“And if things were not as you say they are?”
Cole laughs bitterly. “It is useless to try to change what is, so why should I ponder on what could have been?”
The sour tone in his voice makes her regret broaching the subject. And as he spoke of his hopeless love, the more she felt she could relate. How could she ever hope to compete with this woman whom he has, in not so many words, deemed as perfect? She can now admit her foolishness. She had blamed Chris for her own ignorance. The futility of her puerile infatuation would have crushed her spirit had it not been for the sudden recollection of her duty. Her duty transcends all else, even love, and it is the means to her survival.
Sitting down on one of the log benches crudely placed around the remains of a campfire, he clasps his hands together before him with his elbows resting on his knees and questions politely, “Cara, may I ask you a personal question without you taking offense?”
Cara sits down across from him, her posture involuntarily mimicking his. “You may ask the question but, as to my offense, that depends on the question.” She hangs her head and whispers, “But even if I were to take offense, you at least had the propriety to warn me, unlike myself.”
Noting her discomfort, but uncertain as to the source of it, he continues, “Cara, why did you defend me, or rather, why did you feel the need to address Lt. Atkins’ behavior, and in front of us for that matter?”
She had been expecting a What is Oracle Seven? or Were you and Chris a couple? but this, this she had not been prepared for. She had been ready to give facts and reasons, but this question puts into play her feelings and, given her feelings, any reasons she may have given to hide those feelings would be transparent. Her mind struggles to form some excuse, some lie, but the effort is in vain. She could not lie to him. This much she had already admitted to herself. Sighing, she looks up at him, avoiding the deep black wells of his eyes in fear of getting lost in them forever.
“I wanted Chris to see that I was no longer the frightened girl he had once known. I once thought that I loved him. But I was young and it was convenient because I knew that he loved me. From the way he was treating you I knew that he was jealous, and I played on that. He had been cruel and deserved the shame. I want you to trust me.” She dares to look straight into his eyes now. “But those are only excuses. True, it is what I did and it is what has happened and it is what I thought, but they do not answer your question. The why is this: I felt that I owed it to you. I felt that I had to prove something to you. And by you, I do not mean you and Ashe. I mean only you.” She studies his reaction, disappointed by his apparent indifference. Sighing, she tears her eyes away from his, suddenly flushed and becoming annoyed by his interminable silence. She shakes her head, admonishing herself. What had she expected? Him to rush to her side and comfort her? Profess his undying love for her?
Cole stares at her, even after she looks away, seeing the weakness she obviously felt. But the sight of her has never invoked in him a sense of pity. She possesses this inner strength and confidence; a fiery determination that flares just beneath the surface. He could see it in her eyes whenever she dared to look at him. And when she did look at him, there was a connection. He could not explain it; himself unsure whether it was mere curiosity or something more. She was a mystery to him; infusing him with a desire to unlock her secrets.
And, more importantly, she is here, a reality unclouded by the fantasy borne from years harboring thoughts of what could have been. He had been foolish before. And now he is scared. Lara had been safe, convenient, because he knew that she would never see him as anything more than a brother. With Cara, he is in danger of having the walls he had so carefully built around his heart come crashing down. Of course, all these feelings he kept hidden behind a mask of indifference. It hadn’t been hard. He has been wearing one for most of his life. In seeing the despair wrought on Cara’s face, though, he knew it was time to put the mask aside. He wanted to comfort her, tell her what he has come to understand his own weakness, but the words simply wouldn’t come. He found his mouth opening and closing, and his hand twitching, but his thoughts escaped from the confines of his mind as if someone had thrown open a door.
She rises to leave and he sees his chance slipping through his fingers. Cara is not the inconstant and intangible wind, but in the next moment she would be gone just the same. Her back is to him now and he feels more than sees the ends of a rope fraying and its separate threads spreading out to live their independent lives in the obscurity of an unknown yet decidedly harsh world. Some feeling stirs deep within him, agonizing in its sudden intensity. A slight breeze ruffles his clothing, seeming to calm him and allow him to gather his thoughts as if it had pushed the door to the cell of his mind closed. Standing, he speaks softly. “The wind whispers to my soul….”
Cara stops at the sound of his voice, its softness melting her and nearly bringing her to tears. She can feel him looking at her and she is immediately regretful. She should never have stopped. She is only torturing herself. She cries under her breath. “Please, don’t speak….” Biting her lip, she takes a few steps forward.
Cole clears his throat. “The wind whispers to my soul, igniting the fires of my heart and rescuing me from this sea of despair…. ”
She finds her feet stopping once more. Her mind wills them to keep moving but they refuse to listen. Her heart pounds as his words echo through her head and fill her soul with longing.
Stepping forward, he whispers, “To the earth my body is bound, but my spirit wanders the boundless horizons of the heavens. The current of your love sparks new hope….”
Cara clenches her fists at her sides as she finishes the poem, “Yet from the arms of love I flee, falling from Grace to the dark depths of eternity.” Turning her head only very slightly, she whispers, “The Song of the Forsaken.”
