"Cruentus: Chapter One" by Ly M. Frick

The acrid scent of chemicals filled the room, leaving a rather unpleasant burning sensation in the woman’s sinuses.  As irritating as it was, she remained motionless, obeying the commands of her superiors until they allowed her to move.  As they had yet to give her leave for motion, she sat stock-still, not even allowing herself to flex muscles that screamed for release.  This was her station, after all, and nothing as trivial as an unpleasant smell and cramping muscle would cause her to forget her training.  She was of the cruentus and would follow orders unflinchingly.

“There.  You may rise if you deem it fit.”  The husky voice murmured quietly from behind the woman and the soft clink of a bottle being placed onto a nearby table reached the ears of the woman.  Slowly, knowing quick movement would cause sever cramping, the woman in the chair stood and flexed legs that had not moved in some time.  The voice continued as the cruentus continued through the series of stretches and flexes needed to straighten her out.  “When you are through, you should double check it and make sure it is to your standards.”

“It is not my standards it must be to, Betae,” the woman replied evenly.  Regardless, she moved a few feet to her left and gazed fully into a mirror set into the wall of the small chamber.  The face that returned her look was sour, lips turned down into an obviously displeased frown.  “How long will this last?” she quested quietly, eyes flicking over the locks of hair flowing down over her shoulders in waves of honey-blonde.

“For as long as it needs to,” came the reply.  Another face, older and more worn, appeared next to the cruentus.  Her graying hair was pulled back into an orderly bun that appeared as though it had always been there.  The tightness gave a severe cast to the woman’s face, although the younger woman knew better than to assume her companion was as cruel as her hair style.  “Desera will be here soon to explain what else you will need to know.  Are you prepared?”

“Who would be?”  The eyes of the woman turned back to her reflection, frowning at the blonde.  Hours before the coloring procedure had begun, her locks had been the color of oil and equally sleek.  Now, she could barely recognize the woman looking back from the glass on the wall.  It was unnerving and she pondered how long it would take to get used to her new self.

“Éona… can you do this?  The girl, after all, is… well…”  Betae’s brows drew in tightly as she placed a withered hand on the other’s shoulder.  Their eyes met in the mirror and the elder gave an involuntary shudder.  To meet the eyes of a cruentus was difficult, even indirect as a mirror was.  The unusual bi-coloration was only one aspect of the sect.  The single, blood-hued orb penetrated Betae’s own gaze, as if raking through the soul.  There was a power in that eye that few could comprehend without experiencing it.  As terrible as it was, Betae forced herself to focus instead on the violet of Éona’s other eye.

Unblinking, Éona nodded slowly.  She had noticed the reaction but was used to it.  “I must.  It is not as if I could refuse if given the choice.”  An ironic smirk graced the previously frowning lips.  “My nature would not allow me to tell them ‘no.’”

“That’s what worries me.  Come, let us go out into the sitting room.  This room smells too strongly of dyes for my liking.”

Nodding obediently, Éona followed the older woman from the small chamber and into a more brightly lit room.  The soft cushions pilled around the room indicated its purpose more clearly than any explanatory comment could have.  The woman indicated for Éona to sit but in this the cruentus refused.  Instead, she positioned herself against a wall, folding her arms across her chest and leaning back in what could have been perceived as a casual stance.  The elder knew better than to assume that was the purpose, however.  She shuddered again.

For as long as Betae had known Éona, the woman had been the same.  It was not easy to foster a cruentus.  Sadly, the older woman had lost two other fosterlings in the process.  She tried not to think too long on the unfortunately instances that had caused Éona to be effectively an only child.

It was not long before a soft rapping sounded at a door set into the far wall, directly opposite of the cruentus.  As planned, the now-blonde was the first thing to be seen when Desera entered.  The momentary falter was not lost on Éona when the newcomer noticed her and briefly caught her eye.  Betae, in her wisdom, intercepted Desera quickly before Éona could fully command her gaze.

“Please be seated.  We have little time.  You come undetected, I trust?”

“She does.”  Éona’s dark voice replied to the question before Desera could respond.  Her gaze seemed momentarlily distant before she returned her attention to the other women.  “Let’s get this over with so I may begin.”

“Of course.”  Desera took a cushion carefully, arranging her robes around her small person fastidiously before continuing.  “You will leave tomorrow.  A ship will await your arrival at the Northmost Port.  It is scheduled to transfer cargo to the Amana’s Deluce two days west of the Port, after passing into the international waters.  You will steal into their hold and wait for docking at Darmoth in Alamar.  From there, my agent Korqueth will transfer to you paperwork necessary for passage in Alamar.  Included will be a ticket to Bermont.  Intelligence indicates that is your best starting point.

