“I’m never enough for you, am I Mum?”
Chapter Thirteen
I ran faster than I could have imagined. Pain fuelling my shaking muscles and guiding me when I couldn’t get my mind to function. The desire to be anywhere but there, seeing their anguished faces trying to convince me of truths that don’t matter anymore, was all I needed to get me where I ended up, not even knowingly choosing my destination.
I lock the door behind me, sliding down to the floor and pulling my knees to my chest as sobs ripple through my chest. My fingers dig into my head, pulling the hair from my scalp, and I scream until my throat is raw from the pain stabbing at my chest.
It doesn’t matter what I do, who I am. I can be there for her, help her every step of the way, or I can withdraw like I’ve been doing, distancing myself from her even when I feel deep inside of myself how wrong that is, but it doesn’t matter, I’m never enough for her. Mum replaces me the first moment she can. She did it with William, and now it seems Zaneth has weaselled his way into her life.
How could I have not seen this coming? Where were the signs that they even felt romantically about each other? Have I been so wrapped up in my own problems that I’ve completely ignored the obvious unfolding right in front of me?
I sigh heavily, emotions exploding like fireworks throughout my body and I bang my head against the door, the sharp pain warming me in a strange way, expelling the angry thoughts fighting inside my mind.
Is this all my fault? Maybe if I’d been there for her, spent time with her instead of burying myself in my training, hiding away from everyone in my single-minded pursuit of joining the fight, then I might have seen the signs, I could have stopped her from needing Zaneth in the first place.
None of that matters now. Mum has Zaneth and he has her. The stab of jealousy makes my stomach heave and I roll onto all fours.
Dragging myself towards the bed, I crawl up, pulling the same pillow that Karadese had held to her chest, up against my own and snuggle down, trying to remember what it felt like to be held in his arms.
This is the closest I can be to Blay, locked in his room, lying on the very bed upon which he slept, smelling his earthy scent still lingering on his sheets, but it’s not enough. My eyes wander around the room, needing something visual to feel more connected to him.
His room is similar to mine with its giant bed, overstuffed chair and a ridiculously large dresser to hold his clothes, but where mine holds nothing personal or comforting, his is filled with life which oozes his personality. A wooden desk is littered with at least a dozen books and a couple of daggers as if he just threw them there, thinking that he would be back at any moment to attach them to his sheaths before heading out on his next quest.
Five swords, each differing in shape, size and design, hang against the far wall and I can’t tell by looking at them if they are there for decoration or if they are part of Blay’s battle weapon collection, all I know is that none of them are my swords and I’m equally deflated and pleased by that.
Although nothing catches my eye as much as the paintings which hang on the walls and I can’t fathom how I didn’t notice them the last time I was here with Karadese.
There are seven in total, all hand painted and depicting scenic views that can only be of Prytora with their purple leaved trees and ice blue waterfall spilling into the lake below.
I stand, making my way to one in particular that draws me in and leaves me in awe at its vivid detail. Reaching up, I run my fingertips across the bumps of dried oil based paint which have been used to create the view from the castle, overlooking the rocky lake below, showing the rolling fog emerging from the very land I had swum to during my brief escape. It is beautifully eerie and I love it as much as it frightens me.
My breath catches when I see the cursive signature at the bottom of the painting written in gold and deliberately small as if not wanting to draw any attention.
Blay Lonix.
Blay painted these pictures. My Blay. The same man who fights with no regard to himself in battle. The royal prince, who at this very moment is being aggressively tortured by monstrous creatures, yet still withstands the pain solely due to his determination and devotion. The aloof, seemingly emotionless guy who has kept his promises to me even though I certainly don’t deserve his loyalty, he created these captivating pieces of artwork, something which I never thought was possible from him.
How many layers are there to this guy? His level-headedness mixed with his intensity were enough to make me feel inferior before, now that I’ve discovered his passion and artistic talents I feel downright inadequate.
Blay may be skilled in a lot of things but it’s his strength that I miss, his ability to calm me down and make me feel safe, that’s what I need right now more than ever before.
Blay is stable, honest, and kind, he is ruled by his intellect and I’m nothing more than an erratic, emotional mess who needs to be calmed by something solid, someone who can quieten the unravelling creature that I’ve become. This latest unexpected episode with Mum and Zaneth has left me reeling, my reaction proving that I can’t cope. I need someone to be on my side and Blay has been there for me from the very beginning.
But he is not here now. I am alone once again, with no one to depend on other than myself.
The cage might have changed appearance, but history is repeating itself. Mum has found another man and I am no longer needed. I am alone and no one can save me.
This time though I’m not going to die quietly. I am not going to allow someone else to perish because of my self-preservation.
I’m done hiding. I’m not training anymore. It’s time to save Blay and I’ll do it alone.
Alone, because that’s all I’ll ever be.
***
I storm towards the armoury not even bothering to be discreet and hide my intentions. It doesn’t matter anyway, there’s no one around to question the determined scowl set on my pale face or the rigid placement of my shoulders. Even if someone was to get in my way, right now I’d probably bowl them down in my single-minded pursuit.
