King's Possession

~Akara

She clasps my forearms, smiling at me through watery eyes. I'm leaving. Those two words echo persistently within my mind, such foreign and untouched terms when spoken past my lips. I've never left this village, let alone this Province. I'm leaving for the exact reasons my parents assigned me, but I can still see the regret swimming in my mother's eyes. The moment I turned eighteen, the burden fell heavily upon my shoulders.

My fingers had slowly peeled away the paper that concealed my present. A jade stone necklace, a tightly carved pattern in the shape of an eye. It was a silent reminder of the role I need to play, that no one ever expressly demands, but it's so painfully expected that the necklace now sits upon my chest, and I'm about to board a carriage to my new life.

"You're making me proud, Akara," she says, reaching up to tuck a stray curl behind my ear. It's the smallest movements that remind me how little I look like my mother. I got my father's foregin looks over her traditional Jade Province appearance. Dark hair, dark eyes. I watch a single tear fall from her eyes, a thin, transparent strip.

"I'll be back in a few months," I assure her, wiping the tear away with my thumb. A few months. I can handle a few months, right? The Jade Province is an especially devout place.

Here, we believe in our Guardian's, or as they are referred to, our Tani. Tani can be Guardian's or predators, depending on your belief. Here, in the Village of Celeste, we believe in a particularly powerful Tani. One none of us has ever seen...but we know it exists. We feel its presence.

"Can a mother not be sad that her only daughter is finally grown up?" she breathes, smiling delicately. Her fingers touch the necklace. "And to fulfil exactly what you were born to do."

I'm leaving to preach about our Tani, to bring awareness to the pray needed to satisfy the Beast. I'll be working at an inn in the Crystal Province, being a maid. It will sustain me long enough before I can return. Hopefully in that time, these nerves will diminish. I know nothing about the Crystal Province other than it's drenched in snow and surrounded by mountains. And the people there...aren't like me.

"I should go. I want to get to the inn by nightfall," I say through a loosened breath, motioning to the awaiting carriage behind me, the horses pawing impatiently at the ground.

Mother casts a glance over my shoulder, and for a moment, it looks as though she might tell me to stay. But like everything here, our duty to our Tani comes before anything else.

"I'll send a letter for when your father returns so we can all be together," she promises, leaning forward to kiss my cheek. My eyes squeeze shut, my desperation to keep my tears to myself leaving my eyes burning and my throat closing.

My father has been gone for months. The war calls, where my province and many others fight for a cause I lost a lot of knowledge of many years ago. When something exists for that long, it loses all its meaning. Even if my father still goes to fight, to protect our province and to fulfil his duty.

The carriage sways as I slip inside, the door shuddering closed behind me. I'm leaving my life here, my friends, my family, to cross the provincial border into another, where the weather will be cold, and I will know no one. But I am ready. I'm ready for a new life.

+++

A jolt wakes me. My neck is bent at an unnatural angle, stiff and aching. Forcing myself up, I blink past the dim light from the carriage, looking outside the window, which is coated in a vinette of fog. Past it, a faceless flurry of snow, whipping tauntingly against the glass. Pulling my coat tighter against my body, I refuse to acknowledge the pressing realisation that this is my home.

A cold, mountainous range with no hope of escape, except down one dangerously icy road. Pulling the thin fabric of curtain over the window, I lean back. Soon enough, lights bleed through the fabric, announcing our arrival into my new home, in a small town set below the mountain; Whitedale. Fitting. We come to a stop a few moments later, the carriage's wooden wheels sinking into the thick snow, undulating over ice.

We have arrived. Opening the door, I step out, careful of the slick steps before my feet fall ankle-deep into fluffy, perfectly white snow.

Brittle air slams again my face, burning my eyes, as I struggle to read the sign hanging of the building in front of me. Blue Glass Inn. I made it. It's a beautiful sight, after such a long journey. Night has fallen across the town, layering everything from the horizon, to atop the mountains in a glittering set of stars. The inn is magnificent, too. Not too large, made of wooden pillars and stained glass windows engraved with snowflakes and gemstones. Warm, glowing light lures me to the front step, but before I knock, I stop myself short. I have to remember these people are different. Not everyone here is one of them, but they are common enough.

