📚 house shivashi - blood for blood Part 2 of 3
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SCIENCE FICTION FANTASY

House Shivashi Blood For Blood Pt 02

House Shivashi Blood For Blood Pt 02

by masterravenin
19 min read
4.58 (1400 views)
adultfiction

Author's Note: This is Part 2 of House Shivashi's 3-part series, As such, it is suggested to read in numerical order to maintain continuity.

All sexual activity is performed by those of age 18+. Please do not copy any of the text for public usage without my permission. I welcome constructive feedback and comments.

***

Day 4

I awoke to the crackling of a roaring fire popping nearby, the sound of it something beyond what a normal fireplace could support or hold. My fingers uncurled and stretched out across smoothed cobble stones, every muscle in my body aching with pain. The lashing heat from the nearby emanation gave my cheeks a sunburned feeling, slowly rising and reaching a stable sitting position before opening my leaded eyelids.

Horror, pure and unfiltered, tore my heart from my chest. House Shivashi was burning, bright and pure like the midsummer sun mere feet away. I was at the base of the short flight of stairs in front of the drive fountain, helplessly staring up into the sickening tragedy.

Thick stone, once cut and made to weather any storm, was blackened and flame-licked. Puddy-like mortar stretched as blocks fell away and tumbled, cracking open like hard-boiled eggs as they deafeningly struck upon each other. Ancient timbers splintered and fell, each thud of their staged collapse an icy pin driven into my brain.

The hungry glow of the healthy fire brought the travesty to such menacing, fierce clarity. House Shivashi was screaming out in pain, its heritage and legacy being consumed ember by ember.

To ashes once more, from the soot it had been born from. It was my arrogant hand that had driven it to this end.

I have done this. This was my choice.

"Hello, Saiese," came the familiar, haunting voice. It was kind, old, and had been dead for years.

My chin quivered as despair multiplied. Never had I been so wracked with agony as to hear that name once more. I choked on the very air that had always been there to nourish me. My eyes shifted to the very edge of my vision, slowly turning and nervously looking up to my right.

Master Mirakantao was there, his red-scaled pants and jacket an eerie overcast to the pale yellow shirt beneath it. The diamond-scaling of his bald head reflected the flame light in a hypnotic, poisonous pattern. A comforting hand, adorned with needle-like fingers, drifted down to parentally rest on my right shoulder.

Shallow breaths caught and held in my chest, each stutter of air laced with freshly-squeezed anxiety. I couldn't keep my eyes off the spot on Mirakantao's shirt where his heart would be, scarlet lifeblood seeping through and soaking the pale yellow fabric. A pulsing neck wound just beneath his chin near his throat openly bled, the collar of his shirt stained dark red.

I had delivered those very wounds to him thirteen years ago in a fit of absolute justice, a balance of bone and blood paid to finally be set right. Yet that judgment seemed held in question when seeing Master Mirakantao again in the flesh, lending credence to the futility of a good thing done for the right reasons.

Mirakantao didn't seem to notice or react to his grievous wounds, not caring to look down upon me from his observation of the manor brightly burning. The only movement was his long fingers on my shaking shoulder, a caress back and forth from neck to shoulder. His touch reminded me of the brand of kindness he'd once offered me after a job well done.

We had been a perfect pair, strong and undivided, until I'd been offered another choice; another way to live.

"Welcome home," Master Mirakantao murmured, the kindness in his tone so hideous it made me cringe in sorrow.

The scream that left my chest was an unnatural sound, so imperfect and cringingly primal. It shattered the world around me like the pitch of a perfect opera singer, the tempered glass of my mind splintering into icicle glints before flying apart in a shattering crescendo.

***

My eyes flew open and I quickly sat up, the silky green gown I had on soaked through with heavy sweat. My helmet of knotted, thick hair was caked to my neck, raspy breaths pushing out as I frantically took in my surroundings.

I was in my bed inside Shivashi Manor, thick quilts piled high all around me. I caught sight of Kraus as he snapped awake from a nearby chair to my right, the raggedy ensemble he was wearing like a pile of discarded clothes. A kind hand wrapped around the fingers of my left hand, a sharp head turn locking eyes with Telos as he sat at my bedside.

