Cynthia had been called to the Grand Chamber at midnight and she was standing in front of the grand doors at the moment. Her heart was dancing erratically in her chest, but it wasn’t a dance of pleasure. This was fear. Immeasurable fear.
Why was she called upon? And that too, in the middle of the night? What was this?
She took a deep breath and signaled for the guards to open the doors. They did and she stepped inside.
As usual, the hall was darkened with only a few torches burning. The Grand Master stood below the raised platform with his hands behind his back. Cynthia wondered why he stood below his stage, and also close to the wall like he was a servant.
“Master,” she acknowledged and bowed her knee.
“No. Not tonight,” the Master whose hand was outstretched to stop her from acknowledging him stated. He glanced at the entrance by the platform and looked back at Cynthia. Then he placed his hands behind his back again.
“Bow, Cynthia,” he ordered and she bowed totally on the floor, facing the stage. She was scared before, but it had been tripled. The Grand Master of The Vrek Cult was the scariest and one of the most dangerous men alive. She had never even seem him casually standing alone before. He had never stepped foot below his platform stage before. But here he stood like a servant awaiting his master.
As Cynthia crouched down there, her face to the ground, she felt a bone chilling cold creep into the hall. Even her Master took in a sharp breath. She could see from the corner of her eyes that he had bowed his head deeply.
The sound of fabric moving against the floor approached and Cynthia felt a dark presence towering over her. She shivered from fear and the chill.
“Is she the one?” a voice like one spoken through a narrow pipe resounded through chamber. The torches flickered as his voice was expelled. His aura spread through everything and it felt like death mixed with despair.
“Yes, Master,” her own master answered.
“Hmm,” the strange man hummed and began to walk towards her from the platform. If Cynthia could turn around and flee for her life, she would. But something told her she would be de-ad in a moment’s breath if she so much as even looked up from her position.
“A soul as fragile and dilapidated as you was sent to accomplish a simple task, and yet you instead opened the cage to free the wanted bird,” he boomed in his vibrating, pipe-like voice. Cynthia shivered, so did the fire from the torches.
“I do not forgive. To every inaction, there is a reaction from me. Let me see your head.”
“Please, Master. Have mercy,” Cynthia cried.
“I said let me see your head!” he boomed and the ground shivered.
Cynthia lifted her shaky head and almost cried out for her mama after seeing him.
He was completely hooded with the blackest of fabric from head to toe. It was like he was clothed from textile weaved directly from the night sky. None of the lights penetrated the area he stood, so apart from the hooded figure, nothing else could be deciphered about him.
He lifted his arm beside him and a black, blade with an obsidian hilt materialized in his hand.
“This will serve as an example to everyone and to this cult, that it is better to not go on a mission at all than to fail a mission ordered by The Baron. I do not accept losses!”
And with that, he took a swift swipe at Cynthia and she screamed so loud the entire cult shook. Across her face, from her right ear to the bottom of her left jaw was sizzling as if burned with an acid.
She fell to the floor as every other part of her body rocked with sizzling pain. But mercifully, everything went blank to spare her the knowledge of the destruction her body was undergoing.
*/*/
It was almost two weeks later before Cynthia was released from the Healers Quarters to finally step outside. It had been the worst days of her life. The hate, fear, anger, and overwhelming urge to murder was just too much for her. The pain from her face was the worst but she was glad it was over. She just wanted to disappear from the godforsaken Healers Quarters she hated so much with all their gut wretching potions and procedures.
They tried their best to make sure she didn’t’t fall apart, but that was all they could do. They couldn’t repair the damage, couldn’t even reduce it. All they could was stop it from going too far. And for that, she was grateful.
She stepped down from the Healers bed after her final checkup and she was freed to go. The first thing she did was to look into the mirror at her new face.
A black, thick, meaty streak now disgraced her face from top right to bottom left. Her nerves which had contact with the scar had blackened and were spread over her face like roots of a tree. Gone was her beauty and grace. She was nothing but like a victim of a virus in a dystopian world.
A young man walked into the room wearing a hoodie and a handkerchief tied stylishly over his head.
