Blood and Iron

Chapter 1

                                                      { The Cherub's Daughter }

The pin of the cherub gives off a light of it's own, but once it's picked up it is no longer an item of self worth. Years before, any man or woman who wore such an accessory were known to have a soul of purity, the most innocent of lives that even the Mother above would have defined as sacred. Yet when days past-- soon days converting into months, then months converting into years-- the symbol of the cherub had been the exact oposite of what others would once have thought. It was a symbol of impurity, hostile environments and violence. The family that kept to the sigil were constantly attempting to fix what they once had, keep to their word of being one of those most loyal of families. The king would agree, having the gigantic heart that he did, and give the family of Sonitori another chance. But that would be the last time, for when you test a king's patience you might as well be testing a volcano that will one day mysteriously erupt. 

So the family sold their souls to practicing the good samaritan law, never studying witchcraft and slipping into another faith under the eyes of the All-Seeing-King Sokra, which were one of the kings that had eyes almost everywhere, preparing to strike wherever he could, no matter the time nor place. But then the Sonitori family grew. Their children had children, but the offspring had different views on life, which did not go along with the family's. Today, they do not follow the rules that they once did, and their offspring's offspring had offspring that came into rule by the King Sokra II. By then, the king's son had a good eye on his father and learned how to rule a kingdom by the judgement of his inspiration which was, of course, the man who helped bring him into this world.

Thanks to the King Sokra II, some would say, the nation welcomed non-violent days and peaceful nights with nothing but the sound of the wind whispering in one's ear. Yet unlike his father, the king didn't have an all seeing eye, nor did he have the courage to exile the criminals himself. The man always hid behind an executioner, never looked upon the man's head after it was seperated from it's body. Some people would say he was as cowardly as a squirrel that scurries at the sound of footsteps, or at the sound of a bang. There was no respect given to him by the Sonitori family, only the feigned dedication they had for him.

Behind the king's back, they meddled with faes, courted dwarves and spent their money on hot spiced wine with cinnamon. It wasn't something out of ordinary before the Sokras ruled the kingdom. Why couldn't they do it again? The sole reason why citizens were like this was because of the neverending rules. Musings were disrupted at the knock of a wooden door. 

Lina's head turned swiftly, her dagger hidden inside of her breasts, the dark red bodice that clung to her body a benefit for the weapon that she so desperately needed. Quickly, she grabbed the cloak that was sitting on her bed and wrapped it around her shoulders, light blue eyes scanning her mother's face, the expression she carried when she opened the door and closed it behind her.  Lina gave an innocent look, one that told her sweet mother that she was doing nothing mischevious. It was a lie, of course, but Monyka was gullible and believed anything her darling daughter would tell her. 

She wasn't of the Sonitori family. Monyka was the one who had married one and was converted to the family at the age of sixteen, or at least that was what she had told Lina when she had come of age. It was custom to tell your children of the way the wife had come into the family. Unlike her mother, Lina didn't trust so easily. She had learned the ways of manipulation by her father, and without them she didn't know where she would have been at this very moment. Perhaps in the sea, being the dinner of a sea of fish. For her father she was thankful, and she was like to slit her throat if she were to be left with her mother for the rest of her existence. That was just a nightmare, so to speak.

"What is it, mother?" whispered Lina, standing up in greeting. 

"Did you forget what today was? Or am I forced to remind you yet again?" Her voice was stern, but somewhere in the depths of her voice there was sadness. 

Suddenly, Lina felt embarrassed. How could she have forgotten the single most important thing to her mother? The one day that meant their family was saved from the purge that was occurring as they spoke. "Forgive me, mother, you've not told me. I-I forgot... I-I promise it won't happen again." She wondered what had been going on in her mind. What with the purge being on everyone's lips, she didn't understand how she could have forgotten something so popular.

Her mother looked as if she was about to be on the verge of tears. It was enough to make Lina feel guilty. The girl walked towards her, a look of genuine sympathy plastered onto her face. "We'll help the cooks prepare dinner.  What say you?" With that, there was a bright smile that followed along. Lina laughed, and not long after so did her mother.

They were saved yet again. Despite their acts of cruelty and sinister doings they still managed to manipulate the king into thinking that they were as innocent as everyone else pretended to be. King Sokra must have been an absolute fool to believe such things. Suddenly she remembered the names her father's friends would call him at table. The Fool King, or sometimes the Royal Jester. No doubt the names were being repeated everywhere, but that didn't mean that her father's followers were to be forgiven that easily. Instead, their heads had been hacked off, placed in boxes and sent to their families with a royal note that always said: "Revenge is an act of passion."

Lina slipped her emerald pointed toed shoes and skipped off to the kitchens, her mother following behind. She turned back, her smile widening. "Mother, can I bake the bread?" They had gotten away with it for another ten years. It was real, it was no dream.

Monyka managed a nod. "I've a proposition for you, my sweet. You bake the bread and I spice the wine, eh?"