My Name Is Not Mr. K 🤨
May 31, 2023 3:01 pm
C.L. Carhart has returned from her vacation, but now she claims she's in "recovery" because she walked at least 30 kilometers while on said vacation. In other words, her stamina matches that of a standard living human.
That limitation no longer applies to me, but I remember my exhaustion after spending long days working as a carpenter's apprentice. Therefore, we must offer the author grace for one more week. A vibrant witch of light wrote a missive to you last Wednesday, and today it's my turn.
Apparently, C.L. Carhart's father has chosen to label me "Mr. K." Why he can't seem to inscribe or pronounce my actual name is beyond my comprehension, but the author tells me that in your era, most people spend their days incredibly rushed and overwhelmed. So perhaps "Mr. K" is an understandable label, considering the circumstances.
But my name is actually Konstantin.
Gift of Light — Snippet
If you read Helena's missive from last week, you might remember that C.L. Carhart has crafted an adventurous tale about a sweet witch of light who knew nothing about her heritage—and an undead cursed beast. If you haven't already discerned the truth, that beast is me. 😔
And I'll admit . . . when Helena stumbled into my fortress, my commitment to serving a demon for all eternity wavered.
Extensively.
***
My efforts to put forth a casual façade sputtered as dismay surged into me, body and spirit. How had I not recognized this possibility? After throwing the elder and his son into separate cells in the castle’s dungeon, I had run mystical blood tests on both of them. The elder’s energy lingered just beyond his reach, rendering him a male of Teutonic descent but not a full-blooded Teuton. His young son was less than a half-blood, his elemental water so weak it was nearly nonexistent.
But now a charming maiden whose spirit shone with pure light had crept into my domain, a sphere of blazing magic seething above her right palm. A Teuton witch in full, and she had called the elder ‘Papa.’ He had mated with a witch at some point in his past, long enough to produce a gifted daughter but not to awaken his own element. A conundrum.
As the witch gasped and turned to face me, I summoned the darkness to conceal me as it had the entire time I stalked her path from the antechamber. She had not noticed me then and must not see me now, for I appeared more like a beast than a man. I had not combed my wavy locks in weeks, and the stone horns and claws I had conjured upon my body had become an integral part of me. I was not fit to speak with a Teuton witch as radiant as her.
Her gray irises shimmered with white-gold light as she blinked toward where I hid, confusion crimping her brow. “I’m not a witch. I serve God, not evil.”
“Don’t speak with him. He’s a monster!” the elder exclaimed from his place in the eighth cell along the corridor. “Run home, Helena. Let your light guide you!”
The maiden looked back at her father, her aura threaded with a mixture of compassion and fear. “I’m not going to run home, not without you! Why have you taken my Papa? What do you want from him?” She spun toward where I hid, her magical light shining brighter in her right hand. Trying to cut through my defenses.
“You need not strain yourself. Living magic can’t vanquish death’s supremacy.” I rebuked her in a tone far too gentle for this situation, my attention diverted by her chest. She breathed too quickly, her rounded bodice swelling and receding beneath her scarlet cloak. I caught my own breath as my body reacted to her elegant form. Heat rose in my cheeks and I forgot what I planned to say next.
Get it together, Konstantin, I reproached myself, grateful the witch could not see me withdraw against the far wall. You have to scare her off, then raise an elemental shield so she never comes back here. She can’t stay, no matter how deeply she loves her father and her half-brother. If Nemo returns and finds a Teuton witch here . . . .
The mere idea prompted me to shudder, and the maiden pleaded again, asking why I had taken her father. A gravelly voice broke forth from another cell further down the corridor as the youth overheard the commotion. “Helena? What are you doing here? Holy Mother—” He muttered a Latin prayer, and I wrinkled my nose. Had that non-magical fool been asleep all this time?
The maiden turned to stare down the corridor, crying out when her half-brother’s shaking hands protruded through the cell bars three blocks from where I had confined her father. The elder started hollering at his daughter, ordering her to leave them both, to return home to her sisters. So she has sisters, too, yet she came here alone to search for these men? Interesting. Are her sisters also witches, or are they from the same mundane line as the youth?
“Look, you don’t have to tell me why you took my Papa and brother.” The witch regarded the shadows where I skulked, admirable courage rising in her essence. “But I came here to set them free. Take me instead. My family doesn’t need me. Let them go, and use me for your—”
“No, Helena! That man is a Black Priest! He sacrifices human beings on the devil’s altar!” The elder could not contain himself. He reached through his cell’s bars and snagged the edge of the witch’s cloak. Her focus wavered, the light in her right hand flickering.
“A Black Priest? You mean a—a demon priest?” The glowing sphere floated away from the maiden’s palm as she reached out to touch her father’s cheek.
“You’re her father, and you’ve taught her nothing of this?” Disgust slithered into the edges of my consciousness, and I pressed a hand to my temple. Calm down, I ordered myself. You can’t get angry when there are living humans in your castle. Unless you want to murder that precious maiden by accident.
