R.B. Holbrook's Blog, page 16

The Quiet Critic 1

Demon: “Well?”

Angel: “What do you think about our short story?”

Rb: “Hmmm. It seems you got some positive feedback.”

Demon: “Damn straight! Cause I’m awesome!”

Angel: “Or just cocky. That’s all great Rb, I’m glad there are some people who enjoyed our story, but what did you think.”

Rb: “And because you got such good feedback, I’m adding it to the website permanently with its very own page.”

Demon: “Hell yeah!”

Angel: “Wow! Thank you! But what did you think about it?”

Demon: “Does it matter? It gets its own page! Plus, my part was perfect so Rb wouldn’t have any problems with my scenes.”

Rb: smirks before saying, “Well, I have my own writing to get back to so-”

Demon: “Hold the damn phone! What was wrong with my part?! Cough it up dammit!”

Rb: “You both know I don’t like to critique other people’s art. Artists/writers are sensitive about their work.”

Angel: “Yes, but we’re asking for your opinion.”

Rb: “My writing isn’t perfect so I‘m the last person who should give advice or critiques on-”

Demon: “Cut the bullshit and start talking.”

RbH

Filed under: Angel vs. Demon Blog Tagged: Angel vs. Demon, critique, R B Holbrook, story, writing

Sipping Tea w/ the Ex-Assassin and the Tyrant Part 9 [END]

Rb: “Wait… There is only one page left of your story. Is this the end?”

Angel: “Sadly, yes.”

Demon: “The end sucks so you can just skip it.”

Rb: “If that’s the case then I’m going to read it.”

Demon: “Does my opinion count for nothing?”

Angel: “It seems… no.”

____________

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT PART 9 [END]

There was the slightest of breezes. That trickle of air hurt his skin while Mecten laid panting, needle stabs of pain shooting all over his body.

Some way, somehow, even with no strength or energy, his head lifted. Or was it being lifted?

Something bitter and wet touched his lips, caressed his tongue, and tickled his throat. He coughed.

“Awake finally? Good drink this.” A voice in the distance said.

When something hard and cold touched his lips, he took an agonizing sip.

“I’ve seen you drink more than that in one go. Gulp like you usually do.”

He knew that voice. No…wait. Wasn’t he dead? Maybe he was dreaming.

“Mec, open your mouth and drink.” The pleasant voice issued a command.

With all the strength he didn’t know existed, he let his mouth and throat do the work. He gulped long hard mouthfuls that burned his throat.

“That’s my boy! Drink up!”

Encouragement urged him to drink more until he was slurping air.

Her soft chuckle almost made him forget why he should be trying to kill her. “Was it good?” She asked.

Blinking, he focused eyes that were beginning to see. Clarity blew away the fog in his mind while the pain in his body cooled and calmed. He shook his head ‘no’.

“What did it taste like?” Tralie’s face came into his direct view as she leaned over his splayed form donning her ever present smile.

He croaked, “Yalu Brew?”

“That bad huh?”

He nodded before asking, “What was it?” But he knew in his heart what before she answered.

“Healing Tea of Light. Potent stuff. I wish I could serve up some of that elixir in my tavern. You look ten times better than you did before you left. All your scars are gone. You’re a hundred years younger. Very impressive.”

He sat up so abruptly his head decided to go swimming.

“Easy big guy.” Tralie’s light tone bordered on singing.

“How…?” Looking around the main Temple’s sanctuary, the cold stone under his bare skin reminded him of the burns he had sustained on the verge of death. Though his clothes had been burned away, his skin was clear, smooth just as Tralie had said.

“You…” He took in a deep breath. “You got to the tea?”

“Yep. I figured you might get yourself seriously hurt because of me. Couldn’t live with that.”

“Even if I want you dead.”

“Yes.” Her smile was pleasing, but those wide eyes held sadness. She turned away reaching behind him, when his hands shot out and grabbed her narrow throat. She didn’t flinch or try to protect herself as her head remained immobile.

“Why?” He asked, squeezing.

Keeping her grin, she didn’t look the least bit uncomfortable with the pressure on her throat. “Why didn’t I tell you? Why did I kill Sherris? Why did I let you come here knowing you would find out the truth? Why did I-”

“I know why you killed her,” Because his heart wouldn’t allow it. His feelings for Sherris were blinding. “I know why you didn’t tell me.” He would have never admitted that Sherris betrayed him, even if Tralie was the one who told him. Even if Sherris came to him herself and confessed… Damn, he was such a fool. That’s what hurt the most. “I know why you sent me here knowing I would find out everything.” The truth needed to kick him, beat him, and burn him awake from his delusioned hopes. “Why did you save me, knowing I could kill you?”

Her face never changed as he stared at the side view. With that smile, the slightest touch of blush peeked on her cheeks that abruptly silenced any further questions on his tongue.

His thumb rubbed soft skin close to her ear as her head slowly turned to stare into his eyes, a longing in them he wasn’t sure he wanted to understand. The quiet was too uncomfortable for words, especially with him being stark naked in front of her. Why was he so aware of her now?

Lifting her hand, she presented him a blood stained white robe, probably from one of the dead priests. “Either kill me, Mec, or get dressed so we can leave.”

His grip loosened, his eyes drifted to her lips. “I gave up killing, remember?”

That laugh of hers was a melody lifting the weight of his soul. “You should have told the queen that.”

“Maybe later,” He said watching the joy in her face.

She laughed harder.

Mecten stood up slowly, and took the robe before slipping the garment over his head. “Do you think the Temple will recover from this?” He asked letting the cloth drop to his feet.

Tralie nodded looking up at him with daring affection. “Of course. The Temple is like us: impossible to kill.” She hopped to her feet, before slinging a rifle over her shoulder. “Speaking of kill, are you sure you want to retire from it all… I mean, you’re legendary. Plus, you make a great story for my customers, Mec.” Her pointed ears gave the slightest twitch, indicating her excitement. “And you bet I’m going to tell everyone how you took down the mighty Queen Angelus.”

Chuckling, he shook his head. “Come on, Tralie, let’s go home.”

RbH

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 1

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 2

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 3

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 4

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 5

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 6

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 7

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 8

Filed under: Angel vs. Demon Blog Tagged: Angel vs. Demon, elf, fairy, fantasy, queen, R B Holbrook, short story, Sipping Tea with the Ex-Assassin and the Tyrant, writing

Sipping Tea w/ the Ex-Assassin and the Tyrant Part 8

Rb: looking up from the paper says, “Did I just read…? Wait… The skull… The queen is in love… Angel you allowed-”

Angel: “I know! I know!”

