Flesh and Blood

The child is cloaked in a navy velvet shirt, his onyx locks of hair falling just below his ears, and those hazel eyes staring right back at me as he walks by in the hallway made of white stone. A hint of mischief in his eyes coaxes me to follow the child no older than seven, his footsteps light upon the marble floor as he leads me down a hallway filled with grand paintings of wars both bloody and victorious. Wolfs are painted upon the canvases which are framed in golden frames of great detail, men and beast portrayed with detail as they tear one another apart. Looking around the rest of the hallway, I spot an endless hallway from where I came from, paintings lining the walls, and before me lies the opening to a grand hall where, in the center, lies steps leading to a throne placed before a tall window as moonlight floods into the room.

The boy rushes into the hall, racing towards the throne as he takes a seat upon the chair, surveying all which the throne overlooks from the view. Banners are hung from the tall ceiling of navy and silver colors, the ceiling painted with dark colors depicting a night sky as the clouds are where a woman cloaked in a white gown holds the moon in her hands. I glance towards the child, seeing him playfully running his fingers along the armrests as I begin to walk towards him, as if caught in some sort of glance.

"Do I know you?" I ask the child, walking up the steps of the throne as I try and recall how I got here. "I am sorry, but I am not sure how I got here or who you are," I confess, kneeling down to the boy's height as he crosses his legs and stares back at me.

"River, there you are!" A familiar voice calls out, pulling my attention away from the child as I look over my shoulder to spot Zion standing at the entrance of the hall with his hands clasped behind his back. Wearing royal robes of navy velvet which trails behind him with white fur along the trim and a royal crest pinned to the material of his shirt, I know I am seeing Zion before he renounced the throne and gave into a darker magic. "What are you doing here?"

"I-I do not know-"

"I wasn't tired," River replies, hopping off the throne as he walks over to Zion. Zion cannot see me, as if I am invisible to him. River looks back to me briefly before joining his hand in his father's as Zion leads him down another hallway.

I follow the two of them, wondering if I am in a dream as we pass by balconies of the palace which overlooks a lake which boarders the palace. Zion leads his son into a circular room with chairs forming around a center stage as the royal crest is placed in marble in the floor. A second floor of the room is a viewing gallery, the door to the room thick as I wonder what this place is. As I take another step forward, my foot feels wet. Looking down, a pool of blood lies under my foot, causing me to gasp and stumble backwards as I see the woman lying in the ground where the blood flows from.

A bullet hole is placed right between her eyes, her hazel eyes lifeless as she stares up at the ceiling, the white wedding gown she wears tainted with blood as her crown rolls away and to the small feet of River. I stare back at my lifeless body, unable to speak as I stare at my dead body. Zion picks up my royal crown, handing it to River as River looks over to me. "She was one hell of a woman, your mother," Zion comments, placing a hand on River's shoulder. "She endured so much pain and came out strong until the very end."

One hell of a woman...those words sound so familiar, but not to describe me.

"Lillian could never have compared to her."

Lillian Rice, I remember her name, the true mate of Zion who was also the mate of Nixon Maxwell. She made her choice and Nixon made his as did Zion. It was a love triangle of blood and horror which haunted Zion.

"We both lost our mates, your mother and I."

Sebastian and Lillian. We both had mates, both taken from us.

Decapitated. Sebastian was decapitated before my very eyes as Alphas from all over Zion's kingdom watched in horror. Lillian was murdered in her home by Nixon no doubt and Zion could never forgive Nixon as he never received justice. Life is not ours to give and take, and these people took so many lives.

"Sybil."

I look to Zion, yet it is not this version of Zion who calls out to me, but a voice in the distant as I feel myself slipping away. The floor falls out from under me as I begin to fall, the dress I wear tearing off until I am wearing a simple gown made of lavender fabric, my brunette locks a mess as the wind rushes around me. As I fall, I soon meet the ground of a soft material, my eyes shooting open as I look to see Zion and Keva looking down at me as the sunrise blinds me.

Closing my eyes, my entire body aches, my brain pounding in my skull, and my fingers hurt to move as I feel a pair of callused hands placed upon my shoulders give me a soft squeeze. "Sybil, please tell me something worked from the stardust." I groan, turning onto my side as I want to puke, my body ill as I hear my joints pop. Peeling my eyelids open, I gain a view of my wrists as I see the black and fresh bruises paired with cuts dug into my palms as my nails have dried blood under them. Zion places a hand over my forehead, brushing back stray hairs as he turns my head to gaze into his eyes. "Do you remember?"

"I saw our son," I whisper, my head unable to lift up as Keva brings me a glass of water. My throat is dry, lips cracked as the water burns the cuts upon my lower lip.

"She had a dream of some sort," Keva comments, placing a hand on Zion's shoulder. "We should let her rest and regain her strength."

Zion gets to his feet, shaking his head as he looks down to me. "What was our son's name?" He asks, watching as my eyes close softly as I try and focus on the warmth of the sunlight across my skin. "Sybil?"

