The Prisoner’s Princess Chapter 132

Bryson

I figured since they were miles in the sky, there was nothing I could do until they landed. I walked, trying my best to ignore this over the top parade that had formed by my existence, until the second biggest of them came to me.

It landed with a mighty thud, and bowed its head to me. It was a black serpent with deep red belly scales and the underside of his wings matched the same. He held a hammer within a circle on his forehead… my symbol, and transformed into a man with long razor claws. His black hair was straight as a pin, and longer than mine. It was in a dark brown braid that went to his knees, making a braided hoop that seemed thick as rope. His stance was that of a battle worn, seasoned warrior though at the same time, this shifter held almost an angelic quality to it. His harshness almost looked as if he were merely pretending he Could be tough, because his baby face held no scars.

“Master.” He bowed, snorting ashen smoke. His lisp made him extend the ‘s’ in master, though he looked at me as if I would punish him.

“I assume you’re from my father?” I asked with a raised brow.

“I am nothing more than the rock and iron of Tartaron and rotted flesh my lord.” He said quietly. “I am Spewtesh, the Decayed One.” He said proudly rising. “I am your steed to do with as you wish… I am the son of Rotsanguis, the Decayed One, Steed of the Master, the Black Serpent.” He said with pride.

“Then fly to the castle and await my arrival.” I said seeing him fly off without question… I didn’t need his gifts… I didn’t even know why I was here.

The rest of the souls that’d seen silently gave me praise. It was a fame and honor I Did Not want nor like, yet craved as if it were my nature…. I did not know why I was here, though for me to be here in my sleep meant that he probably wanted something, especially if he gave me a ‘gift’.

“Master please, partake of our foodstuffs.” Said the soul of a young maiden, whose face I think I recognized… She was the only one who got in the path of my steps. I think she was trying to give me some tribute.

“Forgive us young master for speaking to such grace without permission.” Kneeled a man, roughly grabbing her hand. It seemed they may have been wolves in life, as they were mates. I could see a thin red cord linking their hearts together….

“I accept my punishment whate’er it may be.” She said kneeling low, but I stared sternly at them.

The smell of fear and the great silence that came with them all seemingly waiting for my command made me feel uneasy. That much I knew… All looked through the windows of their shops or glanced from their low kneeling.

“I would not punish a genuine gesture of kindness. Show me your wares.” I said quietly, seeing them flinch with my command. I didn’t like this; it was damn near worship. I could smell the food from outside though, and I was hungry again. I didn’t have a handle on time here, because the night was longer than a normal one…. as was the day.

Inside held a glass counter where you could see frosted cakes inside akin almost to a modern shop today. The only difference was that the chalk writing wasn’t in English, though I could understand the hieroglyphics somehow. The till was like one you’d see before electricity and paper receipt usage, merely a box to hold the money, under lock and key, and in the glass were sweets that looked almost like confection I’d seen before except they used black wheat here, so the confections were a pumpernickel color at best.

I sat and I was served black coffee and a dark cinnamon roll with red sprinkles atop. White crème was served on the side, and when I added it, the coffee was gray instead of brown.

“My apologies young master again.” She bowed as she gave me a spoon, and this time I would quell their fear.

“No need to worry of me; I’m as mortal as you are.” I said taking a sip, reluctant for doing so, but confident that they did nothing to it.

“Whatever the young master says.” She bowed, though I could hear her thoughts now as I could my wolves; to her I felt as their king, and it terrified them I was here in the Commoner’s Quarter. Also now that I thought of it, this place too was entirely too small. It was like I was sitting in a child’s playroom or something.

“How long have you been in Tartaron; I feel like I know you.” I said looking at her unable to look away from my eyes.

“About a hundred your grace.” She shook. “You killed me and my kin, and we were sent here along with every mortal you’ve ever felled.” She looked at the floor, worried that she was rude.

“Where is your wolf; I don’t sense it.” I said and it was her mate that spoke up.

“Our Alpha tried raiding your campsite back then, and for it you killed us all. Our wolves are the property of the Pale Lady, and she didn’t deem it fair that they come here to be punished. Those who came and deserved it are tormented with their wolves, but we little souls live here in the city.” He said collecting his mate.

“And what of you? Do you like it here?” I asked, and he nodded fervently.