Demon: “Great isn’t it! Lust, envy, greed, and the forbidden. LOVE IT!!”

Rb: “Angel, I’m surprised you let him have his way.”

Angel: “I tried so hard to stop it but trust me when I say this is the best compromise compared to what he wanted to write.”

Rb: “You mean it could have been worse?”

Angel: “Sooooo much worse.”

Demon: “Better! It would have made the story better. I was thinking of putting in a graphic sex scene with-”

Rb: “I’m just going to continue reading.”

Angel: “Yes, please.”

________

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT PART 8

Angelus hit the ground so hard, her teeth rattled. Groaning, she tried to pull herself together.

“You’re a sick bitch. You… and your sister.” That bastard said with a death note in his tone. His wrists jerked apart ripping free of the rope before landing on solid ground. He didn’t even note the rope burns on his hands.

He was a seasoned assassin, able to kill without a second thought and only think of it as a job. If she didn’t get to her feet, he would kill her before she had a chance to roast him in flame.

“Protect the queen!” Her soldier’s rallied, going for the assassin before she could give the order. Dragging her body up off the ground, she wiped her face of dirt.

Find the tea maker. Lord Demonis’ voice echoed into her head. Grab your sister’s skull and find the tea maker.

“Yes, my lord.” She whispered, scrambled for the skull scooping it into her embrace.

Her eyes caught sight of the guards falling easily to the assassin’s blows. In a way she had never seen before, he tore the wings off of two of her soldiers, seperating the faery from its source of magic. The action rendered them helpless to his killing attack. After snapping their necks, the assassin grabbed the newly dead’s weapons as their bodies fell. His speed, strength, grace, and cruelty was something to purr over if he wasn’t keen on killing her. As her remaining guards threw themselves at the killer, she ran.

She wouldn’t let that filth put his hands on her. Dashing from tattered room to room, she found several of her soldiers questioning the withering tea maker weaving on a wooden block of some kind.

“You three, go help my soldiers contain the situation.” She ordered before turning to the captain. “What have you found out?” She asked looking over her shoulder for any signs of pursuit.

“He’s talking gibberish.” The captain said, “He knows he’s about to die. Something about the tea sustained him for thousands of years, but he can’t use it anymore.”

“Hold. The tea allowed him to stay alive for thousands of years?” She asked.

“Yes, it can stop aging. Though forbidden, it can also cure death.”

Cure death! Angelus looked down at her sister’s skull. The most beautiful part of Angelus was Sherris. The older sister was her protector from their father’s habits and their mother’s neglect. Guiding Angelus like a beacon of light, Sherris was the one who taught her everything the queen needed to rule. Seperating from Sherris broke her heart, deepening the longing she always craved. Now there was a chance to have her wishes fulfilled and truly possess Sherris.

“Curing death will destroy the balance between Light and Dark, he called it a sacrilegious act.”

That’s how she would desecrate the ceremony. Perfect. “Then where is the tea?” She barked knowing time was wearing.

“Someone already claimed it.”

“What?! Who?” She squawked.

Before her captain could speak, a dagger stabbed him right between the eyes. She turned, throwing a wall of fire between her and the assassin stomping toward her. Death reflected in those eyes, cold, emotionless, and brutal, making her fear for the first time in years.

The wall didn’t stop him. Jumping, propelling himself, he spun a flip over the fire and landed beside her. She screamed in shock and disgust, throwing balls of flames as she backed up.

He dodged, kicking out a leg, but she jumped away.

More guards came up behind her, “Attack!” She ordered excitement racing through her blood. She’d never been as hot and turned on as she was in that instant. With death so close to her, she felt alive.

“Oh, I see why my sister chose you.” She licked her lips, admiring his strong build. Pulling her arm back, she released a whip of fire that swung out, slicing though two of her guards and slashed him across the chest.

He grunted, stumbling back. She squealed in delight, as she released another strike, crackling through the air. It hit the remaining soldiers before whipping him in the arm sizzling skin.

His other hand shot out, dagger flying. It was too fast for her to dodge, stabbing her in the gut. The strength of the blow made her fall back, dropping her precious sister.

Writhing in pain, she groaned, sitting up just in time to see the most horrific sight.

The assassin raised his leg, “Give Sherris a message: I’m done with her.” He said with extreme hate before stomping, boot crushing the last remains of her sister.

“Noooooooo!” Her fury and utter sorrow flamed, blazing red-hot, hotter, even hotter, until blue, fanning through the entire ruins consuming them both and all her guards. His screams were music, a symphony that combined beautifully with her violent wail of agony.

At least now she could be with her beloved for eternity.

RbH

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 1

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 2

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 3

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 4

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 5

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 6

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 7

Filed under: Angel vs. Demon Blog Tagged: Angel vs. Demon, elf, fairy, fantasy, queen, R B Holbrook, short story, writing

Sipping Tea w/ the Ex-Assassin and the Tyrant Part 7

Rb: “I’m noticing a pattern here in your story…”

Angel: “Pattern? What pattern?”

Rb: “Well, I’m not sure but…”

Demon: “Hell, don’t leave me in suspense.”

Rb: “Ok. The way you two wrote it… Nevermind, I’ll wait until the end of the story to tell you.”

Angel: “Wait, you’re just going to leave us hanging?”

Demon: “You did that shit on purpose, didn’t you?”

Rb: “Huh? What? Sorry, I’m in the middle of reading…”

__________

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT PART 7

Feeling his jaw throb, Mecten stared at a younger version of Sherris. A crueller, angrier, evil face of a female faery that could kill him with any blink of her eyes. One of her hands was fisted, ready to strike him again while held up in the palm of the other hand was a skull that shimmered an odd glow. Her low-cut red and black dress reveled more than it covered as she stood in tall black spiked heels, a black fur cloak draping her shoulders.

“I cannot believe this is the male you choose to lay with, my love.” He flinched when she spat in his face. “You should choose your victims more wisely.”

“Where is Sherris?” He asked carefully, not to incite more of her wrath.

The woman cackled a laugh before holding the skull high. “He wants to know where you are! You said he loved you, he’d do anything for you, and yet he doesn’t even recognize you.”

