He wept, realizing perhaps for the first time the evil that he had committed, but fear overwhelmed him nonetheless, leaving him little room for regret. Even his love Aramela, had turned against him and she hated him.
Why else would she be trying to suffocate me? Exhausted and spent, he made one last effort to free himself. He groped her back, searching for the long braid that she always wore, but he could not locate it in the darkness. With his fingers spread wide, he grabbed her hair, surprised at its feel as it was coarse and short, not long and silky as before, and he yanked her head back violently, exposing his nose and mouth to the air once again. He gasped urgently for breath before he swooned from the lack thereof. Aramela hit him hard across the face, and he felt his cheek split from the attack and sensed the blood dripping down it. She lay heavily upon him, not allowing him to move at all, her strength much greater than he ever expected.
His lover fastened her lips once again to his own and he no longer perceived it as an act of passion, but one of defilement. He could not understand what she was doing, why she was virtually sucking the very life out of him, but that is what it felt like. Just before he lost consciousness, he heard a voice he did not recognize speak only inches from his face.
“What a pity you will not live to service me again,” it spoke. “I rather enjoyed your measly efforts,” she spit, watching his reaction, teasing him, gauging just how far to push.
Ruffin could not conceive of how someone else could have gotten into the cabin, close enough to speak in a hushed voice and yet still be heard. He did not know the voice, but it chilled him to the bone. There was no life in it, no spirit. It hissed as it spoke, and it was not the voice of his lover, Aramela.
“Aramela? Aramela?” he pleaded. “What have you done to her?”
“There is no Aramela, fool. I am your lover now. And being the good boy that you are, you gave me all that I desired. Aramela is dead. She died in the arms of another man. Even she betrayed you,”
“You are lying. Who are you? She would never betray me. She loved me,” he sobbed at his wits end, total despair enveloping him, his very soul vanquished by her words.
“There is only one person who truly loves you, Ruffin. Only one. He will comfort you. He will succor you. He will give you all that you desire,” she responded, her voice now soothing and seductive.
She had lead him to the precipice, pushed him to the very edge and now she was going to slowly bring him back.
“Let me go. No one can help me. I have killed my own mother!” he screamed, as if only now aware of his crime.
“He will understand. You were compelled to do it. You were not being treated fairly. She deserved it,” the voice hissed in response, offering him solace and refuge.
Ruffin sobbed and sobbed. He discovered that he could move his limbs once again, and he drew his knees into his chest and retreated against the wall, curled up like a baby. A soft hand fondled his hair and at first he cringed at the touch. Soon, he relaxed and allowed the strange woman to comfort him. She petted him as if he was a small dog, and she spoke soothing words of reassurance.
“You have never been appreciated before. No one saw you for what you really are. It must have been so frustrating for you, so demeaning, having to hear your mother criticize you incessantly, and not being allowed to leave. How could anyone expect a strong young elf like you to accept such restrictions without the ability to complain. She was stealing your manhood, your pride. And, how could that selfish King have been so cruel to you, so uncaring? What were you to him? Nothing. A worker. A commodity. No more. He would have wasted your life without even a thought,” she continued. “You only did what you had to do. You showed courage, no less. It was not easy to escape from Seramour.”
A dismal glow emanated from the area around the voice. As it grew in intensity, Ruffin could see the woman more clearly and he was surprised at just how beautiful she appeared to him. She was nothing like Aramela, but he remembered how passionately she had held him just moments before. His mind was not wholly sound, but he still maintained the sensibility that he controlled his own actions. She sat by him now, the only source of consolation and comfort he had experienced in a long while, and he succumbed to her caresses.
“Come with me,” she said to him, almost as an afterthought. “I will protect you. No one will ever be able to hurt you or take advantage of you again,” she cooed.
It was essential that he go willingly, if she hoped to gamer his full cooperation. With his consent, she could completely take over his mind and body and it would not wear out from the experience. If he resisted now, he would always resist, and that reticence would eat him up physically, reducing the span of time that she could manipulate him. She knew that if he accepted her advances and consented freely, then he would be hers to command for as long as he lived.
His thoughts kept slipping back to Aramela, his one love, and susceptible and tired as he was, he could not rid himself of the lingering memory of her.
“Where is Aramela? What has happened to her?” he asked, shy, trusting.
“You do not wish to know, Ruffin. It would hurt you so, she was so untrue,” she replied in a voice dripping with sincerity.
“I must know. She loved me. I loved her. She would not betray me,” he said, though doubt clearly suffused his tone.
Adrianna feigned reluctance so well that it seemed as if Ruffin virtually had to force the information from her. She wished only not to hurt him, it seemed.
“Please,” he implored “Tell me what you know. I will do anything that you ask. Anything. Just tell me,”
He had crossed the narrow line between fear and trust, and the renegade elf gave of his soul completely and willingly to Adrianna. In exchange for a few simple words of explanation and the promise of comfort and security everlasting, he surrendered what yet remained of his pathetic self. Adrianna sealed his fate with lies and deception, but he was too far gone to discern her methods.