Summoners, they call themselves. They hold the ability to replicate any of their victims appearances to scare them into submission.

However, they are generally peaceful beings, with little even using their powers, instead choosing to withhold them despite its undesirable effects. Knocking on the door, I wait. Seconds tick by, and no one comes to answer.

When I try the door handle, it's locked. Of course. Rounding the building, I opt for a back door tucked neatly behind where firewood is clearly cut. Eyeing the silver glint of the axe lodged in a stump of wood, I tuck my coat closer against my body. The vicious bite of the wind is inescapable, clawing at my skin, freezing me to the bone.

Thankfully, the snow-dusted door handle gave, and I stumble gratefully into the warm grasp of a dark hallway. It takes me a few blind moments of running my hand along the wall to find the light switch.

Light illuminates a wooden floor covered with a red carpet stretching all the way to the end. Dark maroon doors pass me by with each step, as I make my way to where it appears the hallway twists in another direction. And it does, leading me to search for more light switches. A muffled screech and a few whispers causes me to freeze.

My fingers flicking a switch reveal two girls huddled in the corner, eyes wide, skin pale. They both yelp at the sight of me, before their bodes deflate, and one gets to her feet, loosening a stressed breath.

"You must be Akara," she says breathily, raking her hair back with her hands. She's young, they both are. The one speaking to me has dark hair that's loose and wild around her shoulders, but does little to conceal prominent features that appear foreign, until I remind myself they are likely native to this area, and I'm the strange one.

Her cheekbones, jawline, and even her nose are so jarringly sharp, it makes me swallow uncomfortably.

"Sorry I'm late. The snow has been falling non-stop since we crossed the border," I say lightly, hoping my accent isn't too thick so they won't understand me. The girls accent is pretty, feminine and light, the faintest unintelligible lilt to it reminding me I'm not from here. She smiles sympathetically with full, red lips. "I'm Jessa.

This is Fran. Sorry she looks so mortified, we thought you were someone else." Her comment stops me short. Who could they possibly be expecting that would induce such fear in them? Fran's face is stark white, painted in relief with skeptical highlights. Her knees are still hiked up to her chest, covered in loose brown pants that match the fawny colour of her hair. Her features are softer than Jessa's, being much less intimidating to look at. I wonder what they think of me.

"Do you work here? I'm meant to be working as a maid for the next few months," I tell them, although I'm sure they already know. "Yes, we work here, as maids too. The manager is out right now, so it's just the staff and guests here at the moment. I can show you to where you will be sleeping, if you like," Jessa offers.

Already, it's been made clear that she is the voice for the both of them. She motions for me to follow her, my small bag slung over my shoulder. Fran trails at least a few feet behind me.

Turns out, my bed for the next few months is a mat on the floor, squeezed in next to three others. Jessa quickly informs me they belong to the two of them, with the other occupied to the cook, who is also out. Being an only child, I've never had to share anything, but I'm not scared for this. Maybe it will be...fun.

"So who were you so scared of seeing instead of me?" I ask warily. This place makes me more anxious than I would like to admit. With Summoners walking around, I can't shake the uncomfortable feeling that comes with magic.

Even Jessa and Fran could be Summoners. There would be no way of knowing. I watch the two girls glance between each other, a spark of concern shared between them. Without a word, they kneel on their beds. I join them upon my own, pulling my blanket over my legs. This place, despite the fire crackling in the wall, has an eerie chill to it.

The shadows from the blaze lick across Fran's features, casting her already sallow face with an even more fearful expression.

"There is a man. A hunter, who is rumoured to be arriving back in our small village for a few nights. We are one of the only inn's here, so he is bound to reside here," Jessa explains. Her voice may shudder, but I hear the faintest hint of curiosity. It is unlikely anything interesting happens here.

"Why be so frightened? I thought his town would happily offer residence to hunters. There are plenty of them," I say. It's the most common way of sourcing food in a frost covered village. Fran's soft voice catches my attention. "He's not just any hunter, Akara."

