by D L Goddard
“But killing me won’t make Arahir love you truly; in fact if I do have his heart … won’t it make him hate you more? If you really want to win his love … why don’t you be merciful and let us all go home. Maybe that will.”
A desperate hope filled Arahir’s chest, wildly hoping Anya’s words would sway the Enchantress. But her next words crushed his hopes completely.
“No … I think I will kill you instead. Arahir is mine now whether he wants to be or not. He can’t change that no matter how he feels. I will feel happier if his previous soul mate wasn’t alive constantly reminding me that he is still your true love. You see … I hate to be second in anything and knowing I wasn’t even that to the man I want is enough to make me truly enjoy your death.”
The Enchantress was bored with all the chatter.
“Arahir my love” She walked over to the handsome man and wrapped herself around him.
“Do you want me more than anything and anyone else my love?”
Arahir had to answer truthfully for he was bound. She did indeed fill him with lust every waking moment as part of the bond and he could not get enough of her.
“I do my love. I want you every waking moment of every day for our bond has made it so.”
Lirima purred to hear him call her ‘My love’ … it sounded so wonderful falling from his perfect lips. Only he knew the Enchantress had ordered he call her by constant endearments as he spoke to her. She knew he didn’t really like it, but the captives didn’t know he had no choice and the shock on Anya’s face made the lie worthwhile.
“Well my dear heart … I’m rather tired of your old soul mate. Do you think you could just go and kill her for me?”
Arahir’s face stayed blank through superhuman effort. Shock filled him and his mind was racing to find a way around her words that would allow him leniency.
“I am a Keeper of Peace my love … I have never yet killed anyone and it goes against my task as Keeper and the Keeper’s Peace. Would you have me go against my own nature for your vengeance?”
Angrily … Lirima glared at the Keeper. She had expected some resistance but not that he would try to get out of it altogether. He was hers after all. He was meant to do ‘everything’ she asked. Well … he was going to do this for her, like it or not. She would not let him get out of this particular task she had set him.
“Arahir …”
His head came up reluctantly. He was still trying to find a way out.
“Look at me … Listen to my words. Are you listening?”
Arahir froze sensing the death of his beloved Anya in her next proclamation.
“I want you to go to Anya and I want you to kill her for me. Choose any of the weapons behind you; it would be rather ironic to use one of their own weapons to kill their companion now wouldn’t it?”
The captives’ ears pricked at the mention of their weapons. Looking around the throne, they could see the pile of swords and the Troll King’s axe with daggers and wicked little hand knives all in an untidy pile where they had been obviously dumped by someone. They all wondered whether there would be any way to reach them if they managed to distract the Enchantress long enough.
“Regardless … use what you wish. Just make sure it’s effective. I want her lying on the marble flags … dead … do you understand? Do you think you could try and do that for me please?”
Arahir smiled a positively feral look. He had to do what they had worked through. But Lirima had unwittingly given him an out … she had asked that he ‘Try and do that for her. Well … Arahir would try … but she gave him some margin for error. He would try … but he wouldn’t succeed even though to all intents and purposes … Anya would be dead.
She hugged him fiercely and he managed to look as if he was reciprocating. But he was running everything through in his mind. There could be no mistakes. If the slightest thing went wrong, she would die in reality. All Arahir wanted to do was give the best performance of his life so she would feel secure and help him kill her. It was a big ask, but encouraged by Seren and the Light, he knew he could do no less.
**********
Chapter Thirty-Five
Arahir walked stiffly up to Anya. He felt more than saw the barrier between Anya and himself dissolve. Watching her sweet face, her bottom lip tremble even though he knew she was trying to be brave, he smiled back. He placed himself so that Lirima would get an unobstructed view, but would not see his face. He wanted to offer Anya all his love and support, helping her to trust him in spite of the pain he would cause her. There was no way he was going to let Lirima really see what was in his heart while he was ‘killing’ his beloved.