The elder blathered something about Wuotan’s thralls, and the youth started shrieking from further down the corridor. I placed my free hand to my other temple, my patience dwindling. You can’t take her instead of them, despite her offer to take their place. A Teuton’s not a sacrifice. Just let them all go, and then capture two people who have no families to miss them.
Before I could work out how to say that, I heard myself declaring something else entirely. “So be it. You, Helena, shall take your father’s and half-brother’s place. Come with me.”
Binding my shroud of darkness more securely around myself, I stepped forward and snatched the maiden’s left arm, tugging her away from her father. The elder gave a plaintive moan, but his daughter followed my lead, calling out, “Once he sets you free, go straight home! Please! Hamlet and Oberon are tied in the yard at this end of the corridor. I love you so much, Papa. Werner.”
The males continued beating at the bars of their cells and demanding I see reason. But at this point I saw only the opportunity to open a new world to a Teuton witch who knew nothing about her heritage. A world of elemental magic, blood sorcery, and spiritual mysticism. A world where others appreciated her light for what it was. A gift from the divine.
A gift from the divine. Konstantin, your decision to hide away in this castle has driven you mad. You can’t keep a living witch in a place like this, not when Nemo might show up at any moment. Not when you have to sacrifice two outsiders to Wuotan in a month’s time. Helena said she serves God, so she’ll view you as an abomination. Especially once she sees what you’ve done to your body.
Maybe I should not have taken Nemo’s jeers to heart, when he said I needed to appear more threatening if I was to kidnap unsuspecting people to offer on Wuotan’s altar. I was tall for a man and claimed a powerful, solid element. Plus, I was already dead, no human weapon able to shove me into eternity.
Now here I was with a female Teuton prisoner, pulling her along the winding staircase that led to the main portion of the castle. I had not spoken to her since we left her wailing relatives behind. She had not spoken, either, her quickened breaths implying she struggled to match my brisk pace. The frailty of the living. Their stamina faded after mere minutes of strenuous activity.
Once we reached the main level of the fortress—the center section between the four turrets, a place that housed a variety of empty ballrooms, the chapel, and a courtyard—I paused to give my companion a chance to catch her breath. And to give myself more time to figure out exactly what to do with her. I had sealed our bargain as a Black Priest, accepted her life in exchange for the lives of her father and half-brother. I could not sacrifice her to the demon lord, since she wielded Teutonic magic just like I did. But I would have to keep her here long enough to suggest our bargain meant something. If I let her go, word would spread among the living that this castle’s current master was open-minded, understanding, forgiving.
Nemo would not stand for that. If others believed me weak, our enemies might stage a true invasion. Then there would be carnage. I had wanted a peaceful life, and if it was possible to have a peaceful death on earth, I wanted that, too.
Maybe I could hide Helena in my tower, the northwestern one. That one had a few chambers once used as bedrooms, along with many records written by former Cursed Ones. Histories unknown to the living and mostly unknown to me. For now. Could Helena read the Teutonic dialect? She must read English, or her horses would not be named Hamlet and Oberon.
“So you’re a Black Priest?” Helena’s soft voice tore my attention away from the passage leading to my turret. We stood in a darkened alcove, the stairs to the dungeons on our left. For a prolonged moment, I gazed into her silvery gray eyes, reading gentleness within them along with her fear. Maybe she would not consider me a beast, once I revealed myself to her. Maybe my death had not shut me off from the wonders of the light, no matter what my predecessor claimed.
“I am a Black Priest,” I responded at last, releasing my hold on her forearm. Her gaze dropped to my stone claws as I drew them beneath my robe, her blonde eyebrows coming together. “It seems your father told you nothing about Teutonic magic and customs, let alone why it’s unwise to bait a cursed Teuton priest.”
“Teutonic magic,” Helena repeated, the fingers of her right hand plucking at her linen sleeve. Had I hurt her with my grip? “I’ve read fairytales about that. Elemental magic, right? Stories about the great Prince Otto of München, the Teuton musician who opened time’s gateway.”
“Teutonic magic is no mere fairytale,” I told her, my gaze riveted upon where I had grasped her arm. “Did my claws hurt you? I didn’t mean to drag you so ruthlessly up the stairs. Your father and half-brother were grating on my nerves, and I—well, I have to keep my anger suppressed.”
“It’s fine. I’m sorry about them. They probably assume you’ll do terrible things to me. People in my village say vampires sleep in this mountain, in this castle. Do Black Priests drink blood? Is that where those stories come from?”
Helena clasped her hands in front of her now, the light radiating from her skin and hair a stark contrast to my soul’s darkness. A damned demon’s slave might as well be a vampire. “A Black Priest who resided in this castle years ago had a nasty habit of kidnapping people and draining them dry,” I noted. When the lovely witch recoiled, I quickly added, “But I don’t go out of my way to drink blood, human or otherwise. If the death consuming me grows too oppressive, I separate my spirit from my body for a short trip in the astral realm. A serene dominion of intrinsic life.”
“The astral realm. Separate spirit from body.” The blonde maiden shook her head and drew her cloak more closely around herself, confusion still marring her expression. “If you’re not going to drain my blood, what do you plan to do with me?”
