Two Thousand Years

by M. Dalto

  "I'm sorry, Empress, but you gave me no other choice."

  Reylor's voice brought her out of her haze, and she frantically tried to pull her hands down and out of the restraints but was painfully unsuccessful. Her efforts only created fresh cuts where the metal dug into her skin.

  Craning her head down, her ankles suffered from the same fate. Each leg had its own manacle and was chained apart from the other to opposite posts at the foot of the bed. She tried to free them, but again her efforts were in vain and she screamed out at her frustrations.

  “Fighting will get you nowhere, Empress.”

  Alex followed the sound of his voice towards the end of the bed, where he stood leaning against one of the posts with his arms crossed against his chest. The look of pure satisfaction across his shadowed face made her stomach churn, but it was in his eyes, with their unnaturally deep red glow, that made the panic, rage and fear within her finally boil over.

  “You bastard!” was all she could spit out amidst her fury.

  He shrugged. “I've been called worse, I assure you, but no, not this time. I gave you the chance, the choice, and you chose...poorly.”

  He walked along the edge of the bed, his finger tracing the outline of her leg as he passed. Her eyes followed him through every step, but she was helpless as he leaned over her, his hands resting on the bed by either side of her head, his face right above hers.

  “I would have given you everything, Alexstrayna, but you chose to run away from me. Maybe I gave you too many opportunities to consider your options, and that was my mistake to make. So now, it is my turn to make the decisions for you.”

  She growled at him and she tried to release her limbs from the chains again, but it was no use.

  He stood, laughing at her. “I could have, should have, just taken care of it the first night you were here, but the scrolls were harder to decipher than I expected. But the longer you were here, I realized that the hardest part was already done for me, therefore I was able to manipulate the scrolls better to serve my true purpose.”

  He turned around to face her with a sick gleam in his eyes. “Initially I thought I would have had to start the entire process from scratch, but like a good Prince, Treyan has already done it for me.”

  She glared up at him upon hearing Treyan's name. “What the hell are you talking about?"

  “Don't be so naive, Alexstrayna. Do you honestly think he fucked you out of sheer desire or pure romance? Never! It was sheer necessity. His predestined duty.”

  “It's none of your business!” she spat.

  “Oh, no? So, you haven't figured it out yet, have you?”

  “Figured out what?” she demanded through clenched teeth.

  The smile on his face was so smug she would have loved to kick it off.

  “Allow me to be the bearer of the glorious news!” He had walked to the other side of the bed and looked down at her.

  “Congratulations, Empress!" he clapped. “You're pregnant!”

  “Pregnant?” Her jaw dropped as the weight of this sudden announcement fell upon her like a pile of bricks.

  “Or at least you should be, if the coronation was timed well enough. The Annals were very specific about timing for that reason, if I remember correctly. With twins, no less. Boys, most likely, if all goes to the Prophecy’s plan, but we're not going to let this go to plan now, are we?”

  But she stopped listening to him.

  Pregnant?

  She turned away as she took what time she had to process.

  No, there was no possible way.

  Well, obviously there was, but it was just that one time.

  Not that that meant anything.

  She had been feeling off, and she thought maybe she was late, but had assumed it was because of the stress.

  Shit.

  Whether Reylor was telling the truth or not, the need to free herself from his prison intensified exponentially. No longer was she fighting for herself, but also now for the unborn children she may or may not be carrying.

  She turned back to where he stood, with nothing but pure hatred burning in her eyes.

  “Then it seems the Prophecy has already been set in motion. If I am pregnant, you're too late and there's nothing you can do now to stop it.”

  Upon hearing her taunts, all glee disappeared from his face.

  “I could stop it. I could terminate it.”

  Her voice caught in her throat as the bile rose.

  “Or.” He pulled himself up so that he was standing on the bed, holding onto one of the posts and looking down to her from above. “I take advantage of the work I put into translating those scrolls, cast what you may consider a curse upon your womb, therefore warping the Prophecy, which would, in turn, destroy the Annals, and thus finally rewrite history's curse upon my bloodline until the end of time.”

  “That's impossible!” She couldn't believe what she was hearing. “You're insane.”

  “Am I?” He had pounced on top of her, kneeling above her on all fours. She struggled to move away, but the chains provided no give for a sliver of freedom. He was too close for comfort, and anything he had in mind while being this close to her body was dangerous.

  “Come now, Alexstrayna.”

  She closed her eyes and turned away, but she could feel his lips on her neck.

  “If you had only given me the chance.”

  Her skin crawled with each word. “Never.”

  He grabbed her jaw tightly and brought her face back to center, forcing her to look at him. “Try to stop me.”

