The Last Legend: Awakened

by Joshua B. Wichterich

  She looked away from his dark eyes. His eyes appeared passionate, burning with fire. It scared her that a man whom she didn’t even know grew passionate for her. She tried to think of something quickly to change the subject.

  “I mean no harm, I only need time to myself,” Marrisa said as she continued into her room.

  He pulled at her arm, yanking her to him. Some of the wine in the goblet she was carrying splashed out onto her white gown, dripping down as a slow-moving red stain.

  “You’ve had ample time to yourself, and soon you will be on my time. I will have none of this childishness in Ishkar. You are my future wife and queen, and I expect you to act like it. You will surrender to my requests—submitting to me like a flower to the sun,” the prince said as he pulled her closer to him. Their chests were pressing against each other now as he said this.

  He went to kiss her but she turned her head quickly. His lips caught her cheek. He looked at her, not saying anything as he peered into her crystal blue eyes.

  The tension in the hallway was so thick that it seemed as if one could cut it with even a dull knife.

  “You are like a rose—beautiful to gaze upon but painful to the touch…,” he said with a grimaced look upon his face.

  After what seemed like hours, he left as quickly as he came.

  Marrisa felt every emotion creep upon her except for happiness. She raised her hand to her mouth as she slowly walked into her room. Her head and emotions whirled as she began to cry.

  “Is everything well with you, my lady?” one of her handmaidens asked with a concerned look on her face.

  “Leave me,” Marrisa said in a low and trembling voice, “I don’t need your assistance—anymore this evening. Go away… Take the rest of the evening off.”

  “But, my lady…” The servant girl looked worried.

  “Did you hear what I told you to do?! Can you not hear?! Leave! Me!” Marrisa shouted out, releasing her anger. Her voice echoed down the stone hallway as she turned to the surprised looking handmaidens.

  Marrisa had never shouted at her servants or showed any kind of anger before. She never shouted at anyone else for that matter.

  The handmaidens quickly glanced at each other, speechless, then left quickly, shutting the door behind them.

  Marrisa was alone again, and she began to feel an overwhelming wave of anger and depression wrap around her trembling body like taunting hands. She walked slowly to the center of her room, feeling as if the floor would fall from beneath her. She still carried her half full goblet of wine and slowly brought the goblet to her lips, drinking the rest of the wine down as tears swelled up in her eyes.

  The wine was getting to her—and her emotions were like a storm. She had to sit down. She slowly made her way to her vanity which sat beside her bed, allowing herself to fall into the chair. Marrisa looked around her lonely room, realizing that a bright fire was ablaze in the large fireplace. The curtains of the arched threshold that led to the balcony was open, letting the cool breezes from the night come in. She hadn’t seen Lilith all day, and knew it was her who lit the fireplace and unfastened the balcony curtains.

  Marrisa looked into the mirror that sat on top of the beautifully carved vanity. She sat and stared for a while, which seemed to her like hours. She noticed that her eyes were puffy; and even though she couldn’t see that they were red, she knew they were because they burned. Marrisa stared more into the mirror, noticing how pathetic and imprudent she looked. She didn’t like her reflection at that moment. She despised the person she was looking at, the person she was becoming. An overpowering feeling of anger shot through her body as she began to cry harder. She didn’t want to look at herself anymore and wished that her face could be erased at that moment.

  “I hate you,” a strange voice came into her head like an uninvited guest…

  Disturbed by the silent voice, Marrisa began to quickly look all around her. She thought she saw movement in the shadows of her dark chamber. Tears continued to trickle down her flushed cheeks as paranoia came over her. Her reflection in the mirror caught her attention again. She looked again at her pale face. She whispered, “I hate you”, to herself unknowingly. She didn’t realize she did as she watched her lips move.

  “I hate you!” Marrisa screamed at her reflection as her fist tightened around the stem of her goblet.

  She let out another frustrated scream as she smashed the goblet into the mirror. She pounded the glass with her goblet a couple of times, releasing the anger that built up inside of her. Pieces of glass flew everywhere, looking like twinkling stars as they sparkled in the fire light. Some cut her face and hand, allowing small drops of deep-red blood to emit from her fair skin.

