Private Tales The Fall

[Raziel]

He took the knife away from her skin, the barest stain on the edge of the blade. Raziel's fingers trembled as it set it down. His movements had been so assured before, but he was straining his concentration just to remain awake.

He curled a finger around the nick, letting several drops of blood pool together against his skin.

"Blood is power," he explained. "It is your life. You lose it all... and you die. I can..."

His eyes narrowed. The magic did not come easily when he was already exhausted. The blood bubbled against his finger ands then rose in a pink mist. It swirled and condense. The spell was bound. For just an instant she would feel the pulse of his own heart, the well of energy that was Raziel. The place those drops of energy fell into.

The blood sublimated into the magic ether. His eyes were screwed as the pain started. A twinge at fist and then a brutal heat that flooded his veins. Raziel pulled down the scrap of fabric. Blood welled in the angry wound in his chest. It formed a neat seal and slowly hardened into a scab.

"If I had taken your life...I could have healed it...complet-el-y..."

Raziel opened his eyes, looked to Feyre and then collapsed back down.

 

[Feyre]

Power..

Fey sneered. Her veins pumped full of blood and she was entirely powerless. Blood was not power, it was just another thing to be taken when there was nothing else to give.

She squirmed uncomfortably as her blood pooled against his finger, and she watched his magic take hold of it with a brief look of intrigue as it dissipated before her eyes, but the fleeting look gave way to a contortion of fear, revulsion and pain as she felt suddenly bound. She felt his pulse as though it were her own, and her skin crawled with it.

A gasp caught in her throat and escaped as a shuddered moan of pain, and she threw herself back from him and dragged herself a few feet back along the forest floor as though distance would make the searing heat stop. She stared at him, her eyes wide as she panted with panic and watched the wound in his shoulder heal, her own hand lifting absentmindedly to her own shoulder to press against a wound that wasn't there.

The pain had been sudden, but it quickly dulled to a throbbing ache and a nauseous unease that she couldn't shake. The same unease that she'd felt the last time she'd felt that loss of control over her own body, her own mind.

"Oh well then I suppose I should be entirely grateful to you." she snapped and pulled her knees in against her as he collapsed.

 

[Raziel]

"Still not murdering me then?" he mumbled a few minutes later. It took him some time to come back. The darkness had swallowed him whole after burning out the last candle he had.

Raziel slowly sat upright, reaching tentatively for the wound. There was a thick scab over it, the skin tender around it. There wasn't the power left to heal it properly without draining the last of her life. Better to have it protected from infection and a few more days of healing than risking a few months.

"At least I can fight again," he muttered. By this point he was quite certain that her own town would have descended into anarchy. It was a shame to miss it. He had to keep up the ruse that he was required to protect her. Otherwise he was going to have to force her to come along. He needed her as a token of proof for payment.

Right now, he possibly lacked even the strength to stop her from running away.

"Did you at least get some food before we left?" he asked as he stood.

 

[Feyre]

Fey snorted at his words as he finally came round.. "I reconsider it every minute." she muttered, watching silently as he sat himself up and tilting her head to get a curious look at his healing wound.

She nodded slowly at his question, staring at him a little while longer before she finally spoke again.

"Why did they want us all dead? If it was about wealth or lands why burn it all down? Where did the order come from?" she asked, her brow knit with the question that she'd been trying to figure out for a while. She had not wanted to ask him about it, she hadn't wanted to speak about it at all. "You told those men that the magister hired you to hunt us down. Who gave the order to kill the magister?"

 

[Raziel]

"So many questions, of which I would be glad to answer if I could. They did not know who killed the Magister. So either someone quite skilled loyal to your father ended him before slipping out of town, or his own mob just turned on him."

Raziel had to reflect that his own poor judgement had put him here. Keen to build Feyre back up so that she would be compliant on the journey he had let her go into the farmstead alone. He could have disabled the others and taken what they needed.

He was going to be feeling sore and miserable for weeks now. At least it was fascinating to have had Feyre be the one keeping him alive.

"He was an ambitious and deeply unpleasant man given too much power. If he had any backers then they would be looking to take advantage of the chaos. Did your family have any significant enemies?"

 

[Feyre]

"Everyone with wealth has enemies." she commented dryly. "But rooms that held such discussions were no place for me, as I was so often reminded. I don't know what my father had to deal with, I know that he and the Magister did not always see eye to eye. But this?..." she huffed and rubbed at her face. "This is surely a nightmare that I have not yet woken from." she muttered against her palms.