Her shining eyes appeared so innocent I bit my lip until it bled, not wanting to admit the truth. Ordering myself to be strong, I cleared my throat and admitted, “I’m honestly not sure yet. But as I recall, I need to keep my end of the bargain and free your relatives from their confinement. I’ll see to it that they go straight home, like you insisted.”
Helena breathed out a sigh, her shoulders slumping in relief. I gestured for her to follow me to my turret, explaining that she must stay there while she remained in my care. I kept the darkest aspects of my situation to myself for the time being, wanting her to get settled. But when I prepared to return to the dungeon, she asked for my name. And for permission to see my face.
Here goes nothing. Poised to flee from her should she flinch, I released the magic concealing me, revealing my horns and tangled hair. I ducked my chin at Helena and said, “I am Konstantin.”
So how will Helena react when she sees the face of her cursed captor for the first time? Can she see the tortured human being behind my frightening façade, or will she condemn me as a soul fallen permanently from grace?
And what exactly am I supposed to do now that I have a witch in my castle? My demon lord won't accept her as a sacrifice, but I don't think I could bring myself to offer her on the altar, anyway. Her elemental light enchants me, her loyalty to her family a stark contrast to my eternal exile.
I can't fathom how this could end well for either of us. C.L. Carhart promised me a happy ending, but I'm not sure I believe the author. If curiosity compels you to uncover all the details of my story with Helena, make sure to grab your copy of Gift of Light today.
May 31st is the last day you can get Gift of Light from C.L. Carhart's book shop.
On June 1st, Gift of Light will take its place in a limited-time anthology, so if you'd rather find out how my story concludes without subscribing to a bunch of author newsletters 😉, act fast!
(The author tells me some of you live on the early side of the International Date Line, so it might already be June 1st where you're from. Good news is, you've got 13 hours from the moment this missive dropped into your mailbox to snag Gift of Light from C.L. Carhart's book shop.)
More Colonial Williamsburg Pictures
While I work to resolve the problem of protecting an innocent Teuton witch in the castle of the Black Priests, C.L. Carhart would like to remind you that she just returned from a short vacation in Williamsburg, Virginia. In her era, there are a variety of historical settlements there, and she's been learning lots of odd tidbits about everyday life in the 1700s.
This photo brings back memories of my apprenticeship, before the dreaded curse exiled me from humanity. I never had the privilege of crafting a barrel, but maybe I ought to try my hand at it once things settle down.
Now this photo was news to me. Did you know pineapples grow like this? I always imagined them growing from trees. I stand corrected. 🍍
Other Books You Might Like
C.L. Carhart asked me to share two books with you today, one of which has piqued my curiosity. Witches & demons—seems more like reality than fantasy in my world. 🤔 Then we've got an excerpt involving sexy vampires protecting the U.S. president. Unusual concept, but maybe it'll interest you?
Their paths never should have crossed, but now their forbidden love could jeopardize the safety of the entire kingdom.
Kell
In a world where kingdoms are ruled by arranged marriages and demons lurk in the shadows, I'm expected to pick a princess I can't stand and enter a loveless engagement in order to become King.
But when I find myself in the path of a beautiful and mysterious witch who doesn't mind challenging me, I begin to believe that true love might just be within my reach.
Joula
I’ve kept a secret my whole life, and have been able to keep my mother and I safe.
Then one day the prince literally falls into my life and threatens to change everything.
We strike up an unlikely friendship that soon becomes something much more as I find myself drawn to him in ways I never thought possible and his smoldering gaze ignites a fire deep within me.
But with both our fathers determined to destroy our relationship, we must decide if our love is worth risking everything.
Vampires Exist Among Us...
They can alter their aged appearance based on the amount of blood they consume. They move into an area, feed often, and appear young.
Slowly, over time, they alter their feeding and grow older. They do so right under the unsuspecting eyes of humans. Then they fake their death and move on, repeating the process.
Most want to blend into society and live quiet lives. Some want power and control.
The Secret Service Vampire team (codename: COLONY) is a covert team of vampires sworn to protect the President from these rogue vampires.
It's time I set this missive aside and figure out what to do with Helena—a Teuton witch of light who willingly handed herself into my charge. If she knew anything about her people's history and culture, she'd never have bargained with someone like me. If I don't watch myself, I might begin to imagine a shared future between us.
That, of course, is impossible.
No matter what C.L. Carhart seems to think.
Whether you agree with me or not, make sure to get your copy of Gift of Light at the first link below. If you aren't able to read this missive before June 1st rolls around, then keep your eyes peeled for a link to the forthcoming anthology, Dukes of Magic. C.L. Carhart will share the link next week, but her fellow indie authors will probably share it much sooner. 📖
Sincerely,
Konstantin
Get Gift of Light:
https://clcarhart.com/products/gift-of-light-ebook
Get Gift of Air for free:
https://bf.clcarhart.com/6w57qgfhc9
Elemental Bloodlines series:
https://clcarhart.com/collections/elemental-bloodlines-series-ebooks
His Name Was Augustin series: