by S Lawrence
“Why do you think she never told me about you when I was little? I found a letter in the journal saying that she couldn’t write certain things down, do you think maybe she thought I wouldn’t be able to keep the secret?”
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She asks a good question, why didn't, Jean tell her anything at all about me, not even my name. It hurts and makes me a little angry, so many years lost. There had to be a reason, but for the life of me, I can't imagine what it is. ‘We might never know, little one.' I tell her this, but my mind is already working the puzzle. Turning her head askew to look up at me, she has an apprehensive look on her face. ‘Daughter, you can speak your mind, tell me anything.' I feel her hands running over the scales on my chest caressing then lightly; I'm not sure she even realizes that her fingers are moving.
"I was just wondering why you never came, what stopped you from finding us?"
Turning my head, I looked at nothing my mind far off in the past. I hear the hurt in her voice, and it is not just for herself. I worry though about telling this tale, how it will affect her now, after everything.
"You know you can tell me anything, too." there is a gentleness in her that so reminds me of her mother and I wish I could tell Jean that she did right by our girl. She is peaches and cream like my love and a core of steel that would make any warrior proud. I stand and move away pacing, my tail is whipping in agitation. The memories are close to the surface, and my stomach is churning. I think back to that day, watching Jean sail away on the ferry. I can see her for far longer than she can see me, my emotions are distracting me as I watch her cry in the distance. I had been about to leave, to follow up on the Intel we had received about Sceach. But I was so distracted by her tears, I didn't sense a thing until the needle pierced my neck and by then it was too late. I awoke in hell. I don't want to upset her with my story of torture.
“You don't need to baby me, I know it must be bad." she snaps, temper so like mine flaring up. ‘I don't mean to, daughter; it's just still hard for me to talk about.' Guilt fills her eyes, and I shake my head, telling her there is no need.
*********
I look at him and see the pain there, the horrors rippling just below the surface. Bile rises as I begin to think that maybe I don't want to hear this. Chris's muffled screams fill my ears, and I can't help but cringe at the memories. I want to tell him to forget it, never mind, it doesn't matter but I can't I need to know why he never came.
Chapter 35
Faolan turns his mind to that day, the last day he knew true happiness. Every moment is chiseled into his memory, carved so deep the wounds never close. Slowly he begins to tell her his nightmares. He was standing watching her on the ferry. Even from the great distance he could see her tears, see her heartache at leaving. His dragon wanted to burst forth, flap his wings and fly to her but he knew he couldn't. So focused on her, he didn't see them move into position until it was too late. He was just jerking to attention when the needle slipped into his skin. It had taken mere seconds before he slipped into darkness.
He woke to damp darkness. Strong chains bound him; magic kept him from shifting. They chained him down and started trying to get him to teach them how to cross the portal. When he refused, the torture began. At first, it was deprivation; he was locked in his cell in the dark, his dragon dampened enough that it couldn't help him. How long he was locked away he didn't know, months or years maybe. He never heard or saw anything or anyone. Only darkness. Until he felt his mind cracking into pieces all during that time he held Jean to him.
Then suddenly he was drug from his cell and placed in a room with bright lights. His sensitive eye revolted, migraines ripped through his brain. Through them he found out that he had been in his cell for a year, and that no one was looking for him. When he again refused to answer their questions, he was sent back to the darkness, and insidious whispers told him that Jean was just a figment of his imagination, made up in the darkness. His fractured mind began to believe. He began to give up because hope couldn't survive in that place.
At some point in the long months, they realized either he couldn't or wouldn’t tell them what they wanted. Then the real torture began. They decided to see how much his body could take with the dragon helping him heal. The Order brought in a butcher, a man who was magnificent at his job, a sadist who took great pleasure in inflicting great pain without causing death.
It started with small cuts, tiny little nicks, like a million paper cuts over his entire body. When those healed, he broke every bone in Faolan's hands and feet. So it went day after day month after month, slices and breaks. For years they held him, doing unimaginable things to him.
Some guards did things beyond torture. They had just enough magic to keep him alive in his human body. He prayed for death every day. After fifteen years he heard a voice whisper through the haze of pain in his brain, it sounded familiar, but he no longer knew what was real. Again the voice called for him, and he whispered back as they sliced his skin from his body, they laughed the whole time saying they would finally mount his dead hide to their wall.
Some part of him recognized something was changing, and then the magic wards came crashing down. Morrigan's battle cry rang out all around him and then she was in front of him, and Kai's bronze dragon was ripping the roof off the building, fire lighting up the sky. He knew he was dying but thanked her for coming to release him from this body and to escort him from this battlefield. The last thing he heard was her call for Danu.
Months later he woke on the Isle in his dragon form. Healed but still broken, it was another five years before anyone other than his Goddesses could approach him, his mind so broken he couldn't tell imagined from reality, a friend from foe. Later, he found out that they had begun looking for him just a few days after he disappeared but found no trace. They had only found him because a guard had gotten drunk and bragged about what was happening, his voice carried on the wind to one of the halflings who listened.
Even with the knowledge, it took them several more months to track the Order to the exact location, the first druid sending his best student to bring down the wards, which had been perverted from original druid magic. Twisted and changed into something dark and destructive.
