Finding Eden

by Camilla Beavers

  The door falls off its hinge as I push it open and walk into the empty house. For some reason I just know Illidan is in here. It's like a tingly spidey sense. I slowly creep through the old house, trying my best to hear above the sound of my bare feet whispering against the old stone.

  “Illidan.” I whisper his name and listen as it echoes against the walls and somehow I know he can hear me. Why isn't he coming out?

  I clutch the book page in my hand, the paper crinkling and beginning to moisten as my hand sweats. The hall in the old house seems to go on for forever, and even though I haven't turned a single corner, I already feel lost. The hall ends and opens up into a large room, some sort of dining room or dance room. My feet carry me into the room and I feel something swoop down behind me, blocking my exit.

  “Pity. I thought you were dead.”

  I whirl around and Illidan is standing there watching me with his yellow eyes, the low light in the room making the puckered scar across his face look more gruesome. He clutches the hilt of his sword for a few moments before unsheathing it.

  “You don't have to do this. I came here to try and talk you out of doing these crazy things.”

  I feel like trying to talk some sense into him, but all I can think about is my stupidity in leaving Sahariel in the dark.

  “Hmm,” he looks at the blade of his sword, “you call them crazy, but all I'm trying to do is restore my family. Do you understand what I mean?”

  “You're talking about your family not being shown in the records.”

  “I see you've done your homework. I also know that you know what it feels like to have your family dirtied, and I also know the things you would do to keep them from being tarnished any more than they have been.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Remember,” he asks, twirling he sword about, “It wasn't so long ago that you robbed your great uncle of all his emotions.”

  “But you're killing people!”

  “Are you trying to tell me you wouldn't?”

  Shaking my head, I glare at him.

  “For something as petty as honor? No,” I say. “Nothing is worth the cost of another person’s life.”

  Something hard connects with my face and I'm thrown to the floor. Warmth trickles down my face and without touching I know its blood. The scarlet liquid rolls down my face and off my chin, pooling on the cold, stone floor beneath me. I shake my head and don't bother to get up.

  “Family means everything to me.” He says bitterly. “My family is all I've ever had, and now they're gone. Everything is gone.”

  I laugh with sorrow quietly to the floor. He doesn't realize what he's said and who he's said it to. But he probably won't let me have time to explain anyway. I look over at him just in time for my eyes to look up into his with pity seconds before his foot connects with my stomach.

  My eyes clamp closed as I try not to scream out in pain. My arms wrap around my stomach but it's no use. I can't breathe and it hurts. My arms serve no protection as he continues to kick me in the side, spots black out my vision and a coppery taste starts to fill my mouth.

  “What,” he stops kicking me for a second. “You're not going to beg for mercy, not going to pray that I stop, hope the pain ends?”

  “Will doing so make you listen to me and understand me?”

  Surprisingly, he actually thinks about it for a few seconds. Either that or he puts on a show of thinking about it.

  “Probably not.”

  “Then no,” I say. “If my death will stop the deaths of others than I am willing to make that sacrifice. But if you do kill me, I know you will regret it.”

  “I have yet to regret anything I've done so far.”

  “Not yet, but you will.”

  He screams then, and I wince as the sound enters my ears. He hauls me up by the back of my shirt and throws me forward into a mirror I didn't even know was in the room.

  “Don't pretend like you know me,” He snaps, shoving me into the broken face of the mirror, grinding my exposed flesh into the shards of glass.

  “I don't know you,” I admit. “But I know you're angry, and hurt. I can tell just by looking at you. You're also confused. You're wondering if what you're doing is right because you know deep down that killing is wrong, but you also feel wronged.”

  Screaming, he presses me against the mirror with such force I feel like my ribs may break then pulls me away and throws me across the room. A stone bench is there to break my fall, and I land awkwardly across my left arm. I hear a snap and a rush of agonizing pain courses through my arm and up my shoulder. I whimper in pain, and I don't know why I try now to escape, but I begin to pull myself away from Illidan.

  I manage to make it to the opposite wall and slowly stand, cradling my arm in my hand. I look up and Illidan is already halfway across the room, anger rolling off him, his sword poised to strike. I lift my arms, one last pitiable defense against him. One I know won't work. And then he's upon me, his sword hefted high above him.

  “Cousin, no!” I yell before I can stop myself, my eyes shut tight against any oncoming pain.

  But there is none. I open my eyes and see his killing blow stopped in the air above me, a confused expression on his face.

  “What did you just call me?”

  I can't answer. A scream rips its way through my body and out of my throat as a sword protrudes straight through Illidan's heart and out of his chest.

  I fall to my knees as he slumps to the ground, his head making an awful cracking sound as it hits the floor. His blood pools beneath him and I can't help but feel relief at being alive, but sad that I wasn't able to talk to him.

  Sahariel's sword falls to the ground and he rushes to me. He begins checking the cuts on my face and my arms and hisses at my left, and says things to me that I cannot hear. I just see Illidan lying on the floor and feel the paper crumpled in my fist.