Wrapping my coat closer to my body, I tilt my head in curiosity. I don't know much about this place, or the people here, so I'm curious to hear what gossip is being passed around. From only knowing Jessa and Fran briefly, I can already conclude that they don't get out much past their work hours, and rely on the guests that frequent this place to supply them with their own entertainment.

"He hunts a Tani in the mountain. Apparently he does it out of vengeance, but no one really knows why. He's a Summoner too, but doesn't use his powers, which is even more frightening. People think he is saving it for something big," Jessa says lowly.

"He's scary because we don't know anything about him. He has so many weapons, so much power and an unknown motive," Fran cuts in. I'm surprised to hear her voice in such a low tone.

Her eyes are painted with darkness, the seriousness of her expression shown in her furrowed brow and lips pressed together in a tight line. It makes me shiver, a cold that doesn't belong to air outside creeping under my skin. I've never been much for frightening stories or rumours; it was always forbidden back home, stories about our Tani preferred.

"But in reality, it's mostly just legend. As much as I would like to believe it, I've never seen him in my lifetime," Jessa says, leaning backward on her elbows. Something tells me she's saying that to keep herself calm. With the shutters banging against the window, the wind howling throughout the inn, I can't blame her. I don't know anything about this, and I'm frightened too.

"That's because he travels between villages. This is the first time he's come across ours, so we should prepare. He might be here any day now," Fran reminds her. I'm lost. Is he real or not? By the way they described him, I'm not convinced. But Fran appears convinced, even is Jessa remains skeptical, but that could be attributed to her fear.

"The wind blew this rumour in. As frightening as the concept is, we should close our eyes and dream peacefully knowing it's unlikely," Jessa mutters. I had been too busy concentrating on

Fran to realise Jessa was crawling into bed, signally her say in the conversation is over. Fran stares at her friend, a vacant look in her eyes, before she casts her gaze toward me. "Let's just hope she's right."

Days passed by quickly working at the Inn. Under the instructions of the owner of the establishment, Ms Grier, I worked as hard as possible to be as good as Fran and Jessa. Fran is adept in her work, doing everything to a level of perfection I fail to reach. And Jessa is the perfect face of the Inn, her charisma charming every client to stay an extra night consistently. And I'm...getting used to this place. I've started preaching on my days off, knocking on doors and circling through local events whenever I get the chance.