"Ask her when she has rested," Keva exclaims.

"Sybil, what was his name?" His voice is desperate, longing for an answer as I try and focus on my breathing, the comfort of the mattress, and the aches of my body.

"River."

Silence fills the room as I let my body become soaked into the mattress. "She remembers. We wanted to name our son River." I fade away into slumber as I feel Zion call out my name once more.

<><>

My fingers brush over the lavender dress, the silk organza fabric soft to the touch as I look at the woman before me in the mirror. Hazel eyes stare back at me, no longer lifeless like the woman I saw on the marble floor laying within a pool of blood. Pulling my hair back, the brunette locks fall almost to the waist with a gentle curl, my fingers running along the sleeves as I glance to the bruises upon my wrists. Taking in a deep breath, I glance away from the mirror and towards the balcony of my bedroom, the soft colors of the sky on display as clouds are sprinkled out across the horizon.

"You seem to enjoy the realm here," a familiar voice comments, Keva walking over to stand beside me as I rest my hands upon the balcony railing. "It is one which offers a sense of eternal peace."

"It's beautiful here," I whisper, glancing to the main part of the village where elves walk around, chatting with one another as I watch from afar, wondering what it is like to live for so many centuries. "It reminds me of your own realm next to the palace in the woods."

"You know this realm cannot accept your presence here for longer than-"

"I know the elves here believe I am tainted with darkness because Fiona used dark magic to bring me back." Looking to Keva, I wish she could tell me I could stay here forever. "I do not want to leave with him."

"Why?" Keva asks, holding a gentle gaze. "You remember much of your past life, this is what you have wanted and what Zion has been searching for."

"If I remember parts of our story, then where do we go from here?" I am scared to leave here, to go with Zion out of this sanctuary and venture out into the world. "Am I still the same woman who fell in love with the man who took me in when I was a rogue, who killed my mate, who made me feel like a prisoner for a time, and then made me feel emotions of love, desire, and joy? He married a different woman it feels like and I feel like I am just a container of that woman, just holding her memories."

"If you always worry about these things, then you will never allow life the chance to show you and allow you to experience what Zion made you feel." Dainty fingers rest upon my cheek, eyes gazing into mine as I know Keva is right. "Being so naive and constantly second-guessing yourself will only keep you the container of the woman you fear you have become."

"He won't even talk to me," I comment, thinking back to this morning when I woke up after my rest only for Zion to leave the room, unable to speak to me, as if afraid or in shock. "How am I to leave with Zion when he hasn't spoken to me since I recalled the name of our unborn child?"

Keva offers me a soft smile, shaking her head. "He will come around, he is just needing space. Trust me, Sybil, for I have known Zion since he was a week old."

"I was to give my child to your protection as part of the deal we made in the war," I recall, leaning against the balcony as I think back to the moment I got Keva and her kin to agree to joining the war. "My child was to bear the mark of your kin and to be trained by your kin for four months after his fifteenth birthday. Is this why you still help Zion out, because you are still promised a child in return for the men and woman you sent onto the bloody battlefield?"

The air becomes tense as I know I have struck a nerve with Keva. I am right by her reaction, seeing the swirl of lavender in her eyes turn a darker shade, almost violet, and her jaw clench. "The deal we made was signed under a royal and honest oath," Keva begins, looking out to the horizon, "I am still promised a child of your blood."

Nodding, I take in a deep breath as I know what that means for Zion and I. For Zion and I to have a child for Keva to have, I must rekindle the desire I once felt for Zion, be in a place comfortable enough for me to become vulnerable and intimate with this man. I have seen how vows which are not kept by both parties can damage lives, for Zion still has yet to lift the curse of Fiona's coven, but he will now, for I remember. "I intend to fulfill that promise," I inform Keva, looking to the elf as I straighten my posture. "Going back on my word is something I do not intend to do. I promised you my flesh and blood to bear the mark of your kin and you shall receive that."

"Even before you became a stronger woman within the walls of the palace, I always knew you would not be tainted by the sins of the palace, for many men have gone back on their word. You have always kept your word, Sybil, and for that I always respected you as the woman who wore the crown."

Keva leaves me alone as the day becomes evening, my body tired still from the night before as I take a seat upon the bed and look to the stars beginning to shine in the skin ever so slightly. Fiona brought me back to lift a curse on her coven, Keva helped me retrieve memories because I still promise her a child, and Zion brought me back because I was the love of his life. Everyone playing this game has cards to play, but I do not intend to be some game forever. Zion will lift the curse on Fiona's coven and we will provide Keva will our child to bear the mark of her people, thus taking out two players, and then it will be Zion and I playing the game just like we did in my past life. But a king needs his crown and Zion left his behind...will he return back and expect me to wear the crown again after these years of the kingdom believing I have been dead?

"One step at a time," I whisper to myself, laying down on the bed as I relax, knowing what I must do next.