  She stood up quickly then pushed over her vanity and chair. She breathed rapidly as her gaze fell upon the old family portrait that hung above the fire place. The smiles of her parents seemed to tease her. “Fake smiles… Unloving smiles!” Marrisa thought. Anger began to fill her heart again as she let out another scream—throwing the goblet at the painting with all of her might. The portrait fell onto the ground, and without any kind of pause or guilt, she quickly grabbed the large painting and shoved it into the fire place…

  Marrisa walked to the middle of her chamber without looking at the burning and crackling painting. She fell to her knees, allowing herself to fall the rest of the way to the ground. She lay there for a moment as she pounded her fist against the cold stone floor. She then slowly sat up, realizing that her hands were covered with blood. Negative thoughts ran through her head as she looked to the glass stricken ground. She thought it would do not only her good, but Prince Phillip good as well if she were to just end it all... He didn’t need her and she didn’t need him. She felt worthless. She began to understand that her existence was pointless…

  Small voices in her head made her think that ending her life would be the right thing to do, that she would never be a good queen, and that she would hate her life and her husband that she didn’t even know. She believed the thoughts that came into her mind—and she didn’t think of anything else…

  Marrisa’s bloody hand slowly crept across the floor to a piece of the broken mirror. It was large and sharp like a knife and appeared as a shiny blade, reflecting the movement of the fire light. More tears flowed down her cheeks as her head continued to whirl. No thoughts of her father, Tairren or even Natalia came across her mind. All she knew was that the bitter sweet feeling of wanting to die came across her shaken body like the brisk crash of ocean waves into jagged rocks.

  Marrisa held up her white wrist as she slowly tilted her head. Her breathing pattern began to slow as her heart calmed down somewhat. But her heartbeat was loud in her ears. She could feel the blood in her veins rush towards her pulsating wrist. She began to hear her blood like a pounding hammer. It seemed to beg to be cut as her seemingly loud heart-beat pumped through her chest. She slowly brought the sliver of glass to her wrist, holding it tightly in her other hand. Blood poured from the palm of her trembling hand, which slowly dripped down the white sleeve of her gown and onto her lap.

  “Why me, God?!” Marrisa screamed out to the darkness around her. “I know you can see my beating heart! They say your blood was spilled for mine! You know what I’ve been through! Why me?! I have no one who truly loves me. I have no mother—my father doesn’t value me… Why was I chosen?! What value am I—what is my worth?! How am I to love a kingdom or anybody else if I do not love myself?! There are so many people much wiser than I…” She began to sob again as she shook her head. “Say something!”

  Marrisa continued to cry as she lowered her aching head. She closed her watery eyes tightly, holding her breath as she attempted to put pressure down onto her wrist with the ice-cold glass dagger. She could feel the sharp edge of the glass slowly cut into her wrist. She could end it all with one deep slit—and she decided that she was going to…

  “Is He really listening?” a low and familiar voice said from behind her.

  “Oh, God!�
� Marrisa gasped, startled. She turned her head quickly, stopping the attempt of her bitter-sweet suicide.

  “No God—just me… But I see you—I see your beating heart…,” the voice said.

  Marrisa’s surprised face found a dark silhouetted figure slowly creeping upon her. The figure skulked out of the dark shadows of the room and into the light of the fire. It was Lilith, appearing as a ghost as she made her way to Marrisa.

  “Lilith!” Marrisa shrieked as she tried to stand up without falling over. She still held the bloody piece of glass in her hand.

  “Oh my... How surprising,” Lilith said in a low and teasing voice. Her face was as white as snow and her eyes were as black as the night’s sky. “We have a very serious problem here… What would come of your father? Another death in his life would drive him to darkness… And who would help rule Ishkar? It would be devastating to waist such innocent and royal blood all over this cold, stone floor… Yes it would...”

  She came face to face with Marrisa, slowly running her ice-cold hand down Marrisa’s arm. She took Marrisa’s bloody hand still holding the glass, and brought it up to her face.

  Marrisa was shocked, not realizing that Lilith had been in the room that whole time.

  “How dare you! Spying on me—watching me from the shadows!” Marrisa fussed nervously as she tried to pull her hand away from Lilith's grasp. She was stronger than Marrisa had expected.