She fell silent for a moment as she stared at the shallow river and the small birds that washed in it, her eyes glazed over with thought.She hoped there were members of her father's guard still alive. They were fighting in the burning hallways as Sorcha lead her from her chambers, holding off the mob to let her get to safety. She had blocked out much of what she remembered, and each time she thought over it again there was a little more, and a little more, but whenever she went too far there was just darkness and smoke. Perhaps there were people still loyal to her father looking for her, as well as those who weren't, as well as those who wanted to take her head to whomever would pay them for it. She glanced to Raziel and frowned...

"Can you ride yet?"

 

[Raziel]

He felt no sorrow for her tale. If he could have his skin so easily pierced then he would have been torn apart years ago. The trail he forged through life was a chaotic one. In his wake was blood and misery. Raziel had no time to consider it and the implications of all those too weak or stupid to take control of their own lives.

"I will find the strength to ride away from here," Raziel replied. He felt like death, but he would not lie around in the middle of nowhere.

One foot in front of the other until it stopped. Or he stopped. There was always a goal, an aim. One that was clear in his mind. It was how he broke down the chaos of the world. He had a talent for it. He could find the order in the chaos and then use it to bring it all down. The world could burn and he would bask in its warmth.

 

[Feyre]

Feyre pulled herself to her feet and dusted the forest floor from her clothes as she walked toward him. "Right, lets go then." she huffed at him, her golden gaze narrowed as she tried to bury her hatred for the sake of progress. The closer she got to safety the sooner she'd be rid of him.

She'd scatter what the spent little fire pit with her boot and help him into his saddle if he so required the assistance, but the ride she'd spend in silence for as long as it took him to break it.

 

[Raziel]

There was silence for a long time. Raziel could think of nothing to say whilst he was thinking on the balance of debt. There was little honourable about the tiefling. He took what he want with little regard for how that affected anyone around him.

Feyre had kept him alive for her own reasons but she had kept him alive. Raziel took some time considering this. Perhaps he would still use her as the token to keep his payment, to deliver one his proposition. He could ask the Baron to keep her alive. Getting fucked by some portly minor noble to pop out some children to seal their claim to her family's lands was better than getting burned alive.

Raziel cleared his throat.

"Have you ever been out to see your cousins this way?" he asked.

 

[Feyre]

His voice fell over her like a bucket of icy water, stirring the senses that she'd allowed to relax in the silence and dragging her mind back to reality. She'd been far away in her more pleasant memories, memories she was determined to be rid of as soon as she met a mage who could do so. She wondered who she might be without them, but it had to be better than who she would be if she kept them. The newer memories lay in a part of her mind she was trying her best to keep locked, but they'd fester there and consume her consciousness until she was nothing more than a husk.

"Not for many years, no.. My father brought me when I was a child, but I barely remember it.." her brow furrowed.

"Do you really intend on delivering me safely and leaving what's left of my family alone?.." she asked and turned to look at him.

 

[Raziel]

Raziel looked back to her, taking a second to form his answer. If that was the truth then she had little to go on for judging her extended family.

She would, before the week was up, know all about his involvement in matters. At least he assumed there was no way it could be kept a secret. If the council who had hired him could keep Feyre under their thumb without giving anything away then they were more capable than he gave them credit.

Would she try and take her own life again before being used in their plots? He decided that she probably would.

It wasn't really a favour to plan this out with the architects of her family's demise. If anything it was an added extra he should be paid for. Delivering another token to secure their power along with instructions on how to use it.

"I do, yes. I am sure they will put a group together to retake your home. Though I daresay the Baron will have one of his sons take charge. If I get you there safely, will you give me at least a fair run with the wind at my back before telling them of my part?" he asked.

It sounded more like idle curiosity than Raziel trying to bargain for his own safety.

 

[Feyre]

Epione had slowed to a lazy trudge, but Feyre gently pulled back on her reins as Raziel spoke, and the horse stopped in the middle of the dimpled road. Fey stared ahead, a creasing frown etched on her brow and her eyes glazed over in thought as she considered one of the Baron's son's being in charge of her father's estate. She didn't answer his question..

"He would benefit from this, wouldn't he?..." she muttered pensively. Her father may not have had any enemies that she knew of, but people were greedy, and her father's lands were vaster, wealthier than that of his cousin. "What if this is his doing? What if I'm walking to my death anyway? You.." her frown deepened and she looked at him.

"You know my life is not worth living. You stopped me taking my own life so that either you, or he could take it instead.." her jaw clenched. "Easier to transport a living person than a corpse, right?...." her fingers tightened on her reins.

 

[Raziel]

It was a pretty fucking enormous leap of logic that no normal person would follow. Feyre was no longer in any regular state of mind. Daggers had come at her family from the shadows without warning. She had watched everyone she knew slaughtered.

