Chapter 2:

Chapter 2

A Witch's Calling of Desire


A summer sun skulked out from behind grey clouds to shine down on a field of ice and death. The world was cold, frigid. It was the type of chill that reached into a person’s bones and stole all will to live.

Frost and magic circled through the field, a deadly fog of war, thick and suffocating. It wrapped around the glaciers that jutted from the ground like sharp mountains and settled on the outlines of all those left behind. Demons and men lay where they had fallen, frozen, encapsulated like dolls in ice. Their faces were frozen in their final moments of horror.

From atop a glacier, a single drop of ice dripped down into a crater to tap Alora between the brow, rousing her from unconsciousness. She groaned, fingers twitching as the haze of darkness burned away to pain.

That attack had drained the last strength and magic she had. She lay there for a moment, a low buzz rang in her ears, making it hard to hear but Alora thought far off – or maybe it was close by, she wasn’t sure – there were people yelling.

She drew in a deep breath that rattled her lungs. At least, Alora thought as she lay there, she hoped that last attack had been enough to buy Isten’s troops time to escape. All she had to do now was find a way to hide until she regained the strength to flee.

Alora attempted to sit up, failed, and instead rolled onto her stomach. She didn’t think she was hurt, but every part of her ached. The magic gateways that ran through her like veins had been drained, leaving only pain.

She tried to push herself up again, and this time made it trembling onto her hands and knees, and looked around. The clouds were disappearing and sunlight refracted against the ice creating rainbows off the crystalline frost.

The sound of ice crunching under boots echoed into her hole. The hair on the back of Alora’s neck rose, and she jerked her head up. Above her, standing on an intersection between the glaciers, was a man with amber hair, amber eyes and horns.

Kasimir Kim, the general of the demon army.

Alora called on her magic reservoirs, but there was nothing left. She was defenseless, the knowledge hit Alora like a punch to the gut. Her body shook, every instinct within Alora told her to run and hide, but she couldn’t. She had nothing left. She was empty. All Alora could do was watch as the demon general slid down to the crater floor and step closer, cold yellow eyes trained on her.

Kasimir stopped a foot away from her. If Alora had the energy she could have even reached out and grabbed his shoe, but the strength even for that was gone. And by the empty, emotionless look in the demon general’s expression, he knew it too.

Alora gritted her teeth and with the last of her energy raised her chin. If she were going to die, she would do it on her terms. Even if he found her like this powerless and defenseless, Alora had her pride; she was Isten’s Snow Queen.

With an elegance that Alora would never expect, Kasimir crouched down. His hand reached for her neck, then paused. Alora trembled as long, almost delicate fingers, brushed against her throat. She waited for the killing blow, but it didn’t come.

Kasimir abruptly froze, hand still outstretched. His nose flared. Then before Alora could comprehend, his expression shifted; twisting into something she was unsure how to read.

Kasimir jumped back to his feet. His yellow eyes were almost gold as they stared down at her, his irises shaking. It almost looked like he was shocked, maybe even scared. But that wouldn’t have made sense.

“General!”

A voice called from the distance, followed by another.

“Did you find the witch?”

Kasimir didn’t move, just continued to stare at her. Then, just as suddenly as he appeared, he turned. “No.”

His voice was deep and low and sent an unexpected shiver of a different kind through Alora. He bent his knees and then jumped, landing back on top of the glacier.

“She must have escaped. We’ll go back.” His tone held a finality to it that didn’t allow argument. As Kasimir turned and disappeared over the ridge without a second glance, Alora’s body gave out.

She collapsed onto the ice, alone and alive.

That had been the only and last time Alora had met Kasimir. Soon after that, the war ended abruptly and the two nations of humans and demons began rebuilding friendly relations.

Alora opened her eyes to stare up at the painting. The man in it reminded her of the demon general with the vivid red hair and sculpted body. It was almost like the demon king was mocking her defeat to Kasimir in the last battle by placing this here. She gritted her teeth at the thought. The king could have at least put a more modest painting, not one where a demoness was being fucked by Kasimir with a giant dick. Alora pressed her thighs together, in the back of her mind, part of her wondered if the painting was really based on Kasimir. What if he had been the model for the demon in it?

“So explicit!”

Alora started and looked up.

“What do they take my lady as?” Millie asked with annoyance as she wiped her hands against her skirts as she exited the bathroom, her gaze locked on the painting above Alora’s bed. “Every time I look at it…How is my lady supposed to sleep with that above her bed? Every time you look up, you’ll see that-that huge snake right there!”

Alora grimaced. “It was probably hung there as a joke.”

“A horrible one.”

“Mmm.” Alora couldn’t argue. “Anyways, are you done?”

“Yes,” Millie said, perking up. “Do you need help with the dress?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever worn something this fancy,” Alora said, standing up as Millie drew near and retrieved the onyx gown from the bed.

“Well, even though it’s for dinner with the demon king, it is nice that you get to wear something so pretty now.” Millie said absently as she held out the dress for Alora to slide into.

“Yes.”

The gown was a beautiful piece of delicate onyx silk that shimmered in the light like stars across a moonless night. The deep shade of ebony was elegant and striking against Alora's skin. She had never worn something so exquisite before, it was a dress for nobility, and despite her call name of ‘Ice Queen’ all Alora had ever been was a soldier.