His breath ceased in shock and his eyes widened on the skull. “No-“

“Yes!” She backhanded him again. The metal taste of blood stung his tongue. “Fool! To think you soiled my beloved sister and have the nerve to not even acknowledge her. My only love and this unworthy whore touched her!”

The skull…no. She was dead? No! How? When? “I loved her.”

“I loved her,” Angelus mocked before howling a laugh. Her hand drew back, this time swirling with fire, and releasing a wave of pain on his face that promise to burn through skin. “My sister, my love… she was all I cared about, all I dream about and you allowed this to happen to her, ripping her flesh out of my life.” A tear trickled down that beautifully evil face. “Flesh only I was meant to savor.” She caressed the top curve of Sherris’s skull. “But I have what is left, what you will never have – her brilliance and heart.” With crazed eyes, the queen stroked the skull, petting it as if it were sacred. “After she killed father, she left the kingdom to me.

“Sh-she killed the king? I though you-”

“Fool! Of course she killed him.” The female snapped. “Sherris killed that bastard in his sleep, mother too. But to gain sympathy and allies, she had to spread that she was the victim and it worked didn’t it? Got a slutty dog following her around. It was all a part of her grand plan. How could we rule a perfect empire and over throw the Temple’s regime when mother and father both served the rules of the Temple?”

“Over throw the Temple? That’s impossible.”  The Temple ruled the world since the beginning of time.

A wicked giggle rippled through the air. “Not impossible for my brilliant Sherris. You just needed the right information and the right tools – assassinate the right targets, plant the right thoughts, persuade the right influences and gather the right power. She almost had it all perfect; all that was needed was some information about some very powerful artifacts. For that she needed the best information dealer in the world, but that damned elf had tight lips.” The best information dealer? Elf? There was only one information dealer in the world he could imagine being the best: Tralie.

No!

“She couldn’t get that bitch elf to spill where most of the powerful artifacts were. As cunning and graceful as my sister was, she couldn’t get that selfish bitch to divulge anything, so she had to lower herself to lay with you! Filthy shit!” She spat on him again. He shuddered when it hit him in the eyes. His hands twitched, wrists rubbing against the ropes.

Angelus lied! Sherris loved him. She loved him! She would never, “She loved me. She hired me to rescue you when she thought you were in trouble. She… she.”

“A ploy you damn dimwit! To get into your head,” Her finger prodded into his forehead, jamming between his eyebrows, “she had to convince you, wallow among your kind, sell pity to any who would swallow it.”

As the queen went on and on, Mecten fought through the fog of confusion and internal pain of hearing…hearing… I am such a fool. He thought, slowly raising his body using his wrists to take the weight, testing the rope’s strength and anchor.

“Cuddling with you got her foot in the door. Your name seemed to bring all the respect she needed especially from scum and that elf. If took years of patience on my part not to hunt her down, kill you, and bring her home with me where she belonged.” She held up the skull in Mecten’s face. “She had finally gotten close to the answers, finally learning the secrets of our enemies, of the weaknesses of the most powerful kingdoms in all the lands. Oh, yes, your little elf knew much, even knew all about the Healing Tea of Light. But that bitch was too smart. Sherris had to escape when that damn elf started catching on. A year and a half ago, my love was coming home, she was coming back to rule on her rightful throne beside me. Until that nasty bitch severed my sister’s head from her body. Your pet elf took away my sister’s flesh! She had no right!”

A year and a half ago… As much as it hurt to hear, everything was starting to make since. But Tralie…? Tralie knew? Tralie killed Sherris? No.

The queen screamed an agonizing scream, as she stretched out as if having a tantrum. “My love, I’ll never be able to touch your skin or hair again. I waited just as you asked and yet I’ll never be able to touch those lips that should have been mine!“

She cried feverishly, as Mecten’s heart broke for a different reason. Even in her madness, Angelus spoke a truth that burned him in ways he had never felt. A betrayal he couldn’t fathom came from such a kind, and caring fake, “…maybe there is more to why she left.” Tralie’s word played in his mind, over and over as a darkness awoke within. Tralie knew and never said anything. Her betrayal stabbed him deeper and more powerful that realizing Sherris used him.

Tralie, his most trusted confidant, stayed silent about all of it.

Instinct rose, clicking his training into place and shutting down emotions. There was no betrayal, no love, no hurt, no friends. His nature roared free as did his body. His legs kicked out, booted feet slamming into the queen’s face. The skull toppled to the ground as the queen flew backward.

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 1

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 2

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 3

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 4

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 5

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 6

RbH

Filed under: Angel vs. Demon Blog Tagged: Angel vs. Demon, elf, fairy, fantasy, R B Holbrook, short story, writing

Sipping Tea w/ the Ex-Assassin and the Tyrant Part 6

Demon: “Why are you staring at RB, Angel?”

Angel: “The facial expressions. Watch the facial expressions. I can tell when RB gets to a good part of the story by the way her face changes.”

Demon: “Regardless, stop staring. It’s creepy.”

Angel: “Is it?”

Rb: “Yeah, it is. Now hush, I’m not finished reading.”

___________

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT PART 6

“Where is my tea?!” The queen screamed as she looked around what used to be a throne room. Torn filthy rags hung from the ceilings and walls like they were once curtains and tapestries of royalty. Stone pillars were worn down to chunks of rubble. It was a damn mess and she was standing in the heart of it.

Lights from the faery wings of her soldiers lit the night. Her soldiers and attendants fanned out to look for the tea maker and the tea that should have been there in the throne room where a podium sat. The white marble podium was the only thing in the room that wasn’t a heap of ruin. Though dreadfully ordinary, the thing was clearly maintained and cleaned regularly.

“Where is the tea maker? Huh? Can someone tell me what in the hell is going on?” She stamped her foot, high heel digging into the fragile stone floor. Her soldiers were scrambling for answers, but no one told her shit. “Find them both!”

She paced the floor waiting, staring down at her beloved. The skull looked back up at her lovingly as she spoke her concerns. “You should be doing this, you know. All this should be yours. We should rule together.” She leaned in closer, ”Why? Why won’t you take over? You are so much calmer and patient, my love. You have the finesse and cunning I don’t. I… Yes, you’re right.” She sighed. “You’re always right.”

Placing a kiss on the skull, she smiled, feeling her frustration ease.

“Your grace,” One of her captains came up to her and bowed to one knee.

“Speak,” She said putting her free hand on her hip.

