Leilani 

~*~ 

There was a man in my tent. 

                Marco Suarez—or so my messenger had claimed. 

                The man wore a heavy cloak with the hood raised, hiding most of his features from sight.  

                “You are the Princess Vitalis? Commanding General of the Spanish armies?” he asked, his voice soft but deep.  

                Raising my brows, I nodded. After all, it was a sadly true fact. I was the Warrior Princess—the younger half-sister of the current King of Spain, Santiago Castilla the I. But I did not really care about that.  

                Not as the man before me shifted slightly to reveal a concealed pistol.  

                And aimed it straight at me. 

                Crap. Not again. 

                “President William McKinley of the United States of America sends his regards,” he drawled as if this was just another Tuesday for him. And fired. 

                I watched in horror as the bullet sped straight towards my unprotected heart. Good God. This was how I was going to die? Hidden in my tent and taken out by a goddamn infiltrator? 

                Oh, hell no.  

                But I knew that there was no time to dodge or maneuver around it. In fact, all I could really do was sigh a small breath of disappointment and maybe even a bit of relief as the bullet fired towards me.  

                Only…it didn’t hit me.  

                Instead, it just phased right through me. Like I wasn’t even there at all, defying all sense of logic and reason.  

                What the actual hell? 

                When I looked back at where the cloaked man had been mere moments before, he was…gone—as if he’d vanished into thin air.  

                Which was…impossible. Right? 

                Right. Except, my answer didn’t fill me with nearly enough confidence as it probably should have. 

                But the space wasn’t empty, for, standing there, exactly where Mr Suarez had been mere moments before, was the most beautiful man I’d ever laid eyes on. With wavy black hair and sinful dark eyes that almost, somehow, seemed…warm to me – which was absolutely preposterous.  

                And yet, it felt oddly…true. To me, at least. 

                I stared at the newcomer skeptically. Is he the one who tried to shoot me? Or is this somebody else? 

                I didn’t know how, or why, but somewhere deep down inside of me, I knew that I could trust him. That he wasn’t the one who had attempted to kill me. 

                Which was odd considering the fact that he was a stranger whom I’d never met before just standing in my tent. But still, my gut was rarely ever wrong. 

                God. Maybe there was something wrong with my head instead.  

                I mean, a freaking bullet had just phased right through me and then this new mysterious stranger had popped up from nowhere whilst my attempted murderer was now on the loose.  

                Yep. Something had definitely stuffed up somewhere along the way.  

                “You alright?” the newcomer asked, his voice a deep timbre. “You look like you’re about to faint.” 

                You don’t say. 

                But instead of saying something that I’d undoubtedly regret later, I merely said, “Yeah. I’m…fine.” 

                Liar, I could almost hear my internal monologue declare. Such a freaking liar. Hell. That wasn’t even the most important freaking question.

                “Wait.” I blinked. “Who are you?” 

                A mere ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. And yet, my heart still skipped a beat. How can anyone look that good? It should be a sin.

                “I’ve gone by many names over my lifetime, but you may call me Malachai.” I didn’t know what to make of that. Who even said that nowadays? I mean, who would even have ‘many names’ in their lifetime? Humans don’t even live that long—not in the grand scheme of things at least. 

                “And who, may I ask, are you?” the stranger questioned, the sound of his voice doing weird things to my stomach.  

                But I couldn’t let myself focus on that feeling. I was the general of an army. No man would ever see me at his feet.  

                Squashing down my initial reaction to tell him no, he may not, I stood a little straighter. Squaring my shoulders, I lifted my chin, doing my level best to look down my nose at Malachai – even though he had a good few inches on me. “I’m General Leilani Vitalis, half-sister to the current King of Spain, and the Commanding General of this army.” 

                Malachai blinked before the ghost of a smile from earlier turned into a full-blown grin. “Ah, just the woman I’m looking for.” 

                But the heart-stopping display didn’t last long before he was once again sombre and mysterious. God damn it. If only I could see such a thing last. 

