The Blood of Kings

The Blood of Kings

One man's Inferno is another man's Paradiso.

Chapter 1 by JackOLantern JackOLantern

It all began when you found that strange book. You were walking home from work when you decided to take a shortcut you had never thought to take before. The shortcut took you through a grassy field that you often passed by but never thought anything of. As you walked through something caught your eye lying in the grass.

It was a book, or perhaps “tome” would have been more appropriate. The cover was wrapped in some kind of very old red leather that felt warm to the touch. The book had a framing of genuine metal, though you weren’t quite sure what kind of metal it was, either way it seemed durable, and its dark finish blended with the red leather to create an ominous feel. The cover had no label, and instead only had a golden imprint of some kind of runic circle with a seven-pointed star in the center that reminded you of something you’d see in a fantasy game or movie. This circle only contributed to the tome’s mounting ominous feeling.

After spending some time looking through the field to see if it belonged to anyone, you decided to take it home with you. You can’t say that you felt this decision was entirely yours, you just did it, and didn’t think anything of it until it was already in your home, resting on your desk. Truth be told, the tome scared you. You had never put much stock in the existence of the supernatural, but this book had an ominous feeling that you couldn’t ignore.

But ignore you tried. For the first few days it was in your posession you tried to go about your normal life. Emphasis on “tried”. The book was always in the back of your mind, and you couldn’t stop thinking about it. You lost sleep wondering what was written inside but you were too scared to peer within.

Eventually, however, your curiosity won. One night you sat up from your sleepless rest, and grabbed the book from your desk and placed it on your lap as you sat on the side of your bed. Five minutes passed as you stared at the cover. Ten. Thirty. Finally, after an hour of truly contemplating what you were about to do, you cracked open the cover to the first dusty page.

The parchment was strange, and something you had never seen or felt before. It had a certain rugged smoothness that was difficult to describe, and you couldn’t deny after opening the book at last that you could smell a distinct fusion of mold and the warm, coppery scent of blood. There were very distinct and patterned runes in the very center of the page in a red script that you hoped was not blood. You did not recognize the language, in fact you didn’t even think it was a real language.

And yet…

You knew what the runic passage read.

You who should find this ancient tome, know that you were destined to find it. For the tome did not call for you, your blood called for the tome. If this tome should find its way into your hands, you have been blessed with the blood of kings.

Peer through the pages of this book, o king, so that your blood may restore itself to the glory it yearns for. Even if your mind does not understand what is written within, your blood does. Trust in your blood, o king; trust in your instincts and you will be granted a luxurious kingdom that your world could never hope to grant.

Without even giving yourself time to comprehend what you just read, or even comprehend that you were able to read it in the first place, you began to flip through the pages of the book. More of that strange writing covered each page. There were diagrams and drawings along with what looked like intricate instructions. Stranger still, none of the instructions had titles or categories, so you had no idea what any of the instructions were for.

At last you stopped on one of the pages. You weren’t sure why, but you were drawn to this page. As far as you could tell it was just like all the others, just a list of various items to be gathered and detailed instructions. You felt the strong urge to follow those instructions. As you glanced over the list of items needed, you realized that a few of them could be found in your very apartment…


One month later…

You finally did it. A lot of the items the book asked for were incredibly difficult to get your hands on, but you managed to do everything the book instructed. You look at the white chalk markings drawn on your floor, all of the remaining items surrounding the runic circle. You stare at it and… nothing happens.

Confused, you reach for the book, positive you had managed to complete each step perfectly.

Did I miss something? You wonder as you open the book to the page you know the instructions were on. The page is blank. Your mind takes a few moments to process what it’s seeing, you begin to question your sanity as you were certain there was a list of instructions and materials on this page. Just as you were about to throw the book in frustration suddenly something appears on the blank page. The runic letters fade into view, almost as if someone had dripped blood onto the page and it happened to take the exact shape of each rune.

Read aloud the following: “I hereby summon thee, Silquintis Ral'Azurah. Your soul shall be forever bound to mine, with this blood serving as our eternal contract.” After reciting this phrase, drip your own blood in the center of the circle to complete the ritual.

This final step looks fairly shady. Half of your mind thinks that nothing will happen and this was all just a waste of time; the other half thinks that something really bad will happen. You peer around your room for a moment, seriously contemplating what you have been doing for the past month. You consider your options carefully. Your body screams for you to complete this ritual, but your mind isn’t convinced yet.

You spend the next hour thinking, examining your life as it was, as it is, and as it will be. At last you come to two conclusions. Firstly, all things considered you have been relatively lucky. You don’t like your job much, but it pays well and offers good benefits. You’re single but don’t feel particularly lonely. You’ve never even had to go to the hospital for anything serious before. This brings you to your second conclusion. Even if by some chance this is a bad idea, and your life ends tonight, you don’t really have anything to lose. There are some close family members who would be sad to hear of your , but they would move on. Your life hasn’t been particularly fulfilling, but you suppose that’s just how the world works. You think back to the introductory passage of the book.

“‘A luxurious kingdom your world could never hope to grant’, huh?” you roll the phrase out on your tongue a few times, seeing how it sounds. Sounds too good to be true, one hell of a gamble.

Silence.

“Fuck it.” You stand up and recite the words out loud, “‘I hereby summon thee, Silquintis Ral'Azurah. Your soul shall be forever bound to mine, with this blood serving as our eternal contract.’”

Without giving yourself the opportunity to have second thoughts, you grab a nearby knife that the ritual called for and you cut your palm. The sharp sting of the wound sets your mind on fire for a moment. But eventually your thoughts clear and your grip your hand into a fist, wringing a few drops of blood down onto the wooden floor.