“This life is multitudes better than being a vagabond Rogue my lord. In life we roamed the wilds led by a mad tyrant, but here we make money, have a home, and even friends now. I do yearn for Coal, my wolf at times, but I feel his peace with the Lady. Honestly, that’s enough for me to know he’s ok.” He said with a smile.

I’d be lying if I said that I felt bad for killing so many, but back then in the wild, it was kill or be killed. They died because they came into my campsite thinking they could all kill me if they came as a group, and for it I destroyed their little Rogue pack, save the children. I made sure the women who lived made it somewhere safe by keeping my distance and letting them move on to another pack.

Their souls held no ill of me, and the food filled my stomach in a way I could not explain. I could feel the emotions they felt while they made it. Joy and pride held its own flavor….

When I reached the gates, the demons that guarded it originally the first time I’d come here bowed. They knew who I was, and seemed almost afraid to speak to me.

“Son!” Said the Horned One with open arms, walking, and giving me a firm pat on the shoulder. He wore armored scales of shining black iron, and his crown blazed in black and red flames, though his eyes held contentment.

“Why did you summon me?” I asked, and he laughed a boom that you could feel as a drum in your chest.

“My son, I am happy, for all my sons breathe in the world of the living, and my mate holds hope I can feel.” He said the last part putting his hand to his chest. “I rejoice that the yoke on her neck may yet soon be replaced with my hands to massage away her burden of imprisonment…. I rejoice that the repentant do not suffer for no reason within my realm as you can see. And lastly, I wish to give you encouragement in your peace that you have done good for the mortals Birrai’shivaal. I wanted you to feel a taste of your godhood my youngest. Stomp your feet and I will retrieve you, that one day if you feel comfortable enough, that we may share wine beyond this night.” He chuckled.

“I don’t understand.” I said as he motioned me to follow him. the black serpent he rode upon the first time he’d shown me the city flew down from the crimson sky, turning into a man of no significance next to the one I’d seen yesterday. At least he felt and looked as that of a normal mortal…. Even holding the same height as one, though the other one looked stronger than him. Compared to the serpent father rode, mine looked taller and more toned. His scales were shinier too now that I thought of it.

“I give to you Spewtesh, the Black Serpent of Rot and Decay. I made this one from hard black iron, tar and my own blood, as are the rest of them, though he is the son of the one I ride. I figured Asanguis Is a steed made of my flesh and clay, and your true brother has him along with teleportation. When the time comes, and you summon the Hammer to Smite your enemies, you will also summon Spewtesh as well, that you may ride in the sky and reign down your fire, lightning, and might.” He smiled, showing fangs, though I was suspicious of this.

“Why give me something so grand?” I asked and he grinned wider. “… people are not gifts. I don’t want a pet.” I said with folded arms. It looked like I’d broken the serpent’s heart, and my father slapped me on the back of the head.

“Why not?” He said waving his hand over the serpent, and a thin glowing string connected a tattoo between us regardless of my say, and he slapped it on my left shoulder. He bowed without a word, though his face was steeled. I was connected to him as Asanguis is to Xaxas. I knew his thoughts, feelings and life story, though I felt nothing from the tattoo itself, as it was inert. I half expected to feel pain from it, but it was likely his doing so no one thought anything of it unless I did summon him. “Your mother gives you a whole life, and I give you a ride in case the enemy you fight can fly. Right now, you’re but a Babe compared to me… to even your brothers.” He said quietly.

“I understand that.” I said seeing him shake his head.

“You do not understand being older than the universe. You do not understand the power that comes with that… I am timeless, and this is little more than a trinket or bobble to me. Honestly that does not describe how trivial creating another being for my son is. Something like this isn’t even a gesture compared to what I could do, yet you don’t want it. I created this one for You that he is almost as strong as Asanguis for Your sake, that you be protected from pathetic demigods….as you are More and it would be a Disgrace, a spit in my face that I allow my youngest death… you do not know what you can do, as you are not strong… nor willing enough to access your godhood yet. You are My son, so you have enemies you know nothing about yet… but they Will come, and you must protect what is yours.” He said ominously.

“You sound as if they knock on my door…” I said feeling slightly lightheaded. The new symbol on my body pulsed disappearing where I still felt the crest on my chest.

“They don’t, I honestly just wanted an excuse to see my son. Also I cleaned your mark up a bit… I didn’t touch a drop of your mother’s work, but Spewtesh fills in the cracks on the outer ring.” He said with a smile, slapping me on the back.