                “And why would that be?” 

                “Because you’re in danger, your highness.” 

                I opened my mouth to argue—I mean, who’d be dumb enough to attack me in the middle of a bloody army for crying out loud? But then again… 

                “You and your army,” he added hastily, as if he knew exactly where my mind had immediately gone.  

                Damn. Had I really become that much of a cocky bastard? And was I that transparent about it, too? 

                Then Malachai’s words fully sunk in.  

                Your army is in danger. 

                Holy crap.  

                No. 

                “Now you really do look like you’re about to faint.” A smirk glinted on his face, but I couldn’t help but notice the genuine concern in his gaze as he held out a supportive hand, though. 

                Why does he care? 

                But I didn’t exactly have the luxury to dwell on the matters of my heart in that moment. Not when my army faced some unknown danger.  

                Instead, I shoved past Malachai to my tent’s flaps.  

                Poking my head out, I signalled to the nearest soldier on guard duty before demanding in a quick, hushed tone, “Gather Lieutenant Generals Martinez, Angelini and Lopez, as well  as Major Generals Rivera and Garcia.” I paused for a second before reluctantly adding, “And  get General Alfaro, too, whilst you’re at it. Please.” 

                I watched, my gaze full of sympathy, as the guard’s face paled at the mention of Joaquin Alfaro. But he merely nodded quickly, not saying a word before disappearing into the star covered camp where my army slept. 

                At least I wasn’t the only one who thought Joaquin was a real pain in the behind. God. This was shaping up to be a very interesting night. 

~*~ 

For the love of God. Why did I ever think it was a good idea to invite Joaquin Alfaro to my impromptu little war council meeting? 

                I mean, what the actual hell was I thinking? 

                Three hours in, and we were getting absolutely nowhere.  

                Malachai had answered my questions without hesitation. But beyond that, we’d done nothing.  

                All we knew was that in two days’ time, twenty-thousand American soldiers would march on the Plain. At which time, my army would still be right in its path as ordered by my goddamn brother.  

                Which is what Joaquin kept pointing out over and over like a broken record. What had I gotten myself into? 

                I didn’t even know whether Malachai’s intel could be trusted. But, at the same time, this was the sort of information that I couldn’t just ignore.  

                Everyone’s lives were on the line, and it was up to me to decide whether to act on it or  not.  

                That is, if Joaquin ever shut his big mouth for more than two freaking seconds. “But the King ordered us here whilst we wait for new information,” Joaquin argued, his chest puffing out slightly as if he was some animal in a fight for dominance. Or a puny little man whose ego was on the line. 

                “Yes. I get that, General. I really do,” one of my best friends in the entire world, Carmen Martinez, said. “But we are in danger. We are sitting ducks where we are and General Vitalis has the means to get us out of here as fast as possible. We should just go over the King’s head and deal with the goddamn consequences later.” 

                Carmen punctuated the last few words with a pound of her fist against my little desk. I couldn’t help but smile as Joaquin’s face went a bright shade of red.  

                Until everyone turned to me.  

                Clearing my throat, I leaned my hands against the surface of the table we were all crowded around. “Okay, look. It’ll be our decision whether we push forward or retreat. But know that we should not take this decision lightly.” 

                Looking into each of their eyes, I continued, “So, either we can push forward and catch them unawares – but we’ll have to go now if we’re to make it in time. Or we can retreat, and I will get a message to King Santiago as soon as humanly possible.” Taking a deep breath, I could feel my stomach tightening in preparation for a fight. “But, as per usual,  nothing will be decided until a majority has been reached.” 

                With that, Carmen stepped forward, her face grim and her deep brown eyes cold in a way that I’d never seen before in all my years of knowing her. “All those who wish to retreat, raise your hand.” 

                I let out a small sigh of relief when Carmen, Angelini, and Garcia all held their hands up high.  