For intelligent people who have dealt with so much evil in their lives and know such terrible beings lurk around trying to break through the protective barriers that hover over Prytora, they are pretty blasé about keeping their most stocked weapons base guarded.
Pushing open the door, I quickly scan the room for anyone who might get in my way, shaking my head when no one is to be seen. For the copious number of weapons, from swords, daggers, throwing stars and little dart like things (which I have no idea what the actual purpose of is), that line the walls and are meticulously polished and cared for, there is not one guard around to protect them, keeping them out of the clutches of people like me who aim to, well, basically steal them for my own barely concocted plan.
If a room like this existed on Earth, which in all reality probably does in some Area 59 division of a ‘non-existent’ government somewhere, then the place would be heavily fortified from a breach. The whole area would be built like Fort Knox, guarded by armed men who would shoot on sight. Good old cynical Earthlings.
The Prytorian royalty could really do with some of Earth’s natural suspicion and inbuilt inability to trust others, and if I live through this next grand adventure, then I’m certainly going to discuss this glaringly obvious weakness with Karadese. Mind you, once they realise what I’m about to do, it will probably be all too clear that they need to keep this place under guarded supervision at all times. I mean come on, this is the second time I’ve raided the place on a whim, imagine what could be done if I had actually bothered to plan my actions beyond the next step, these people would be in serious trouble.
Crossing the room quickly, I come to a standstill in front of Blay’s little corner of the room. His sword hangs, gleaming and pristine, on its holder, waiting for its owner to hold it once again and I get a pang in my chest, feeling like I too have been left behind, uselessly waiting for his return.
Grabbing Blay’
s sheath, I tie it to my waist, making sure it won’t come loose before grabbing the surprisingly heavy silver sword and sliding it into place. He’ll probably be wickedly mad that I’m daring to take it, but too bad, he can yell at me all he likes, once I save him that is. Right now, having something of his with me makes me feel slightly stronger, as if he is somehow right there with me. Anyway, the moment he is freed I’ll be more than happy to give it back, after all, sword fighting isn’t exactly my speciality.
Next, I pick up Blay’s brown satchel, feeling its soft worn leather from years of use, against my fingers and my eyes snap closed, nostalgia making my heart beat a little faster.
Stupid, I’m so stupid. Now is not the time to become sentimental. It’s a sword and a bag, steel and leather, they have no feelings and neither should I, not if I want to get through this. I have to revert to the time before, when I shut myself down to anything but surviving the next moment.
Spinning around, I grab several of the closest daggers, shoving them, fully sheathed, into the satchel and briefly wonder what else I should take. For a moment, I consider going back to Blay’s room, letting the pull of desire guide me to my swords, the ones Calasis still searches for.
If I concentrate hard enough I can still feel them calling to me, even from this distance. They beckon to me, a constant desire that lessens only slightly the further away from them I am.
I still haven’t discovered why I can sense them, why they lured me to the cottage in the first place and why the magic of Nevithan now runs across my skin when I most need it. Perhaps I will never know.
Right now though, it doesn’t matter. If I do manage to find the swords, it won’t take long before Calasis confiscates them, and who am I to refuse him? The swords contain a powerful magic and that power will only diminish Calasis’s caution. The magic heals me, for some strange reason, but they will never bring someone back from the dead and if Calasis runs head first into battle with the mindset of invincibility, he will die, no doubt about it.
No, for now the swords can remain hidden. A secret only Blay knows the key to, and I’ll stay true to my decision to keep my knowledge a secret.
Now that I scan the room looking at the weapons lining the walls I notice something which makes my stomach clench, my eyes narrowing as suspicion runs wild in my mind.
There are some weapons missing, more than some actually. There are whole spaces which before held hundreds of deadly weapons that are now bare, no killing devices to be seen.
“What is going on?” I growl, already feeling the dread of knowledge creeping up my spine.
I turn around and around, my eyes scouring every inch of the armoury, my heart sinking when I fail to see what should be there.
Along with the missing weapons, many of the warrior’s armour is also missing and with the noticeable lack of Calasis’s presence, that can mean only one thing.
“The bastards went without me!” I kick wildly at the nearest object, a wooden stool, which crashes into the wall with a heavy thud and shatters as it falls to the floor.
How could they leave me behind? How could they go to rescue Blay without me, especially since Calasis knows what I’m capable of doing?
This was my plan, the ambush with a group breaking off to go in search of Blay. I have been training so hard with the thought that I would be included in this raid and now they’ve abandoned me, thinking that I’m nothing more than a liability.
My blood feels like it’s boiling. The bracelet surging to life with my growing anger until I’m literally shaking, my transformation on the verge of transpiring.
Calasis never had any intention of allowing me to go on the rescue mission, none of them did. It is so glaringly obvious now. All of my training, being handed off like some unwanted child onto Kozhan and how he unrelentingly worked me into exhaustion, it had all been a rouse to keep me from figuring out what the actual plan was.
They have gone off without their best weapon. No matter how unstable my abilities are, I possess something unexpected which could have been used to balance the fight and potentially even tipped it to their favour, and not only that but they also don’t have their best warrior, Zaneth is still here with my mother.