  She glared at him. “If you honestly think a spell is going to change the outcome of the Prophecy—”

  “It's not just any spell, Empress. As with most incantations, they demand a ritual, and this one especially requires a very specific component.” His gaze darkened, eyes glazing over as though possessed. “So, you see, as I have been banished, anything I do can, and will, change the course of history. The Empire's greatest mistake was leaving me to my own devices, and now knowing what I do, the timing is perfect for the taking. As are you.”

  His implications were not lost on her rattled mind, and as the severity of her situation settled upon her, she used every last ounce of strength to fight Reylor off. She knew it was in vain and she was trapped with nowhere to go. There was nothing she could do no matter how much she fought.

  Reylor was much stronger than he appeared and restrained her easily despite her attempts to fight back. “What you don't understand, Empress, is that I am the magic that will change the Prophecy. My existence is the very seed of corruption, and should I perish for my efforts, which I'm very well expecting, my legacy will still live on.”

  Using his knees, Reylor positioned his legs between hers.

  “Any way you look at it, Empress,” he snarled into her ear as he put his weight upon her. “I win.”

  She closed her eyes as she could feel the tears come. “Stop.”

  “No.” His hands ran down her thighs to her knees, grabbing a bunch of material in each fist and tore her skirts away.

  “Yes, Alexstrayna,” he growled through the kiss he left her neck. “This has been too long in the making.”

  “I said no!” she cried.

  “You no longer have the choice.”

  24

  She couldn't move.

  She didn't dare.

  Her throat was raw from screams she didn’t remember making.

  Her eyes burned from tears she didn’t recall crying.

  Her body ached but she didn’t remember any of it.

  She curled herself up into the fetal position.

  He had done her the kindness of releasing her arms and legs when he was done.

  Whatever he had done.

  Something in her mind shut it out, having given her the mercy of allowing her to black out as the panic attack closed her throat, shortened her breath.

  Kindness…

  She closed her eyes. Everything hurt.

  Yet he wouldn't go away.r />
  The feeling of him upon her refused to escape her skin.

  The smell of him infiltrated her.

  The sound of him.

  She wrapped her arms around her knees, hoping that if she held herself tight enough, maybe she would just disappear.

  The memory.

  What memory?

  That—the unknown—was going to be much harder to erase.

  Time passed.

  She lost track of how long it had been.

  She was pregnant.

  Her cycle had ceased at least a month ago.

  Of that she was certain.

  She just didn’t know how far along she was.

  Or how much longer she would have to wait.

  She refused to eat. Nothing stayed down.

  She could just kill herself. That could break this curse.

  He wouldn't let her. He didn't trust her alone.

  He reminded her that killing herself would kill her unborn children as well.

  Were they even children now?

  Treyan's get by default.

  Reylor's abomination by whatever curse he cast upon her.

  It didn't matter.

  Nothing mattered.

  She didn’t talk.

  Talking made no difference when no one answered her screams.

  The only one who talked to her was Reylor, but she never wanted to talk to him again.

  She hated him.

  She wanted him dead.

  The dead don’t need to talk anyway.

  Treyan never came.

  She doubted he ever made the attempt.

  She was angry.

  Angry at herself for failing to escape.

  Angry at Treyan for putting too much confidence in her.

  Most of all, she was angry at Reylor for being right about Treyan's lack of trying to save her.

  Reylor was never supposed to be right.

  25

  The balcony doors were open while Alex watched the sky from her position on the bed. It was always overcast, the rain non-stop. It seemed like even the clouds were depressed once they crossed over into the Borderlands.

  While she was busy contemplating the weather, he walked in.

  She didn't need to look to know he was next to her, and she didn't care to move upon sensing his presence next to the bed. She didn't care anymore. She was too numb to care.

  “Spending another day in bed?”

  “Go away.”

  “You would think you'd be in better spirits,” he went on as he followed her gaze out the window.

  She didn't respond.

  “I wonder, what sort of reception do you think you will receive upon your return to the Empire?”

  “Shut up.” She was so tired of his taunts.

  She hadn't heard his mages approach until one was standing in her line of sight, blocking her view of the outside world. Before she could react, they grabbed ahold of her and pulled her out of the bed, holding her upright to face Reylor.

  He looked her up and down with the same, disgusting smirk that seemed to remain permanently on his face.

  “Put her in the bath. We can't send her home to her Prince looking like this.”

  She looked up at him. “Home?”

  He smiled at her eye contact. “Consider this a gift, Alexstrayna.” His hands went to her stomach and touched her swelling abdomen. “Another gift to bestow upon the Empire.”

  She struggled against the mages hold, but their grip only tightened.

  She wanted him dead.

  “Besides, what kind of life would the children have, remaining here? I'm not going to lie—the Borderlands are no place to raise a family.” He brushed the hair out of her face. “No, I want you to return to Treyan. I want you to let him see what I've done—what I couldn’t have done without you.”

  She would have strangled him if her arms were free.

  “When they are born, and Treyan realizes that what was once his will no longer remain solely to him any longer, I will be there, right by your side, to retrieve what's rightfully mine...”