Moving my eyes to her I am saddened to see her tears. To see her reliving her own horrors. ‘That is why I stay in dragon form, Danu saved me that day, but even her magic couldn't repair the damage they had done to my human body, if I ever shift to it, I will die. Since the moment my mind began to heal, I have waited to feel the magic of the bracelet. I knew she was real in my soul but my mind questioned it. I knew our love was true. I could not believe that I could have imagined a woman like her. I would never have been able to create someone so full of light. And then three months ago I felt it, the bracelet with our love connect, others felt it. I knew it was to the west, that was all, and then it was gone again. So I waited.'
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I look at this man. My father. He has survived more than I can imagine. I barely survived three days and he was in hell for years, more than half my life. Thinking of my mother. I want to cry for us both. I want to burn the Order to the ground. I might not have a dragon, but they have awakened my beast, and she is a wild, dangerous thing. I am trying to think of something that can express my deep heartache and animosity towards the Order. I am just about to unload it all on him when I see Kai moving quickly towards us; sadness etched on his face. It must be important.
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She is glorious in her anger and outrage. Her cheeks are flushed, and I am sure she doesn't realize she has taken a fighting stance. "I am sorry to bother you both, but Jason just came through the portal. The druids are ready to begin Chris's burial. They wish for us to go to the ring of Brodgar. I have spoken with them and they will put up a shielding ward so you can also come, Faolan. I thought you would want to honor him. I have also asked a few other Guardians to join us, so we can seal his tomb."
"Yes I want to go, in New Orleans, we celebrate our
dead. I need to see him; there are things I wish to say to him." She is clenching her jaw, I can tell her emotions are very close to the surface.
Chapter 36
We traveled the Isle heading to another portal that would take us to Brodgar. Walking beside Kai, I could feel my body respond to his, and I am surprised by the reaction. I don't know what to think, so I decide it is best to just ignore it for now.
I feel like I'm in the midst of some Greek tragedy, filled with death and love. I watch him in my peripheral, his muscles rippling under his t-shirt. His hair is curling at his neck, and my fingers itch to touch it. I was startled when we were suddenly at the portal.
Kai looked at me understanding in his eyes. "Are you ready? If you're not, they will understand." He rubbed my arm, and it tingled at his touch. "No...I'm ready. I need to do this. I have to do this." I take the hand he is holding out, and we move through the shimmering opening of the portal, stepping out of the other side we are greeted by the night. We are along the topmost coast of Scotland. I hear the ocean beyond the cliffs, waves crashing into the rocks. The stars are so bright, the sky cloudless and clear. The stones are beautiful, ancient and weathered with runes etched in them. Torches light the circle, and I see the boys in their druid robes, solemn in their mourning.
I don't know what to do, part of me wants to weep, the other is still so angry. Patrick moves first, coming toward me, stopping a few feet away he holds out his arms, and I feel my feet running to him.
"Och, lass, we were so worried for you." He grunts as I launch myself into his embrace. I felt my sorrow spilling over, and my tears began to fall. I cling to him. As he lets me go I'm pulled into another set of strong arms and a second set wind around my back, I stand between these two warriors and feel their anguish. They whisper in my ears, words of love and comfort.
Finally, we draw apart, and I wipe the tears from my face. I look towards the altar. Chris is laid on it, draped in a white cloth that is covered in druid runes. He has been cleaned and looks so peaceful. So different from the last time I saw him. Looking to the others, I ask permission with my eyes. They bow their heads, and I find myself gliding to Chris's side. Reaching him, I stand by him, looking at his face, I can't stop my hand as it moves to his blonde hair. It's long and reminds me of a surfer. It feels like silk. I find myself rubbing it like momma used to rub mine when I was sick.
"Oh, Chris, I'm so sorry. Sorry I couldn't help you. Sorry I'm glad you were there with me.” I lace our fingers together bringing his hand to my cheek. “Sorry you had to watch him do those things to me. Sorry that I begged you not to look away. I'm so sorry I needed you so much.” Swallowing I look at him as his face blurs through my tears. “I can never thank you enough for fighting for me, for struggling until the very end. I wish they had gotten to us sooner, but I hate to admit this, but a part of me is glad that I don't have to see your pity and knowledge in your eyes for the rest of my life.” Lean down clutching his hand to my chest, my tears dropping onto his face as I place a gentle kiss on his cheek. Moving my lips to his ear I whisper, “I wish it had been me, that it was me on this table because I don't know how I'm going to live with this." By this point I am sobbing uncontrollably, my body is shaking, and I lay myself over on him hugging his body to me. The man who bore witness to my shame
Through my breakdown I can hear the others chanting, I don't understand the words, but they are soothing in their repetition. Rising, I smooth the cloth over him making it perfect again, but I can't step away. Kai's hands move on my shoulders, and I lean back slightly, it is the action he needed to draw me into his embrace. We stand there until my sobs turn to hiccups. Kai slowly turns me to face him and wipes away my tears handing me a handkerchief to blow my nose. The sight of it makes me smile slightly because it reminds me of Grandda. After I clean my face, I can't help but lean into him once more, drawing from his strength.