The man waved his hand to the side signaling… Aaaah.

Three soldiers shuffled up to her with a withered old man wearing a grand ceremonial robe of Light – white with gold and black trim far more beautiful than the rest of the drab filled Temple.

“I’m guessing you are the tea maker?”

The old man frowned, his cloudy eyes unfocused. He stood, barely, swaying as if any moment his brittle bones would fail him.

“Answer me!” She shouted.

“Huh?” The man’s voice croaked as he tilted his ear to her. “Huh!”

Death was only a heartbeat away from this blind and half-deaf shriveled-up shit unworthy of her time.

“Did you find the tea?” She asked the soldier.

“He was hunched sleeping near a steeper but the vessel was empty. It doesn’t look like it’s been used for years.”

“Dammit. Talk to him, scream if you have to, but make this fool talk.” She pointed a flaming finger at the decrepit speck. Now she was starting to believe the myth about the tea maker dying after creating the tea. To think the maker spent over thousands of years of life to create a damn healing elixir. A waste of time and breath.

They took the ancient man away to question him. She twirled around when she felt the approach of several guards.

“Most powerful queen!” One of her captains ran up and bowed low. The other soldiers followed suit.

“Yes?”

“My soldiers found someone unconscious in the ruins below. According to a few of the pilgrims we interrogated, the man fits the description of a male who was looking for a female faery named Sherris.”

The queen’s veins turned to ice as more guards poured into the shabby throne room carrying the one man she hated more than anything. The only man who slipped from her grasps so many years ago.

The captain smiled, pleasure mirrored in his face knowing he just received a promotion. He would be right to think so because she was going to have him in her bed chambers when they returned to her kingdom. Thrills of excitement shivered through her as they strung the man up, thick strong arms lifted high over his head. One soldier flew the rope to the ceiling where it was tethered and tied high on a pillar.

On his face was a single scar on the side of his cheek that was as if a narrow cut had healed wrong. His face was as chiseled and rough as rock. Nothing beautiful, it looked like life hated the man, giving him such a distasteful appearance.

As he hung, muscular body swinging, she circled him. All thoughts of her purpose there vacating her mind as the hate bubbled, boiled, and steamed. Her arm rose and swung a backhand so hard, her body trembled in pain before a scream of fury echoed though the ancient castle like a siren.

The man’s head rolled hard before his eyes popped open and fixated right on her. His obvious shock came out in a curse, “Oh, shit.”

She snarled. “Yes. You. Are.”

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 1

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 2

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 3

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 4

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 5

RbH

Filed under: Angel vs. Demon Blog Tagged: Angel vs. Demon, elf, fairy, fantasy, queen, R B Holbrook, short story, writing

Sipping Tea w/ the Ex-Assassin and the Tyrant Part 5

Rb: “Hmm…”

Angel: “Uh, oh, Rb’s frowning.”

Demon: “It must be about your part of the story, because my part is perfect.”

Angel: “Hardly. Should we ask?”

Demon: “You ask.”

Angel: “Me? Why me?”

Demon: “Safer for me if you take on enemy fire.”

Angel: “….”

Demon: “What?”

____________

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT PART 5

The voices of thousands echoed against the walls of the ruins, “All Hail, Queen Angelus!!”

Mecten cursed the priests who made him leave his pack behind as the ceiling crumbled debris down onto his head while searching through the ruins trying to find Sherris. The few pilgrims not killed by vicious shadow wolves were finding places to hide away from the approaching army. Most of the survivors were either skilled fighters or lucky thieves.

None of them saw  a faery inside the ruins. The one faery he found dead was male. Not his Sherris. Had Sherris been one of those killed in the valley?

His heart sunk fearing the worst. The worst being not that she was dead, but that her crazy sister had her.

Sherris was no warrior. She didn’t have many skills at all. Born a princess, she was raised to be diplomatic, elegant, and spoiled.

Skirting around a hole in the stone mosaic floor, he chuckled to himself. When he found her outside the walls of the Faerius Kingdom, she was cloaked and trying her best to fit into the dingy inn she was staying that night. Tralie had set up the meeting because Sherris was looking to hire someone.

Though new to the outside world, she wasn’t fragile, eagerly learning what she needed to survive on her own because home was not home to her. Her father, mad with lust and blood, turned his greedy eyes toward her. Sherris barely got away with her life.

Wanting to rescue her sister, Sherris hired Mecten. The job seemed easy enough seeing how mild-mannered and refined she was; he expected the younger sister to come along willingly.

Angelus was nothing like her sister. The moment Sherris escaped the kingdom Angelus killed their father and mother to assume the throne. When Mecten approached her and mentioned the eldest sister, the look in the insane queen’s eyes was that of pure malice. He wasn’t sure at whom, himself or Sherris, because he found himself running from waves of flames headed straight at him. The flames were easy enough to douse, but if she hadn’t been Sherris’s little sister, the queen would be dead by his hands.

For that weakness, sparing that winged witch, the shadow of Dark that always hung over Faerius was now a thick blanket under Angelus’s rule.

Sherris pushed pass the loss, though sadness clung to her for several seasons. She was so strong.

They spent seven glorious years together until a year and a half ago, when she caught him assassinating a high-priced  target. He had no idea that she was headed for the market that day. If he had known…

“She left? Just up and packed her things without a word or explanation because she saw you kill a target…? Didn’t she come from a violent family? It’s not like you used that violence against her. Hell, she saw me kill one of my own customers and didn’t shy away from my bar… Love is more fickle than I can understand. Or maybe there is more to why she left,” Tralie had said but Mecten didn’t believe it. The elf didn’t see that look of fear in those beautiful eyes.

Shaking the past out of his mind, Mecten skulked within the shadows of the ruins slowly watching each step and making sure he avoided any dangerous creatures. It wasn’t hard, since all the noise the soldiers behind him made, echoed through the ancient castle scaring anything with a sense of danger in the opposite direction. Those fools were going to bring the place down on everyone’s heads. The only thing that might be holding up the walls were the thick creeping, black vines and the trees that seemed to have grown in the middle of what used to be corridors and rooms of the Blighting Kingdom’s castle.

Cracks in the ceiling, showed glimmers of light from a sun that would be setting in a couple of hours. He had to move faster, or he would be bumbling around in the dark. His eyesight was good, but his night vision was another story.