Cole moves behind her, his breath warm against the back of her neck. “Yes. It’s strange really. I had always done my best to avoid the fantasy realms of myth and magic, but it seems that the past few years of my life have been spent in a daydream.” He laughs at the irony. “And now the reality that I finally face seems to lie in the words of a poem straight from legend.”
Cara looks down at the ground, painfully conscious of his proximity and the unexpected turn their encounter had taken. “So, are you forsaken as well? Do you fear to love?”
He laughs uneasily. “Why is it that I can face twenty creatures of the dark without even breaking a sweat, but the moment I face you, I can barely even breathe?” Wiping his sleeve against his damp brow, he is somehow not surprised that his hands are shaking. His entire body tingles and he passes into a hysterical stage of unexplained euphoria. “Your presence does something to me, and I can no longer hide behind the apathetic walls that serve to both protect and imprison.” He places a hand on her shoulder, forcing her to face him. “Cara, will you help me break free? Or will you leave me forsaken?”
Looking into his eyes and for once seeing the emotion that he had tried so hard to conceal, her resolve shatters. This man before her is broken, asking her to mend the wounds he has ignored for so long. She can see him being suffocated by his own doubt, dragging her down with him. She lifts her chin in sudden confidence. “No. I cannot help you.”
He desperately searches her features for an answer, confused. “You will not help me? You will forsake me?”
Cara smiles sadly. “I said that I cannot help you. There is a difference. And you have forsaken yourself.”
She turns to leave but Cole gently grabs her arm. His mouth drops open, but then he closes it in defeat. Releasing her arm, he whispers hoarsely, “Will you return to Verdana now?”
She nods. “My duty here is done. But another task awaits me.” She hesitates and then finally looks at him again. “Cole, I … take care of yourself.” She holds her breath for a moment, fighting her urge to resist and losing, but the inertia of reason keeps her moving forward. She dare not look back. She has made the first step. She must se
e this through. She can be of no help to him if he has already admitted defeat.
He watches her slender form walk steadily away from him, her soft brown hair loosely swaying in the gentle breeze. He remembers now that he had forgotten to tell her how beautiful it was, not all constrained and twisted up into a bun. She is a woman with a character to match his own, and now she dons the mask he had finally laid aside. A drop of wetness falls upon his cheek and he furiously wipes it away. He can feel the walls he had torn down being rebuilt. He had taken a chance and had been denied. This time, he would fortify his walls with the regret of a love that was refused the chance to blossom. Each brick would serve as a reminder of a longing, and now, a painful truth.
With each step she took his wall grew higher and thicker, but her words laced with some harrowing prescience stayed with him and halted him in his task. He pants heavily as the new barriers of his existence bulge with uncertainty. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he calls out. “Cara!”
Seeing her falter, he runs towards her, Shadow sprinting alongside him. He stops in front of her, blocking her path, breathing heavily and smiling. “Cara, will you fly with me?”
A light dances in her eyes as she opens her mouth in unrestrained delight. But an overwhelming sadness paints her features with its hopeless hues and her mouth closes, setting into a frown. “How can you fly with broken wings?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The dark knight kneels before a regal woman dressed in a low-cut gown shimmering white with the light of the artificial moon. “It is done, my queen.” He turns up his head as the corner of his mouth twists into a sinister smile. “The wheels of war have been set in motion, and the Chosen have taken up the cause.”
Mala leans forward in her throne of twisted metal gleaming black and white, her long hair falling before her in rivulets of a black stream. “You find this amusing, my lord?”
The man rises to his feet, clearly unafraid of this powerful woman sitting before him. “I find it pathetic, Your Grace, and none less than we had expected. They have been secluded and now the world will come rushing in at their feet, asking them to save it. They have only just learned of their powers and are but children, in all senses of the word. Their power may be great someday, but that day has not yet come; nor will they ever surpass your own power, which has been strong for the better part of thirteen years and growing stronger with each day that passes. Pardon my forthrightness, my queen, but they have no chance.” He snickers as a sly smile stretches across his face. “Humanity gets in the way of human ideals.”
Leaning back in her chair, she sighs in frustration, “You underestimate them. Just as you had underestimated me. You forget there had been a time when I was the pupil and you the master.” She motions to the luxury around them. “And now, look at what we have become. Look at what I have accomplished. I am not ready to lose all I have gained just because I was too blind to see my own weaknesses. They may be children, but they are not without their seven stupid guides.” She smiles at the discrepancy. “Six.”
The man smiles with her. “However, I still think you put too much faith in them. After all, what is faith to one such as you? What is loyalty? Love?”
She rubs her temple. “I tire of your games. Make your point and then leave me to my solitude.”
He bows deeply. “As you wish, my queen. The point is that there is no point. The war gives you something to do, an outlet of the power surging through you. In the end you will gain nothing, and you know this. All you have is this waste of a continent, your power waiting to be unleashed, an army of the dead and magical, and me. You may gain the world, but what will you do with it? Everyone will be dead, everything will be scorched, and as for the one you seek … well, what love can you possibly bear for him? You tried to kill him. And when everything is said and done, when the world is nothing more than ashen remains, only I will stand beside you.”