“I knew of your sad and unfair travails in Seramour, and I came here to offer my help,” she began, though she never explained to him the incongruity of her words, or how she came upon her knowledge.
Ruffin never asked her how or questioned her either, he was content to hear what she had to say. His mind was so thoroughly clouded that somehow what she said all made sense to him and he accepted it without question.
“I knew you would try to reach Aramela, and I therefor sought to inform her of your troubles in advance. If she was prepared, perhaps she could assist you more quickly. I was afraid that they would come after you and try to bring you back to the Heights,” she continued. “But when I knocked upon her cabin door, no one answered. It was late at night and I did not wish to frighten them and raise an alarm, so I went around to her window in the back and I gently pushed it open.”
Adrianna turned away at that point, as if what she was about to relate to him was too difficult for her to do while staring upon his face.
“Go on, please. I need to know,” he said, his eyes were now riveted upon her, though his mind was fuzzy and his thoughts muddled and confused.
His mouth felt as if he had cotton stuffed inside it, but she seemed to understand his words as he spoke them.
“Would that I could spare you this tale, but if you insist, I will do as you ask,” she said to him, eyes on the ground as if reluctant to go on further with her description of the events.
“What else could be said that would hurt me more deeply than her betrayal has? I loved her. My heart is pierced already. Go on. Tell me the worst,” he pleaded.
Adrianna sat down before him and took both his dirty hands in her own. She looked deeply into his tired eyes, gleefully recognized the surrender therein, the total abdication of his own will, and she then sealed his fate with one final, horrifying lie. She whispered to him in the sweetest and most understanding voice.
“I pushed the window open slowly so as not to disturb her if she was sleeping, or frighten dear Aramela unnecessarily if she were
still awake. A small candle was burning almost to the quick in the far corner and the meager light it cast illuminated only a tiny portion of the room. Alas, it was enough for me to witness more than I wished to see.”
Once more, Adrianna cast her glance to the ground and hesitated for just the right amount of time to maximize the theatrical tension she created. A moment later she raised her chin and opened her eyes wide. She captured and held his gaze with her own, intense black eyes.
“Your lover lay naked in the arms of another,” she said whispered. “At first, I thought that perhaps you had arrived sooner than I expected, and I was about to withdraw before anyone noticed my presence.”
She paused again, loath to continue, it seemed.
“Go on,” Ruffin said, suffering. He could not now conceive that this sincere woman who cared so much about him would ever lie.
Adrianna bent her head dramatically and turned her saddened face to the side. She sat in silence for a moment, which seemed like an eternity to the disquieted elf. Suddenly without warning, she spat the horrid words out.
“The man in her arms was her father,” she hissed.
Ruffin collapsed upon himself, nauseated by the revelation. He could no longer control his emotions at all, and Adrianna rushed to his aide. She embraced him with the tenderness of a mother and the affection of a lover.
“I killed them both,” she whispered. “I could not look upon either of their faces for another moment.”
“Matricide. Incest. Murder. What more can befall me?” he wrung his hands.
“No more, Ruffin. No harm will come to you any longer. Come. Let us be gone from these depraved woods,” she urged him now. “We will travel to my Lord, to Sedahar. There you will be safe from all harm. Come. Come,” she insisted as she helped the tired elf to his feet.
She dressed him, cleaned his wounds gently and gave him a delicious liquid to drink. It tasted wonderful, though it burned deeply as he swallowed. Her thoughts were swirling and spinning in his head, but all that he could think about was leaving Lormarion, and Seramour, the city he so despised now. He wanted to be as far away from here as he could, so that he could forget all about his mother and how she made him hit her, the guard who forced death upon himself by hindering his escape and Aramela, the whore and evil traitor who committed such monstrous acts.
He allowed Adrianna to assist him, and he followed her directions as if he was in a trance. She led him to the door and pushed him gently but forcefully through it. He heard the sounds of horses somewhere in the near distance and she led him in the direction of their impatient whinnying and hoof stamping. Ruffin allowed her to lift him onto one of the animal’s backs and to secure him to the saddle with some kind of restraint. He was grateful to her, and he felt safe and stable. She mounted her own black steed, and with a click of her tongue, they were off.
Ruffin glanced backward only once, and he watched as the trees of Lormarion faded into the distance for what he knew was the final time. Out of the corner of his tired eye, despite the obfuscating fog that seemed to muddle his vision and his thinking, he also saw a momentary burst of brilliant light, so strong that he had to squint in response. He watched as the small cottage containing the bodies of Aramela and her treacherous father crumbled upon itself in an eruption of crimson flames, consumed and turned to ash. He then closed his eyes and drifted off into a deep, deep sleep.