“We shall see.  My weapons?”  The business-like tone in Éona’s voice denoted her professional quality and Desera nodded what would have been imperceptibly to Betae.  Had the cruentus not been trained, she would have missed it. 

“You will relinquish them to Korqueth upon arrival in Alamar.  He will arrange for smuggling into Bermont.”

“Money?”

“Korquel will have a stipend for you as well as the necessary information to access a bank account under your assumed name.  We will fund you for the duration of your mission.  Is that to your satisfaction?”

Éona mused this information over for a moment, not letting her gaze off of Desera for a moment.  It wasn’t as if she didn’t trust the woman.  She knew better than any the woman’s motives for contracting a cruentus and fully supported the reasoning.  Being able to lock gazes, however, would give Éona a certain level of control over the situation, however.  If she could trap Desera in her blood-gaze, she could gain whatever she wanted through the simple coercion her powers allowed.

“Everything seems in order, save my eyes.  As much as my calling stands out here, I can be ignored easily enough.  In Bermont?  They still believe our people are fantasy, myth.  Anyone who sees me will cry demon and our enemies will know I am there.”

“That is why I have brought this.”  Desera reached into her robes and produced a small box. She tossed it toward the cruentus.  Éona caught it expertly, even though the throw had lacked finesse.  “There are enough for a year.  You may sleep with them in.  Each pair is good for three months.  Should you run out, contact Korqueth.  He will get you more.”

Éona opened the box and survyed the small packages inside.  “Contacts?  Will these interfere?” 

“In laboratory tests, there did not seem to be any ill effects.  We have not done any long term analysis, however.  There hasn’t been time.  If it comes to it, tear them out and do what you must.  We trust your judgment.”  At this, Desera allowed her eyes to meet those of the cruentus.  That peculiar feeling of fingers racking her brain was almost instantaneous and she shuddered and dropped her eyes to the ground.  “Betae was right.  You will do well.”

Éona nodded as a reply and tucked the contacts away in the pocket of her coat.  She would put them in later.  Now, however, she had better things to do.  Preparations had to be made if she was leaving in the morning.  Without a word to either older woman, Éona swept from the sitting chamber through the door Desera had come in through.

Left sitting in silence, the elders glanced at each other.  Desera, sighing deeply, broke the quiet first.  “Are you sure she can find her in time?  She is still young.”

Thinking of the fates of Desmond and Belar, Betae nodded sharply.  “I have never seen one born with her skill.  I needn’t remind you of her brothers.” 

“No.  It is a pity, though.  They were promising cruentus.  We could have used them.”

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Éona sat in her bedchamber, quietly contemplating her task.  She would not sleep this night.  It had been two weeks since she had been informed of the reason for her conscription to Desera.  She had wondered many times since then if she had what it took to do this. 

She had been told, when she had expressed her concerns, that it was dire that they retrieve the girl before the regency realized what they were doing.  What would she do when she saw her, though?  It had been ten years….

Shaking her head to clear it, the cruentus stood from her bed and paced the simply furnished room.  Although she had not lived all her life in this room, it was here that she had been raised and here that she felt the most at home. 

“There is no reason,” she murmured quietly to herself, “for her to know any more than necessary.”  Pausing in front of a mirror, the woman studied her new appearance with little amusement.  The blue eyes were as unnerving to her as her blood-eye was to most normal Miasites.  At least her eyes had adjusted to the discomfort of the foreign contacts rather quickly.  It would not do to have to be continually rubbing her eyes in public.

To say that Éona was not nervous at the whole ordeal would have been a lie.  There was nothing that would have made the woman admit that, however.  The last time she had set foot off the island was those ten years ago when everything had gone so terribly wrong.  A routine mission that she was merely observing had gone foul, leaving her with more than one mistake marking her flesh.  The year spent in Bermont had left Éona with more shame than useful experience. 

With mistakes, however, came a good deal of knowledge.  Éona knew exactly what she had done wrong last time.  This time, however, she would not only get the chance to complete an international mission flawlessly, she would undo a lot of damage she had caused before.  Aiding Betae and Desera’s cause would be one more step toward freedom from the regency. 

After all, she thought as her stomach twittered uncomfortably, she didn’t have to tell the girl anything until after they had arrived back in Miasta.  But still… how would she react?  There were too many questions, Éona decided.  With pursed lips, the cruentus shoved those thoughts from her mind.  She had to prepare or she wouldn’t even be able to find the girl, let alone avoid telling her anything that might ruin the mission.

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AN: Okay, so I know this is a bit short.  This is actually based off a strange dream I had that I’ve started trying to put into more conceivable ideas.  I hope this isn’t too disconnected.  I didn’t want to give away too much too soon. 

Cruentus is roughly Latin for blood-thirsty or one who is blood-thirsty.