The Queen watched the bruising of the setting sun on her
beloved mountains. The purples and reds blended to make a mockery of the
beauty of her land. A soft breeze rustled the gauze of her clothes,
causing a shiver with its foreboding shadow. He would come for her
tonight. She'd foreseen the end. Gripping the pendant tightly, she
barely noticed that it drew blood. The chain hung heavy on her neck.
Soon, he would come. Despite the assurances of her lover, she would die
tonight.
* * * * *
The sun set slowly, mocking him with its beauty. Golden
light kissed the top of the desert palace. Shadows slid into silent
ranks beside their general. He stood, ready to destroy for his Brother.
When light fell below the horizon, he gave the silent command. They
moved over the ground, silent horrors, soldiers.
Dust began to swirl around the army, a storm like none
would ever see again. The general whispered to the winds, creating cover
for his dark soldiers. "The city will fall before dawn." His
whispered words danced in the sand. Shadows murmured as they dispersed.
A cold chill swept down his neck at the retreating backs of his
Brother's army.
The wall of sand swept upon the city, like the stories
of old. No one was safe from its destructive path. The general knew
because he felt every death, every choking cry from the sand's invasion.
A side effect of his Brother's magic flowing through the blood bond they
shared. His shadow warriors slaughtered all who tried to defend
themselves. No one was safe. Closing his eyes he tasted the bitterness
of this war. Shielded from the effects of the sand, he could almost see
in front of him.
Steadily, he made his way through the city. Corpses
lined the streets, but the sand did not enter the stairs of the palace.
No, his Brother had wanted this to end personally. The magic of the
storm beat against his shields. It wouldn't be long before the sand
would break through.
Cursing his existence, he took the stairs leading to the
palace two by two, pulling his curved blade from its sheath. Magic
slithered under his skin, making it tight. He abhorred magic of any
kind, and this would change him forever. Praying for death, he threw the
doors open with a blast of power.
Shadows flowed in behind him, cutting down the guards
before they could attack. The general stalked up the curved stairs,
ready to be done with this last request.
Entering the final room he was shocked to find the Queen
standing, waiting for him. Raising a hand, she said quietly, "Know
this, son of Assassins and general to a false king. You stand on the
threshold. I have foreseen two choices. You either follow your puppet
king, your Brother, to the banishment of your soul for eternity, or you
save the kingdom and become my King, my husband, but never my love. The
choice is yours."
Shocked, the general stared at the beauty before him.
The soft gauze of her attire whispered of softness and desire. "I
am truly tempted, my Lady, but I cannot stop a blood oath. You would
kill me in a moment, and you know it. Neither one of us have a
choice." He followed the blood of Brotherhood, he had no choice,
never did.
Nodding slowly, she smiled. Her eyes were luminous with
humor. "It is as you say, wise general. A blood oath is extremely
powerful, and I have made one as well." Raising her hand in a tight
fist, she squeezed.
Something shimmered. Staring, he saw blood travel in
rivulets down her arm. She held a pendant in her hand and he grew
enraged. A pendant, he'd been warned.
"You dare put a spell on me, desert witch?"
With a snarl, he leapt the distance to her. She bared her neck and he
sliced. In his follow through, he heard her slip to the ground, a rustle
of cloth around her. Shocked, he spun around. Dread filled his heart,
she'd made it an invitation. That had been too easy.
With the last of her breath, she released the pendant
from her grasp. Bending, the general took it from her neck. It called to
him, quietly. Careful of the soft gold, he removed the blood from the
center stone with the cloth of her blouse.
A terrible wail of anguish rose from the depths of the
room, the general moved, pulling his sword at the ready.
"DESECRATION. ABOMINATION. YOU HAVE DESTROYED THAT
WHICH BELONGED TO ME."
The general's ears began to bleed. He covered them with
his hands, but the echo still repeated.
A horrible vision rose from the pendant. Its skin was
obsidian and its eyes red like the flames of hell. The general shook. He
was a god of old. Hearing a small distressed sound, he watched the god
stare at the corpse of the Queen.
A silent cry fell from the mouth of the god as he swept
the Queen into his arms. His anguish had the general turning his head
away in shame. The voice of the Queen still whispered to his soul. He'd
made the wrong choice. Dropping to his knees, he stared in shock. But,
he'd had no choice. He looked to the god.
"I had no choice." The words poured from
trembling lips. This mighty god from child-hood stories terrified the
general like nothing of flesh. Terror rose in his heart. There would be
no mercy, no escape. There was no defense against the gods.
"OH, LITTLE MORTAL YOU HAD A CHOICE." Mocking
laughter rose from the throat of the being. Rage lit his features, and
the general began to shiver. The Queen settled with a rustle against the
shiny obsidian of his chest. "I MUST CALL UPON YOUR PUNISHMENT.
NEVER AGAIN WILL YOU BE ABLE TO CHOOSE." The voice rang with power.
"I BIND YOU TO THE WILL OF YOUR TRUE MASTERS. I BIND YOU TO THE
WILL OF HER SOUL." His voice broke as he looked down at her still
face. Raising tear filled eyes, he rasped his final binding. "I
BIND YOU TO THE WILL OF THE DJINN. BOW BEFORE ME SLAVE." His voice,
hoarse from the binding, held command of the general. He had no choice
but to bow.
Extending his arms above his head, the general placed
his forehead on the ground. His knees ached, but he could do nothing
else. Bracers snapped on his wrists and the pain of their binding set
his nerves on fire.
The storm raged outside, attempting to rip apart the
walls of the palace. His Brother felt every moment of torture. It would
kill him. The general tried to break free, but the magic wouldn't be
denied. Another course of fire traveled through his body.
Screaming in agony, he laid still, exhausted, unable to
move. His body twitched on its own, trying to pull away. For a moment,
he considered gnawing his arm off above the bracers, but could not bring
himself to do so. Despite the pain.
His soul severed from his body and he became like the
mist of the oasis. The binding drew him, pulling him into the pendant.
"I WILL MAKE YOUR SUFFERING GREAT, GENIE, SLAVE TO
MY PEOPLE. THERE WILL BE NO GREATER SUFFERING IN MY KINGDOM THAN THAT OF
THE ONE WHO MURDERED MY LOVE. NONE."
The terrible voice was silent, and the genie awaited the
will of his Master. A bottomless ache where his soul once set. All for a
Brother's Love.
(c) 2005 Dawn Montgomery
www.dawnmontgomery.com