Chapter Seventeen
She dreamt of Avalain. Her mother was sitting in the library with her and together they were looking through a great big, old book that was covered in dust. The sun was streaming through the stained glass windows from behind her and it was casting the strangest of shadows upon the high wall of volumes and manuscripts. The beams of multicolored light seemed to dance and flirt with the books, as if they were choosing amongst them, first this one and then that. Her mother kept pushing them away, shooing them from her like she would if flies were buzzing around her head. Filaree could not understand why her mother was not reaching out for them instead and trying to catch them in her hands like glowbugs in a jar, they were so beautiful.
She tried to speak to her, to tell her how lovely the dancing rays of light were, but the words would not issue forth from her mouth. The more she tried to speak, the more frustrated she became. She would open her mouth, knowing what she wanted to say, but the words would not come, as if her vocal chords themselves were absent from her. She stuttered and choked in silence, and Queen Esta was unaware of her travail even though she was sitting right before her.
Suddenly, the wall burst into flame behind the Queen, ignited by the shafts of sunlight that pranced upon it. Her mother continued to read the book that was opened in her hands, unaware of the conflagration at her back, and she persisted in waving her hands about her and fending off the light like it was a swarm of annoying insects.
By now, Filaree was becoming agitated and disturbed, but she was frozen in her seat and unable to stand and unable to utter a warning. Her mouth was open wide, but all that would issue forth was a scream. Once it issued from her mouth, it seemed never to stop.
“Wake up, Filaree. Wake up. It’’s just a dream, a bad dream,” Cairn said to the warrior lying beside him on the soft, mossy earth.
He held her arm lightly in his hand and shook it gently, as he sat propped upon his elbow.
She arose with a start and opened her eyes wide, searching from left to right for signs of danger. It took her a few seconds to understand where she was and who was addressing her. She shook her head from side to side and tried to clear the images from her mind, but she could not rid herself of the disturbing thought that her mother was in danger.
“Thank you, Cairn. I was dreaming, yes. But it was so real. I have not had a dream like that in such a long time. It must be all the excitement of leaving Pardatha and beginning our journey once more that precipitated such a restless night. I wanted to speak, but the words would not come,” she said while smoothing her disheveled hair across her brow. “I was home in Avalain, in the very room where I went when I was first ‘called’ here, and my mother was there with me. She was so busy looking at something in an old book, it must have been the Tomes, that she did not notice that the wall had caught on fire. All the books were burning right behind her, and she was ignoring them, not lifting her eyes from the tomes. I tired to warn her, but I could not. It was terrible and frustrating. I was helpless.”
She shook her head again, but she could not erase the uncomfortable impression that this dream had upon her.
“Well, I suppose it was only a dream. I do wish though, that I could see my mother again. And Avalain. Oh how I miss that city,” she said, as all of the pent up emotion welled up within her.
She turned away from Cairn so that he would not see the solitary tear that made its way slowly down her cheek.
“You will return home in time, Filaree. But, we have much to do first.”
“Oh, I know that, Cairn. And I do not mean to imply that I wish for a moment to be doing anything other that what we are doing now. I just cannot help but long for my friends in Avalain and the warmth of my family. I wish I could communicate with them the way Robyn does with his tree and his father. It would bring me great joy to know that my mother is safe, and that the city and its people are healthy and secure.”
Cairn could imagine how the Lady felt, though he could not share these emotions with her, as he never had a home or a family of his own since he was a small child. Calyx was his closest companion and he went with him wherever he traveled.
“Not all the news Robyn receives is reassuring, Filaree. Sometimes it is better to remain unaware,” Cairn replied.
“Yes, perhaps. But only if things are not as they should be. In that case, I would want to know anyway.”
“I suppose so.”
“Where are the others?” Filaree asked, realizing for the first time that they were alone.
Cairn looked around him in the darkness of the pre-dawn hours.
“Robyn’s b
edroll is empty, though still where it was when we retired. But the others I do not see. I guess they rose early and already stowed their gear.”
He stood up and began to survey the nearby area.
Filaree scowled, “Why would they do that? We are all going to depart together anyway?”
“Maybe Robyn knows,” he answered, and he walked to the edge of the campsite in search of the Chosen.
“The others have gone,” they heard Robyn’s disembodied voice announce from somewhere in the distance.
“Robyn?” Filaree questioned, unable to locate his physical presence. “What did you say?” she asked tentatively, while rising simultaneously, her hand already on the hilt of her sword.
Cairn returned to Filaree’s side and sent out a mental call to Calyx, uncertain himself if something untoward had happened while they slept. Within moments, they could hear a thrashing through the distant brush, as the Moulant bounded to his friend’s side.
At the same time, Robyn too emerged from the dark brush nearby and walked toward the other two.
“Tomas, Elion and Preston left. They did not wake us, as was their intention, and they did not leave a message of any kind. They must have known we would try to find them if they did,” Robyn said calmly, apparently unalarmed.
“Why would they go without letting us know? Why would they go at all?” Filaree questioned, though not quite as calmly as Robyn.
“We are the ones who have been ‘called’, not they. We are the only three who must go to Seramour. I can only assume that they determined that they had a different need to attend to,” Robyn said.
The Awakening Page 13