you!"

"Dawner!" he hissed. "Dawner!" they hissed.

My knees felt like melting candles, and I slowly collapsed near her body. I saw the king, Raiden, dashing towards me, canines bared. Squeezing my beloved mother's hand, I closed my eyes. 'I will see you soon, Mother, and we will cross a river of fire together.'

Death for life, the price has been paid!

.....

Raiden

"Bring the last prisoner!" I commanded. Aga Liam whistled, and the carriage was surrounded by some of our warriors. Whoever helped her escape will be here today, I was sure of that. And today, that traitor will be exposed.
The scowl on my face deepened, a reflection of my thoughts. He will be shown no mercy.
But for this prisoner... for once in my life I wished she draws the whipping, in which case I'll let her live. I decided this some time ago, and now, with the show of power for the alphas, no one will dare to challenge my decision again.
'May the Sun and the Moon guide your hand!' I silently repeated after Rhys.
The possibilities rolled up in my head. The only other way to let her live was if, drawing the hunt, I personally give chase and allow her to reach the river. A thing that would rise many questions, a thing that it hasn't been done before. Would I do that for a dawner? Not a dawner anymore, as she confessed when Rhys conducted the interrogation. And he always gets the true, one way or the other.
She closed her eyes and dipped her hand into the pouch, fishing for a pebble. Withdrawing it, she held the punishment squeezed hard in her palm.

Dawn walked towards the low table, where the shiny metal of the coin glistered against the blackened wood. My sweet Dawn... her eyes kept my gaze, just like I told her, and she was shivering.
I wished to whisk her away, away from all these things, but the crown on my head was heavy, its burden pressing more and more with each breath.
With my senses on alert, I grew impatient. Now it was not the time to think about her innocent smile, nor of her sweet muffled moans whispered in my ear when my body covered hers. It was time for traitors and punishments.
My eyes left her, scanning the surroundings. Looking up and down at every face, every grimace, every gesture. Rhys followed my scrutiny, his face mirroring the same concern and impatience.
Someone shouted. I turned my attention to the prisoner, just to see how her lips came fast on my angel's lips. Then I heard a crack.
Before I realized what was happening, the lower dropped dead to the ground.
My blood boiled, rushing up to my head. My vision darkened.
"Dawner!" my wolves hissed through clenched teeth.
This was not possible! How could I be so stupid, so blind? Anger steamed into my soul, raw and painful. She played me. And I, like a foul, I believed her. Her purity, her innocence, all a lie.
Something broke inside me, and, moment after moment, I felt more hollow. Like a sea cave at low tides, all the love I held for her was washed away. My soul bled. And with the first drop of blood, the seed of hatred sprouted.
For the sake of what was gone, for the memory of what was never meant to be, of the love I held for her, all I could give her was a quick death.
I urged my beast venom at the points of my canines and I dashed.

.....