  I move to my hands and knees and slowly crawl over to him. I kneel by his head and he stares back at me.

  “This is what I wanted to show you,” I manage to flatten the paper with only one hand and hold it for him to see.

  “What is it?”

  “I found it in the library after having pulled the backing off of my family’s record book.”

  “Why are you showing this to me?”

  “Because, look,” I point at the page. “You’re on here. You're my cousin, in so many words. We have more in common than you'd think. We both have last names. Only those who have a human parent have last names. Your mother was human, just like mine.”

  “Your father wasn't cast out, your family wasn't forgotten or taken out of the books to try and hurt you. Your father didn't want to think about any of it, so he must have requested to have his name removed from the books. When someone loses their soul mate, whether they're human or not, a part of them dies too. That's how it is for my dad, and I'm sure that's how it was for your dad.”

  “So, we weren't cast out?”

  “No.”

  “There was no reason for me to do what I did.”

  “Not really,” I say, even though it's not a question. “But I can understand why you did it.”

  A small smile breaks across Illidan's face and relief washes off of him.

  “I'm happy,” he says. “That you found that page. I hope you put it back where it belongs.”

  “I will,” I say.

  “At least I can die happy now.”

  “I'm sorry.”

  “You have nothing to apologize for. It wasn't your doing. Just promise me that you will never let this happen to anyone else.” He looks at me with hopeful eyes.

  “I promise,” I say.

  I watch as I feel him slip away and his eyes slowly close. I feel Sahariel walk up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder. I feel wet tears slip down my face.

  “I promise you he will receive a proper burial.” Sahariel says.

  “Thank you.”

  “Come on,” he offers to help me up. “Let’s get
you back to the castle and get you taken care of.”

  I set Illidan's head down and cross his arms over his chest, wincing as my arm moves unpleasantly. Sahariel wraps his arms around me and sweeps me off to the castle.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  We stumble through the castle doors and a wave of servants rushes at me. A new sensation ripples across my mind and somehow I immediately know what it means.

  “The records room,” I manage to gasp through the shooting pains, “Someone is trying to enter the records room.”

  Sahariel waves down a nearby guard, says something in his ear and motions for him to hurry. Sahariel drags me through the castle, never once letting me go. Damien, having rushed from somewhere, babbles incoherent, breathless words at me. The pain is soothed, but my once adrenaline filled mind is now exhausted and my eyes begin to close.

  “It's okay,” I hear Damien sooth Sahariel. “It’s just the anesthesia. Her arm is broken and I need to set it.”

  Before everything fades to black, my muddled mind hears Sahariel growl about my broken arm.

  …

  I open my eyes and squint through the horribly bright hospital lights. I really should talk to someone about the intensity of the lighting. I lift my arms to rub my eyes, but my left arm won't bend. Looking down at it, I see that it's wrapped in an off white cast. I had almost forgotten about my broken arm. I hear the door open and I look over expecting to find Sahariel, but Marius has come in instead.

  “Illidan's funeral is today.” He tells me.

  “What? How long have I been out?”

  “Only a couple of days,” he says. “You had us all worried, you know. Sahariel has just about gone berserk on everyone today.”

  “Am I allowed to go to the funeral?” I ask.

  “Yes you are,” he smiles at me. “That’s why I'm here to get you. Sahariel is busy with Kal. Something to do with security.”

  I remember something.

  “Did they find the person who was trying to get into the records room?” I ask.

  “Ah, yes, they did.”

  “Who was it?”

  “You know Kie?” I shake my head no, “He was the one of the other strategists. He was the one who always opposed the decisions you made, no matter how sound they were.”

  A bell chimes in my head and I finally remember the man he's talking about. All crossed arms and disgruntled face.

  “Why was he there?”

  “As it turns out,” Marius says. “He was there to steal copies of correspondents between our army units. He was giving them to our enemy.”

  So that's how we weren't winning. It was like playing Battleship with someone who could see both sides of the board clearly.

  “Did he say why he was doing it?”

  “He said he was promised status and riches. Apparently he's gullible and believed them. Pity he didn't know that they were most likely going to kill him had they actually won the war. But now that he's been caught, the war has taken a striking turn in our favor. I foresee a white flag in the future.”

  I smile at him, glad that he is still my friend. He hands me a pile of black clothing and leaves the room, giving me time to change. It's a little difficult due to the cast, but I somehow manage to get myself stuffed into the black dress.

  Marius smiles at me as I walk out of the room and offers his arm. I take it and have him lead me to the most depressing thing I've ever been to.

  ...

  I stand at the head of the casket as it's slowly lowered into the ground. For the first time since I've been here the sky has turned a murky gray and the wind is blowing heavily, pulling my dress out in front of me.

  Prayers are said for the man who assassinated my grandfather and tried to murder me as well. A tear slowly rolls down my cheek as I think about the type of man Illidan Sornova could have been had his life been just a little different. Sahariel walks up to me, puts his hand on my elbow and leads me away as the closing prayers end.