The thought of Tralie popped into his mind. Why hadn’t he asked her for more information? He was in such a hurry to find Sherris he didn’t stop to ask the important questions. Why would Sherris be attending this event turned death festival? How did Tralie know about this? And how long had she known?

Tralie was as close to a best friend as Mecten had. He trusted the elf with his life and secrets. Even if he never came to her about Sherris, why hadn’t the elf come to him? In the end, she did, didn’t she. When he feared the answers, Tralie gave it to him anyway. Sometime she did that, giving him information he didn’t ask for, useful or otherwise.

“Did you know that the healing tea of Light is the only known potion to cure anything?” Tralie had once told him, smile gleaming, as they sat in a foreign bar drinking. It was fifteen years ago, their first meeting. The elf had just finished assassinating the king of Morhavin while Mecten had assassinated the male who hired her. The coincidence made them instant friends. Tralie was a female version of himself. Both probably the best assassins in the world, able to drink almost anyone under the table, the only difference was Tralie knew more about everything.

“It even cures curses! Can you believe that? But it’s only available during the Festival of Light held every…” She counted on her fingers before laughing, “Wow! We’re some lucky fools. None alive today have ever witnessed the festival.” She had said then downed her ale before asking for another mug.

Why would Sherris need to attend the Festival? Was she aiming for the tea? Or did she plan on enjoying the Temple festivities?

Mecten froze, something eerie crawled over him as the feeling he was being watched overwhelmed him. He spun around just in time to catch a shadow wolf by the ruff of it’s neck. Another one came at his ankles, but the wolf he was holding became its prey instead when Mecten tossed the beast he was holding. Both wolves went tumbling backward. Where there were two… He whirled around, ducking just as one jumped over his head.

No weapons and his vow to never kill again was a disadvantage for a man trained to kill. Three more came from the shadows, skulking, green eyes gleaming, starving for blood. Before he could think of a counter, his foot gave way to the caving stone floor that dropped him through several unstable levels of the ancient ruins. One by one, he fell through hitting each crumbling stone barrier that made him realize even old fragile rock still hurt on impact. Disorientation and pain joined him on his continuing descent, until unconsciousness smashed into him.

RbH

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 1

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 2

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 3

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 4

Filed under: Angel vs. Demon Blog Tagged: Angel vs. Demon, creative writing, elf, fairy, fantasy, R B Holbrook, short story, Sipping Tea with the Ex-Assassin and the Tyrant

Sipping Tea w/ the Ex-Assassin and the Tyrant Part 4

Demon: “Angel, are you pouting?”

Angel: “…”

Demon: “Ha, ha! This is great.”

Angel: “I get this is just a story, but… I just… can’t believe you.”

Rb: “Well, you can always write about him in the next story.”

Angel: “Revenge is petty… wait… did you say-”

Demon: “Next story!?! Dammit!!”

_________

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT PART 4

Reveling in the screams of unadulterated terror and explosions ringing out around her carriage, Queen Angelus smoothed her hands over her red leather corset, licked her lips, and rose from the sweating panting male below her. She straightened her hair, pushing stray tendrils back into place.

Snapping her fingers, her waiting female attendant sprang into action, washing her down, and redressing her.  Her male attendant opened the carriage door and ordered the winded naked male out of the queen’s presence.

“It’s not much further, darling, be patient.” She cooed to the gleaming skeleton shelved high, wedged close to the roof. “Melissias,” She called to her attendant, “you forgot something.”

The carriage slowed as it neared the mountain and began to ascend. The male attendant approached, grabbing the hem of the queen’s dress and pulled the fabric up while the carriage swayed and bumped. Angelus took a dainty curl of Melissias’s hair and played with it absently as the other female slipped the delicate fabric of her panties up her legs.

“Ah, that’s better.” She exhaled satisfied, bent over, and placed a kiss on the female’s lips. “Tonight, you will please me.” She stood up straight and looked at her other attendant whose head was bowed, his bare chest flexed. “As will you.” She touched thick arms marveling at the flawlessness, and then dug her nails into the flesh. He didn’t flinch, but closed his eyes and embraced the mark. Oh, yes, she’d enjoy him later.

“Your highness! Queen Angelus, the Temple priests have closed the gates to the Temple and refuse to open them. They say we can only proceed on foot with no weapons.”

Enraged, the queen slammed the carriage door open. “Then blast the gates apart!”

The prostrating soldiers lined before her like rows of beautiful flowers, wings fluttering in the air. One of them said, “No amount of magic, explosives, or force is effective, my queen.”

Hands on her hips, her wings flapped, flying her over her army.

“You have wings! Use them!”

Without hesitation her military took flight with spears and swords in hand. Over the wall they swarmed in droves. The sight brought a smile to her lips.

Flying higher into the air, she turned to marvel at the smoking, crying survivors writhing in their own misery. “You there,” she called to her rear-captain. “Kill all remaining who don’t swear allegiance to Lord Demonis.”

“Aye, my queen! Soldiers, for the all powerful Demonis!” He rallied the lingering troops to spread out into the valley.

“Yes, yes! For the perfection of Dark.” She inhaled, shuddering with exhilaration. “Melissias! Bring my precious gift!”

The servant came bowed in the carriage door way holding up the offering on a velvet red cushion. There her beloved lay, gleaming in the light of day. Angelus fluttered low, took the cushion under both her hand, and then flew high, high, over the wall.

“My love,” She whispered to the perfectly preserved bone formation. “Today, we will free the world from the chains of Light. And you will be with me the whole time.” She caressed her lover, gently. “Oh, yes, I know. It is glorious isn’t it?”

Sitting on the wall of the gate surrounding the Temple, Queen Angelus admired the carnage of priests’ heads flying. The velvet cushion sat in her lap while she petted her beloved, whispering sweet words of promise.  ”After I finished with our Master’s temple, I will build one for you my love.”

The Temple of Light and Dark was a mundane design with no comforts or luxuries, nothing but gray stone for the walls and floor. Unworthy of the Immortal Demonis. Where were the jewels? A change was in order! The smaller buildings on the outskirts, which were probably where the priests slept, would be used for the Temple’s slaves. They would maintain the Temple’s beauty once she finished redesigning everything. At the center, the large sanctuary would display the most magnificent ornate sacrificial altar, where sacrifices would be held daily. Or maybe she should just lay waste to the whole structure and build the Temple of Dark from the ground up. Out in the valley, her kingdom would build the largest most alluring shrine to his Darkness. Yes, her vision was splendid.