"It's alright, Master Shivashi. You're home and in good hands," Telos kindly assured, patting my hand and smiling. "Be at peace. You are still recovering and need more time to shrug off your affliction."

"A-affliction?" I repeated, unable to say anything else.

The sudden adrenaline rush I'd just experienced quickly seeped away, leaving a body-heavy fatigue in its place. A bout of intense dizziness blurred my vision like ice rapidly covering a lake, sapping all my strength as I collapsed back into my pillows.

There was a rush of movement around me, hushed words and frantic gestures filling my weakened senses, before I felt something hot brush across my forehead. In its wake a fierce wave of coldness followed, the thick comforters little defense against the muscle-spasming chill.

I shivered hard as my teeth chattered, pulling tightly into a ball and trying to draw warmth into my core. Only coldness resided there, each thud of my heartbeat so heavy and momentous. I could hear it, my temples pounding with my racing pulse and causing a splitting headache before consciousness left me once more.

***

I slipped in and out of awareness many times, hazy blurs of people around me speaking in concerned tones. Even though I tried to talk and attempted to rise, each time only left me more weak and frantic than before. Whatever Moira and Hu-Vei had set out to do before it had been interrupted, I couldn't help but acknowledge that perhaps they had succeeded.

I was powerless, weak, and completely at the mercy of whatever I'd been afflicted with. I wasn't a Master anymore, the dead weight of its promises and potential a heavy armor I was now suffocating beneath. I'd fooled myself into believing I was strong enough to do the impossible, raising my house and returning peace to the Western Reaches.

House Ciav, along with Gar-O-Nitao and Arlia, weren't going to let that happen.

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The fever dreams came and went for hours on end, blurs of vivid color and feeling smeared together in a slurry of unfiltered existence. I couldn't stop them, their unorganized and chaotic expressions were so random and non-sensical, but with a little help I could focus and draw them out one at a time.

The Sea at Night is a powerful mental discipline of focus, used for walling off and protecting the mind from intrusion. It also had another application, that of forcefully silencing thoughts and feelings. It came easily when called, calming the waves of my internal chaos and instantly turning it into tranquility.

The discipline of Rocks in the River came next, another layer of separation from oneself that provided foundation and stability. If used in conjunction with the Sea at Night, it could steadfastly surround and contain all of my now smoothed emotions and feelings; to step outside and observe them each objectively.

The disciplines had been gifts from Master MIrakantao, a few of the only positive things that I could ever truly thank him for. There was still so much burning hate that smoldered inside my soul, flaring up every time an inkling of his presence was remembered. It was now his genuine strength and commitment to mental fortitude that would serve me in my most dire of times.

I despised using what he taught me, for that meant Mirakantao was still alive and powerful inside me. Even then I could not discard his techniques when I was in dire need of them, clenching my teeth and giving way to his tutelage.

Damn you,

was the only gratitude I could offer, an emotional backhand to the both of us and the time we'd once shared.

Like saturated clothes placed onto a sturdy hanger, I slipped out and stepped away from my heavy skin of racing thoughts and kaleidoscope feelings. The voided emptiness left in their absence let me draw my first, unlabored breath. I was free for now, my tried-and-true disciplines holding all my issues in stasis, yet the forebayance couldn't last forever.

The outfit would have to be donned in full once more before I returned in earnest, leaving me to find a way to unburden it before I did so. The tiny hairs along my shoulders stood up as I examined my grimy shell. It took the form of my favorite chocolate-colored, three piece suit, a comfortable extension of functionality and efficiency that I'd worn numerous times.

Both Master Ravenin and Mirakantao had known a different lady who'd worn those clothes, the fine threads of masterwork craftsmanship now covered in gray clay and oozing black grime. Dried blood covered the cuffs of the arms, staining the peeking white shirt beneath with numerous deeds once done and thoughtlessly executed.

Even though I was temporarily empty of all that burdened me, to see the expression of my thoughts and emotions, physical and staring back at me, was another thing entirely. It was a touchstone of everything I was, all my life wrapped into one set of clothing.

This won't be easy,

hummed my uneasy mind.

It's not supposed to be easy, Alasia, not really. Only truthful.