  Lilith began to laugh, throwing her head back. Her breath was grotesque, smelling of something dead.

  “If only there was something I could do…” Lilith said teasingly. “Oh but there is something… It’s not your time to die—I need you.” Her face turned emotionless and deviant all of a sudden.

  Marrisa was quiet, confused as ever. Instead of being a worried and tender handmaiden, Lilith was threatening and furtive.

  “What do you mean, Lilith?” Marrisa asked in a low voice as Lilith continued to stare into her eyes, as if she was trying to peer into her soul.

  Lilith was still quiet, filling the atmosphere with a strange feeling of fear and darkness. She squeezed Marrisa’s wrist tightly, making her drop the bloody sliver of glass.

  Marrisa winced in pain as Lilith squeezed harder, not letting go.

  “You’re hurting me!” Marrisa shouted as Lilith brought her bloody hand to her mouth.

  Lilith let out a wicked chuckle as she stuck out her long tongue, licking the blood from her palm in one long stroke.

  Marrisa’s eyes widened with fear as she began to breathe harder. She was so shocked at what had just happened that she didn’t know what to say.

  “The taste of crimson innocence feels so good in my mouth,” Lilith said with that same wicked face.

  Lilith’s eyes were larger than normal and shiny and black as coal, with no sign of life behind them. She wiped her mouth with her white wrist, smearing the blood that was on her pale lips across her cheeks and chin.

  “Lilith, what has come over you?!” Marrisa asked in a shaky voice as she yanked her hand from Lilith's now not so tight grip. Fear spread across her body as she walked backwards, away from the disturbed looking Lilith.

  “Lilith is no longer here…,” she said, walking slowly towards her. “I have blown out her puny flame of a soul. Her rancid flesh is here with you, but her heart and soul is lost, forever. Father has finally taken her soul in full. Father has received her.”

  Marrisa was frightened and confused, and had no idea what she was talking about. Just then she heard the low rumbles of thunder as another great storm seemed to grow nearer. The soft flicker of lighting lit up the room for a quick second, making Lilith appear frightening. Her heart pounded rapidly as she raised her hands to her stomach. She felt as if she was going to get sick at any minute.

  “Have you gone mad?! What do you mean?” Marrisa couldn’t hide her fear as her voice shook.

  “I am not Lilith—she has been drifting away ever since I first beheld her disgusting body ten years ago. I am called Natas. But I am one of many. I am Friend of darkness, and lover of fear and uncertainty. I am servant to my dark lord, and stealer of souls. And I have been in your family from the beginning, snatching bodies, doing rituals, and drinking blood to please my father. But I’ve learned that I’ve been doing things wrong, ruining our quest for my great lord, not able to go through with his plans. I was sent here many ages ago, spawned by the old ways of Minslethrate; the old ways that your ancestors followed before that pig of a king tainted the ancient spiritual beliefs of the Minslethratian people many decades ago. He thought he could end the reign of the dark lord by bringing that putrid Book of Light into our world! But darkness will triumph again! The dark lord promised that I would become a god, if I complete my quest.”

  Marrisa couldn’t believe what she was hearing and didn’t know whether it was the consequences of drinking too much wine, or that Lilith's strange mind had truly deteriorated.

  Lilith ran her cold hand up Marrisa’s arm and caressed her neck and cheek. Marrisa closed her eyes, wincing in disgust as tears flowed down her cheeks.

  “Your innocent face is so—deliciously lovely,” the monster in Lilith’s body said, bringing its caressing fingers down her throat and over her chest. Lilith’s wondering fingers stopped at the red jewel necklace that her father had given her earlier. She held the blood-colored pendant away from Marrisa’s chest, staring into it with large black eyes.