Wait. Zaneth. Why is he here and not with the rest of the warriors fighting for Blay’s freedom?
I’m out of the armoury, running full speed towards my mother’s room, not giving a damn that the clanging of my weapons can be heard a mile away, ignoring the fact that it wasn’t that long ago I had run away from these people I now want to confront.
Mum’s door stands ajar and I barge through slamming it loudly against the wall in my haste.
“Where have they gone?” I yell.
Zaneth pulls away from my mother who stands there, her hands clasped together in front of her chest, her mouth pulled into a tight line, refusing to meet my eyes and I know without a doubt that she is in on the act too.
“Calm down, Rayna,” Zaneth calmly chides me.
“Oh bugger off, Zaneth.” His opinion of me no longer feels of any importance, not now after he has betrayed me twice over.
“The armoury is all but empty. Calasis is nowhere to be found and the castle is curiously quiet. They’ve gone on the mission to save Blay, I know they have, I just want you to confirm it.”
Zaneth folds his beefy arms across his chest while he watches me, a muscle pulsating in his jaw as he finally comes to the conclusion that it’s no point lying to me any longer.
“Yes, they have gone to rescue Blay.” His calm tone irritates me further, and I realise he thinks I should have figured this all out far earlier.
“Why the hell didn’t they take me with them?”
“Rayna, honey, you couldn’t go with them.” Mum steps forward, her hands fluttering out in front of her as if she wants nothing more than to hold me in her arms. “I would never have allowed you to join a fight that’s not yours.”
I reel backwards, her audacity pushing me over the edge. I feel the claws sprouting, the tingling pain deep inside my gums aching to release teeth that are not my own, my eyesight honing in on her with clear precision, all but ready to tear her down.
Typically, now the mutation wants to take hold of me, not before when I summoned it, not when I wanted to rip Zaneth to shreds, no. Now it floods me, right when I want nothing more than to prove that I’m in control.
“You would never have allowed me to fight for Blay’s life?” I spit. “How dare you! You’ve done nothing but abandon me ever since Dad died. You were never there for me. I was never enough for you then, and I’m not enough for you now that you’ve got Zaneth to fill that blackened dead heart of yours!”
My body shivers with the awakening of the Nevithan lights rippling beneath my skin, trying to douse the fire of the bracelet’s curse.
Mum’s face falls, her eyes filling with tears which spill over and trail down her peaches and cream cheeks, like the frail, pathetic being she is.
“You don’t have any right to say what I can and can’t do, whether I put my life in danger or not. You gave up that right when you choose William and his kids over me and let me walk right out of the life that Dad worked so hard to build.”
Her shoulders slump and I know I’m hurting her with the truth of my words, but I won’t stop blaming her for my pain, not now, maybe not ever.
“In your pathetic world, there is nothing but you and your happiness. You don’t know a thing about Blay. You couldn’t imagine the horrible pain he is going through and it’s all because of me, Mum! I’m the reason he is there, suffering excruciating torture at the hands of a monster. He sacrificed himself for me! He barely knows me, yet he willingly traded my life for his. That is more than you have ever done. So don’t you dare say that you wouldn’t allow me to join the fight to save him.”
She shrinks back, crumbling onto the couch as my accusations echo coldly around us. I don’t have time to allow the guilt that should fill me for hurting her, take hold of my mind. I turn to Zaneth, my face a
mask of disgust, yet still human, my transformation not yet taking hold.
“Why did you not join the fight. You are their best warrior, you’ve said it yourself. Why are you here instead of being by Calasis’s side when he needs you more than ever?”
He doesn’t back down from my anger, he’s not as weak as the woman who raised me. With anger of his own swarming through him, he lowers his arms, his fists squeezing and releasing in time with his heartbeat.
“It was my intention to join the fight. Trust me when I say that I want nothing more than to have Blay returned to his rightful place. But it was against Calasis’s wishes and the queen agreed with him.”
“Agreed to what exactly?” I snap when he pauses.
“That I stay behind to protect you if necessary, and more importantly to keep you from realising that the warriors and Calasis had left.”
“Why the hell would they leave me behind?”
He raises his hand, gesturing to all of me.
“Take a look at yourself, Rayna. You’re not exactly stable at the moment. You lack the years of experience that every Prytorian warrior has embodied from the moment they started schooling. Having you in a fight would only increase the pressure on everyone else, namely Calasis, in their bid to protect you instead of focusing on securing Blay.”
His words resonate the truth even though I don’t want them to. I am weak compared to them. No better than useless. But what I lack in experience I make up for with pure rage. I have something no other warrior has, a personal vendetta. I have survived the Zantronians once before and I have Garvien’s cursed bracelet embedded in my wrist to prove it.
I have one more thing that they don’t. Love. I love Blay. No matter how irrational that sounds, or how absurd it is, I can feel the tiny spark of love begin to grow. Maybe it all started because he gave me someone to trust, someone to rely on when I had no one else left, and that trust blossomed into something more, the beginnings of new love. I have never been in love before, so this unexpected ache in my heart at his endangerment has pushed me over the edge. I love him, and I will do anything for those that I love.
Fallen Paladin (The Paladin's Curse Book 2) Page 10