Chapter 2: Blades of the Black Bird

Most men in Rayan’s military chose the Order of the Blood Blade—a fierce and mighty warrior clan within the caste of Raji’Draq consisting of skilled dragon riders and blood knights. Radu was not one of them. He joined the Order of the Raven Blade, the ancient House of the Raji’Rav. Its members were well-versed in the art of assassination tactics. Like rogues, they acted from within the shadows and pursued their targets just as persistently. Coal-black hair was considered their trademark. Most of them dyed it black these days in a ceremonial initiation rite. But there was a time when this dark hair was more than a fashionable guild tradition.

As the order’s name derived from an old curse, it was shunned by most in fear of bad fortune. However, having a Raven Blade in their arsenal was an advantage many of the noble houses wouldn’t want to forgo. They would be treated as fearsome agents, securing the safety of the noble families they served. Dangerous lapdogs of their mistresses they were, willing to defend their name with utmost cruelty and lethal efficiency, if necessary. A Rayan household with a Raven Blade to afford would rise to the top of hierarchy within an instant and make a name for themselves by asserting dominance over their adversaries. Their battle-hardened bodies, shaped in countless duels for achieving highest ranks within their clan, were also rather pleasant to look at. Paired with their darkened hair, uncommon for Rayan standards, many a noblewoman would yearn for such a devil between her thighs and pay good coin for it, too. 

Not many understood Radu’s decision to serve the barkskins in that regard. He was one of the few Raven Blades in service of Nemesava’s throne. Their women weren’t particularly known for their permissive character, nor a lavish lifestyle—two features almost mandatory for a respectable status in society going by Rayan aristocrats. But there was one thing nobody dared to doubt. The Night Blades’ ability to kill. A pack of sly Nemesian nightstriders, securing the country’s border with indisputable sovereignty. Their martial arts combined the skills of huntsmanship with the qualities of agile blade dancing and the mystic power of rune sorcery. No enemy ever survived long enough in a one-on-one battle with their rune dancers to tell the tale. And no matter how big the Rayan ego, it would immediately falter when left standing too far behind the tree line of Azwood in a cold and lonely night. That is where Radu’s longing went—behind those trees at the southern border, to the blades of night and their well-hidden secrets, him once having been one of them.

It was hard for the young blade dancer to feel any kind of pride for his ancestry. As the illegitimate child of a human woman and a Rayan exile, who had left the family too early to earn any sympathy from his half-blood son, Radu felt like being related to his father’s people was more of a burden. He would have preferred never to set foot into Gardyan’s northern realm and instead continue his training in the clan halls of the Twidan. The ruling family of Nemesava had taken him under their wings after he found his way into the mysterious lands behind the Great Veil as a young boy. They took him in and raised him like one of their own, although his chalk-white face clearly stuck out like a sore thumb at the dinner table. During great clan gatherings, they would hide him from outsiders. Strangers talk and assess—a local saying Radu would internalize at a very young age. He missed those corny pieces of wisdom of their elders during his apprenticeship at Rayan’s military academy. Homesick he fell for kin that wasn’t his.

As a Raji’Draq novice, he tried to bleach his cursed hair with citrus juice and vinegar several times, to rid himself of any memory his sinful origins had cast upon him, and, more importantly, to adapt to his mostly fair-haired peers. They never missed out on an opportunity to tease and engage him in unfair rank fights when the swordmasters weren’t looking. And they did so disproportionately often, especially because of his appearance. Even among other chalkskins, he still felt like an outsider. Unfortunately for him, the result of his bleaching attempts rarely lasted longer than a few minutes. The raven curse of his bloodline would not be erased so easily. It wasn’t surprising that they deemed him a Raji’Rav long before he would come to understand what that term actually meant.

Water ran down his cheeks straight to his chin, from where it dripped back into the black pool surrounding him. In front of the tub, a massive mirror with embellished black frame confronted him with his own reflection. A long time ago, that mirror would have shattered. A targeted fist blow would’ve crushed it into pieces. Radu’s knuckles would bleed, as would his back after the disciplinary penalty for his uncontrolled outburst that had broken the mirror of his hostess. Five lashes for every misdemeanour by the hands of Lady Ranush, a sadistic dominatrix par excellence. In order to get on the good side of Rayan’s matriarch, she offered penniless male students of the military academy accommodation in her pompous mansion on the outskirts of Rubinburgh. However, she made every poor dog, who accepted her offer pay for it with his dignity. The cadets were passed around among Ranush’s wealthy gossip circles to perform intimate services, satisfy strange fetishes or to conduct forced labour in the fields of these so-called noble hags’ estates. The grim reality of young men in a matriarchal society like Rayan.

