Aurelia

Written by L.K. Ellis

Aurelia Ironhide decided she was not going to kill today. A very wise decision if she did say so herself, and as she was her most her most trusted advisor, she did.

“It is too nice a day for death,” she tells Cwella, who had enough sense not to laugh at Aurelia. Instead, she kept as still as possible on the gold chair, in a dusty corner of the room, and mumbled, “too nice,” in response.

Outside the sky lit up as a bolt of lightening shot down from the heavens, and an angry boom of thunder vibrated the glass of the windows. Standing before the window, Aurelia watched the light show with a child-like fascination. Her silhouette cut a pretty sight as another bolt flashed, lighting up the dim, candle-lit, room.

What a pretty one she is, thought Cwella, watching as the petite woman placed a gentle gloved hand against the glass of the window. Such a pity, such a waste.

“Why don’t we go outside today,” Aurelia asks the room excitedly.

“Outside?” Cwella clarifies. Being the only one in the room, Cwella assumed the question was meant for her, yet Aurelia was still looking out the window.

“Yes. It looks positively marvelous when it rains, and I rarely have the time to enjoy it.” To further emphasize her point, the pretty woman spun around on the ball of one foot, in a single fluid movement, to face Cwella. Her gloves hands pressed together in front of her chest, in an almost pleading gesture.

Cwella contemplated how she should response. She was told to keep Aurelia contained for the week, just until the rest of their crew returned from handling last week’s mess. A near impossible task and no one had even asked if she wanted it.

“I suppose—” Cwella begins but is abruptly cut off by the entrance of Mytos, whose lumbering size, and superior physical strength, made him someone not to be ignored, even though it was a lie. He was a large man, but as dangerous as a moth in most situations.

Another waste, Cwella thinks, as she often does when she encounters the half-giant. Aurelia found him squished into a too small cage, preparing to be sent up north to be sold. No doubt to be shoved underground to work in the mines, like so many of his kind were. No fresh air or sunlight, which giants need to survive, unlike the trolls they are commonly confused with. Cwella would have given the poor sap three months before he was either crush under a cave in or died from the Weakness. Luckily for him, Aurelia had spotted him and taken a liking to the quiet man who barely spoke the common tongue.

“What is it?” Aurelia inquires coolly, the enduring nature and pleading eyes gone in one flash of lightening behind her.

Mytos’s mouth wobbles open like a gasping fish, unable to function beneath the woman’s pale eyes, that many whisper could turn people to stone.

Aurelia leans back against the window, refusing to prompt the man, intent to stare him down silently.

Cwella wasn’t so patient.

“Speak, or get out,” she snaps out.

Mytos slaps a hand to his chest to force the words out in a puff of combined sounds and syllables, “Lord Elliot’s mens are here.”

Aurelia crosses her arms and tiltes her head, a silent encouragement for him to continue.

Mytos rushes to fill the encroaching silence, “Theys said yous owe thems a thousand golden dukes.”

“Oh?” Aurelia replies, the tone of her voice indicating that she was surprised, even as her eyes hardened into steel. Cwella subtly let out a breath of air to see if it could frost up.

“Theys said it’s blood money”

Cwella frowns at that, “For what? Last week’s skirmish?”

“For the mans theys lost.”

Aurelia clicks her tongue, “I see.”

“Money grabbing bottom dwellers,” Cwella mutters, her voice trailing off when Aurelia gives her a sharp glance. Clearing her throat, she asks, “How many are there?”

Counting on his fingers, he then holds up three, saying “T’ree.”

“Well,” pushing off the window, Aurelia glides across the room smoothly. “Best not to keep our guests waiting then.”

Standing in the foyer are the three men in questions. One was standing pressed against the door, with shifting eyes and a fidgeting stance. Another was a stout man, who was eyeing the gold accents in the room with a sneer framing his mouth and greedy eyes shining feverously. The last was a tall, cloaked man who nearly blended into the shadows, a feat made difficult by the lack of shadows in the brightly lit room.

“Shit,” Cwella mutters to Mytos. “Idiots brought a magus with them.”

Aurelia stops before the small group, her gloved hands folded in front of her loosely. “Good eve, gentlemen. What can I do for you?”

The stout man screws up his pinched face further. “We’ve come to collect what we’re owed.”

“And that is?”

The man gives her a bewildered look, “Money?”

“Money?” She parrots back.

The stout man looks to his companions for support, but they hold back their encouragement. “Gold,” he tells Aurelia. “Lots of gold. You can do that. We were told you can do that.”

“I see,” Aurelia gives him a pleasant smile. Taking a step further into the room, she runs her eyes over the group, her voice soft as she speaks to them. “You came into my home, because you no doubt heard that tonight I would have limited protection. This gave you the impression that I would be bullied into submission by you lot, and give up resources that I do not owe you.” She leans toward them slightly, “Does Lord Elliot even know that you are here? Or in your rushed and idiotic planning, did you also forget to get permission from your leader.”

Pinched face opens and closes his mouth a few times before his voice works again, “You killed a friend of outs, we’re owed—”

“You’re owed nothing,” Aurelia tells him. “Your friend’s death is not my problem. I suggest you leave now.”

“You do not scare us,” The Magus says smoothly, his scarred hands lowering his hood, as he steps forward. “I have heard the tales whispered about you. They do not frighten us. I protect these men.”

Aurelia eyes the bald man, taking in the tattooed runes covering the bare skin. Her bowed lips twitch, wanting to curl in disgust at the sight of him, of what he represents.