For a moment all you hear is a faint humming, then you see the chalk markings begin to glow a fiery amber. Your instincts scream to get out of the way and your body clumsily obeys, flinging itself backward until your back is against the side of your bed. Just in time too, the moment your back smacks against the wooden frame of your bed a gigantic pillar of flame blazes out of the floor, reaching up to your ceiling.

Your eyes eventually adjust to the sudden light in your otherwise dark room and you peer into the flaming pillar, noting that there is something inside, something moving. Before you can try to work out what it is, a pair of black, leathery wings shoot out from the flame and flap themselves, sending a gust of wind through the room and extinguishing the flame in mere seconds.

Fear finally starts to kick in. You were lucky your whole damn life, of course your luck was going to come back full circle sooner or later. This is the end; this is where you die. You took a gamble, and you lost. Your eyes are shut tight, and you aren’t even sure when you shut them, but you are far too afraid to open them again. You don’t want to know what kind of eldritch horror you summoned into this world. You’ve read Lovecraft, you know how this song and dance goes.

You hear the sound of a footstep, though the step has a very distinctive sound to it. You’ve heard something similar before but are still too afraid to open your eyes and confirm. You are vaguely aware that you are whimpering. You hear another footstep. You aren’t sure if whatever is in your room is walking extremely slowly to increase the fear or if your adrenaline is just making time feel slower. Either way, it’s working. Another footstep. Unless it was taking baby steps it must be right in front of you now.

You completely lose your cool. “Please don’t kill me! I’ll do anything I swear!” your voice is louder than you intended, and much shakier. You are vaguely aware that tears are streaming down your cheeks. The response you get from the thing is… giggling? It giggled, kind of a feminine giggle too.

“Don’t be afraid,” it’s definitely a female voice, one that is deep and silken. Sultry but thoughtful, “if it were my intention to kill you, you’d already be dead, mortal. Please open your eyes, gaze upon your new servant.” Servant? Did you hear that right?

You hesitate a moment, but reluctantly begin to open your eyes. The first thing you see is the reason you recognized the distinct sound of the footsteps. Heels. Your head slowly lifts upward to view the rest of your room’s intruder.

She has bright, gleaming silver eyes with black sclera, the likes of which stand out among all of her features as they peer at you coolly. Her skin is alabaster, nearly white. Her right arm and leg are covered with swirling, black patterns that resemble tattoos but that you swear are moving across her skin. Her skin is also very much on show, she appears to only be wearing a black, leather thong, black heeled shoes, and a strange black cloth scarf that appears to be moving on its own, coiled around her neck and arms like a snake. The metal clasps that hold the material together on her scant clothing shine the same hue as the bindings on the book you found. Her hair is long, back, and wavy, draped down over her shoulders and chest but stopping just shy of her nipples which are a shade darker and slightly more pink than the rest of her skin and sit upon rather sizeable breasts. Through a pair of plump, black lips a pink tongue emerges and runs itself along them slowly. A pair of grey horns juts out from the top of her head, curling back and around similar to a ram’s horns, and a pair of black, leathery wings are folded at her back. You think you see the distinct swishes of a tail behind her, but the room is too dark to see it clearly.

“Enjoying the view?” She asks in her sultry tone, snapping your eyes back to her face. You are finding it difficult to find words after such a roller-coaster of emotions. Almost as if she can read your mind, she continues. “Why don’t we start with your name, darling?”

"Uh, Jayden."

Jayden hmm?” She looks as if she is rolling the name around her tongue, like she is seeing how it tastes in her mouth. “Well, I’m sure you already know this, but my name is Silquintis Ral'Azurah, though as your servant you are free to call me whatever you please. It is an honor to meet you.” She does a small curtsy and smiles warmly. You are already starting to get more comfortable with her presence.

“I’m a bit more concerned with the what than the who.” You say, your voice still a little shaky, gesturing your finger toward her horns and wings. With some effort you manage to hoist yourself up to sit on the edge of your bed.

Silquintis seems genuinely puzzled by this statement. “You’re the one that summoned and bound me, no? How do you not know what I am?”

“I didn’t really understand what I was doing. I found that book over there,” you gesture in the general direction of the book, “and it had instructions for me to follow. My brain was just… on auto-pilot I guess, my body did everything.”

Silquintis' eyes visibly narrow as she peers over at the book, lying open on the ground nearby. She leans down to pick it up, as she does you note that the pages are once again blank, and once the book is up in her hands she notices this too and gives you a confused look. Without commenting at all, she flips the book over to reveal its cover. When she sees it her eyes widen for a moment. “This is…” her voice trails off as she looks at you, then at your still-bleeding hand.

“May I see your hand?” she walks back toward you and holds out her own hands. You notice that her fingernails are black, though you aren’t sure if they are painted that way or naturally that color. You then wonder the same about her lips as she takes your hand and runs a finger along the wound. Your hand twitches reflexively as the finger touches it, but she simply brings the finger up to her lips and licks it, pausing for a moment with her eyes closed, seeming to examine the taste thoroughly.

After a moment her eyes shoot back open. “Oh… oh my.” You swear she almost moaned that. “I see what’s going on here.” Without wasting another moment, she swiftly and rather gracefully kneels down on one knee in front of you, her head bowed down low. “My apologies my liege, I had no idea.”

“What?” is all you can manage to say in response.

She stands back up again, and her face is slightly more serious. “I was positive that the line had been broken. Whoever had it last was clever, to have hidden it inside a human…” She seems to be saying all this mostly to herself before she notices the dumbfounded look that your face must have. “This may take some explaining, please bear with me. May I sit down?”

May she?

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