Meanwhile, Radu only wished to be instrumentalised by one. His adored, lady-general Bozani, could be a tough one at times. But her actions were never guided by vulgar or sadistic intent. On the contrary, she had a quite distant personality, even ascetic, if you will. Most of the time, she denied herself any thought of pleasure, as she ironclad focused on her duty.

She had inherited the position of Nemesava’s military command from her mother. It was a tradition ever since the great houses of the southern realm had formed and Bo was prepared for her post from childhood on. Female leadership within a low male domain—unthinkable for the Rayonaigh. The Nemesian hierarchies, however, were different. A true challenge for a devoted servant, as Radu was to learn. Even greater a challenge according to the Rayan Codex. The matriarchy of the north had strict rules when it came to a valet’s obligations towards the woman he belonged to. He wasn’t simply expected to be at her side in everyday life but also was responsible for her content—inside and outside her bedroom. Bozani though, never seemed satisfied and she didn’t wish to be satisfied either. Closeness and intimacy weren’t terms she considered a priority in her vocabulary. Her personal companion therefore didn’t have to fear some sort of sexual abuse as long as he complied with her demands regarding military service.

Reluctantly, she had accepted him as her escort. The elders of the family more jokingly appointed him to be her bodyguard after he had stumbled into their realm. But as Radu grew older, he strove for much more than that. For he intended to claim nothing less than the lady-general’s hand in marriage. However, he first had to become worthy of her. Which meant that he had to earn the right to become his mistress’ blade supreme, and without a proper education in his father’s native military caste, he would be denied this rank. Probably very much to Bo’s rare content. This woman did not want to be tied up, nor did she want to be the centre of his plot. It wasn’t as if she, the leader of Nemesava’s fleet and army, couldn’t have guessed his secret plans. His mistress had a sharp mind, an even sharper tongue, and her very specific ways of coaxing out of him every single detail she suspected him of hiding truly were fascinating. Only if the answers to her interrogations were satisfactory enough would she finally agree to take her rightful seat on top of the best beast in her battalion. If Radu was lucky, his dark beauty would even let him take charge and set the pace. If he was even luckier, he was allowed to bite her neck and drink from her. The deepest bond two individuals could share—blood. But never would she let him kiss her. A fact that greatly bothered Radu. He had chased those plump lips so many times, but she always refused. It would take years for him to find out why—much longer than the humiliations and pain he had to endure to become what he had set his mind to: the most lethal blade of the Raji’Rav.

The training was relentless. Endless tournament rounds in the arena of the Draq’enar, the legendary Raji’Draq training ground. At night, the bloodiest battles would take place within the rustic stone walls of the duel ground. Hidden daggers, bloodthirsty transformations, gaping wounds and ranks within the orders swiftly changing due to the fateful outcome of such a match. Those who turned out victorious were given the rare opportunity to become a member of the Blood Drinkers. Said ritualistic cult was infamous for having mastered the higher transformation stages of the animalis. Which meant that they were able to wield the power of Rayan’s ancient spirit animals in battle: the blood fox, the blood raven and the dragon blood.

Rarely did a commoner achieve to master those forms of shapeshifting without professional guidance. Radu was an exception. His raven shift had been with him long before he came to Gardyan, even though he didn’t realise it as a boy. His eerie ambushes in the arena made many bleed, who dared to oppose him, Blood Blades and Raven Blades alike. The more surprising it appeared to his opponents, that he would never join the Blood Drinkers. Each night of victory, he had declined the offer. Instead, his ruby red eyes would search for the moon above, seeking her approval, when the defeated bent before him. Seeking for those ice cold yet fiercely glowing blue eye lights that were the first to spot him, when he passed the veil back then.

Azwood’s prehistoric portal had spit him out at the lakeside of Spiritwaters. A sacred place for all inhabitants of Nemesava. So much so that he was greeted with an arrow as the intruder he seemed to be. Bozani herself was still a girl at the time, but the way she drew her bow was already worthy of an experienced strider. Her white hair was tied in tight braids that matched the strict look she gave him. A single side-nod commanded him to slowly but steadily make his way to the forest path near the portal. It should become the most memorable walk in the woods he’d ever take.