  “Nothing is yours,” she snarled. “You'll be dead before you get anywhere near the Empire.”

  “I've done it before, and I have no qualms about doing it again.”

  She wanted to punch out his teeth, but she spit in his face instead.

  Reylor didn't react immediately. Alex flinched when he raised his hand, but he only brought it up to wipe his cheek.

  His red eyes, however, dark as blood and just as gothic, told another story. They looked at her with hope and promise despite the harsh contempt within them. He nodded to his mages and they dragged her away to the washroom before an altercation could occur.

  Wary of her condition, they stripped her of her rags and put her in the tub. She had cleaned herself in the past, when she felt the motivation to leave the bed, but this was the first time she had felt hot water since the day of her coronation...

  She closed her eyes at the memory while they scrubbed her skin raw.

  She knew she wasn't taking care of herself. She was just so weak and so tired. She didn't care anymore...

  She was hoisted from the bath and brought back out to the main room where Reylor had remained, waiting for her. He watched as the mages dressed her in a plain shirt and pants, and while one finished lacing her boots, the other began tying her wrists together in front of her, as if they were concerned for their Lord's well-being if her hands remained free. Once they completed their tasks, they sat her down on the edge of the bed. Reylor stood and approached her with something in his hand.

  He still had the Empress' crown.

  She had forgotten all about it, but clearly, he had not.

  He placed it upon her head, a sick smile of satisfaction playing on his lips as he admired his handy work.

  “Do be careful with it. It belonged to my mother.” He leaned down to where she sat. “Until we meet again, Empress...”

  His eyes were level with hers, but she refused to flinch. Instead, she stared back, willing every bit of absolute hatred towards him to materialize in her returning gaze.

  He didn't appear to be bothered by her reaction, or lack thereof, nor did he make any further advances towards her, but instead stood and nodded to his mages. She was swiftly removed from the quarters and brought to the stables, where she was hoisted onto a horse and tied to the saddle while one of the mages climbed up behind her. The other took a different horse, and soon they rode out together.

  Alex sensed eyes upon her as the group rode away from the castle. Glancing back over her shoulder, Reylor stood on the balcony, watching her leave.

  They traveled for what seemed like a good portion of the day across the uneven landscape, with each bump and jolt making Alex’s ride all the more uncomfortable. Where they seemed to show concern for her condition earlier, they now gave her very little consideration while they continued to ride on as their so Lord ordered.

  They eventually stopped as the day’s light began to darken. The landscape had changed drastically compared to the harsh mountainside of the castle. Where they stood was merely a flat desert-like plain, and as far as Alex could see, there were no trees or other plant life, but waves of dying brown grasses.

  The mages began untying her from the saddle, and together lifted her from the horse. With her wrists still tethered in front of her, they continued on foot through the plains, across what felt like miles of arid desert, to an overgrown area that had not been traveled upon for some time.

  They were leaving the Borderlands.

  The tree line must have stretched for a mile between the Empire and the Borderlands. This is the first time she had ever seen it and she hoped it would be the last.

  One mage stepped beside her and brought out a knife he had hidden in his boot- Alex flinched as he brought it to the ropes around her wrists and began cutting her loose. Her skin was raw and bloody where the rough fibers chafed against her skin, and the removal of the rope hurt as much as having it on.

&n
bsp; He sheathed his knife, and with a glance to his companion, the two began to silently walk towards where they had tied the horses.

  “Hey…wait!” Alex shouted after them, but they continued to ignore her. “You can’t just leave me here like this!”

  They mounted their horses and began galloping back towards the castle.

  “Come back!”

  But they were gone.

  The posted sentries found her lying on the Empire’s side of the tree line during the night's final rotation.

  Treyan rode as hard as he could from the nearby village, where he had since set up his base in their attempts to infiltrate the Borderlands once and for all. Too much time had passed, and Treyan had had enough. He didn’t care if war came to the Empire, and the Councillor’s threats be damned—Reylor took Alex, and for that he could never be forgiven.

  Jamison remained with the unconscious Empress while a scout went on ahead to find him. She looked as if she had walked the entire length of the Borderlands, she had lost so much weight, and looked so weak.

  He wanted nothing more than to get her to the palace, to get her home. As far away from Reylor as possible, but Jamison talked sense to him. They needed to make sure she was stable before forcing her to make the journey, so together they brought her back to the village, where its only healer was able to monitor her overnight to ensure she would be well enough to travel the next morning. Treyan, too, remained by her side, but despite his frantic pleas, begging her to come back to him, the Empress refused to wake.

  26

  Treyan paced restlessly outside the room where Alex remained since they had return to the palace. He had pushed his horse to the limit the moment the healer informed him they were safe to leave and ordered the remainder of the guards that had traveled north with him to remain where they were should anything else decide to cross into the Empire.