Something settled heavy into the front left pocket of the sodden chocolate suit, a sudden gravity making the cloth stretch from weight. I reached out and opened the flap, tentatively slipping my fingers inside. A thin metal ring, large like one would have to carry a set of keys, met my hesitant investigation. I encircled my fingers around the keyring, carefully drawing out a set of three dull, iron keys.

I had just freed the keys from the pocket as the left sleeve bent on its own accord, a gnarled, bloody hand snapping out and tightening around my wrist. Fearful amethyst eyes darted up to where the head of the suit would be, a grim pair of pulsing green and red eyes appearing above the most hideous smile I'd ever seen.

"There you are,

" came the honey-warm tones of absolute corruption.

I knew those poisoned eyes, felt that tone ringing in my chest as though I'd once recited those very same words. I couldn't say the name, didn't want to for all the pain it would cause me, yet still it echoed like a heralding gong through my paralyzed thoughts.

Saiese.

I lurched back as my heart hammered in my chest, the visage disappearing the instant I broke contact with the suit. A hard, hot sweat covered my brow in an instant, the affliction no doubt accelerating by my touch with the corrupted side of myself.

I swallowed hard as I stared into the empty shadow behind the suit, half expecting something to jump out and attack me. No such thing happened, the ghost-like memory leaving only a fearful wake behind it, however the encounter made one thing perfectly clear.

Saiese was here, strong and determined. Deep down I knew what she wanted, yet I couldn't ever bring myself to confront her before. Each time I used the tools of my other life, the spycraft and assassination processes that led me to once be so deadly and perfect, it was just one more foothold for Saiese to use and offer her envenomed support.

There are debts in this world that have always been mine to pay. The death of Mirakantao, the deafening sledgehammer strike that changed my path and life forever, had left an anger inside me that I've always staved off and been unable to soothe.

Saiese still lived inside me, her memories of honored servitude just as potent as the steps I'd taken to distance myself from them. She was not happy I'd brought it all to an abrupt, permanent end.

She was here now, awake and aware of my thrumming presence. Our confrontation could not be held off much longer. The limited strength I had was conveniently held in check by whatever Moira and Hu-Vei had done to me.

I was weak, off-centered, and alone inside my mind, the fever dream now a mindscape to traverse. The colorless keys in my shaking hand were the answer, their smooth weight perfect as ever guiding wisdom could be.

The trial that Hu-Vei had mentioned now made total sense. He was forcing me to complete my Master trials in order to recover my power, even though they'd never been truly defined. Gro-Shuma said there would be challenges, however I never expected this.

Yet, how much had Hu-Vei really been able to lock away? Whatever he'd been doing had become interrupted when Kraus and Scav rescued me. That meant there was a chance something unrestrained was still floating around inside my mind that I could use.

I wasn't powerless, far from it. I just had to search, hoping one of the keys led me to providence.

My eyes turned away from the hanging suit, coming to rest on a four branched, silver candelabra standing on a nearby table. Each of the long wicker candles were lit and perfectly glowing, the darkness unbreaking outside the hue of their warm aura. The lovely flames didn't waver as I picked it up and took it into my right hand, lifting it above my eyeline and bathing the area with soft light.

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As furniture and walls started to reveal themselves I realized I was inside my Shivashi Manor bedroom. The tall wardrobe to my right was open, housing the grimy suit of my choices and consequences. My postered bed was to the left, thick brown carpets woven with beautiful red and gold stitching beneath it.

Everything looked different, though, like it was all new as opposed to quaintly refurbished. The smell of the fire which once consumed it was gone, replaced by the wholesome aroma of a lived in, caring home.

"Dorail, are you sure this is the best way?"

came a beautiful female voice, the sound making my heart weep in my chest.

"If we continue down this path, there's no turning back."

I followed the voice to the leather chair in front of the unlit fireplace. The dry logs suddenly caught flame, lighting up the small resting area. The ghostly image of my mother appeared in the chair, clearly fretting. My father stood close by to her left, stout like an oak.

"House Ciav isn't taking no for an answer, Shinna,"

hummed the warmly perfect, masculine voice of Dorail, my father.

"House Larlow is with us, yet Remris Ciav has almost total control over the dock and the merchant guilds. House Arktas is holding out, however the attrition will only get worse if we stand by and do nothing."