Passing by mysteriously shaped trees, their drooping branches and elliptically shaped turquoise leaves immediately reminded Radu of his homeland’s weeping willows. The path was lined with exquisitely carved streetlamps, resembling the shape of high grown wayward endive in bloom. They shone a soft light on the nocturnal trail the arrowhead in his back steered him along. Small glowing amethyst and blue quartz crystals completed this otherworldly light spectacle, reflecting some of the lamp lights in their spectral surface. At least that would have explained the dancing sparks within the crystal structures, flickering like blue and purple fireflies. No mortal child had ever seen such fairytale-like sight materialize before their eyes. And they surely had no such fairytale-like guide either.

Like a prisoner she delegated him along the way to Nemesava’s forestal capital. But little boys don’t like defeat. The first few weeks, he really wanted to take revenge for being arrested by her. When they were ordered to train together, he’d imagine her to be a top priority target whenever she unleashed those angry movements of a wild cat. Like the raging claws of a panther her attacks welcomed him into the clan, letting him know that she would never accept to be conquered. She taught him all those groovy moves that would become his very rhythm. The clawed uppercut, the tearing downcut, the Azkahene reverse kick and the Abretinian ground sweep. It got even more fantastic when they finally were old enough to be allowed blades during battle. Both of them would find the greatest fulfilment in excelling all their peers in crossing swords and daggers. They were little local legends within their grade and a lot of kids regularly came to see them train in the evenings at the Akanaquem training court. But when they both grew older and Radu’s appearance more mature, something changed between them.

She stopped meeting him at the training ground and did not want to face him in battle anymore at all. Instead, she’d secretly observe him while he took his lessons with the grand masters. She was behaving weirdly around him, more rude than usual. It all became just worse, when Radu decided to extend his training into more… delicate fields of physical exercise. All Nemesian girls fell for him quite naturally. Radu was an exotic adventure for a lot of them, and they knew he would always leave them with a smirk on their sleeping faces, when he sneaked away again through their windows into the dark. Only one saw her mood gradually decline after she caught wind of his excursions into Spiritwaters’ women’s quarters. Those lovely fingers of hers should soon tell him why, when they were trying to escape his grip in demand of an explanation for her latest spiteful attitude.

It took him numerous attempts to lure her back into an encounter, down by the lakeside. She wasn’t expecting him on her way to the crystal garden and immediately went into hiding behind the great willow tree that guarded its entrance. Little did she know that Radu by now had learned to sneak after her unseen. When she was taking her ritual cleansing baths in the lake; when she was doing her private meditations and warm-ups, half naked, in the middle of the forest; or when she was changing routes because she had spotted him. She would not get to evade this time though.

There he stood, right behind her, blending in perfectly with the shadows of the forest, while she spied around the tree to check if he was still there. Playing hide and seek with Bo always was his favourite game when they were still children. He made his presence known by breathing a gentle, warm breeze down her neck. A slapping fist to greet him was expected and calmly disarmed. Why was she nervous? The closer he came, the more she meant to avoid his muscular body, so he simply pressed it against her with a gentle force to make her stop acting like he intended to harm her. Guiding her fingertips across his chest and down to his hips, her hand started shivering. A clear contrast to her unruly look that never feared those menacing red eyes of his. But her hissing wouldn’t make him stop. Leading her hands even deeper, he let her feel a part of his body she had never seen before. A part that should turn out to be her greatest weakness in the years to come. For she knew no defence to it. Pleading cries of passion, she sang to him that night as he reminded her of every hunter’s most important lesson: never underestimate your prey.

Ardently, he hunted down her innocence amidst that nightly ambient by the lake. A serious obsession should reveal itself, when his young mistress let her guard down for the first time. She was so lovely when she stared down to his dick with a mix of distrust and curiosity. Examining very closely, what it did and where it went, Radu would let her touch it and enjoy how carefully she became familiar with her new toy. To get her more excited, he would whisper to her what he intended to do next with it, kissing her blushing cheeks in the process. She had never felt a man inside of her before and Radu would make sure she wouldn’t feel another. Bo was his and his alone and he made it clear to any guy, who got too close to her.