Mala scoffs, but her lips curl in amusement. “You presume far beyond what suits your station. You are a resource, that is all, and you know this. And in knowing this, I am left wondering why you stay. Why do you remain as my most loyal of pets? Or is that a deception? Do you plan to betray me, just as you have betrayed your friends and your duty? Or do you hope to gain something from this arrangement? Oh, yes, you only wish to serve, as you have repeatedly stated; that, and stand beside me as I look upon the ruin of the world.” She yawns meaningfully. “You are beginning to bore me. And you do realize what I do to pets in which I have lost interest, don’t you?”
The knight strides towards the platform, the black curls atop his head bouncing in rhythm with his step. He stops short of the throne and presents himself with the utmost confidence as he spreads his hands palms up before him in mock supplication. “This choice is my own, and as long as you will have me I am yours. But know this: I am not your minion, Mala. I come to you as a man. I am no more and no less. True, I have witnessed countless lifetimes and have been endowed with certain knowledge, but I am still a man. And you, my queen, to whom I have imparted my knowledge, are still a woman. And you speak of my betrayal as if it were only yesterday. I have come too far, come too close to achieving my goal, to turn back now. And if I remember correctly, it was you who came to me, the jaded princess who wanted revenge. Through me shall you have your vengeance, but only if you let go of the light and step deeper into darkness. You continue to cling to your life line formed of hope, faith, and loyalty … and love, but these are nothing compared to the power that I can give you.” He holds out his hand, offering it to her as if it were the most priceless of gifts.
Mala smiles as she rises from her throne to accept the proffered hand, to accept the darkness. “And what is your goal, my sweet?”
The dark knight chuckles. “Now that you want something from me, I am no longer your pet? Even if I was of a mind to divulge my plans to you it would make no difference, for then I would have to kill you.” He waves his hand before him and a dark portal opens menacingly, a supernatural rend in the fabric of time and space.
Her eyes glitter with avarice as the purple abyss contracts and convulses, the rhythm of its pulsation a sourceless call beckoning to her from oblivion and charging the air around it with its undeniable power. Taking his arm in her hand, the corner of her mouth twisting ever so slightly, she lets her black knight lead her into the darkness.
Leaving behind the world of the living and entering into the shadow realm, the couple steps through the gaping maw swirling with the rage of some malevolent storm and the portal disappears behind them, blinking out of existence. Mala releases her companion’s hand and takes a step forward. Peering over the precipitous ledge, she smiles and beckons for her knight to join her.
He does not warrant the chasm with even the smallest of glimpses, himself already knowing what rests therein. Instead he closes his eyes and listens, listens to the moans of the dead as they mumble their eternal agony. He could sense them standing, swaying to some unseen and sinister melody, awaiting the redemption that will never come. These thousands of dead men are forsaken, for in their stubbornness they shunned the light. So when the time of their death was upon them, they had no power to escape the darkness. He opens his eyes and smiles, relishing in his victory. Turning towards Mala, he bows deeply and calls forth in exultation to the heaving mass below them. “Bow before your queen, oh minions of the dark, and you shall rise up once more as stayers of the light.”
A cry issues forth from the dead and rotting as they uniformly lower to their knees, as if such a simple act held within it the gift of rebirth. Their unintelligible moans now a chorus of expectant voices, calling out the name of their queen. “Mala! Mala! Mala!” Allegiance was a small price to pay compared to the prospect of an eternity in Hell.
Mala spreads open her arms in a gesture of invitation. “Rise, my army of the dead, and be welcome, for you are home.”
* * *
Jessica lies motionless upon the wooden floor of her room, her fingers still clutching the bla
nket which she had pulled off the bed when she had fallen. Her eyes stare unblinkingly at the dusty rafters of the ceiling, but then she squeezes them shut and a rasping breath escapes from her slightly parted lips as she desperately tries to drive away the nightmare displaying itself before her. Her breathing settles and she lets out a moan in accordance with the soreness pervading her every muscle.
Slowly, and with the aid of the bedpost, she pulls herself up. A few moments pass and she is finally able to stand on her own two feet, albeit rather unsteady at first. Plodding her way towards the door, her leaden feet threatening to drag her down with each step, she painstakingly obtains her goal and upon reaching it leans her weary forehead against the warm wood of the door.
She can hear voices, strange voices, originating from the other side of the barricade. They are strange in that she does not recognize them and one of them she simply does not understand why she is hearing it. Is she still dreaming? Or is she hallucinating? She puts her ear against the door in order to hear the conversation better.
The masculine voice that is not supposed to be there is speaking now.
“Were there any other survivors? What news of the Emerald Castle?” His voice is almost accusatory. “Was there no warning? Were the stone walls and iron gate of no protection? How dare they? What are they looking for?”
She hears Kae’s voice, trying to soothe the angry man. “Chase, you’re frightening them. I know that you’re angry, we all are, but you must calm down. We all seek the same answers, but we must first attend to the survivors. You have to realize that this is war and innocents will be caught in the middle of it. You can’t save everyone and you cannot change what has already happened. Verdana is gone.” She speaks to the strangers. “Come, rest. When you are ready, we will talk. Joel, will you please get some extra blankets from my room? Thank you.”
Book One: Beginnings Page 18