There hasn't been much reaction aside from feigned interest and mutters of disagreement and curse words. Jessa quickly informed me that not many people have a Tani here. The Ice Panther is killed each year during the annual Hunt, and another possible Tani is seen as a dangerous predator. So people haven't taken to me very kindly. However, Jessa and Fran have been kind to me, teaching me the ropes when Ms Grier had little patience for it. But they have been on edge, over these past few days. Jessa tries to appear confident, but it's clear she is anxious about the potential for this Hunter's arrival. The whole village buzzes with anticipation, gossip and rumour circling so viciously that it's instilled fear in everyone. Despite this, I'm not convinced this Hunter is everything people make him out to be. Rumour has it, he's a Summoner who doesn't use his powers, instead using skill and force alone to hunt this creature he has become so obsessed with. I just...can't be behind it. *** A tight grip shaking my shoulder wakes me. It's still dark out, my conception of time skewed all over the place. Jessa's face fills my gaze, her mass of dark curls illuminated by the swinging bulb above her head. "He's here." "Who's he?" "Him. The hunter," she whispers. Sitting up, I feel my heart falter for a moment. The hunter. This is what we have dreaded. We have talked about it for the past week, and now he has arrived. "What time is it?" I question, rubbing my bleary eyes as I sit up. Rain assaults the windows, the sound almost deafening as Jessa helps me to my feet. "Just past midnight. Ms Grier is speaking to him now," Fran whispers. I hadn't realised she had been lurking near the doorway, a burgundy shawl wrapped over her shoulder. The girls impatiently wait for me to pull my own clothes over my shuddering limbs, tapping their feet and whispering between each other. I'm not sure whether my shaking is attributed to this sudden onset of a thundering storm, or whether I'm anxious about the hunters arrival. The myths and legends spun around his name are enough to have the bravest soul cowering in a dark corner. Together, the three of us pad down the hallway, the carpet soaking up the hurriedness of our footsteps. Jessa's eyes glint with excitement, however Fran looks apprehensive. I remember the first day I arrived, when they hid in fear of the hunter arriving. Now Jessa is acting as though it's a sight to behold. "Yes, we have a vacancy. Will a single room do you fine?" It's Ms Grier's voice. It's firm, no ounce of fear to be dug up from the timbre of her tone. She knows well we need the business, so there is no other choice but to offer him a room. Luckily for her, she doesn't have to wait on him. He responds, but his words are lost between a crack of thunder, vibrating through the wooden doorframe I cling to. We hang out of a vacant room used for storage, using the shadows to conceal ourselves. If we peer around the corner just enough, we can see his shoulder and arm, and part of Ms Grier's back. "You'll be in room four. I'll escort you," Ms Grier offers. Silently, we all fall back into the storage room, pulling the door closed enough to leave a crack, a thin strip of dull light streaming through. Fran's face is void of all expression, her eyes vacant. Jessa has a brilliant smile on her face, no longer frightened of this Hunters presence. A floorboard groans right outside our door, the creak of the wood enough to alert us that the hunter passes by. Fran holds my forearm, gripping so tight it burns. It subsides as his footsteps do, the door closing behind him as per Ms. Grier's instructions. I finally loosen a breath. I saw nothing of him, but his presence still lingers in the air. Or maybe that's his scent, like he blew fresh snow and pine with him in through the door. Suddenly the door flings open. The assault of light is accompanied by Ms. Grier's accusatory gaze. "Which one of you are going to tend to his room?" My heart nearly falters at the sight of her, as if she didn't know she was in there the whole time. Ms. Grier claims to not be a Summoner, but Jessa suspects she keeps it hidden for the sake of her customers. Summoners are common enough in this Province, but are still shunned for their abilities. It would hinder business if anyone suspects the stable figure that is Ms. Grier to be a Summoner. "Tend?" Jessa asks meekly. As fair as Ms. Grier has been so far, she not only has an intimidating air about her, but also a look too. Her features are soft with a loose jawline and rounded cheeks, but her eyes are sharper than a shard of ice, and the colour of it too. "I understand it's early in the morning, but shake that brain fog away. Bring him his linen and inquire if he wants any food," Ms Grier demands, looking at everyone one of us in turn. It's basic protocol, but everything feels different with him here. None of us are willing to walk in there and face the monster that rumour conjured up. Except he's real, and we have to serve him. Fran suddenly speak up. "Jessa will do it." "Fran...why me?" she gapes. "You're the one who is didn't believe in him in the first place," she replies. "I was just saying that." Ms. Grier