Dance of the Damned

Twenty-Two

We materialized directly into the dining room of Ardor Castle. Bastien, Nadeen, and two unfamiliar women were seated around the long burgundy table, their expressions solemn. They barely acknowledged our arrival as we appeared out of thin air. Izora remained peacefully asleep in my arms. One of the women, distinguished by her long, black, wavy hair and matching dark complexion like Zeddicus, approached me. She was the only one in the room wearing a dress, a stunning long scarlet ballgown with a crystalline corset that accentuated her shapely figure.

"Who is this?" She asked softly, delicately brushing a lock of greasy black hair away from the girl's pale sleeping face.

"Izora. She is the only survivor," I informed her in a hushed tone, my voice dry and raspy. The woman nodded, her sorrowful dark eyes filled with understanding, as she reached out to take the child from me. I clung tightly to Izora, not quite ready to let go and entrust her to another stranger after everything she had been through.

"It's alright. She is my sister, Verlee. She will ensure the girl receives proper care," Zeddicus reassured me, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. After a moment of hesitation, I reluctantly allowed Verlee to cradle Izora gently in her arms and watched as they left the room.

Zeddicus took his place at the head of the table, and I settled into the vacant seat next to Bastien. He tenderly grasped my hand beneath the table, intertwining our fingers. "Are you alright?" He whispered.

I shook my head. I still couldn't find the words to express the horror I had witnessed today. I struggled to comprehend how even someone as wicked as Kalyani could commit such atrocities.

"Zed, this is an act of war," the other dark-skinned woman with short, curly black hair spoke up from her position on Zeddicus's right side, dressed in a sleek black and maroon jumpsuit with a scale-like texture. Scales that are just like Grim Wings. I suddenly realized that I had seen her before, moments before Nailah unbound my powers.

"Dammnit Blinne, I am well aware of that! However, we are lacking both the necessary figures and resources. Kalyani is well aware of this," he growled, his frustration evident. I couldn't blame him.

Blinne glanced in my direction and gave me a disdainful once-over. "Should we really be discussing any of this in her presence?"

"She won't say anything. Kalyani held her captive for months," he replied, glaring at her.

"Isn't she also a prisoner here?" Blinne questioned, and a long silence followed.

"It's... more complicated than that," he finally responded.

Clearing my throat, I spoke up. "I witnessed what Kalyani did in Ashenwood. I saw all the children who were crushed, burned, and torn apart. I can assure you, I would never stand in your way of stopping her."

Blinne didn't appear convinced, but she let it go. "We need to take action. We cannot allow her to get away with something like this without retaliating."

"Like Zed said, we don't have the numbers. We would never emerge victorious," Bastien said, giving my hand a slight squeeze under the table. "I don't know what else we can do."

"Over a hundred children are fucking dead, Bastien!" Zeddicus snapped, his fist crashing onto the table, leaving a noticeable dent. "We cannot simply stand idly by!"

Over a hundred children... I hadn't realized the extent of the tragedy. My heart filled with sorrow and grief, but also with anger towards the Queen of Shadows for committing such a heinous act.

"We could seek assistance from the Light Kingdoms," Bastien suggested. "But I know you won't."

"No. I won't. Because we both know they wouldn't help. And it's not worth risking Ardor," Zeddicus said, running his trembling fingers through his long black hair. "We will discuss this further tomorrow." Without another word, he vanished from the room, leaving behind lingering shadows, with Blinne following suit.

"Well, at least you've met both of my sisters," Nadeen said, changing the subject, though her expression remained filled with sadness and stress.

"Blinne is your sister too?" I asked softly. "I don't think she likes me very much."

"She doesn't like anyone. Don't take it personally. And thank you for being there for my brother today," she offered a faint smile before also disappearing from the room, leaving me alone with Bastien.

"You look like you could use a bath," he remarked, standing up while still holding my hand.

I stared at my ash-covered clothes, realizing how dirty and disheveled I must look. Without saying a word, I allowed him to embrace me and transport us into a spacious bathroom. Inside, a luxurious square-shaped bathtub made of dark gravel and gemstones awaited me, with jets and bubbles creating a heavenly atmosphere. He whispered for me to take my time and assured me he would be just outside the door. As he exited, a black silk robe and towel appeared on the edge of the bath.

I quickly discarded my soiled garments, watching them vanish as soon as they hit the floor, and eased myself into the hot water, initially flinching at its temperature. Gradually, my body adapted, and the warmth began to soothe my tired muscles. After hours of sifting through rubble and transforming into a Grim, I was thoroughly sore and exhausted. Was it really just this morning we had been training with Finn? It felt like a lifetime ago. I allowed myself to soak for what felt like an eternity, the water never losing its comforting heat. Eventually, I emerged from the bath and wrapped myself in the provided robe.

On the other side of the door, Bastien awaited me in a spacious bedroom. Unlike the rest of the castle, this room was embellished with dark emerald green walls, white floors, and subtle touches of black decor. The giant bed was garnished with bedding and pillows in the same color scheme, and Bastien sat patiently, two plates of hot food beside him. The sound of my rumbling stomach reminded me of my hunger.

I expressed my gratitude, saying, "Thank you. I am appreciative," as I settled onto the bed beside him and savored a bite of the meal, resisting the urge to audibly express my pleasure at its delectable taste. We dined in silence, occasionally exchanging glances and sharing smiles. When we finished, he handed me a bottle of spirits.

Curiously, I inquired, "What is this?" I gave it a sniff and made a disapproving face. Apart from the occasional glass of wine, I was not much of a drinker.

"You're not supposed to smell it, it tastes just as awful as it smells," he admitted. "It's called whiskey. It's a highly sought-after beverage."

I took a sip and struggled to keep from spitting it out onto his bed, but managed to swallow it down. The burning sensation in my throat and stomach was undeniable, and I handed the bottle back to him. "That is revolting!"

"I know," he winked, taking a long swig for himself without even flinching at the repugnant taste and sensation. "But it will help you feel better after today."

I nodded and accepted the bottle as he handed it back to me, taking a few more sips. Together, we consumed nearly half of the bottle, stumbling around his room and dancing to the melodies emitted by the glowing orbs. Bastien twirled me around so many times that I thought I might become nauseous, but fortunately, that did not occur. For a fleeting moment, I forgot about all the terrible events of the day and surrendered myself to his embrace as we swayed from side to side. I even found myself laughing. It had been years since I last experienced genuine laughter.

Bastien's smile illuminated his face as he gazed down at me. The music gradually faded away, prompting him to draw me nearer and lean in, his lips gently meeting mine. I reciprocated the kiss, enveloping him in my embrace and allowing his tongue to explore the depths of my mouth. His hands caressed my body, their path leading to my breasts, but I interrupted the moment by breaking the kiss and pushing him away. "It has been an incredibly long day and—"

"Of course," he replied, his smile unwavering as he nodded in understanding. Extending his arm, he offered, "Allow me to escort you back to your room?"

"I would be delighted," I responded, accepting his arm and following his lead. We traversed through numerous corridors and descended several flights of stairs, a realization dawning upon me that my room in the servant's quarters was considerably distant from Bastien's abode. As we drew closer to my destination, passing the grand entrance doors of the castle, an unexpected occurrence unfolded before our eyes. The doors swung open forcefully, revealing a figure shrouded in darkness, accompanied by sprawling wings. It was none other than Zeddicus. His clothes were tattered, clinging to his body, and he breathed heavily, his muscles and physique covered with fresh blood...