"I do not work for them," Raziel said plainly, slowing to a stop. He managed to look entirely indifferent to the conversation. He was a man of a thousand masks.

"Just listen to that argument for a moment. The Magister wanted every last member of your family killed so that he could have power. For himself. Do I strike you as someone who would go to the trouble of saving your life just to avoid the trouble of...taking proof in some form. You don't have to take a whole corpse to get a bounty. Trust me in that regard. "

 

[Feyre]

It was a horrible feeling, the hopelessness. Having no-one to trust when she was so utterly helpless was difficult to come to terms with. She had not been made ready for this world, nothing more than a lamb for slaughter without a hope in hell of surviving it. Whether her logic was off or not, he did have a point and she bit back bitterly at him. "I suspect you'll be paid more for handing me over alive." she muttered.

She continued on because she had no other choice. Not until she found some place safe. Not until she found someone who she thought could protect her. She would grind her teeth and bide her time for her own shot at survival, but the longer the hopelessness lay draped over her like a cold, wet blanket, the drearier and more pointless that survival seemed.

"Teach me." she frowned with a side glance at him. "Walls clearly can't protect me. There's nothing stopping this happening again so I want at least a chance at looking after myself instead of being so fucking helpless." she huffed irritably.

 

[Raziel]

"I suspect I wouldn't be paid at all should I present your corpse to a family member. I think I might get worse should you decide to tell them I had a hand in the collapse."

Collapse was the kind of word a historian would use to describe the demise of her family's seat of power. It was a small town in Raziel's mind, but he always thought big. To her this wasn't history. It was the eradication of everything she knew and loved.

"It is not a long journey," he said. However, as far as Raziel was concerned it was more amusing that silence. It was slowly dawning on him that he would not get much more entertainment out of the girl.

"But I can show you where you want to be sticking a blade to make someone...go away."

 

[Feyre]

"Collapse.." she laughed under her breath having sneered at the word. "You say it as though it fell of it's own weariness. It did not collapse, it was obliterated and my family were massacred." she glared at him, her honey gaze venomous and dark. "But they failed, so long as I am still alive. And that reason alone is why I am more determined to live. Just so they know that they failed." her gaze narrowed and her focus shifted back to the path ahead.

"I don't care what you teach me, so long as I can kill someone if I have to." she huffed. A few short days ago the thought of killing someone had never entered her mind, and she'd have been shocked and nauseated had it done so. Now she had blood on her hands, now she'd do what she had to do to survive irrespective of who or what stood in her way, she would not go quietly without a fight.

"If you do I'll forget to mention your involvement until you are at least off of the premises."

 

[Raziel]

It was a fair retort. It was easier to glide through life when the only thing you had a care for was yourself. Raziel also liked his possessions, especially his now ruined coat.

If he had the choice of bringing back his coat or her entire family, he would have chosen the coat.

"That seems very fair," he replied. A small crack in the facade. He was exhausted and had taken the offer too easily. No request for proof on the matter.

"We will find somewhere to make camp for the night before it is dark and I will show you how and where to stab a man."

 

[Feyre]

Feyre nodded in response to his agreement, and she caught herself before kicking at Epione’s sides. She’d been dead set on getting to the safety of the Baron’s estate as soon as possible, but now she let Epione trudge lazily as her doubts tickled at the back of her mind. She doubted at that point that she’d ever trust anyone again.

The rain came. The calm, dreary sort that seemed harmless but clung to everything and soaked it through in minutes, and by the time the sun clung desperately to the horizon, Feyre was shivering with cold. She tugged at her horse’s reins and led her deeper into the wood to find a small clearing encircled by tall pines that kept most of the drizzling rain out.

She slipped from her saddle and wordlessly set about collecting wood as quickly as she could in desperate need of heat.

 

[Raziel]

Raziel was feeling the cold too. It seemed to draw out every ache and pain, and his wounds were still fresh. Layering spells upon spells was like scar tissue in scar tissue. It grew weaker each time. Attempting to use more magic to make it heal now was likely to do him real harm. He would have to make do.

There was plenty of dry kindling that had been sheltered by the trees, but it still took time to get the fire going.

Raziel warmed his hands over the infant flames until he had enough feeling to start this 'lesson'.

He set out a roll of leather from his back. It contained a few vials of oils and poisons and all manner of short blades.

"Choose one. Then you can try and stick one in me," he announced. Walking backwards he turned his shoulders to be face on, presenting a rather large target for Feyre. A great wall of red misery that had cut the cords holding her lift together.

 

[Feyre]

The oppressive cold had seeped so deep into her bones that she wondered if she'd ever feel truly warm again. The keep was cold in winter, with it's large windows and stone walls, but there were huge roaring fires and blankets of fur and finest wool to counter it..More of that 'idle opulence' she'd taken for granted, and now that she realised how harshly the world treated people without wealth she understood their jealousy and disgust.

