Nero Salvic~Memories of the Protector

Chapter 17

I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, not resisting the insane urge I have to cry out.

Pressing my hands over my face, I can feel the disgusting liquid seeping through my fingers, and I hear Jessie gasp as she sees my blood. My blood is coloured an unmistakable, deep black, even in this darkness.

Already, I can feel my eyes turning golden underneath shaking, torn eyelids, trying desperately to heal, and the shredded skin on my face fixing and becoming normal again. Keeping my eyes tight shut, I run a hand around my face, feeling the mottled skin slowly becoming normal again.

I can’t bring myself to open my eyes yet, my whole face burns, like a small fire has been lit on me, and for all I know, it has.

Maybe he’s going to ruin my dream by ending my life, because I don’t know how a few cuts on my face can possibly ruin it.

Nobody says anything, only my stuttered, agonised breathing is audible in the dark silence.

Then there is the faintest sound of shoes clicking against stone flooring.

“My Lord?” A voice calls, “Has someone been here?”

The Lord’s shadowy disguise stutters for a slight second, revealing his true appearance, but only for a slight second; An influential voice, even to The Lord.

Then… Mother. The Lady. Priscilla.

“My Lord?” She calls again.

I can’t resist, I’m in agony and past instincts are pulling at me,

“MOTHER!” I call, loudly.

The footsteps stop, and the smallest of breezes, a whisper, seems to reverberate through the air.

“Nathaniel…” It says quietly, in disbelief.

“MOTHER!” I call again,

Jessie catches on, remembering my noble blood, the story from so few days ago, but it’s seems like such a long time.

“Priscilla!” He calls weakly.

“Be gone!” The Lord hisses angrily, “Be gone from this place!”

I start to call again, but then we’re spinning, somewhere else, not the Lord’s realm, not Nero Salvic, just falling, in a void, and I can’t decide whether I am afraid to see what is around me, or I am afraid of the pain that opening my eyes might cause.

“Nat… Nathaniel…” Jessie yelps frantically, “Nat!”

I don’t respond, my mind is dizzy from the spinning and I’m terribly nauseated, I’d reach to hold on to my head, but my face continues to sting, and I keep my hands pressed upon it as though the darkness underneath my palms might assist to cool it down as it burns, or help my power work. Though neither is true.

And then we stop, crashing knees-first into stony flooring, my hands jolt across my face, rough, and I cry out.

“Nat!” Jessie calls, worried.

“I’m… here.” I say, daring to remove my hands from my face.

I hear Jessie sigh in relief, hear her hands scrabbling across the floor.

“I can’t see a thing.” She says with an irritable breath.

“No.” I confirm, reluctantly opening my eyes, “It’s pitch black.”

We slowly feel about in the darkness, and find a wall to lean up against, and sit, talking about where we think we are, but we don’t really know. We’re not chained to anything, we’re just locked in somewhere.

Just… somewhere.

Priscilla stepped out into the lush grass of her lover’s realm.

“My Lord?” She called, looking around, only a moment ago the sky had been an empty, dark indigo colour, like a starless night, but now it was once again bright, a soothing breeze dancing amongst the emerald grasses.

“I am here, my love.” The Lord’s deep, smooth tone hurried to her ears, a tone that was special, for it was only used to address his love, Priscilla.

Priscilla smiled warmly as she saw The Lord, and walked over to him swiftly.

“Is everything alright, my Lord?” She asked, concern in her voice.

“Yes.” The Lord said, revealing his true appearance, relieved to be free of the shadows for Priscilla, who’s smile only grew as she saw him properly.

Then worry crossed her face.

“My Lord,” She began, “Who else was here, just now?”

The Lord raised a deceptive eyebrow towards Priscilla’s question.

“I heard voices,” She said, with a tut, “Who was it that you had brought here?”

“Why would I have any need but to bring you, my one, my only love, my dear Priscilla?” He cooed lovingly, delicately brushing a small wave of loose hair behind Priscilla’s ear.

Priscilla brushed her fingers lightly against his hand, then sighed.

“My Lord,” She started again, “Please, I know you are true to me, and as your love, and you as mine, we can trust each other, and forgive and forget, and whatever you do, you know I will love you. I understand you, as you understand me. Now, who was it?”

The Lord thought about it.

“Who?” He repeated, “Your… Our… son and his woman, might have… visited this realm, briefly.”

Priscilla froze.

“What?” She asked, tautly. “And why might that be?”

“They cannot forget, my dear,” He said, brushing his lips tenderly against Priscilla’s ear, as he got closer to her.

“Forget?” She asked, frowning, “What, and why, might they need to forget?”

The Lord stepped back at Priscilla’s disappointed tone,

“I have told you,” Priscilla continued, “My dear, My Lord, I love you, I do. But please, I, as much as anyone, know that memories are precious, and to remove them from your own son… How… Why?”

“I did not remove any memories.” The Lord informed her emotionlessly. “They resisted.”

Priscilla gasped.

“Resisted?” She put her fingers to her lips in shock, gently, slowly letting them sink back down to their natural place as she continued, “Please, no, do not tell me that you could do worse… do not tell me that you…”

The Lord looked at the ground, seeming almost guilty.

“You did…” Priscilla said, under her breath.

“What has been done cannot be reversed now.” The Lord protested before Priscilla’s anger even had a chance to rise.

“Albeit it cannot be reversed, whatever you did.” She said, voice softer than if she were talking to any other, but still polluted with anger. “Where have you sent them?”

The Lord, with a frown, gave in to Priscilla, not understanding why she was angry at the punishment, but hating to see his love so disappointed and angry at him.

“I have sent them to Nero Salvic.” The Lord said reluctantly, “In the dungeon of the castle.”

Priscilla looked into the Lord’s eyes, then, with slow realisation, her eyes went wide,

“What if Annetta…”

All she could think of was what state Annetta might find Nathaniel in if she had heard their arrival; The Lord’s torture was a terrible thing.