Bloodlines

Chapter 3

As a child, Layla Desdemona Hart had learnt a lot about the world she lived in. One, everyone had a place in the world. A human could never be a mage, and a changeling will never crave blood. Two, other races do not bother with humans, besides in battle. There were borders for a reason. And finally, there was nothing beyond the shore of the great ocean, except the Isle of Blood, where the vamps were exiled to.

The mages didn't seem to know rule number 2. Must be an educational error.

"This must all be some sorry mistake. I have no business with the Mage Lord." Layla broke the uncomfortable silence in the small bakery. The lieutenant and Ghost Girl had oh so graciously escorted Layla into the shop, as well as two other knights. The rest were currently obstructing the suddenly un-nonexistent flow of traffic on Main Street. The gossips would have a field day this decade.

"The Mage Lord makes no mistakes." The flinty voice of the first knight, a tall woman with jet black hair and red eyes, broke into her thoughts. Her eyes were a crimson red, morbidly pretty. The mage and their insane looks.

"He certainly made a mistake with this one. Layla can't even cast a spark. Whatever could he want with her?"

"Thank you, Mother. I needed the boost of confidence."

Ma snorted.

"Have you seen her wash? Disgraceful. Utterly disgraceful."

Madam Hart was not pleased with her guests. After lying to her that her daughter was sought after by the Mage Lord for marriage and scaring away all her customers, Elga Hart's heart (ha ha) was certainly not soft towards the lieutenant and her gang.

"The Mage Lord makes no mistakes." The male knight echoed. His voice was... appealing, Layla realized. The knight was appealing, with his dark hair and blue-gray eyes. He didn't sound as cold as the woman.

Tearing her eyes off him, she turned to face Mae Sterling, who was rising. Sterling was a great Mage lineage, mighty and noble, while Stirling was just the bastard human offshoot (sorry Liam).

"This is not a negotiation, Miss Hart. Neither do we question the Mage Lord, Mrs Hart. This conversation is over. We shall set off at dawn. Good evening."

She stepped out of the bakery into the early night, the two out of the three knights (they certainly didn't look like mere footsoldiers, but they answered to a Lieutenant, so they had to be knights) following her out. The contingent of soldiers marched off, probably towards Howard's Inn. That was the only place they would find lodgings, anyway.

The handsome knight remained.

"Well?" Mrs Hart glared at the remaining knight.

"Lieutenant Sterling commanded me to watch over Layla and the bakery this night."

"I'd like to speak with my daughter alone then, if you please." Her voice brooked no argument. He soldier nodded once then stepped outside and shut the door behind him. The doorbell jingled into the silence.

Elga pounced immediately and pinched Layla's ear.

"What did you do now, Layla?"

"Ma! What could I do that'll interest the Mage Lord? Ow!"

"True. Come here."

Layla got up from her perch on her stool and embraced her mother. Her familiar scent of roses and oranges was calming. The slight tremors that rocked her mother's body was not.

"I'll be fine, mother. Maybe he wants to marry me or something. Once he tastes my foul cooking, he'll send me back, you'll see."

They both laughed hollowly.

*******

Layla couldn't sleep.

After escorting her mother to bed and closing up shop, she went straight to bed. Tossing and turning for an hour made her realise that sleeping was not going to  happen anytime soon,  so she got up, dressed and slipped on her boots. In Liam's old trousers and his adolescent shirt, she could pass for a young boy of sixteen. If you ignored the long hair and the feminine features.

Since this was her last night in the village of Mocking, she might as well go with a bang. She was going drinking with Liam.

First problem. Getting past the mother.

She tiptoed past her mother's room. Her mothers ears were sharp, so sharp, Layla always wondered if she was a wolf changeling in disguise.

At last, the stairs. Careful not to step on the ninth step-- it creaked --she finally got to the landing and into the store. With a silent victory punch in the air, she made her way into the bakery to the back door, carefully opening it, stepping out and shutting it with a quiet snick.

Mission accomplished.

With her hands in her pockets, she made her way to the storefront, idly wondering what Liam and the others would do this night. Shooting bottles? Drinking games? Or Layla's favourite, poker! She hoped--

"Good evening, Miss Hart. Going somewhere?"

Layla jumped, an embarrassing squeak escaping her mouth. Really, Layla, she told herself. You're jumped at night, and your first line of defence is a squeak. How your enemies tremble.

Disgusted with herself, she focused on her new companion.

The handsome knight. He stood right in front of her, his hands on his hips. The lake moonlight glinted on his hair. He looked amused.

"None of your business, mage." She shot back, angry at him, but angrier at herself.

"It is my business, Miss Hart. I've been tasked to protect you. I take my tasks very seriously."

"Its Layla. And I don't need protecting. I'm an independent woman, Sir..."

"Dwayne. Xander Dwayne. I'm afraid I can't let you gallivant at such a late hour of the night. I have orders, Layla."

"Mr Dwayne, look around you. You're in Mocking Village. The worst thing that could happen is losing your shoelaces. And"--she said, pointing to her boots "my shoelaces are intact, thank you very much. Whatever your Mage Lord needs me for, I'm sure my going on a walk won't affect it."

"A walk?" He raised an dark eyebrow at her apparel. "In that ridiculous get up?"

Extremely infuriated by his statement and the derogatory look in his eyes, Layla stalked off towards the tavern. The knight silently followed.

Layla was too angry to get rid of him.

Halfway towards the inn, as they walked past the sleeping hulks of the village buildings, Layla let the calm night slip into her bones. She shut her eyes -- she knew the way well enough -- and just breathed. She could feel all the panic, fear, sadness leaching out of her body into the night. Her tense muscles relaxed, and she inhaled, breathing in the night flowers that perfumed the air.

"I ...apologise"

Her eyes flew open and she stumbled.

*****

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Love, Iteoluwakiishi (popularly known as Empress of the Universe and Ruler of all Nations, or simply Kiishi)