“Does this mean you decline to leave,” Aurelia asks, with a soft voice that slithers across the skin.

“It means that we are not leaving until these men are paid what they are owed,” the Magus replied.

Cwella considers the men, slightly shivering from the chill descending on the room, as the Magus and Aurelia consider one another. Outside the boom of thunder shakes the wood of the front door, and the buzz of electricity spreads throughout the room.

“Perhaps we should give them the gold,” Cwella drawls out slowly, her eyes focusing on Aurelia. “As a loan for the man they’ve lost, for the family he’s left behind.”

The Magus grins smugly, dismissing Aurelia to turn his attention to Cwella, “I am glad that we could come to an agreement. Shall we discuss the amount that should—”

“No.”

All eyes turn back to Aurelia, whose gaze had never left the Magus.

The stout angry man gives her a cruel look, “What do you mean ‘No’?”

“There will be no loan,” she tells him matter of fact.

“Your girl just agreed to an exchange,” said the shift eyed weasel in accusation, as he remained standing behind the protection of the others, with his finger pointing at Cwella. His voice had a whistling quality that reminded Cwella of a teapot, and if she wasn’t offended by being referred to as “girl” she would have snickered at the sound of said whistle and wheeze.

“Cwella does not make the decisions here. I do,” Aurelia monotones. “Leave my home.”

“That is not fair!” The stout man shouts out, his face turning an ugly shade of red, as he huffs like a beast. The thick drool collecting around his teeth adding to the effect, as he spits out the words, “we have come for gold. We will not leave without it. If you don’t obey, the Magus will make you.”

Aurelia laughs at them, causing Cwella and Mytos to slowly edge out of striking distance. “Do not threaten me,” she says, her voice icy, her teeth bared. “Your witch is nothing to me. That you dared to bring him her is an insult, one I take very personally.”

The weaselly man shuffles back, his back striking the wooden door with a dull thud, while the stout man’s face displays, for the first time, that he understands the mistake he had made in coming into Aurelia’s home.

“Leave. Now.” She demands firmly. “I will not ask a fourth time. Feel lucky that you caught me in a good mood this eve, it meant that you received two extra chances.”

Lightening flashed quickly, illuminating the Magus as he stepped forward. His pale blue blood dripped from the tip of the ornate silver knife; a pulse beat from the slice in his palm to the beat of the thunder outside. The runes on his head beginning to glow as he connected to the vein of magic his guild possessed. His eyes glare at Aurelia with murderous intent.

“I am not a witch, you damned Blight,” the Magus snarls. “I shall tear those words from your mouth, and burn you until—”

The lightening flashed again as Aurelia bit down on the tip of a gloved finger and slid her hand out with practiced ease. Before the thunder could even answer, that hand was wrapped around the Magus’s throat. The blueish hue of his skin contrasted with the golden one that covered Aurelia’s hands, but no one seemed to notice the dichotomy. They were too focused on the Magus who had dropped to his knees, his face turning purple as he gasped for air that was no longer entering his throat. As the room watched with varying interest, the Magus’s skins disappeared as his flesh and blood were replaced with gold.

With a final gasp, the Magus was gone. In his place was a golden statue, with its hands wrapped around its throat, and its mouth and eyes opened wide with fear. Aurelia shoved it onto its side with distaste, causing the golden statue to land with a deep clunk, a sound that echoes in the shocked silence.

“Your gold. As requested,” she tells the two remaining men. “Take it and get out.”

They were silent as they rushed to obey, seemingly forgetting that the Magus had come to protect them. Their eyes staring in fear at the man who died so that they would be paid, yet they still accepted the gold, rather than abandoning the statue and running to save their own lives from meeting the same fate.

Aurelia’s lip curls in disgust.

Pathetic, she thinks to herself, considering whether to touch a finger to another one, and double the offer of gold. Would they accept it? Two dead friends? Three? How many before their greed is satisfied, or their morality got in the way?

“Don’t come back here again,” she commands the men, as they shuffle out the door with their loot.

Looking at her two companions, she finds Mytos with his ears covered and his eyes pinched closed. Aurelia wishes she could comfort the big man, but it was impossible. She couldn’t bring herself to give him false hope.

Cwella, on the other hand, was standing with her hand on her lucky knife, but her eyes were staring at the wall to avoid looking at the sight of her leader efficiently killing a man. She holds out the glove that Aurelia had dropped sometime during the encounter.

Noticing that neither would look her in the eye, Aurelia couldn’t help but wonder what the rest of her crew were thinking when they left her with only these two for company.

Ignoring the offered glove, that is used to keep her curse restrained, Aurelia claps her hands together. “I think this is the best time to go outside and enjoy the weather. Don’t you agree?”

Without waiting for a response, that would no doubt be negative toward the suggestion, Aurelia glides through the manor toward the gardens.

As Aurelia dances beneath the rain, Cwella sits safely inside. She watches as her cursed leader holds out her ungloved hand to feel the rain on her skin, and as the water that dripped off the sides turned into tiny drops of gold. A sour feeling knotted Aurelia’s stomach tighter with every clink of gold that fell onto the cobblestone.

Aurelia Ironhide decided that she would only kill one person today.

---

L.K. Ellis is the author of Aurelia. This author wishes their name to remain anonymous. L.K. Ellis is a penname they selected to maintain this anonymity. Ellis is currently working on expanding the world she shared within these pages in a full length novel, set to be completed by the end of this year.