Tears welled in my eyes as I swallowed down my sadness. It had been forever since I'd heard my parent's voices, the faded echo of their presence now bringing it to gentle perfection. Even though their images were blurry and lacking detail, they were without a doubt a balm to a daughter in desperate need of stability.

"Can't we just leave, Dorail? There is nothing here worth saving that we can't take with us."

My mother, Shinna, reached out and took my fathers hand, placing it against her cheek as the air rippled with the sound of her voice.

"Our roots can be put down elsewhere, the Western Reaches left to their own desires and corruptions. The Ivory Council can't, won't protect us, no matter how honest our devotion. The Folded Path serves no one here anymore."

A heavy gravity settled between the two throbbing images, my father leaning down and kissing the head of my mother.

"And if we flee, running as far as we can leaving the Western Reaches in our wake, House Larlow will be left to defend Gar-O-Nitao by itself. I cannot leave them to fend for themselves when they need us, and neither can you. Our families are bound and sealed together, Shinna. I will honor that pact, no matter the sacrifice."

A pounding sound down in the foyer of the manor sent the images of my parents into shaking distortion.

"It's begun,"

whispered the weary tones of my father, both images turning toward the door in fright before completely disappearing.

I reached out and ran my fingers through the space my parents had once occupied, a great swelling of emotion filling my core with warmth. I ached to touch and feel them real beneath my fingers once more. My life had changed that day, the resonance of a choice made echoing around me in saddened understanding.

A bond forged is a bond honored. Everyone wants to be your friend when times are easy. It's only when they're hard do you see the true alloy of its manifestation. Honor shines through, no matter how dark the world becomes. To the end, together, whatever it may be.

I took a moment to recover myself, clearing my cheeks of tears before easing toward the door and opening it. The light of the candelabra in my hand lit the way into the encompassing darkness, stepping out onto the balcony overlooking the main foyer and grand stairwell.

This wasn't just dark, it was abyssal.The shadows beneath me made the ground floor look deeper than it should have been, the orb of revelation cast by the candles barely enough to see by. The polished glow of the sturdy bannister along the stairs drew me closer to it, shifting the candelabra to my left then gripping the smooth wood with my right.

Here we go.

Each slow step down into the darkness was filled with frightened apprehension, every breath shallow as though any stray sound could wake the sleeping beast that resided here. I could feel it watching me, the night-seeing gaze of an experienced predator gauging and tracking its prey.

I couldn't keep the hairs on the back of my neck from standing up. The wave of sensation rippled down my arms, causing the rest to rise in attention. My eyes were open wide and grasping for any detail I could make out, the fog-like shadows parting before my guiding light down to the middle landing.

The beautiful painting that had once dominated the center of the wall was renewed and beautiful once more, however it was not Havaan Shivashi's gorgeous portrait upon the canvas. I saw myself and my parents, dressed in finery and posing as though it had been professionally done.

My father stood tall and regal in his dark chocolate suit, white button-up shirt with a striking black tie laying upon it. He had a square jaw and a pair of piercing brown eyes, groomed brown mustache matching the shade of his only slightly graying, full head of thick hair. His left hand rested upon my mothers right shoulder, his right placed parentally upon mine.

My mother was adorned in a long velour brown dress bound comfortably at the waist, the cut of the cloth elegant while remaining conservative. Her soft brown eyes were regal above her pert nose and set jaw, long chestnut hair elegantly braided and trailing over her shoulder.

Then there was me peacefully nestled between them, hands held down and folded over the waist of a respectable brown dress. My dark hair was bound high at the back of my head, brow smooth and nose clean, yet it was my eyes that drew a revelatory gasp.

My gaze was black wells of nothingness as though they'd been hollowed out, leaving only the dead space where shadows could be summoned from. With trembling fingers, I reached up and lightly touched the voided stare of my younger self. I gazed into the sullen darkness with horror, wondering what it could mean.

When the master bedroom door above suddenly slammed shut, I nearly jumped out of my skin. Vivid fright was alive in my eyes as I raised the candelabra and looked up.

There was a whisper of ethereal sound, something unrecognizable and not made of this world, just before a moving, misty pocket of presence swept down the stairs toward me. I reflexively stepped back as the apparition tightly curled around the corner of the middle landing. It swiftly descended to the ground floor, disappearing into the swallowing black below.

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