He pulled her into his arms ensuring it looked like he was being rough when it was all play-acting. Pulling her around so that both their faces were hidden as the ‘Queen’ sat on her throne; he managed a quick kiss while Lirima was shouting at the hecklers who were hurling obscenities in her direction. The Troll King and Marcos with the Wizard were being so offensive and so insulting that Lirima was spending nearly all her energy screaming at them. How tempted she was to drop the barrier and just blast them into nothingness. But it wasn’t time. She wanted to see Anya die first.
The twins stonily watched Arahir. They were so worried they would not be strong enough to bring her back. Bracing themselves for what was to come, they stood rigid, side by side, their fists clenched. They were not the least bit distracted by all that was happening around them; their world had narrowed to the beautiful woman who lay in Arahir’s arms.
“I’m sorry this will hurt my love, but if it doesn’t look painful and authentic … she will have no hesitation in killing us all.”
He was whispering as he tipped her head over his arm. Anya’s eyes were huge in her face, pulling him in. He could see only her.
“I know my love … I know. I realize how hard this is, but I am going to remember our conversation and cling to our love.”
“Anya please remember what I told you. As soon as the pain gets too much, ‘die’ and cling to my life spark. Stay there where you will be surrounded by my essence. She will not be able to detect your life spark. Join to mine, become one with me and you will live. The twins will bring you back. Please … do not leave it too long. I know we have to give a good performance, but don’t let yourself get too weak to hide.”
“I love you my darling Beast … I always will. Do not blame yourself for this … she has given you no choice.”
“Are you ready my love? Remember you are my life, my soul, my world. I will never forget you my Anya.”
Arahir felt rather than saw Lirima getting impatient. All she had seen was Arahir pull Anya roughly toward him, bending her over his arm while her heart was under the other outstretched hand.
“Arahir … get on with it. This is taking too long to begin. The rebels are getting restless and I want to shut them up.”
Arahir looked up, his face carefully expressionless. He nodded … then returned to his hated task. At the back of the room … the heckling and outbursts began again, but outrage was the underlying feeling as they desperately hoped Arahir would not carry through with their plan. They were all so very afraid for Anya who lay unmoving, not protesting anything her Beast was doing to her.
Suddenly, a magical shimmer could be felt in the room as Arahir brought a deep indigo ball of power to bear in his large hand. He held it slightly above Anya’s heart. For one moment … there was real fear in Anya’s gorgeous green eyes then, she looked straight in the beautiful face of her Beast, drowning in his eyes. His hand moved … but Anya didn’t see exactly what happened because she was looking at her beloved. The pain flared sharp, exquisitely painful … Anya screamed.
Her body throbbed and convulsed as she felt as if her fire was being torn from her. Anya felt as if all the flame that made her who she knew herself to be was being drawn slowly, agonizingly painfully from within her body. Never had she felt anything like this … even losing her soul mate had not caused such excruciating pain. Arahir
knew and had tried to warn her, but nothing he could have said would have prepared her for this.
She heard a warm gentle voice whispering inside her persistently pushing her to remain conscious. Arahir knew if he felt her black out, they would lose her. Nothing would bring her back to them. But if she remembered to hide within the life spark, that tiny part of her … the minute flicker would live to be warmed and reignited. Arahir pushed at her mind, feeling her phase out.
“Anya … Anya … I know its bad love, but it’s time to go. Come on my love, focus darling, focus.”
She mentally shook her head, focusing on his words, his loving warmth. She followed his love all the way to the tiny spark she held in her heart. Anya felt her life disappear into the tiny flame that flickered inside her chest. Remembering what Arahir told her, she focused until her life was drawn into itself then, all there was of Anya was the flickering flame. She felt her life join to his as Arahir’s flame enveloped hers. Anya felt safe, secure and completely free from her body. All her world was one flame, Arahir and Anya blended as one.
