The Phoenix: The Slasher of the Ruasar House Part 5

Not all devils are in Hell and not all angels are fated to bless.

In the year of one-hundred and twenty-six of the Basilisk Dynasty, my family had been trying to become Dukes within the Empire, but fate seemed to have another plan for us. We had long taken the Urartu station, yet there were still hidden deaths in the shadows of the trees here. We tried to fight back the monsters, but nothing seemed to be working. For a while, all hope for the family was gone.

We had failed.

And then, my grandfather traveled to the heart of the station, where the Heart Tree lay, and planned to destroy it. If we couldn’t have the power of the Urartu, then no one shall.

As a small child in pure horror, I remember waiting for my grandfather to return to the ship. If he didn’t return by the time the clock counted down, my father was meant to leave him to his fate. Death.

I was sure I had seen my grandfather for the last time, but then he came out of the forest with a smile.

By all the gods of the stars, what have we done?

If I had known what the deal was then and there, I would have killed my grandfather and destroyed our home, but I did not know. I did not know until years later.

Even with the truth, I did nothing to change it. I played the chip, cast the die, and did the same thing.

 

“Come on, get to it,” Nesma mumbled at the book's page. She was no longer sitting back in the chair with her boots up but balled over the book. She was getting close; she could feel it, and it was only a matter of a few more words. “What did he do?”

                She had read all the history of the Ruasar from the rise and fall of the great family. They had everything and were powerful in the Empires of old, but they took up arms with the wrong horse. Lost everything and now, in the pages of the journal, was willing to do anything to get back the glory. But they get it back; how?

 

On my eighty-eighth birthday, the blood had to pay again. I knew it was coming. I had been told for years, and I lied to myself. I said I wouldn’t do it, but as I stood in the estate looking at the wealth and power my family had gained, I knew I would do it.

                My children played with their kids beneath. I watched them in awe and horror. Someone of them knew what had to be done; others had no idea. For those who did not know, I would keep the truth from them. For those who did and who helped me carry little Dahlia to the Heart Tree, we will all meet the devils of Hell in its black sun.

                I will not beg forgiveness. I dare not because we had to give the Heart Tree the blood of my granddaughter.

 

“No,” Nesma said, sitting back shaking her head. Duke Edgar Ruasar, the 16^th, sacrificed his five-year-old granddaughter. She shook her head in disbelief. This can’t be real.

 

Don’t you see, I had to kill her. It was the deal my grandfather made with the Deathless of the Void. Once a generation, blood must be placed in the tree's roots. A male of the family must use the blood of a babe and a girl and the knife. It was a deal.

                It was also a cruse.

                If once failed, something would come out of the darkness to seek revenge for all the souls we have damned. The Sacrificed will come walking for us. Everything the Ruasar had built would be for not. I had no choice, don’t you see, don’t you understand?

 

At the bottom of the page, read in different handwriting; Duke Edgar Ruasar the 16^th hung himself six days after the death of Dahlia.

 

There was more to the book. She was close to the end, but she couldn’t read anymore for a moment. She closed it, drinking a bit of her coffee glancing out the window to the endless rain. She wondered if Cian had carried out the deal.

                She shook her head, thinking about marching back up to the estate and ending his life. And yet, he had said this monster killed all his family. She moved her cat-like eyes over to the girl reading her book behind the counter.

                Nesma stood up, placing her hat on top of her head but leaving the books. She strolled over to the counter. “Miss?” She asked.

                The girl, halfway lost in the world of pages half hearten, looks up from the book. She glanced over at Nesma and asked, “Another cup of coffee?”

                “No, thanks, darling,” Nesma said.

                The response made the girl blink a couple of times, looking at Nesma, pulling her mind free of the magical world in the book. Nesma had guessed she got this simple job for the infinite amount of downtime. It gives her time to read. She almost seemed disappointed to she had to stop now. Nesma understood the joy of being somewhere else.

                “How can I help?” She asked.

                “Would you happen to know,” Nesma asked, “if the Duke had a granddaughter?”

                She thought for a moment and then nodded, “Yes. I think her name is Magnolia, but everyone called her Maggie. She was as cute as a button.”

                “What happened to her?” Nesma asked.

                “Nothing horrible,” the girl said. “A couple of days before all the killings started, Maggie and her family left the station. I heard it was in a big hurry.”

                “Are you sure?” Nesma asked.

                “Yeah, my sister,” she said, “works at the port. She said she saw them leave like they knew the monster was coming.”

                “Thanks,” Nesma said, spinning on her heels and heading back to the book. She didn’t want to grin, but there was something nice knowing that not everyone in the stars was a monster; there were still some good people out there. Duke Cian knew what would happen if he didn’t kill Maggie, and now, Nesma wanted to save him from his fate. She was about to call Zisbuz and Kou when they came blasting into the café, guns at the ready.

                “We have a very big problem,” Kou said, running up to Nesma.