“Most honorable and beautiful queen.” A voice called her attention to one of her captains who held an elven head in his hand by the hair. Open mouth, empty dead eyes, and pointy ears dangling in the male’s hand made her giggle. “A tribute: the head of the high priest.”

“Well done!” She clapped her hands. “What did you learn from him before you killed him?”

“Several pilgrims have already ventured into the Blighting Runes toward the Inner Sanctum where the tea maker resides.”

“What!” She jumped from the wall catching her beloved in her hands. Floating down to the ground, she commanded, “Get into those ruins before they touch my tea! If the creatures of Blighting don’t kill those pilgrims my soldiers will, is that clear?”

“As you say, your highness!”

“Let me be clearer, you worthless shits!” She announced magically letting her voice carry over the land and through the surrounding buildings. “Kill anything moving and remove any obstruction in the way! When I proceed into Blighting I better not even clip a wing or I will paint my new temple walls in your blood!” With one hand, she lifted her beloved in the air for all to see. ”This I decree!”

“All hail, Queen Angelus!!”

RbH

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 1

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 2

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 3

Filed under: Angel vs. Demon Blog Tagged: Angel vs. Demon, elf, fairy, fantasy, R B Holbrook, short story, Sipping Tea with the Ex-Assassin and the Tyrant, writing

Sipping Tea w/ the Ex-Assassin and the Tyrant Part 3

Angel: “Is this valid, RB? Can he change the villain to a queen after you gave instructions that his character should be a king?”

Rb: “Who am I to stifle creativity? He kept with most of the parameters, so I’ll allow it. It’s an interesting twist.”

Angel: ” Wha- Wait… but… Ugh!  And I can’t believe you named your villain after me!! It looks like I’M WORSHIPPING YOU!!”

Demon: “Hell yeah!”

Angel: “No! This is blasphemy!”

Demon: “No, it’s fiction. Get over it.”

Angel: “Is that why you wanted to ‘proofread the entire story for inconsistencies’ so you could change your character? And is that why you agreed to my ending so easily?”

Demon: “Maybe.”

Angel: “You’re…foul.“

Demon: “Why thank you!!”

Rb: “Shhhhhh, I’m reading.”

___________

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT PART 3

The Temple of Light and Dark was the greatest authority in all Mysteria. There were many kingdoms and municipals in the world that governed themselves, but everyone in Mysteria – kings, queens, priests, peasants, human, elf, faery, troll – paid homage and bowed to the creed of the Temple.

Serving all races, species, and classes, the Temple priests did the works of the Light to illuminate the hearts and minds of the many.

Every one hundred years the temple closed its doors letting Dark find footing in Mysteria to freely strike out at all that might know hope. Never mind that the Dark always existed in the heart’s shadow, because now it flourished and bloomed into soul poison in every creature.

Even those who held a firm discipline of Light suffered the sickness of Dark.

Mecten had never been a righteous citizen. There was no love in him for the Light or the Dark, but the closest he ever got to Light was the sensual voice and soothing nature of Sherris.

Those delicate hands on his skin was Light.

Dark was the day he dimmed that carefree smile and those brilliant eyes.

Memories played out causing pain within. He had caused the look of blended betrayal, sadness, mistrust, anger, confusion, and fear on her beautiful face. How would he ever forget that nameless expression? What he would do, give, or take to undo history’s cruelty.

Vividly, he remembered the tears that were there, edged at the cliff of her lashes as he killed the target with his bare hands. She didn’t say a word while the target’s pulse faded against his fingertips. Not a single word or whimper escaped her lips when she backed away, out the room, leaving silence and sorrow in his soul. That was the last time he saw her… the last time he ever took a life.

Mecten lay on his stomach looking out over the valley towards the grand structure of the great Temple perched high in the Halo Mountains. Though his eyes fixated on its majesty, his mind held open the memories of his one and only everything. When focus finally returned to him, he raised the binoculars to his eyes and spied across the grassy expanse to the purple/green foliage of the towering sacred mountains. From the overhang of the cliff, the view was excellent. He numbered every caravan and traveler headed toward the Temple. All attending the Tea Festival – the ceremony to end the long reign of Dark.

Crossing the valley and the climb to the Temple would take average humans days to make.

Mecten wasn’t average.

Jumping to his feet, slinging his pack on his back and hooking his hood over his head, he jumped over the side of the cliff. Leaning back to keep from falling forward, his boots skated down the rocky side of the ridge. Several feet from hitting level ground, he jumped and landed planting both boots firmly on even terrain.

Brushing off dirt and dust from his descent, he checked his surroundings. No trees to cover him in shadow meant pretending to be the everyday traveler. A pilgrim, that’s what he would be. A pilgrim of Light heading for such a virtuous event. Sounded good.

As the sun rose higher and the air grew warmer, Mecten decided to take a break. Finding a small channel of water, he dropped to his knees and buried his face in to drink. He’d better get some to go as well. After filling up his canteen, he stood to his feet, spied the midday sun, the surrounding camps, all while screwing the lid back on his container and sliding it back into his pack.

He peeled off his heavy coat knowing he didn’t need it in the sunny weather of the valley. It helped not to display where he traveled from, and the coat announced cold weather.  Flexing his arms, rotating his shoulders, he continued his long trek across the breadth, toward the Tea Festival Tournament. A race for the ages where anyone could participate, but only one would win and few would survive.

The history of the race was brutal. All participants battled through the old ruins of Blighting Kingdom, located behind the Temple mountains. The barbaric lands were a test in itself where only the strong survived, maybe. Needless to say, few who entered the race, lived.

Once riddled with war and famine, Dark paraded through the kingdom, creating nothing more than a desolate wasteland of depraved creatures. Blighting was a constant reminder of what could happen when Dark took over completely.

He was half way through the valley when the sounds of screaming and the smell of smoke turned his attention behind him. White and red horses rode across the terrain leaving a trail of fire. The riders on the horses’ backs were winged creatures stringing deadly arrows.

“What in the name of-” Mecten turned back toward the Temple and began to sprint. Huffing in air, he sucked the magic from it to fuel him. His body lightened letting his feet take him farther and faster, quailing distance. He hadn’t a clue what was going on but those butchers behind him would have to catch him if they wanted to kill him.

Mecten stopped and hunched over at the Temple gate to suck in breath. The inhale and exhale was so hard, his muscles quaked and his lungs strained.