                “And all those who wish to remain here?” Carmen’s voice rose in pitch in obvious show of how ludicrous she thought the idea was—and she wasn’t alone. But I couldn’t say exactly that. Because there was, in fact, a reason as to why I established a democratic system similar to what they had in America – much to Santiago’s never-ending displeasure. 

                But that didn’t stop them as Rivera, Lopez and—of course—Joaquin all raised their hands.  

                Leaving me as the deciding vote.  

                Damn it.  

                At least it's not up to one of the idiots in the room… 

                Okay…  

                On one hand, Santiago would probably have my head if we abandoned camp. He’d said as much before I’d left on this campaign – which I couldn’t exactly blame him for doing so considering my…minor history of doing exactly that.  

                But on the other, thousands of soldiers were currently camped out around us. Thousands of sons and daughters; husbands and wives… 

                They couldn’t die. Not on my watch. 

                Not if I could help it. 

                Although, there was still the chance that Malachai was feeding us false information. But as I looked up to where Malachai was currently hiding in a shadowy corner of my tent, I knew, deep down, that every single word he’d told me was true. 

                We were in danger. And we would all die if we stayed put. 

                Before I could say anything, though, Garcia raised a slightly quivering hand. “I would like to change my vote to staying put.” 

                Rolling her eyes, Carmen sighed through her nose. Her voice was a reluctant grumble as she declared, “The stays have it.”  

                Her words barely pierced the ringing in my ears, though. My thoughts were moving so fast it was a wonder that I didn’t break down right then and there. 

                But no matter what I thought about or where I looked, there were always the same two thoughts that accompanied: holy crap. We were going to die. 

~*~ 

The night air was warm if not slightly humid outside my tent.  

                And yet, it did nothing to ease the chill that was slowly creeping into my heart. No sooner had I left, though, did Malachai come up behind me, walking as silently as a bloody panther or something. But I didn’t have it within me to be scared or frightened or even freaked out.  

                “So, you’re going to retreat?” he asked, hope apparent in his tone.  

                But I merely sighed. “No, we’re staying.”

​

                I could almost feel his horror—it was a living, breathing, palpable thing. “But…you’ll die. You have to leave.” He shook his head slowly before repeating softly, as if to himself, “You have to.” 

                “That’s not how a democracy works,” I muttered, shaking my head.  

                And God, there had never been a time where I’d hated it more than in that exact moment.  

                “Oh, come on, princess. These are your people, so why aren’t you doing more to protect them?” he snapped. Almost like he actually cared. 

                Which was so bloody ridiculous that I couldn’t help but snap, “Why do you care? It’s not like you are part of this goddamn army. So why are you here, Malachai?” He seemed to pause for a second – just one, but it was all I needed. 

                “Why are you really here?” I demanded. “To spy? To steal? What really brings you to  San Juan Hill?” 

                “I-I don’t know.” 

                God, he was actually stuttering.  

                In the few hours I’d known him, Malachai had easily become one the last people that I’d ever thought I would hear stuttering. Even when I was questioning him, he had not stumbled once. And yet…here he was. 

                I shook my head and started off in a random direction. “Don’t follow me,” I ordered over a shoulder, hoping beyond common reasoning that he’d listen. 

                Shockingly, Malachai did no such thing. Much to my ever-growing annoyance and his undoubtable hubris. Instead, he latched onto my hand before bringing me to a stop. Only, instead of saying anything, he merely brought his lips to mine and kissed me. And, for some odd reason, I quickly found myself melting into his hold. It was almost as if I knew, on some deep and unconscious level, that I was safe with him. That I was wanted. 

                Which was a first, I had to admit.  

                I’d never felt wanted. Not by my mother, my brother, or…anyone, really. But, somehow, I did then. With Malachai’s strong, muscled arms sweeping around me, holding me close as if I were something precious.  

                It was strange. Exhilarating.  

                And I loved it. 

                As I took a deep breath through my nose, though, I couldn’t help but notice a strange scent wafting off him.  

                It was sweet—sickeningly so. And… familiar. 

                God. It was a I’d only smelt once before in my twenty-one years of existence on this plane of hell. Death.  