Alora twitched as Millie’s fingertips brushed along her back closing the dress.

“My lady?” Millie asked, pulling her hands away.

Alora shook her head. “I’m fine.”

Millie’s brown eyes narrowed. “I thought so before, but you are really flushed. Are you sure you’re well?”

“I’m fine.”

Millie made a noise as though she didn’t believe Alora as she looked her up and down. “You’ve-you’ve been a bit off, even before freezing the carriage earlier and the bathroom. It’s like…”

Alora bit down on her lower lip. Her nails dug into her palms as she waited.

Millie leaned forward, her expression serious. She grabbed Alora’s shoulders. “Did those demons curse you?”

“Huh?” Alora grabbed Millie’s cheeks again. “Enough of that.”

“Ouch. Ouch. Ouch,” Millie whined.

“No more conspiracy theories. Got it?”

Millie nodded.

“But, my lady,” Millie said, rubbing her reddened skin. “How else can you explain everything that’s been happening? You’ve been spacing out, you’re paler than normal, you’re magic is spiking randomly, and what about the increase in your nightmares? This all started when we arrived in Olgen.”

Millie had a point. Alora didn’t want to go down a rabbit hole chasing theories, but everything was a bit too convenient. The increasing dreams and her fluctuating power: Alora had wanted to think it was a cold, but after that day, she’d have to investigate.

“There’s nothing to be concerned about,” Alora mumbled. She shifted her gaze away. She couldn’t tell Millie that those nightmares were an entirely different kind of dream. As for the magic, Alora didn’t have a guess. “I’ll research tomorrow, but we can’t jump to conclusions. Not when the tensions are still so high between our nations and we don’t have any evidence.”

“But there isn’t any other explanation besides poison. I don’t know of any sicknesses that affect us besides maybe a calling.”

Millie paused. Her eyes widened and she sucked in a harsh breathe as she leaned closer, expression shifting to reflect the horror Alora felt sink into her own stomach.

“My lady, what if it’s that? What if you are on a calling?”

“No,” Alora said quickly, then clearing her throat, added in a controlled tone. “Callings are incredibly rare. It’s more likely that I’ve been cursed or be hit by then to be under a calling.”

“True.” Millie admitted in a reluctant tone. She pressed a finger to her chin in thought. “There was only one recorded death related to a calling in the last 100 years, but twelve witches who died from curses and eighteen from misfired spells.”

“…”

Millie knew too many random facts. No wonder the covenant assigned her as Alora’s maid, none of the other witches could handle her.

Alora forced herself to smile. “Anyways,” she clapped her hands, drawing Millie’s attention back. “Help me with my hair.”

She turned and went over to the vanity. The silk gown shimmered as she walked. It really was beautiful. Tucking the silk underneath her, Alora took a seat before the vanity.

Millie picked up a brush and ran it through Alora’s hair. “But are you sure you don’t want me to tell Lord Whittier that you are unwell?”

Alora shook her head. “He can’t do that. Isten will look weak if I’m not there. This meeting is too important for both sides. Even though tonight is only formalities, it will put Isten in a bad position for the negotiations over the next days if I don’t appear. The Olgen King will take it as a sign of disrespect, if I don’t appear with the other delegates, especially since I’m the only witch representing Isten. Besides, even though the war may have ended a year ago, I’m sure there are some within the nobility – just like those on our side – who are not satisfied with the treaty and are waiting to take advantage of any opportunity to sabotage the negotiations.”

“That’s true. I guess I’m just on edge because the demon king invited you personally. And with the timing of you being under the weather, it feels suspicious.”

"It’s all politics. After the old demon king died, his son had to shore up his support with the nobles. It was likely too hard to fight a war and also gain support at the same time. Besides," A flash of golden eyes staring down at her with pure distaste tugged at Alora's memory. Her fingers fisted on her lap. "the war had gone on too long already, people were tired."

“I know I asked this before, but why you? The king didn’t ask for anyone else by name to attend.”

“You’ve heard about it before, demon society cares first and foremost about power. These negotiations would hold little weight if we sent Lord Whittier here by himself. I needed to attend to show Isten’s commitment to the negotiations.”

“I don’t like it.”

“I know.” Alora smiled.

“Can I at least get you a potion or something for colds? Maybe I can make you a potion for a calling just in case.”

Alora snorted and raised an eyebrow, unable to hide the amusement from her expression. “Do you even know how to make one?”

“No.” Millie paused, before adding quickly. “But, I brought a master potion book. It definitely would have the instructions in there.

Alora laughed. “Well, if I’m still feeling off tomorrow, you can make me one.”

“Deal! And you’re all set.”

Alora looked up. Black hair had been piled into a bun with braided strands tucked into the back. “You did a great job.”

Millie beamed. “I had a great canvas.”

A knock sounded from behind her, and a male voice called through the double wooden doors. “Lady Kayden, Lord Whittier and the other delegates are ready to depart to dinner.”

“I’ll be right there.” Alora glanced back at Millie. She gave her maid a reassuring smile. “Everything will be fine, so don’t worry.”

This Novel Contains Mature Content

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