Discordia - Short Stories from The Golden Apple of Discord Page 3

human form was much like Taralie’s: to feel and understand the powers others possess. Taralie had an advantage; she could channel what I could only see. Normally a mimic’s power is like Taralie’s, but I was still useful. In Milunfran life, when a child was born, I told the Samanos of their power.

  I was fifteen when my world crumbled.

  When it came time to wed, a prescient in my mother’s coven had a vision that my children would not have blood powers. There could be only one reason for that, and because she had no choice, Mother revealed my true parentage and Father’s secret.

  She was not a full Milunfran, but a halfling, and was not always faithful to her husband, the man I thought was my father. I only possessed a quarter of Milunfran heritage in my veins.

  Her shame was great, but I bore the punishment.

  I was a burden, incapable of bearing Milunfran children. Outcast and alone, I traveled south, finding work in Thuringia, Germany, as a factory worker in porcelain manufacturing. Every day I cried for my lost way of life until I had no more tears left. For ten years I slaved away, the wages barely keeping me alive.

  One winter evening, I walked toward the room I rented above a brothel. It was bitterly cold and I couldn’t afford coal for the tiny oven I had salvaged from an estate fire the previous winter. The frozen mud in the streets was a comfort, because come spring, my only pair of boots would be worn through, and replacing them took a month’s wages.

  This was going to be my life. I was going to die in that factory, hungry and with holes in my shoes.

  The strangely clear night reminded me of the lessons that guided me through childhood. So many planets aligned would be a time for rituals and celebrations. Festivities I would never be a part of. A single tear rolled down my cheek, in memory of what I could have become.

  I barely heard the man calling my name over the sound of wagons and horses moving down the street. I pretended I did not hear them and increased my speed.

  When two well-dressed men approach a woman like me, it does not typically end well for the woman.

  He called out again and asked if I was Lunet of the Milunfran Saxony coven. I turned to face them. I had not used my power for years; it took me a moment longer to realize they had powerful abilities.

  One had the power to physically transport himself in an instantaneous way. The Milunfran stekie could transport a consciousness, but to do so physically? It was unheard of! The other well-dressed man could bend your will to his by the sound of his voice.

  Saying nothing, I clutched my shawl around me. The taller of the two men took a step back. He said that he did not mean to frighten me but he had been seeking me for some time. He said I was wanted, but not by my coven. He promised me warmth and food and that I would not be violated.

  From his clothes alone I knew he had the means to offer what he said. As I looked up at the planets once again, my only thought was that I did not want to die in that factory. If I died around a warm fire with a full belly, it was better than eternally slaving away for what I could never have… the chance to be a part of a people again.

  I was changed into a vampire that very night.

  The agony of dying was not at all what I expected, but at the end I was reborn. When I drank my first human, I was alive and empowered. For years I had shuffled through an inhumane existence, and now I would never want again. My connection to Earth vanished, but she, and my coven, abandoned me long ago. The increase of my blood power’s range more than made up for anything I lost; kilometers of awareness were mine to watch.

  Even though I wanted to, Draco forbid me from waging war on my former coven. Instead he turned my attention to education. I was taught to read, write, hunt, and was given the privilege of changing three humans into vampires. One of those became my Socious, Haruni.

  As the years passed, Draco’s training turned to expectation, then disappointment. I did not know what he expected me to deliver, and he refused to give me any further information, saying that if I did not know, he could not teach me. Haruni was my safe harbor, loving and kind as my Milunfran coven used to be.

  One evening in the late 1970s, piles of star charts were laid out on a table in the castle library. The handwritten notations were in Draco’s hand, indicating an upcoming planetary alignment. Looking further, I saw it was the same alignment that peaked the night I was changed in 1802.

  The Dacian kings’ finding me on that cold winter night was no accident. When I asked Draco about it, he told me I had failed and was being replaced. He spoke of a greater power, one that could overthrow the Noricum and reclaim our rightful place in the world. This time, Draco failed me.

  -X-

  Draco comes and goes. Nearly a week passes with no word of Taralie. I failed to bring Draco his new golden apple, instead bringing news of Cothelas’s death. Taralie must pay for killing my love, but a small part of me does not hate her.