Two temple priests stood at the open gateway, bowed. “Welcome.” Dressed in white ceremonial robes trimmed in black, the priests were calm as if the valley wasn’t burning and screaming.

“Don’t you see the massacre going on down in the-”

“All are welcomed,” They said in unison, not caring in the least that they were volunteering to be slaughtered.

He opened his mouth to protest, or curse some sense into them, when the sounds of terror rose signaling the advancing army.

Mecten glanced back down the side of the mountain. Everything scorched with fire and blood. When he saw the butterfly like creatures with spears flying over the valley, he knew.

Faeries!

There was only one kingdom of faeries in the world who would dare raid neutral territory: Faerus Kingdom, a nest of helpless faeries enslaved by that evil sadistic Queen Angelus.

Sherris’s baby sister.

Of all the people he hoped to never see again… What a bad time for him to give up killing!

RbH

Filed under: Angel vs. Demon Blog Tagged: Angel vs. Demon, fantasy, R B Holbrook, short story, Sipping Tea with the Ex-Assassin and the Tyrant, writing

Sipping Tea w/ the Ex-Assassin and the Tyrant Part 2

With a hard swing, Queen Angelus…

Rb: looks up from the paper at Demon, “W-wait. You named your main villain after…”

Angel: “WHAT!! When did you change this? Why is your tyrant a queen! Why is her name ANGELUS!?!?”

Demon: “Muwahahahaha!!“

Rb: “Whoa…” continues reading.

__________

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT Part 2

With a hard swing, Queen Angelus flung the crimson soiled scepter across the room barely missing the heads of the guards standing post inside the throne room. The messenger whimpered holding the crushed form that no longer passed for a hand.

“Only the will of our great Lord Demonis speaks here!” Her regal voice echoed off the walls. Standing over the quivering male human, the queen peered down through narrowed lashes, upper lip curled in revulsion at having ruined another scepter on an unworthy shit. “There is no Light worthy of Demonis’s grace and yet you come here spreading your filth?” She spat on him before turning her eyes up to stare at her eager guards. “Cut him up and feed him to my slaves. Make sure his head is the last to go, I want his screams to sing me to sleep.” She turned her back to the would-be priest of “Light”.

“P-p-please, Queen Angelus, I am not of this land, I’m-”

Ignoring his pitiable pleas and prayers, the queen strolled over the blood-red carpet leading to her throne taking the new shiny gold diamond encrusted scepter being offered to her by her steward. Halfway to the throne, she stopped, bowing before the grand statue that hung over her chair, her velvet black robes and cape flowing around her. The horned being of all onyx stared down at her, red ruby eyes gleaming pleased.

She spoke, “Oh great Demonis, you are all the Light I need. Mighty Dark incarnate, forgive this lowly one for allowing such filth into your unholy presence.”

FORGIVEN came the crawling whisper over Queen Angelus’s skin, a chilling kiss to her senses and her sex. THE NEWS IS GRIM. LIGHT SEEKS TO CAGE ME AGAIN. I WILL NOT ALLOW IT. GO MY CHILD. DO WHAT SO FEW HAVE SUCCEEDED IN DOING, DESTROY THE TEMPLE OF LIGHT AND DARK.

“Great Dark, what about your shrine? I have not completed your temple yet.”

THINK. WHERE BETTER TO HAVE A TEMPLE, THAN IN THE REMAINS…

“Of the temple of Light and Dark.”

YEEEESSSS. ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS  DESECRATE T HE HEALING TEA AND KILL ALL WITHIN THE TEMPLE.

Of course. “Brilliant my lord.”

BE WARNED: A HERO ALWAYS RISES TO SIDE WITH LIGHT TO STOP MY WILL. BUT YOU WILL BE PREPARED. TAKE WITH YOU THAT WHICH I GIFTED TO YOU A YEAR AGO THIS DAY. SHOULD YOU FAIL, MY GRACE WILL ABANDON YOU DAMNING YOU. SUCCEED AND ETERNAL LIFE WILL BE YOURS AND I WILL MAKE YOU MY BRIDE.

Angelus shook with pleasure as her tongue slowly licked her lips greedily at the thought of the unchained lust and ever flowing blood her master would gift her with.

Dark laughter echoed around the throne room, making all those inside bow in fear and reverence as the queen turned lifted her scepter into the air and made her decree. “I, Queen Angelus, on the authority of our Lord Demonis, the all powerful Dark, will be attending the Tea Festival.”

“All Hail, the Queen!” The royal announcer proclaimed as a chant of worship resounded through the castle.

“Guards!” She waved her hands as she marched from the room, heading toward her vaults. “Ready my army. We conquer by fire!”

Her strut took her down immaculate corridors draped in red velvet and black diamond chandeliers radiated the Dark’s splendor. Keeping their lowly heads bowed, her advisors followed.

“May I speak, your most Highness?” One of them said behind her.

“Speak.” She allowed.

“Shall I prepare the royal send off? It will take several days to reach the Temple and I would like to make sure your grace is more than comfortable for the journey.”

“Of course. Go.” She waved his off. If her travels were the least bit uncomfortable, she would behead him herself.

Another advisor spoke. “Most Marvelous Queen, if I may?”

“Fine.”

“With you leaving, someone will need to attend to the day-to-day duties of making sure the slaves continue building the shrine and maintaining the kingdom.”

The advisor’s assumption made her stop hard. “Do you have someone in mind, dear Valoras?”

“Well, my queen, I thought-”

“You thought you were worthy? YOU!” Laughter escaped her mouth as she held her sides, wings shivering with excitement. Slowly, she turned to face the female with the audacity to suggest something so, “Foolish.” The queen stepped up to the female whose pretty little wings trembled as she bowed low. Fear created a satisfying delicacy. “My executioners and punishers will carry out those duties as they always do. But I suddenly find myself in need of another advisor.” Flicking her finger to point at the woman, flames poured from the appendage and spun toward the female who shot up into the air, trying to fly away.

“Fly! Fly, fly away pretty little butterfly!” The queen sang. Her laughter was a uncontainable force echoing around her as she watched the advisor scream for help, flying for the nearest window.

“Come, we still have much to do.” Angelus continued on her journey with her remaining advisors.

A shrill anguished “Forgive me!” called to her mingling with the torrid smell of burning flesh.

“Clean that up!” She waved at one of the castle attendants stumbling by.