                Pulling my mouth from Malachai’s, I looked at him in horror. 

                “What?” he asked, his brows drawing close as he gazed at me with concern. “What’s wrong?” 

                I knew it went against every societal expectation, but I had to know. “Why do you smell like death?”  

                Either I was severely overreacting—which was entirely possible—or…he was dying. Just like my mother. 

                The question seemed to take him by surprise. He blinked. “How do you know what death smells like?” 

​

                Images of my mother as she’d slowly withered away at the hands of the plague flooded my mind. My tiny hand as it clutched hers whilst she’d coughed again and again; the stench that’d appeared in her final days.  

                The stench that clung to Malachai. 

                But his question struck a chord of peculiarity in me. 

                He didn’t seem to be remotely surprised that I’d picked up on or said something about  it. No, instead, he’d asked how I knew.  

                Something was off.  

                And God. How hadn’t I seen it before? 

                “Just answer the question.” I sighed, already fed up with this conversation. But I…I  needed to know.  

                “Because I am Death.” 

                Holy freaking crap. 

                No wonder he’d known the enemy’s movements; why he’d just seemed to appear from nowhere… 

                “How could you just withhold that sort of information?” I demanded. But then another thought took front of mind – a really bloody damn good question that seemed to override any sense of common reasoning that I had left. “And why the hell are you even trying to warn us,  anyway? Especially if we’re destined to end up citizens in your twisted empire?” 

                Malachai—Death—shook his head. “I don’t know.” His brows furrowed as he frowned like that little fact perplexed him or something. 

                But I’d had enough.  

                Anger pounded through me, boiling my blood as my heart thundered. God, I was so freaking sick of this.  

                Screw him and the lies he’d told. Screw his entire cursed realm. Screw everything. “I swear that I will never darken your doorstep so long as you rule the Underworld,” I spat, tears clouding my vision. Each word was harsh, dark. But God. It was true. It was all so true. 

                Because, somehow, this betrayal hurt. I’d only known the man for a handful of hours, so it made absolutely no sense. Especially after I’d been betrayed over and over again by so many people that I’d lost count. Which then begged the question: why? Why did it hurt so damn much? 

                But I didn’t ask that. 

                I couldn’t.  

                Otherwise, I would break down, right there and then. And if there was one thing that I couldn’t allow, it was that.  

                So, without saying another word, I turned on my heel and walked away. Never looking back – even as I felt my heart breaking into a million itty, bitty, tiny little pieces. 

Malachai 

~*~ 

I couldn’t bear to watch as Leilani led her army straight onto the Plain despite everything that I’d told her. Everything I’d confessed.  

                I couldn’t barely stand to watch as her soldiers slowly fell as the enemy advanced until there was no one left.  

                Until not even Leilani herself remained. 

                But I did.  

                I made myself watch as they died, falling like stalks of wheat. I watched as the princess took her last pained and final breath. The way her once-bright hazel eyes closed as  her healthy, golden skin had dulled to a grey pallor, her long brown hair losing its luster. And then I broke.  

                I begged and screamed as I cursed Life for taking such a wonderful, bright person away from such a wretched earth. For ending her life so young, after everything she’d survived.  

                Because even though I’d never admit it to her, I had watched her as she’d grown, always drawn to her presence no matter where she went, who she went with, or what she became. I was transfixed; always had been, and possibly always would be, even with her in the afterlife with me.  

                There had been a spark to her—which was probably why I’d damned everything to hell that night two days ago when I’d warned her. When I, for some stupid, illogical reason, kissed her.  

                The day that everything inside of me shriveled up and died as she walked away from me, never looking back.  

                But when I finally pulled myself together and went to Death’s Doorstep later that very same day, there was no sign of her in the swarming mass of her army. 

                The space was dark, with the only colour in sight being the eight marble-like bone pillars that surrounded Leilani’s army in a complete circle. The outskirts – to the untrained  eye – seemed to move, though I knew that it was actually because the wall-like sides were made up of the midnight hued black cloud that I liked to call the Veil – as it kept the newly dead in and veiled the rest out.  

