Page 104 of Of Vows and War: Special Edition
Heat from Alemthian’s wretched pale sun beat down on me as I let Asher’s magic invade my senses—my mind. She was a beastly thing when she wanted to be, and this morning was apparently one of those occurrences.
“You’re taking too long,” I drawled, lifting my hand to inspect my nails before shoving her out of my head. Across the training area we had confiscated on one of the few grassy patches, she stared with squinted eyes and pursed lips, her fists balled at her sides.
“Pardon me for not wanting to tear apart your mind to break through your mental shields,” she hissed out. Ironic seeing asmy shields were made of—“snakes. Your shields are made of horrible, awful, pink snakes.”
“Oh, so youarein my head then?” I asked, smirking over at her. She was wearing those same training leathers that all of Bellamy’s little cronies donned obsessively, the outfit bland. Asher was far from that though. She was quite stunning now that I really had the chance to look at her. The painting above Padon’s bed didn’t do her justice, nor had that moment we first met forever ago. Or, well, it felt like forever. Time on this world moved too quickly.
“I do not have to be in your head when you are practically shouting your thoughts. Thanks for the compliment by the way.” Sweat dripped down the side of her face, which was much sharper with her hair pulled back in two braids. Tilting my face down, I took in my loose pink locks before peeking up at her below my rosy lashes. Her eyelids fell halfway as her head cocked to the side and her lips jutted out.
“Do not ask me what you are about to,” she ordered, crossing her arms. I let my bottom lip stick out, pouting like a youngling who wanted extra dessert.
“Will you braid my hair?” I asked anyway. She groaned, letting her head fall back.
Asher and I had formed a sort of alliance since I started helping her with her magic. She was a descendant of not only Stella, but Asta too, which meant she had stubbornly refused just as the female I looked at like a sister would have. But I had worn her down with brute force. Getting to use my magic on her had been exciting, and I so loved being able to understand what she thought of as sinful and virtuous. Even more exciting was seeing how drastically her subjective opinions on those things had changed since she’d been gone.
We now met every morning, and I had the chance to see that she was somehow a perfect mixture of Solana and Asta. LikeSol, Asher was curious and always moving. She wanted more than what was given to her, even if she didn’t always believe she deserved it. Similar to Asta, Asher was fierce and brutal, often acting on the unending anger that pulsed inside of her. Just as they both had been, Asher was secretly kind. She wanted peace and was willing to suffer or lose herself to find it for those she ruled over. It made for a great leader.
But what made me truly begin to like her was just how much of a bitch she was.
“I feel it is important that you understand how much torture I would withstand if it meant I did not have to do your hair right now,” she seethed, approaching me.
“Do you want me to snap all of your fingers so that the act of braiding is torture? Best of both worlds.” Her dark gray eyes rolled, but soon she was behind me, her fingers brushing through the sweat-soaked strands of my hair.
“Hearing your voice is worse, honestly,” she remarked, yanking harshly on my hair.
“Ooo yes, mommy, pull my hair,” I moaned, knowing it would make her angrier.
Her annoyed groan was paired with her lips near my ear, her breath fanning across my cheek. “Tell me more of the story or I will cut off all of your hair with my dagger.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have given that back to you,” I sighed out. Rolling my shoulders back and closing my eyes, I let the words begin to flow. “Where did we stop yesterday? Oh yes, the generation before mine. Well, that’s actually a rather sad chapter. Padon and I were forced to take our seeds way too early under two entirely different circumstances. His mother had him at a very old age, not that it mattered to her physical health or appearance. But living that long, it does something to one’s mind. It’s miserable. We grow bored and eager for something new. Eventually, not even conquering and raising entire worldscan appease you. Morgana was ready to go, so she forced Padon to take her seed. Stella said she held Padon for hours after she ripped out Morgana’s seed and placed it into him.”
Asher sucked in a breath behind me, her fingers faltering as they deftly styled my hair. I wished I could see her face, especially knowing how much she hated Padon. There were few things in life harder than acknowledging the utter humanity of your enemy.
“My situation was different. There was no build-up, no planning. My father was the previous holder of Sin and Virtue. Unlike most high demons, he loved my mother. Married her, even. High demons don’t usually do that. They mate with as many low demons as possible, producing heir after heir until they find one strong enough to hold the seed. My parents only had me, as my mother simply could not carry another. Luckily for them, I was strong. But that did not stop my mother from falling deeper and deeper into agony with each loss of a youngling. I remember walking in on her sobbing on the floor of her bathroom, blood pouring down her legs as she gripped her swollen stomach. That was the last time she was pregnant. A few months later, she wrote my father and I each a note declaring her love and her wish for us to be happy, then she hung herself from our kitchen rafters.”
Asher gasped behind me. I smiled at the virtue in her heart. Mortals were predictable. Weak. They could be swayed by sad stories and pretty words. It would be pathetic if it weren’t so Eternity damned lovely. I wished I could feel that too.
“My father and I found her together, and I was forced to listen to him begging her to come back to him as he tore her down from the rope. Even worse, he had the audacity to look me in the eye, apologize, and then rip out his seed. In one day I watched both of my parents be buried in our sacred groundsandbecame the high demon of Sin and Virtue.”
The words were not shaky or forced, instead my voice was sharp. Lifeless but for the small hint of fury there. They both left me. Chose someone else over me. My mother, her dead children over her living family, and my father, his lifeless wife over his breathing daughter. I no longer mourned them, though I would defend them to anyone else.
“Did it hurt?” Asher asked as she ripped small sections of my pink blouse. I almost turned to yell at her, but then I felt her use the fabric to tie off my hair. Scoffing, I whipped around, facing her fully. Her eyes were red, but her face was dry. She did not cry for my dead family. Not really. Which was better for us both.
Crossing my arms, I glared up at her.
“The seed will only accept that which is strong enough. It essentially tries to kill whoever takes it and it only accepts the blood of its original owner. It’s why they’re passed down families. So, yes, it hurt like a bitch.” The tension between the two of us seemed to peak as Asher took a step forward, reaching out as if she would console me. Thankfully, Milo saved me from the uncomfortable interaction.
The tiny dragon soared through the air, tackling Asher to the ground and puffing hot breath into her face. She giggled, scratching the beast behind his wing. Torrel had found her new caretaker without trying. The princess adored Milo, and she was more than willing to care for him any time she could. Which meant even Torrel loved her. But I knew the real reason everyone flocked around her like sheep.
“Hi there, little one. Want to go start fires and laugh when Bellamy has a panic attack as he puts them out?” Asher asked, rubbing her nose against Milo’s snout. Then, she seemed to remember something. Her mouth fell open and her eyes widened as she gazed up at me from her place in the grass. “How is Likho? Would Padon hurt him since you mentioned he took a liking to me?”
Eternity spare me, she was so infuriatingly considerate of everyone else. Why couldn’t she just not care like the rest of us? At least Bellamy leaned towards being selfish. It was far more tolerable. Shrugging, I sat down and glanced back at Torrel as she approached, what looked like an entire horse hanging limply from her mouth. The stench of blood tainted the mountain air, festering in the heat of late summer.
Gross.
“Padon is a brute, but he won’t kill a dragon. We were nervous about Torrel, but I doubt he would’ve done anything to her or Milo. It would have been the other dragons that got mine. Padon has a deep respect for their species, just like his mother did. As much of an idiot as he is, that’s one thing he wouldn’t risk or sacrifice,” I admitted, bending down to sit beside Asher.
Milo barely looked back at me, too absorbed with Asher’s doting. Fickle little beast.