Anya lay fallen over Arahir’s arm. The screaming had stopped, her head had fallen sideways, eyes closed, and an arm flopped loosely. Arahir lowered her gently to the floor. He brushed her hair from her sweet face which appeared as if she was sleeping. Anya’s gorgeous tresses were fanned out around her head on the marble flags, their usual life and vibrant gloss was gone. Anya’s skin turned almost gray, no pulse, no fluttering at her throat could be seen. All her joyous love of life had vanished. She resembled a beautiful mannequin waiting for her handsome prince to kiss her and give her life. But the perfect waxen woman on the marble was not their Anya … Anya was dead.
The men behind the barrier screamed their hatred of the smiling woman on the throne while she congratulated herself. The twins crumpled to the floor, their head in their hands. They were holding their pain in. It was a stroke away from bursting free and only the fact that Anya wasn’t truly dead in her life spark is what saved the twins from the same agony Anya had gone through. But their grief was overwhelming.
They looked up at the Beast who lovingly straightened Anya, and then whispered his love for her. But as Arahir began to stand, his grief-stricken face so difficult to look at … his body began to tremble. He shook, weeping and holding his head. Crumbling to the floor he wept in pain as he rolled around shaking. When the fit stopped and he was able to stand, the men gasped as they caught sight of what was happening to him.
Arahir began to change once more. His face returned to the bestial features of before. His mane reappeared, with the long fangs and golden eyes. His clawed feet and hands reappeared as well and before anyone had time to say a word, the Beast stood before them once more.
Lirima stood shocked as her perfect Arahir was the hideous Beast she had changed him into. She couldn’t understand it. ‘Why when the spell had been broken did it return after Anya died?’
Arahir just looked at the Enchantress. She had cursed him in the beginning, but he knew it had only been Anya’s love that had seen through his curse and somehow it seemed her love had been the one thing keeping the Beast at bay.
“What happened to your beautiful perfect face? I thought Anya broke the spell? How could it come back?”
Lirima was furious that the Beast was in place once more. But … she had made the Beast. All she had to do was get rid of him and her perfectly handsome Arahir would return.
“I’ll just have to get rid of the spell myself if Anya’s death released it. She must not have broken the curse, only held it back or something. I’m not sure but I’ll try something else.”
For the better part of an hour, the Enchantress tried every spell she could think of to remove the Beast’s curse. But no matter what Lirima tried, the Beast’s curse stayed firmly in place. Arahir wasn’t even upset about it. It had only been important to him to have his true face for Anya. He didn’t care what he looked like for the Enchantress. He also knew exactly what had happened.
Anya’s love had been a pure wondrous thing. She hadn’t broken the curse at all … something Lirima had done had changed his very being when she cursed him. It wasn’t something that could be undone. He needed someone to love him in spite of what he looked like, because here in the castle, Anya’s love had been so strong, seeing him as he truly was through her eyes of love. He had returned to his former self through seeing himself in her eyes. So, while her eyes saw him truly, he was himself, but once she died, he returned to this form. No one loved him as she did; he could not see himself without that impossible love. So … he was back where he started.
The Enchantress was furious.
“What is wrong my love … Do you not find me as appealing? Don’t you love me just as much? There is no reason why my appearance will get in the way of our more pleasant activities.”
The Enchantress was at a loss. It was true she would still want to make love to Arahir, but she so loved his beautiful face. And why in gods’ name did Anya’s death trigger the return of his Beast? It was maddening. But when he walked into her arms and kissed her using his teeth and claws … she shuddered. Although … there could be some real possibilities using his teeth and claws attached to making love with the Beast. Cutting herself on his teeth, she kissed him back.
Anya’s body lay beautiful and serene, not a whisper of breath from her lips. The Enchantress checked using her staff for any sign of life, for heartbeat, for anything to indicate that the Beast had not done his job properly. But there was nothing. The return of the Beast was the surest sign the young woman was dead, but Lirima had to check for herself.