clears her throat, drawing our attention back to her. In her shoulders, I can see the tension, the burden of having this client on her property, his motive unknown clearly getting to her and her sturdy personality. I've noticed recently that she has an obsession with control, that Jessa walks the fine of everyday. But Jessa doesn't have much of a remaining family, so Ms. Grier was her full time carer growing up. "Jessa, go sort through the towels and attend to his room. He's not going to kill you," Ms. Grier demands flatly. "You two go back to your rooms and get some sleep. One of you will be taking Jessa's shift in the morning." Turning on the heel of her shoe, she walks down the hallway, disappearing into the shadows with only her fading footsteps lingering. The girls and I exchange wary glances. "I regret everything I said. Please, one of you take this for me?" Jessa begs, looking between us with widened eyes which seem to mirror our own fear. But as much as I feel bad for her, one of us has to do it, and there is no way Fran and I are going to volunteer. Perhaps we are just being dramatic, and this man is nothing more than a client looking for a room to stay. "No way. Ms. Grier gave you the instructions. If he tries to kill you, just scream," Fran tells her, crossing her arms over her stomach as shivers. It is cold in here, but not from the snow outside. It's like he brought a draft in with him, full of ice, wind and fear. People's fear, from far-reaching places. Jessa glares her way. "Thanks Fran, so comforting." I grab Fran's forearm, looking at Jessa with concern. "Fran and I better go to bed. We have to get up early to do your job in the morning." Jessa tucks her arms around herself, nodding numbly. "He's not going to hurt you. He's probably just like any other client," I assure her. Likely, we let this get to our heads, allowing this rumour to flourish into pure fear. We will tend to him like any other client, he will leave in a few days, and that will be that. "Okay, but do listen out. I will scream," Jessa says, feigning amusement, before she turns away, but there is not any flicker in her eyes. *** I'm woken by Fran's insistent shaking. Rubbing my eyes drowsily, I prop myself on my elbows, looking toward Fran, who wraps a finger through a tendril of tawny hair insistently; a nervous trait of hers that I noticed the day I started work here. She is staring at Jessa, who is shoving a bare leg through loose pants. "Tell us everything," Fran is saying. Sitting up, I let my mind rake over last nights happenings. From the Hunter arriving, Jessa being assigned to his room, me hardly sleeping last night, listening out for screams that never came. "There's not much to tell. You were right, he's relatively normal aside from..." Jessa draws off. She hides her expression by turning to the one small mirror we are forced to share between us. With adept precision, she tangles a rubber-band through her thick curls. Still, I notice the slight quiver in her fingers. "Aside from what?" "Let's just say he's very obviously a Summoner. Very obviously," she murmurs, turning back around. She has rogue on her cheek, lips tinted rose. She looks pretty, but makeup? The three of us have never bothered with our appearances much, aside from touching up enough to satisfy Ms Grier. "What does that mean? Did he say anything to you?" I chime in, my blatant curiosity getting the better of my silence. Jessa frowned. "He didn't say a word to me. He completely ignored me." Of course. Most customers don't bother uttering a word to the staff, but I suppose I thought this time would be different. I'm writing my own story about him, before I've even had the chance to meet him. But how could I not be curious? A man blows in with the wind, carried by the rumours and tales spun around him. A Summoner, nonetheless, which is a very fascinating concept for a foreigner. Fran stands, uncomfortable. "Were there weapons in his room?" "Fran, calm down. He's just a guy, not some mystical hunter with a vengeance," Jessa scolds. It should have settled me, but my heartbeat still flickers. "Ms. Grier says it's Akara's duty to take him his breakfast. It's waiting in the kitchen." Both of their gazes fall upon me. My throat is suddenly bone dry, but does not demand hydration. Instead, it yearns from refuge, away from here, away from the job I'm required to undertake. Yes, I'm curious, but that is as far as that thought strays. I don't need to meet him to have my curiosity waned. It can continue to stray as untamed as possible. "Oh. So I don't need to be scared?" I find myself saying. There is no escape now, just the reassurance that I can enter his room, do my job, and that will be that. I don't need to communicate with him... "Of course not. Unless you're victim to shaky hands in the presence of very attractive men. Then you might be in trouble," Jessa tells me, accompanied by a wink. She seems unbothered now, the shudder in her limbs gone. I'm jealous of that. "I'm not...I mean, I'll be fine." Jessa grabs my arms, smiling at me. "Akara. He does look different. But not all Summoners are bad." I smile back, but I don't know how much I believe her.