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I hold her, trying to get my emotion in check. All the Guardians had heard her quiet admissions, and we are all ready to destroy the order for the degradation she suffered. My heart broke, and my soul cried out when she wished it was herself on the table. I was afraid when I turned her to me; I know my eyes are swirling with the gold of my dragon. As I wipe her tears I whisper, "My heart, I know you don't believe yet, but you would have doomed me if you had gone from this world." She sighs, and I can tell she is going to try to speak. "Shhh, not now, let's bury this honorable man, who suffered much and fought hard for you both." She nods slightly before turning back and placing a gentle kiss on his cheek and laying her forehead to his for a moment. When she straightens, I lead her back to her father, refusing to let her go, until she leans onto his side and he rubs his head along her body.
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The chants of the Druids build and grow louder as others join in. All through the night, the fires burn, and the magic is woven as the crypt is prepared. Other Groves have traveled for the burial of one of their own. Six cloaked Druids, their faces hidden in the shadows of their hoods, pick Chris's body up and move it to the underground crypt. Other's then begin the arduous task of covering the mound and opening with crystals. The crystals have been brought from far away, drawn from deep within the earth by magic to honor Chris. As the last stone is placed, the Guardians shift, forming a circle the mound. The early dawn sky is lit up with their fire as the heat the crystals causing them to form a dome over his body protecting it from all invaders for eternity. When they were done, and the stones glowed from the heat, the druids said their prayer. Aislin stood wrapped in Kai's arms with her hand on her father's side silently weeping for the man who walked through hell with her and saw her out the other side.
Peace to Heaven:
Heaven over Earth
Earth beneath heaven
Blessed be all.
To the brim full:
Fullness of honey
Honey-sweet blessings
Summer in Winter...
Blessed be the Eternal most excellent forests;
Peace reaches to Heaven, be nine times eternal.
Peace reaches to Heaven, be nine times eternal.
Peace reach to Heaven, be nine times eternal.
Deep within the still center of my being
May I find peace.
Silently within the quiet of the Grove
May I share peace.
Gently within the greater circle of humankind
May I radiate peace
The crescendo of chanting peaks and begins to slowly fade as the visiting groves moved away giving his brothers time with their fallen. The Guardians passed back to the Isle as the sun rose over the circle. In moments it was just Aislin, Kai, Jason, Patrick, Sean and Michael left to mourn for the quiet, studious druid.
They sit in silence around the fire nearest the dome, each lost in their thoughts until the sun was high and the fire had long died away. It was a stomach rumbling that broke the silence; it was soon followed by a chuckle and a more feminine giggle. It was like a dam broke and they all laughed until they couldn't breathe, purging some of the tension and sadness that had them strung so tight. When the laughter finally died away, Patrick stood.
"Come, let us eat together and share stories of our Chris." Patrick turned and began walking to a camp that had been set up on the edge of the sacred fields. A table was set up and loaded with foods of all kinds. I sighed when the scent of strong coffee reached my nose; Kai leaned down "Eh Ken you like your coffee. So eh made sure it was here. Eh, wisnae wrong was I?" He was like my friends that often seemed to have no accent until they were with their family from home, then it came out like nobody's business.
"No you weren't wrong, I love strong coffee as long as it has cream and sugar. My Grandda used to tease me saying I'd a little coffee to go with my creamer." I smiled at him, maybe my first real smile since all of this happened, and I guess that was a start. He held my chair for me, I sat and began piling food on my plate, it had been days since I ate after all. A delighted sigh s
lipped from my lips "Bacon." Amused glances turned my way. As we ate, the boys talked, and I listened enjoying their brogue.
“Woo, I‘m full as a tick on a hound.” I declared as I rubbed my bulging stomach, this was going to hurt. I hate when I eat too much. I look up and see five faces staring at me. “What?”
"Lass, what on earth did you say?" Michael is holding in his laughter. "Ha ha, you heard me, you know it means I ate too much. Y'all got your crazy slang that I can't even understand so don't ya go making fun of my sayings." Their laughter helped ease some of the pain.
Soon, the stories begin, and I listen as they talk of Chris and their time growing up with him. I find myself wishing I had gotten the chance to know him. He seemed like just the kind of nerd I love. I think he would have enjoyed my love of fandoms and science fiction. I love hearing how all the boys were orphans that met at a boarding school, how they were so different but formed a bond of chosen family that so often goes deeper than blood.
Their relationship reminds me so much of my relationship with Emma I have a moment where I can't catch my breath thinking of my life without her. I want to apologize for my part of him being gone, but I know they won't want to hear it. I smile instead, looking at their faces, filled with love and humor as they remember their brother. My fingers run over my bracelet; it brings me comfort even when I know it is the very thing that drew Dorran to me, leading him to Chris. I glance up to see Patrick's eyes on it. I pulled my arm under the table giving him an apologetic look.
"You doona have to hide it. Chris was fascinated with the workings of it; he had planned to tell you all about it. He woona want you to stop wearing it or hide it because of what happened. You canna blame it or yourself, lass. This war has been waging for hundreds of years, and it was a druid who first opened his blethering mouth."