She had poked and prodded, using spells and mirrors. There was nothing she did that indicated Arahir had betrayed her. Smiling she couldn’t resist dancing around Arahir.
“You’ve done it … she’s truly dead. You’re all mine. Nothing will ever come between us again.”
“Have some respect witch. You just had her soul mate torn from her then, kill her and you’re celebrating over her dead body. You’re a heartless bitch and I hope one day the same is done to you. That sweet woman never hurt you, and yet you magically force a joining on her mate. Are you so little wanted that no man would willingly share your bed? For all your much-vaunted beauty … your bed is empty? Maybe more is truly known about you than you think.”
Marcos was having a wonderful time. He was slagging the Enchantress, vilifying her with every mean, low thing he could think of, wanting to make Lirima lose her control and say something they could use against her.
Lirima spun around; lightning crackled around her head and staff. She had finally had enough. Her beautiful Arahir was finally hers then, when he kills Anya; she has the Beast back. That wasn’t bad enough … but all through this long drawn out morning she had to endure the silent accusing stares of the two brothers. And instead of allowing her to revel in Anya’s dying screams, she had to listen to the insults heaped upon her by the three traitors. Their death was long overdue. And seeing as Arahir had lost his humanity or whatever they called it on Serenor, he would be more than happy to kill the three men for her. After all, once he had executed his beloved Anya, three men he hardly knew should be no problems.
She flung out her arms, looking unbelievably magnificent as she screeched at the three enemies of her plans.
“Enough!”
Lirima glared at the smirking, triumphant looks on their faces.
“I have had quite enough of your foul observances. I think it is time for you all to understand just who you are dealing with. You think this is a game being played here, that anyone will care if you die or live? I will rule here, I will rule and each of your worlds will be mine. No one will even remember you, while I will be immortal, ruling uncounted worlds until my glory is remembered forever. When I enter the Living Light and I control the Portals, I will discover new worlds that will succumb to my beauty and majesty and beg me to be their Queen. I will rule everywhere the Light takes me.”
“Will this be before you sl
aughter their children for your evil magic?”
Keplin innocently dropped his comment into the conversation. Then Marcos took a turn.
“No … this will be when she has to bespell all the men to love her because no sane man could love such an evil poisonous creature like Lirima.”
“Do you think it will work on all the worlds?”
Alexandros was doing his part to get Lirima blinding mad.
“No, I think she will have to kill sweet, lovely women to steal their men and bind them to her. It’s the only way Lirima could keep any of them.”
The Enchantress clenched her fists. Lightning flickered and crackled in the darkened room.
“You think you will have the last laugh; that you’re so clever. You will all die and I will have the last laugh. I will dance on your dead stinking corpses while I drink wine and laugh over your deaths. You will be dead and I … I will be very much alive.”
Lirima called Arahir to go to the barrier.
“In one instant, I am going to lower this and you are going to kill these men for me; they are my enemies.”
She curled her lip in disgust.
“Maybe calling them men is placing too finer point on it. One is an ugly Troll and the other is an even uglier Ogre. Keplin the feeble Wizard isn’t even a man. He could never be strong enough to stop my magic. And then, there are the brothers, standing so silent, so angry and grief-stricken over the death of the lovely Anya. Don’t worry; you’ll be put out of your misery before long.”
The Beast stood at the barrier, holding a weapon in his hands. The Enchantress was pleased. She thought a sword would be a perfect weapon to get rid of all her enemies. After all … the Beast was magnificent with weapons of any sort. He would make short work of everyone standing insulting her.
“I want you to kill them for me. The barrier will go down, and then, I want you to kill and kill and kill.”
Lirima thought that sounded sufficiently bloodthirsty. Besides … she liked the sound of the words, all that blood all over the nice white marble tiles. Why … just the very idea made all sorts of lustful thoughts enter her fertile imagination. She thought the Beast might even like what she had in mind. His blood would be up and after a killing spree; the sex was always exceptional.