The time is now. I have a job to do, and then I'm done. Balancing his breakfast on one hand, I knock promptly on the door. All I have to do is stick to protocol, not disturb him, and this will be all over. And then the door opens. Suddenly this is a bad idea. The tray in my hand trembles, the metal lids on china plates shuddering, soft clinks filling the void of silence. I should have convinced Fran to take his breakfast to his room, as all confidence has leaked from my chest, leaving me deflated and flushed with embarrassment. He stares at me, being so much more than I imagined.

He leans his arm against the doorframe, black long-sleeved tunic thankfully hiding enough of him to tame my wandering eyes. Underneath a fringe of slightly too long, mussed bronze hair, he stares at me, the darkness of his pupil surrounded by a glacial blue fog of cornflower blue. My voice no longer works. He steps back, a flush of scent hitting me. He smells like the wind, carrying the softest hint of pine entwined with an evocative hint of...cinnamon? Either way, it has my head spinning, as he motions for me to step into the room. I do so with shuddering steps, thinking him through in my head. He's clearly not like me. I was born powerless, and I shall remain that way until I die. Him, however, holds restrained power, it's appearance reaching the surface of his skin in the form of an icy blue shading across his temples and forehead. It glimmers and shifts under the dull light of his room, one minute being an Atlantic blue, the next being as silver as the mountains. But he's not just that. Not just the unused power. He's a man, a powerful looking man, with beauty that should exist beyond the realm I stand in right now. His features are not abnormal, but so blissfully Azure Province origin. He has precise, graceful features, from sweeping cheekbones to a jawline like Jessa's; practically cut from glass. Brushing my thoughts away, I lay the tray upon the surface of the desk, careful not to make much noise. I turn back around, expecting him to continue going about his morning, but instead he stands by the closed door, watching me. "Will that be all?" I ask, hating the shudder in my tone. "You're not from here," he remarked. We stare at each other, no words spoken for a brief moment. I'm too busy pondering why he is speaking to me like this...why he would even bring that up. Not once has a customer inquired into my origin. Not until now, I suppose. "Excuse me?" It's all I know how to say. I don't care how handsome he is, I want of here. There is a shadow beneath his eyes, that creeps up to thick, sooty lashes, framing those light teal eyes, that frightens me. But not as much as the colour that rains down from his hairline; that strange marking from restrained power almost like a magical tattoo. "You're not from here," he repeats. His gaze wanders down to my chest, making me flinch. "I can tell a Jade Province born when I see one." Before I can be offended, I realise what he is looking at. My hand touches just below my neck protectively, where a necklace hangs. Admittedly, it's a Jade Province tradition, to wear the necklace at all times past your eighteenth birthday. Something about warding off evil spirits. Each is curated by the leader of your village, fashioned around the traditions of your home. Mine resembles my Tani. An eye, with a green emerald in the middle. I'm not surprised he doesn't recognise me from my looks alone. I got Golden Province looks from my foreign father - fair hair, which since moving here, has leeched a lot of it's shine as it has not seen the sun in weeks, and eyes as blue as the ocean there. "Will that be all?" I practically whisper. Although I refuse to lower my gaze, I can't look at him, instead pinning it past his shoulder, at his immaculately made bed. I was meant to do that. I go to step past him, but he moves in front of me. "You're scared of me." Well when you do things like that, yes, I get scared. "Do you say everything like a fact?" I retort, with less vigour than I intended. It's not the fact he is blocking me in here that is so frightening. I know that if I were that desperate he would let me past. It's the way he looks at me, like he's trying to figure me out. Yet I don't think I'm that interesting to be interrogated by this man. If he ignored Jessa, I don't understand why I would peak his interest so much. There is the slightest tilt to his lips. "You have very fascinating eyes." "I'll take that as a yes." He's toying with me, maybe. Either that or these plain hazel eyes really have taken his interest. That can't be the case, when he's staring at me with eyes touched by snow, silver wind and ice. Cold, consumed in shades of sapphire blue, like the many facets of a real gem. I've met him this one time, and yet I see his spirit. Say what he wants, do what he wants kind of spirit. I've never been so convinced he's what people say he is. A Hunter, in whatever way that means. This time, when I brush past him, he lets me. For the briefest of moments, our shoulders touch, my breath getting caught in my throat. Turning around, I back up a few steps, my hand reaching for the doorframe. "You're not curious?" He asks. With one sweeping look over me, his gaze again finds mine. My cheeks flush red, and suddenly my outfit feels too loose in all the wrong places, hardly flattering at all. But why would I want to impress him? With brown slack pants and a jacket to match, I'm not feminine, or pretty or fascinating. I hate that I care. "Excuse me?" The words come out all bent and shuddery. "The other servant girl had a lot more to say to me than you," he comments. I can't tell if he's taunting me, challenging me or what. "She wanted to know if I'm a Hunter." Maybe it's a trap, but I can't help myself. "Are you?" "Does it matter?" He asks. There. The briefest flicker of vulnerability that looks so foreign on him. I'm assuming he's testing the waters upon arrival here, seeing what civilians say about him, whether he is safe here. I could tell him everyone fears him, but surely by my reaction he's gathered that already. "I suppose not," I murmur, before turning toward the door. "Have a good day sir."