Down in the depths of the castle, two floors from the catacombs and one floor up from the dungeons, her vaults waited. There she kept the most precious artifacts of Dark and her favorite keepsake that the Magnificent Demonis gifted her a year ago.

She waved her hand allowing her magic to permeate the large magically sealed door. The round heavy construct, formed from the bones of her enemies, shuddered, before slowly rolling open.  Passing though the entry, waltzing beyond the gold and jeweled baubles, ancient texts encased in glass, and ornate statues of the Dark One, Queen Angelus stopped in the back chamber before a smoky glass podium.

Tears streaming down her cheeks, hands trembling, she lifted the glass bell jar protecting her most precious gift. Resting on the red velvet pillow was the magically glimmering skull of her beloved.

“Hello, my love. We’re going on a trip.” Angelus carefully placed a kiss on the forehead of her beauty. An orgasmic sensation shot through the queen, her lips parting to cry out. On an intake of breath, she said, “As I you, my love. Forever.”

RbH

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN & THE TRYANT PART 1

Filed under: Angel vs. Demon Blog Tagged: Angel vs. Demon, fantasy, R B Holbrook, short story, Sipping Tea with the Ex-Assassin and the Tyrant, writing

Sipping Tea w/ the Ex-Assassin and the Tyrant Part 1

Rb: “What? You’re finished?”

Angel: “Yes… it’s not perfect-”

Demon: “Speak for yourself! My part is freakin’ awesome!!”

Rb: “I can only imagine.”

Angel: “Now… listen, before you start reading, please don’t judge me based on my character. I mean… it was hard for me to stay true to my character because of… I mean…”

Rb: “Sipping Tea with the Ex-Assassin and the Tyrant? That’s the title?”

Demon: “Yeah, Angel came up with most of it. She wanted it to read Sipping Tea with the Ex-Assassin and the Faery, but damn that. I at least want my character to be badass even if he’s a stinkin’ faery.”

Angel: “Um… its broken down in parts… so you get both of our points of view… and… I hope you like it.”

Rb: “Angel, calm down. It’s not a matter of life or death. Now, let’s begin…”

———–

SIPPING TEA WITH THE EX-ASSASSIN AND THE TYRANT PART 1

Staring into the allure of the ale, Mecten took in a decisive breath. He pushed the heavy mug away from him for the sixth time that night.

“You might as well drink, Mec,” The elf across the counter said, pushing it back toward him, “since it’s already paid for.”

Mecten stared up at the wiry creature as obstinacy made him push the mug back toward her. “Give it to someone who deserves it, Tralie.”

With long thin fingers, Tralie picked up the large mug and downed the contents like it was water. She dumped the container in the washbasin behind her and then leaned over the bar onto her folded arms. “So that makes… what… three nights in a row?”

“Five.”

“Wow!” Her large eyes, widened, “My friend you’re making some headway into putting me out of business. You know I built this bar off your career. Your killer reputation got me started, but you don’t kill anymore. So now I’m stuck with old tales that the regulars are tired of hearing and my used to be number one customer stops drinking. What is a poor elf to do?”

“Stop whining and find another fool to exploit?”

The elf laughed the usually lighthearted sound. Her eyes twisted up in the corners to show her genuine amusement. “Mec. I’ve been meaning to ask you all night…” One arm broke away from her position, as a finger extended to point in Mecten’s direction. “Are you going on a trip?”

So the elf noticed the pack at Mecten’s back. He walked into the bar his usual time, ordering his usual drink, and trying not to seem suspicious so the female didn’t notice. But as usual, Tralie noticed everything. Probably even knew exactly how many nights he had gone without a single drink, however, that thin face never revealed more than a smile or amused expression.

Tralie had the long feminine lashes, thick short curly hair, and lips that most males would have fallen for instantly. Though she was too thin for his tastes, she was pretty. It was her mouth and her occupations that kept every male and female two arms lengths away from her. Though she owned the bar named Jolli Frosti Froth, Tralie could slice a warm body open or fire an arrow and gun with deadly precision. Like most elves, she looked thin and breakable, yet was quick, nimble, and resilient. She took fewer assassin gigs now, but she still gives out assignments to anyone willing to do the dirty work. If Tralie didn’t have information on something, it wasn’t worth knowing.

Her ever present “happy” face wasn’t a mask, because Tralie was always happy. She could kill as jolly as she could serve a drink. It was just her nature. A nature that kept him coming to the bar many years after he quit needing information from her. A small cup of joy in his life was all he needed. Though he probably hadn’t earned it, he soaked up what bit he could find. Tralie was a small cup full.

“I know that look.” She sighed, her lips settling into a smirk. “So that’s why you have that pack on. You’re going to go look for her again.”

 There was no answer he could give. She knew. The best source of information in all the cold snowy country was sitting right in front of him and he couldn’t bring his lips to form the question, Where is Sherris? The answer was there in those eyes, ready to answer the question he never asked because part of him didn’t want to know.

“Well, the bar will be here when you get back, Mec.” With a tilt of her head, a tiny curl flopped over one of her gold eyes.

He chuckled and stood to his feet, buttoning his heavy rough wool coat, then hefting the pack onto his back.

“Mec!” One of the regulars yelled, lifting up his mug. “Where you goin’? Another mission? Who dies this time?”

“No mission. Good evening.” He bowed his head before heading for the door.

“Mec,” Tralie’s voice caught his ear. “If you want to find her, enter the race.” There was an unnerving quiver in that voice he was so used to hearing joy from. He turned back but she disappeared into the backroom, door clicking shut behind her. That uneasiness must have been his imagination. Tralie was never uneasy.

His eyes stayed transfixed on the backroom door as her words finally sunk in. If he wanted to find her he had to what? The race? Why the race?

Mecten was running down the incline of the mountain path before he could think further. It was the first lead he was ever given. His purpose was clear: to find the Temple of Light and Dark and enter the Tea Festival. There was no need to pay concern to the fact he was headed to the most dangerous tournament in the world. His heart raced as fast as his mind and his legs at the possibility of seeing her again. Just to see Sherris and marvel at her beautiful face and brilliant personality would be a miracle even if no words were exchanged or those gorgeous eyes never saw him. A miracle he anticipated.

 

Filed under: Angel vs. Demon Blog Tagged: Angel vs. Demon, R B Holbrook, short story, Sipping Tea with the Ex-Assassin and the Tyrant, tea festival, writing