  “Aaah, the undying symbol of royalty—filled with your family’s blood-line.” Lilith’s large black eyes slowly drifted up to Marrisa’s, penetrating her heart with a surge of fear. “I wore this necklace many years ago—in your grandmother’s skin—the queen of carnage,” it mocked, then smiled a huge demonic smile, appearing impossibly wide. “She, the exotic Queen Karnidge, your father’s mother, was from far, far away—and scared to death when I captured and dragged her to the Dark Temple—she was a perfect fit... But her black hair wasn’t nearly as lovely as your red hair—the color of blood…” Lilith's cold, white hand caressed the top of her jewel adorned head. “We all played a little game of chase before we became one with her.” Another disturbing smile crept upon its face again. “She came back to this kingdom, and ruled with a lust for blood—burning every drop of it in great screaming fires!” Another frightening laugh emitted from its mouth as Marrisa slowly walked backwards away from the thing.

  “You see—I was sent to make your life a living hell—to take all goodness away from you and your family. I was there, one of many, in your grandmother’s skin, making false and grotesque love to your grandfather, finally giving birth to your father; and by your grandfather’s side when I shoved a poisoned dagger into his wretched heart!” Marrisa placed her trembling bloody hand over her mouth, shaking her head in disbelief. “After I left your grandmother’s sickly body and became one with a brainless servant, I was there when your father, young and determined, stole this necklace from his mother’s dying body. Years later when your father married your mother, he gave the jewel to her. You see, I was here in this castle, fixing your mother’s hair and telling her how beautiful she looked—I wanted to vomit the whole time. I was there at your birth, assisting, and cleaning you off. And I was there, putting crushed deadly night-shade into your mother’s food and tea, watching her blissfully as she lay in a state of delirium, and waiting for that joyous day when her disgusting light-loving soul would leave this earth!”

  Large tears swelled up in Marrisa’s eyes as she shook frantically. She put her bloody hand to her chest, thinking that her heart would explode any minute now.

  “Your mouth stinks of cruelty… You are a liar!” Marrisa screamed, trying not to cry at some effort.

  “Yes, I am a deceiver,” she said with that wicked chuckle again. “But not this time, I think you need to know the truth,” she mocked. “You are part of me and I am part of you. Your soul is destined to be with us, to be with Lucif, Father… And if I’m lying, then how would I know that your beloved swine, Moira, was innocent ten years ago befo
re your father burned her at the stake!” She let out a terrible laugh as Marrisa’s knees went out, making her fall to the ground.

  Marrisa held herself up with her trembling hands—face down as she gasped for air. She was so overwhelmed with emotion that it was taking her breath away. The name Moira shot through her head like a lightning bolt as the memory of her being burned on the stake replayed over and over in her mind. She had never thought of Moira till that moment, and realized that she had blocked her out of her memory all these years, ever since she was a child watching the horrid scene.

  “Aww, you do remember Moira after all,” the thing in Lilith’s skin teased. “I didn’t think you’d ever remember that wretched woman. I took over Moira’s puny heart and continued to sacrifice for father, waiting for this day. It’s too bad she had to take the blame for my works—and was punished, burned to death. And it’s no wonder you aren’t fond of fires!” Lilith let out a teasing chuckle, followed by a half smile. “It was a memorable day when you watched as Moira screamed out, with her flesh burning away.”

  “Your disgusting words are wicked! What do you want from me?!” Marrisa screamed, between sobs.

  “I want your body—you are our master plan, the key to our triumph! I’ve been waiting all of these years for this day, for this night—father has been waiting a very long time—we cannot make him wait any longer. We have been longing for this day, your sixteenth birthday, the day you rightfully become a woman and the evening you become engaged, the time when you will reign as queen of Ishkar.

  “You see, Minlesthrate is but a small kingdom, corrupted by man and too concerned with worldly goods and irrelevant things. But Ishkar is a great influential kingdom with a massive army, a strong hand and many absent-minded inhabitants that will do whatever they are commanded. Ishkar will be the kingdom of many, the king of the world. And I will rule in your body as a great queen, and you will kill your husband who is named Phillip—we will not need him. You will do great things to deceive your people, the followers. Your words will be like water to their souls and will set fire to their hands. Then they will worship you! We will live as a god and father’s words and power will spread all across this world as poisoned and great water. The water’s of the people will spread and their fiery hands will destroy. Light will be broken like a flame beneath that water. The Great King of light will fail—falling down into nothingness—forgotten forever. We will live for eternity in a world of darkness!” Lilith's body appeared mad as she lifted her hands into the sky.