Merlot's Eyes

Chapter Twelve

The man stared at me with hollow eyes, walking fully out of the fireplace with not a burn or singe on him. His skin was milky white, eyes as black as a bottomless pit. Charcoal was smeared on his face and neck to mimic a skeleton which added to the hollowness of his glare. Dren could see him... which meant he wasn't a hallucination. Was he never one? Had he been real this entire time? I began to panic.
     "Calm, Merlot," Raziel said softly, holding out a clawed hand. Wings of night flapped behind him, putting out the fire and folding neatly behind him. He was just as I'd seen him in my dream—instead he was standing in the middle of a battlefield. Had that been a vision of the future?
     "Who is this," Dren asked, a knife in his hand. Where he'd gotten it was beyond me. Speechless, I let the king push me behind him. "Who are you," he repeated to the skeletal demon.
     "My name is Raziel Hellebore." The creature pointed to me. "Her. She needs to come with me."
     "Why."
     "My master is in need of her." Raziel twitched, his neck snapping to the side. "H-he needs her," he stuttered, some of his bones randomly twitching and popping in and out of place in an uncomfortable manner. "I have been watching Merlot Elfhallow for some time... We have had many a conversation together. Have we not, Merlot? Do you not remember me?"
     "I thought he was a hallucination," I breathed, feeling ashamed as I realized my clothes were near the demon.
     "You suffer from hallucinations?" Dren asked, his brow furrowed.
     Full of shame, I tilted my head downward and stared at my feet. His glare was a blazing ray into my face. Whatever was happening before Raziel came in... whatever feelings were bubbling up, were long gone.
     "Now has seemed like the perfect time to make myself known," the demon continued, walking closer and picking up my clothes. He threw them towards me, making me flinch against Dren's bare back. "Come. Your presence is also requested in the Pale King's palace, King Dren Heartland." Raziel cocked his head, skimpy braids of black hair sliding greasily across his forehead. "Do not make me force you."
     "How do I know we'll come out alive," Dren questioned.
     "That"—Raziel chuckled—"is all up to Merlot."
     "Wait," I breathed. I'm in shock. "Wait." I held my hand to Raziel. "What is this war about."
     "What does that have to do with—"
     "Just tell me, what this war is about."
     The demonic figure walked about the room carefully, reviewing his steps before he took them. "Fools in Calanthe trespassed on my master's lands. They proceeded to mock and pester him when he questioned their stance in this world. Alas, that child fool pressed my master hard and the option of war came about in a spew of anger. Conleth declared war on the Pale King and my master accepted, knowing he would win, of course."
     "So Conleth did start it," I told Dren. "This war has nothing to do with us," I said to Raziel. "It's between Calanthe and the shadowland. Maybe I can discuss it with your master and make him see—"
     "He cannot see," Raziel interrupted. "This war is on the bout of another little... skirmish from many long years ago. My master fell in love with a goddess. Before your little kingdoms came about... when the shadowland was far more than it is today. She plucked out his eyes and tore out his heart, casting him down with the numas of the otherworld; to rot and be devoured by serpents and worms. Yet, the Pale One returned, leading that army of serpents and worms. He struck the goddess from the sky yet could never return to his higher standing. He has then remained in Köd Kunta ever since."
     "It's not our fault," I said stiffly. "Any discourse between gods and goddesses are solely up to them... not mortals."
     "One would think, yes?" Raziel laughed. "I have been watching you for some time, Merlot. As I have told you before: I am a wraith. A bringer of death... a life-stealer." He walked over to me and my body trembled, clutching the towel to myself. "You sang my song across your wrists..." A long claw scraped against the scar on my wrist, adding to the chills. "...I was so prepared to take you home to the shadowland... yet you survived. You vanquished your traumas and fears and made a name for yourself. Not many of my songlings do that."
     "You're a tuulmahl," cursed Dren. "A bloodsinger."
     "One whom gains new followers and worshippers for his master by seeking out those tired of life..." sighed Raziel, nearly floating as he walked. "I was prepared to take Merlot in her time of ecstasy from her daily life... yet she shut me out." The wraith glared down at me. "No one has ever been able to do such a thing."
     "So you followed her," guessed the king, walking up beside me. "You preyed on her, waiting for her to do it again? How sick."
     "It is what I live for." The wraith stood a whole head taller than the king, dwarfing him as he stood before him. "If you had to feed on the heart's of innocents to stay alive, how would you feel if everyone saw you as a monster." Turning to me, he scraped beneath my chin with a talon. "In the shadowland, no one is a monster. What you are is simply what you are. No one hashes on you for being different."
     "What the utopia you make it out to be," mulled Dren. "She's not going anywhere with you. I demand you to leave this instant."
     "Do you want to stop that war or not," hissed Raziel. "Do you want to save your people like the good king you are?"
     "What does the Pale King want with us," I dared ask.
     "He wants only you, dearest songling... my little blood bird..." A heinous and cruel laugh gurgled out from Raziel's throat. "Give him what he wants and he will take his war to the sky."
     "What does he want?" I asked sternly.
     "Your eyes, precious songling," Raziel whispered. "Those treasured cuts of jade... He only wants to see again so he can find his one love again and rip out her heart to replace his own. Everything will be peaceful if you lend him your peepers for his quest..." Another laugh was made before Raziel crept closer and closer to the fireplace, where the flames burst alive again. "You have until dawn. Make your choice or I will drag you to the Pale One." With that, the wraith disappeared with another laugh and a puff of black mist.
     "Merlot."
     I grabbed my clothes hastily from off the ground. "What." What do you possibly have to say to me right now, Dren Heartland.
"We need to go. Now."
     "I told you before: I'm not leaving." Putting on my clothes, I looked at my shaking hands. "Whatever they want from me, they can have."
     "Even your fucking eyes?"
     I looked at the staggered king. "If that's what it takes to stop this war, then yes."
     "Well, then," Dren said, clapping his hands slowly. "All hail Merlot Elfhallow! Savior of the Three Kingdoms. May the Threefold daemons bless her eternally. Praise be, praise be!" He glared harshly. "Is that what you aim to hear? This is no time to play hero, Merlot."
     "Do you think I want fucking fame and glory?" I scoffed. "Now who's the sick one, eh? Not all of us want to be the hero. Maybe stopping a massacre itself is fucking satisfying!" Throwing my hands in the air, I stomped out of the room, smacking right into Samsara. She looked down upon me with hooded eyes. "You've brought dark magic to this castle, girl," she whispered.
     "Oh, fuck off." I shoved her out of the way and made my way back out into the gardens.
     Coldness bit my face. It had grown much more cold, but maybe that was because of the hot bath. Maybe it was the chills that were bubbling under my skin. I rubbed beneath my chin from where the demon-wraith had scratched me.
     Something was wrong with the air. Perhaps Samsara was right. The wraith's presence may have tainted the purity of the castle walls. But the air... the air was thin. Like sheets of glass in my throat. I gasped, grabbing at my neck. No, something was wrong with me. Black pooled in my peripherals as I fell to my knees, my legs giving out, my nails tearing at my skin. Something was crawling in my neck... Something was scattering around beneath my dermis. Something was—
     That pooling darkness quickly claimed me.