Her focus shifted from the fire and her thoughts, to the roll of ominous objects that he displayed, and her nose wrinkled as it had done when she'd seen the garish pliers he'd carried. She couldn't help but wonder how many people he'd tortured, how many had died by his hand, but wasn't likely to like the answer very much and so she swallowed the question and did as he asked.

She chose a simple enough looking dagger, her hand pausing for a moment as her recent thoughts whispered in her mind again. She was sure the dagger had seen the blood of many, but she cast the thought aside and slipped it from the leather and stood to face him, her fingers curling around the handle..

"Well I'm not entirely stupid. I know where you heart is supposed to be." she pointed the blade at his chest with a quirk of her brow. "Or I could slit your throat open.." she added. "But right now any chance of those would require you to be unconscious."

 

[Raziel]

Raziel grinned. It was always a wicked smile of needle teeth. His golden eyes were almost always smiling. At least the crossbow bolt had wiped every trace of amusement from his face. Feyre would always have that.

She hadn't been foolish enough to thrust the blade at him. Disappointing, but not unexpected. She would grow less foolish each day she saw the harsh realities of the world. Two competing threads. The world trying to kill her and it trying to teach her. Only one would win.

"The heart is well protected from a quick blow," he explained. "And a man can take several strikes to the chest and keep fighting for some time before he realises that he is dead." Raziel looked down at the knife, hands out to his sides and empty palms facing her.

"A knife is less useful in a straight fight than almost every weapon out there. There are some rules to follow."

His tail snatched out and wrapped around her wrist, yanking it to pull the blade to the side. Raziel darted into the space left behind.

His left hand took a full grip of her shirt, driving her back half a pace and taking her off balance. She would feel the cold kiss of metal against the side of her throat.

"Never let them see the knife until it is too late. Never lead with the knife, always your other hand," he said, twisting his grip of her shirt for emphasis.

"Go for the neck."

 

[Feyre]

And just like that, he reminded her of exactly why she should be afraid of him. Every time she insulted him, sneered at him, tried to murder him... He reminded her in less than a second exactly how out of her depth she was.

A gasp caught in her throat as the prehensile tail coiled around her twist, she was pulled forward and pushed back, held by her shirt and left to the mercy of those nefarious yellow eyes and the cold press of steel against her throat.

Her pulse raged with adrenaline and a shuddered breath tumbled from her lips, betraying the sudden burst of fear that dominated her usual defiance. She swallowed, and nodded quickly, her brow furrowing.

"It's unlikely that anyone else who's trying to kill me will have an extra limb.." she clenched her jaw and pulled back against the restraint he had on her wrist.

 

[Raziel]

"That is true, but they might have a sword."

Raziel's tail slipped from her wrist. It flicked out far behind him for balance as he drew her entirely upright again. The blade was gone, his right hand empty once again.

"Hand at your side, or just behind your hip. Blade pressed to you and out of sight. At least less obvious. Enough for someone to question if they think you might be armed.".

Raziel took two steps back, arms going out wide again. Finally something interesting. The pain briefly flickered across his face. He was still healing.

"Free hand first, outstretched and knife beyond my reach. Then you strike for the neck. Point first." His tail coiled from side to side. If he had been a cat it would have been showing that he was in a playful mood. He was in a playful mood.

 

[Feyre]

Fey's shoulders rolled as she straightened herself out, smoothing out her damp shirt with a peevish huff. She paced for a moment, slipping her hand to her side and holding the blade behind her hip. The other free hand pressed against her other hip as she watched him.

She moved toward him, a few casual paces, careful of that swishing tail and the reach that it had. Her lip twitched with a ghost of a smirk as she paused just out of reach of him for a brief moment before her free hand shot out to grip his shirt and pull him as he'd done with her, and her blade hand moved swiftly in the hopes of pressing it against the side of his neck.

 

[Raziel]

"Good," he hissed.

She hadn't quite pulled him off balance, but she had a solid grip on him. His own heart raced for the feel of cold steel pressed to his skin. The sharp edge of the blade crossing the line that visibly fluttered with his pulse. His own life force protected by just his bare skin.

Raziel slowly reached up and wrapped his fingers around her wrist, drawing the blade just down from that vulnerable artery. He had nearly died to some common farmer and yet standing on that precarious edge was still so enthralling.

"When you strike, pull the blade right back again. Use your free hand to keep space. Stop them grabbing the blade."

The grip one her wrist became like iron, restricting her movements. He pressed the blade tighter, indenting crimson skin.

"Just the slightest movement to draw blood. Do it."