                Which was something that definitely had something to do with some of the new arrivals shivering—or puking—with fear upon first sight. Not that I was complaining since the magic cleaned itself up after the perpetrator was gone—it simply just provided me with entertainment.  

                The Veil not only shielded the rest of the necropolis out, but also stretched out across the bone white floor I knew lay beneath, too; seeming for all the world like a perpetual fog that just…existed. It skated harmlessly over the muddy and bloody boots of the soldiers around me, though I did note that a few of those around me looked queasy at the sight. 

                Yet, despite the Veil, there was no need for extra light sources, the space lighting itself. It was something that had always perplexed me since its creation, like the place itself had a sentience of its own that my magic had inadvertently given it.  

                “Princess?” I couldn’t help but call, my voice laced with power as I fuelled a miniscule fraction of my magic behind the words. Because one of the greatest things about  being Death was that I could summon anyone who had passed from the living. It was definitely a useful ability – one I’d used a time…or a thousand. 

                Only…no one answered.  

                Huh. That should have worked… 

                Maybe something just went wrong. I was in quite a heightened emotional state after all; I wasn’t too ashamed to admit that. It was just a fact. 

                “Leilani?” I tried again, using her given name this time.  

                Again, no reply. It was almost as if she truly weren’t here.

                As if the words she’d spat at me mere nights ago had come straight from the heart. As if she’d truly and irrevocably meant every single one of them.  

                But that is impossible.  

                She shouldn’t have been able to do that. No one could.  

                Unless…  

                No. It wasn’t possible. Not for a human, at least. Not for Leilani.  

                I’d know.  

                “Leila?” I heard someone with a distinctly feminine voice call. A familiar feminine voice. “Leila? Where are you?” 

                “Leilani Vitalis?” I tried again, funneling even more power behind each word, but to no avail.  

                What the hell? 

                “Leilani Daniella Evelyn Maria Alejandra Vitalis, where the hell are you?” that voice called out.  

                But something was different this time. Now that voice was raw with desperation as the unknown, unseen woman called out over and over again, pain coating her tone more and  more with each shout. As if her heart was breaking; shattering into a trillion tiny pieces just as  mine was, despite not even knowing why. 

                It was like some wretched beast had taken what was playing through my own mind on a loop and made it into a living, breathing reality for someone else.  

                Oh God no. She couldn’t have… 

                “Leilani?” the stranger’s voice cried. “Leilani, where are you?”  

                I could feel my heart slowly sinking with defeat as the realization dawned on me. Or maybe just as I finally accepted it. 

                By Vita’s powers, she’d actually done it. She’d actually managed to evade the hell hole that I called home—the afterlife.  

                But that means… 

                No. No, no, no, no, no! 

                She’ll be lost forever. No. I couldn’t let that happen.  

                And yet, there was nothing I could really do. I may have been Death but…there was no bringing a soul back from the Abyss. Not even a willing one—something I doubted Leilani Vitalis ever would be. 

                Holy shit. 

                I collapsed to the floor, not caring that those of Leilani’s army within eyesight were staring at me like I was some kind of anomaly in the world. Then again, I kind of was. I always had been, and that wasn’t about to change just because my life had. 

I was Death himself, and yet, I couldn’t even save one princess from the Abyss because of her own stupidity. What the actual hell? 

                How stuffed up was that?  

                It was useless. I was useless. Despite everything. 

                “Leilani!” that voice from before cried, cutting through my massive wealth of self loathing.  

                The crowd of soldiers shuffled around me until a half-wild Carmen Martinez broke free. Her head swung from side to side erratically, clearly searching for something—or someone. 

                The Lieutenant General tipped her head back slightly, her eyes squeezing shut before she screamed louder than before, “Leilani!” 

                Ah. The other voice. 

                But then Martinez whipped around until she faced me, a look of pure death covering her features – how ironic.  