  That part of me remembers being a witch, like her. Under other circumstances we may have become friends, but my loyalty is to Draco, who saved me from the factories. I will not hesitate to kill her if ordered.

  Suddenly, Draco appears in my chambers. I rise and bow. “Yes, sire?”

  “Many years ago, you asked me to wage war on the Milunfra. I am now giving you that opportunity. You will take Julian and three others of your choosing without powers Taralie can use. Under no circumstances will you allow Coralia to live. Even as a human witch she is powerful enough to cause us concern. You will hold Augusta and Arianna hostage until Taralie joins us. Lady Taralie has started feeding in Toronto and it is only a matter of time before the Noricum become involved. If Verus reads her… They will know of Cothelas’s death and nothing will stop them from marching down on us. Can you handle this?”

  His order brings a smile to my face. I may not be able to kill the new golden apple, but I can make her suffer.

  “Yes, sire. I will want Daichi. He can tell if Taralie will lie to appease me when I have her sister’s throat in my hands.”

  He stares at me, stroking his fingers behind his ear. “The Milunfra were foolish to discard you. I have every confidence you will do well.”

  And with that, he vanishes.

  Yes, the Milunfra were foolish to discard me. Now their sins will be brought to bear on their Toronto coven.

  One by one, Draco transports Julian, Begonia, Jola, Daichi, and me to Toronto. If she is feeding here, I suspect she returned home to her sisters after fleeing the barge. Draco jumps away, making sure his power is not within Taralie's range and thus, does not have the means to escape. Running at full speed in the early morning hours, we descend on the Severin home.

  Something is wrong.

  I cannot feel any of their powers, the house is dark, the windows are blown out, and glass is scattered through the snow.

  Julian also sees this and motions for us to remain silent.

  The scene inside the house is even more savage.

  Furniture is overturned, while picture frames are embedded in walls. A terrible battle happened here, but what concerns me is a resonance of energy. The walls drip with Milunfran power.

  Julian whispers, “Lunet, what caused this?”

  “Nothing good.”

  “Do you not feel their powers?”

  “They are not within eight kilometers of this place.”

  Julian says to Jola, “Check their sleeping chambers for personal items, please.”

  Jola does so quickly. She is out for blood; her…our rage will serve us well.

  Daichi checks the driveway. “Their larger vehicle is gone. The other two are still here.”

  Begonia asks, “Where would they go? Are they even alive?”

  I think back to when I was rejected by my coven. There was one place I wanted to be.

  “If they are still alive, they will go to their human father on Prince Edward Island.”

  Daichi asks, “How do you know that?”

  “Once an earth witch, always an earth witch, and we always think of our ro
ots.”

  Begonia touches the wall and jumps a bit when she does. “What if they are not alive?”

  “Then they are dead, but I can promise you, whatever battle caused this tomb, we want no part of. It is beyond my knowledge.”

  Jola comes down the stairs. “Their personal effects are untouched. If they left here, they did so in haste.”

  I look at the destruction. “Yes, they did.”

  We quickly depart toward their childhood home. The human father will be most convenient. He is defenseless against us, and I have every confidence they will return to him sooner or later.

  Several hours later, the witch's powers come into my range. My theory has been proven, and they are ours for the taking.

  “I feel their powers. Ready yourselves.”

  Julian says, “Jola, Begonia, and I will kill Coralia. Lunet and Daichi, I leave it to you to apprehend Augusta or Arianna, whichever one is easiest.”

  I say, “In an area this remote, they will be in a vehicle. Keep to the road.”

  Numbers are on our side, but time is on Taralie’s. After taking a moment to inspect her talent, I see that her range is equal to mine. Our approach can use neither the element of surprise, nor a visible assault. We must get close enough to blindside Coralia. A few minutes after sensing them, I catch my first glimpse of the car. The behemoth of a vehicle jerks across lane markers, trying to escape. In an area as desolate and heavily forested as this, they have made it too easy for us. They are all there. No loose ends and no witnesses to clean up afterwards.

  Our immense