  “I'm never going to allow that to happen,” I say. “I promised him, and I won't break that promise. People will never be just, forgotten, like that. Ripped out and discarded into the back of an old book.”

  Sahariel doesn't say anything. He is quiet for a long time as we walk into the castle and then into my room. He closes the door behind us.

  “Never again,” he finally says. “You will never, ever do that to me again.”

  “I'm sorry.”

  “You almost got yourself killed. Again!”

  He stops pacing faces me, “I feel like I have almost lost you too many times. That will never happen again. I am never letting you out of my sight again. Do you understand?”

  I nod and look back at him as his golden eyes search mine. What he's searching for, I don't know, but the way he's looking at me so intensely is making it hard for me to think. I finally manage to come up with a coherent question after a moment or two.

  “You keep saying 'lose you again.' Why do you always say that?”

  Then he sighs.

  “I guess I should have told you a long time ago. I just didn't know how to approach the subject. You know I was your mothers guard, and you know I was her guard during the time she died.”

  “Yes.”

  “A lot of people blame me for her death, and to be honest I would too. But what no one knows is why I wasn't there, and if they did I believe they would understand my selfish act. But it was selfish, so I choose not to tell anyone.”

  “You were just seventeen days old when your heart gave up. The doctors at the hospital said the only reason you survived is because of how quickly you were taken there. I left your mother and took you to the hospital as quickly as I could. She said she would follow. I was there within minutes and I contacted your father. Then it hit him; your mother’s death reached him before the call did.”

  “He's a broken man, Eden, and the moment I saw that in his eyes I vowed never to let you get that close ever again.”

  “I will never lose you, Eden,” he says. “I love you too much to be a broken man.”

  I stare at him, watch him as he stands and walks from the room. Am I dreaming? I must have fallen asleep and all of this is just a dream. It has to be, right? I'm dumbfounded, and I stare at the door for what must have been an hour until a yawn strikes me and I crawl in to bed, dress and all. I don't care. I just need sleep. Everything will make sense in the morning.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  It's as awkward as Sahariel said it would be. I look around the room and I'm curious how many of the people here were couples before this particular event rolled around. Wouldn't surprise me if they weren't. Sahariel had told me this thing only rolls around every twenty-five years. Made sense to me, but it's still awkward being in a room full of couples making googly eyes at each other.

  “Why am I even here?” I bemoan to myself.

  All of the other single people had left already, so why didn't I go with them? I take a deep breath and ready myself to leave when I feel Sahariel walk in the room behind me. His fingers brush down my bare arm in greeting.

  “Leaving so soon?”

  I can hear him smiling.

  “Yeah, didn't you know only the cool people leave the party early?”

  The sentence was meant to sound joking, but it comes out tense and awkward. I look away from the happy couples in front of me and down at my feet. I move to walk around Sahariel, afraid of what I may or may not see in his eyes. I still wasn't sure if last night was a dream or not.

  “Eden.”

  I stop in my tracks. My arm has brushed up against his and I feel it when he slowly turns to face me. His fingers brush my chin so I lift my face to look into his eyes. No matter how many times I look into them, sometimes the way they shimmer always seem to take my breath away.

  There's so much emotion there that I don't know what’s true and what just my wishful thinking is. With those thoughts always comes voicelessness, but when those fingers beneath my chin whisper up my jaw, over my ear a
nd trail into my hair, all that love I thought I saw all those times and thought I felt is finally validated by that outwardly insignificant touch.

  He's looking at me with such intensity that I can't help but be overly aware of my surroundings; the other couples, the dim hall, everything. Then his lips touch mine and there is nothing else. The world spins away from me and heat rushes along my body. My fingers find their way into Sahariel's hair and I pull myself closer to him. All too soon the kiss ends and I can't keep the sigh from leaving my lips. He leans his forehead against mine and runs his fingers through my hair.

  “I have wanted to do that for so long,” he says. “I just wish I had done it sooner.”

  “Why didn't you?”

  “Because I was stupid. But now, after almost losing you too many times, I have decided that being worried about propriety was the most idiotic thing ever.”

  Then he's kissing me again. His arms snake around my waist and my heart is pounding in my chest. Fire blazed through my body making sure that doubt can never grow again. I try the best I can to wrap my arms around his neck, despite the cast, but I don't give it too much thought. All I can think about are his lips on mine, the feel of his body against me and the desire that blazes.

  Prologue

  “Okay, what do you think?” I hold my arms out at my side, showing my outfit to Sahariel.

  “I think you're thinking about this too much.” He says and kisses me.

  “I just don't want them to think I look strange,” I frown at myself in the mirror, tugging on the hem of my shirt, smoothing out my pants.”

  “Quit fidgeting,” he says. “You're pregnant, not deformed.”

  I huff at him and try to smooth my shirt over my swollen belly once again.

  “That's enough,” he says, grabbing my hand and twining our fingers. “We're going to be late. You look great, you always do. Stop worrying.”

  We leave the shop, the owner bowing slightly in recognition as we walk through the door. I smile back at her and wonder if she has any humans in her employment; if she ever comes home.