                “You,” she snapped as she pointed to where I now cowered on the floor. Good god. What had become of me? I was Death himself for hell’s sake. And yet, I still couldn’t find it within me to pick myself up and face her head on.  

                “You did this,” Martinez growled as she stalked towards me.  

                Wait: me? She was blaming me for this colossal stuff up? 

                “Where is Leilani?” Martinez demanded, her amber eyes seeming to heat with some fierce inner fire. “Where. Is. She. Mortem?” 

                I couldn’t do anything but shake my head slowly, sadly, not daring to note the Latin use of my name. “I do not know,” I breathed. “I am sorry Lieutenant General Martinez.” My words were genuine, but none of that seemed to affect the raging woman before me.  

                There was definitely a reason as to why she, along with Leilani, had risen in rank so damn fast. And it wasn’t just because of an accident of birth.  

                They were both fierce and competitive. Strong. And not just physically. It was something I’d always admired as I’d watched them train together. Something I’d only truly seen a handful of times before, despite living for so that I honestly wasn’t sure how old I was anymore.  

                Something genuine, real and infinitely rare enough that it could bring about the only true power humans could possess—hope. 

                The rest of Leilani’s army seemed to shift uncomfortably, as if this outburst from Martinez was completely irregular. As if they didn’t know how to handle a situation such as this—and, to be honest, I didn’t either, but I wasn’t exactly being given a choice in the matter. Unlike them. 

                Martinez stalked towards me, an accusatory look in her eyes. “Leilani told me  everything,” she growled. “Who you really are, how she figured you out…”  She was close enough now that I could smell her breath as she said, “She even told me what she said to you before walking away forever.” 

                I swear that I will never darken your doorstep so long as you rule the Underworld. I could still see the way Leilani had turned away, pretending she wasn’t crying as she ran. Leaving me lost for all eternity.  

                God, why had I been so stupid? Why had she been so stupid? It didn’t make sense. Surely, she knew what the consequences of doing such a thing would be. Or at least had a goddamn inkling.  

                Wait… 

                I swear that I will never darken your doorstep so long as you rule the Underworld.

                My God.

                “She did it.” I couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that burst from my lips, seemingly of its own accord. “She actually did it.” 

                Martinez seemed to pause, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Did what?” she snarled. “What did you do?”

​

                I could already feel the tears pressing into the backs of my eyes, stinging and burning, begging to be let free once more.  

                But I couldn’t.  

                Not here, in front of people who were now my brand-new subjects. And definitely not in front of Martinez who seemingly blamed me for the actions of her best friend. “I didn’t do anything,” I bit out. “This was all Leilani’s doing.” 

                The words left me empty, hollow. It was as if finally voicing my suspicions had just made the entire situation a reality.  

                A reality where the woman I’d watched and slowly, irrevocably fallen for over the past twenty-four years had chosen an endless suffering of a death sentence rather than visit my kingdom with me still in it.  

                Oh, princess. 

                I could feel my throat closing up as my tears threatened to spill over. But I managed to externally remain as cool, calm and collected as possible as I turned on my heel and left Carmen Martinez curled up where she now lay on the floor of Death’s Doorstep. But it didn’t last long.  

I’d barely just made it back to what I liked to call the Observation Auditorium when I fell to the floor and finally let my tears fall. 

                A tormented sob worked its way up my throat before slipping free. 

                God. She’d actually managed to do what no other had even come close to in all the many years I’d existed on this plane of torment and misery.  

                She’d defied me, the God of the Underworld. Death himself.  

                So long as I sat on Death’s throne, she would stay in the Abyss. 

                I should be proud, really. After all, there had to have been a reason my attention had always snagged on her.  

                So then…why did it hurt so goddamn much?  

                I guess I’ll never know… 

                But, somehow, that answer wasn’t enough. And I knew it never would be. Because, for as long as I ruled, Leilani would be gone. And if I didn’t rule, I would be gone. 

​

                What had I done?