In time, he would literally kill for those rare moments, when his fearsome warrior goddess fell victim to his dark art of seduction. Since she became embarrassed easily after showing weakness, his strategies adjusted briefly. He knew that her arousal was triggered by that beast inside of him. Therefore, he always made sure every single detail about his missions was written down as explicit as he reported them to the nightstriders’ headquarters. He’d go to incredible lengths pointing out how he tracked down his target, which tactics he applied in case of battle and with what relentless habit he followed her command. How Ravan and Ravaran, his two sharp companions, cut through flesh and guts in order to deliver her sentence. He had the two hunting swords made for him personally by Spiritwaters’ most skilled blacksmith. Their finely balanced blades carried out a gruesome craft. Polished with an oil solution of Dracaena cinnabari, Bo’s favourite scent, it would be the last thing any felon got a whiff of before the black steel made them taste their own blood.

Some scribes couldn’t help side-eyeing him in outrage and disbelief when he was leaning in the chair across their desk, poetically phrasing bloodlust into ecstatic narrative. Others just scratched their forehead while putting down his words, subtly clearing their throats at the most peculiar of lines. But Radu didn’t care. He knew his graphic descriptions always made her breathe a bit faster while going through the reports. The severed limbs, the strategical torture to gather information, the righteous gore he spilled in her name only. She’d never admit it, but she was an eager reader of his creepy love letters.

The best parts about it were her complaints and questionnaires, which she delivered exclusively via filed report reply. In all accuracy, she handed them in after closing hours at the door to his office downstairs in the headquarters. An impatient hand would pull her in and shut the door. Her feline side would come out to play, when his naked torso gave her little room to escape in the dark corners of their secret lair, and he would fondle her furry aspects in gentle appreciation. Calmly he studied her complaint letters and filled out her forms each time, while keeping her trapped between his body and his desk. Some smirks he often couldn’t prevent due to her highly official tone. Yet his mistress never came to remain official. Waiting for him to finish reading, she became restless and intended to leave if he wouldn’t let her feel her favourite toy against her thighs in the meantime. Of course, he let her play with it while going through her writing. It would grow larger and larger in her hands until it had reached its full size. Then, she’d tiptoe on top of it and rub her moist little scabbard at his carnal weapon, scented with the same oil as his daggers. Radu would put away the documents and watch her become the cutest version of herself, trying to practise her movements on top of his tip. He, though, wouldn’t move an inch until she completely had forgotten about the beast her playful ways were provoking. Catching her off guard with his first sudden thrust gave him the greatest pleasure. Oh, she surely scratched and bit at times, when he interrupted her play. But her marks on his shoulder only made him hornier, causing him to let her feel his girth even deeper. Those dainty tiptoes would get lifted up and down despite her defiant, cat-like murmur.

Absorbing her every reaction with the wildest stares, his careful thrusts were as professional as his daggers. He knew exactly where to place and how to stir them. She’d never get away with just a few. And when he finally had laid his much beloved prey, he’d carry her to the velvet settee, where she would fall asleep on his chest, exhausted, with her small wet furrow still tucked against his massive cock. Meanwhile, Radu would watch her, taste her, caress her furry ears with his nose and grin every time their irritated tips flapped in reaction to his touch. How could any ruthless bastard taint such wild beauty, hidden in a shell of solid rock? How could any degenerate individual rape such unspoilt nature, let alone assassinate her in the most disgraceful way imaginable?

Radu’s tense neck sank back into the tub. His investigations on the ritual murder of the Nyeda sisters that had occurred approximately two years prior to the re-establishment of the Raji’Rav did still not provide him with any satisfactory result. Even now that the same criminal pattern had started to reoccur, and his mistress slowly became anxious with his lack of trace, the slaughterer’s identity remained hidden and his motive unsolved. That weakling of a servant he had soul-interrogated a few minutes ago wasn’t of much help either. But at least, he had revealed something. A name: Dragovaste.

With grim facial expression, Radu’s sight got lost in the black pool again. That name sounded strangely Eastern European. Why it existed in the realms beyond the veil, he was not sure of. But he would find out as soon as he finally made it off this fucking ship.

The Raven Blade let out a long and deep snort. She was near. He could sense her presence from a mile away. Was she excited to see him again after they had parted ways a few weeks ago to pursue two separate tracks at sea? She could go without his cock for quite some time, that much he knew. But had she at least thought of it? Current circumstances wouldn’t make for a pleasant atmosphere, but maybe she would at least allow him to sleep next to her. He could’ve desperately needed her touch, if only for a moment.

Taking another deep breath, Radu once again went to vanish into the ink-infused tub water, becoming one with the nothingness it held. To hopefully get another useful ghostly whisper from a soul long gone, or maybe, even a soft word from his nearing ghostly mistress..