“It’s good to see you, Cynthia. I was asked to escort you to the masters. They have news concerning Olive,” he stated. But she was angrily glaring into the mirror.
“I swear, I won’t spare you, Olive. I’ll find you and do worse to you than was done to me,” Cynthia threatened the name and the young man shook his head. Cynthia exhaled deeply and got on her feet then rubbed her palms together.
“You have to move on, Cynthia. Don’t let the hate consume you,” the man advised with care laden in his voice. Cynthia laughed bitterly and looked at him.
“I’m sorry, Jonas. But this hate already consumed me even before Olive found her mate in the Big Bad Alpha,” she stated with a wicked smirk and walked out of the small room. Jonas sighed as she walked past him and out of the room. He rubbed his index and middle finger on his forehead and pinned his lips together tightly. If only Cynthia could just…
“Wait for me, Cynthia,” he called out, stopping himself from delving deep into his thoughts again.
He began to walk out and he dipped his hand into his pocket. He pulled out a black handkerchief and hurried after Cynthia who was already halfway through the facade. The Vrek Cult was situated on a mountain in the forest, away from the civilization. Their buildings were in form of temples and bungalows, all connected together like an ancient Asian palace. Each of the narrow ways had a roof and waist length walls which were jointed with the other narrow ways of other buildings.
Cynthia was presently hurrying through one to head straight to the Grand Building.
“Cynthia, just wait,” Jonas said as he finally reached her. He grabbed her hand and pulled her but she jerked him off and tried to run. He was fast and strong, so he caught her and held her firmly by the shoulders.
“Will you stop?” he angrily stated.
She glared at him and he sighed softly.
“I’m sorry. But you’re really getting on my nerves right now.”
“I really don’t care whether I’m getting on your nerves or literally jumping on them. Just let me go and stay away from me because I’m so venomous right now!” she spat angrily. Jonas stared at her like she was his baby sister who was ranting about a boy he knew would break her heart.
“Cyn, can you please calm down? You’re going too fast for your own pace. You just stepped out from the healers quarters after about two weeks of staying there in pain. And now you’re scarred for life. Can you not take it slow and think about yourself? What would become of you now?”
A slap tore through the air and landed on Jonas’ cheek. This action was accompanied by Cynthia pushing him away, causing him to stagger with half closed eyes.
“Don’t you… ever… dare. Don’t you dare talk to me like that ever in your filthy life!” she yelled at him. Jonas was shocked and had moved several steps backwards.
“What do you know about my life? Who are you to even give me advice on the road if not for the misfortune that has befallen me?”
“Cyn,” he called gently and she shook her head.
Tears fell from her eyes and she wiped them off with her hands.
He saw that she was wearing a strap top and pants only. It was towards the end of winter in Selcece Pack and it was still quite cold. He held the zipper of the dark blue hoodie he was putting on. It was at the top of the chest and divided the front part of the hoodie into two equal parts.
He pulled down on the zipper and opened the thick hoodie. He removed it and brought it over Cynthia’s back.
“Don’t walk around in the cold like that,” he said calmly and draped it on her shoulders. She scoffed quietly and looked away from his face which was just a few inches away from hers. She however pushed her hands into the sleeves and he zipped it up. She was about to wear the hood but he stopped her with his hands.
“Wait, you didn’t think you would go around with that scar on your face, did you?”
He straightened the black handkerchief he brought out earlier then folded it into a triangular half.
“What are you doing?” she questioned with a frown but he just smiled. He came forward and laid the hankie over her face, just below her eyes then tied it at the back of her head. Then he wore the hood for her.
“There. Better,” he chimed and she pursed her lips behind the mask. What he just did was thoughtful. She didn’t think of it because she was so angry and eager to quickly hear what the masters had to say about Olive.
“Thank you,” she said and he nodded.
“Let us go,” Jonas stated and they walked away together. The other members of the cult were going about their businesses but everyone wanted to glance at Cynthia’s face. But she dipped her head lower and hurried along, leaving the other members no other choice but to start the gossips about what damage was fully caused her.