Remembered

by E. D. Brady

  He kissed a lock, felt the silk slide from his lips, and caught it on his finger, the soft curl wrapping around. He felt peaceful, filled with contentment to have this perfect creature next to him.

  He reached behind and grabbed a pillow, pulling it over his face. He yelled her name into it. With each gut wrenching cry, he willed the Universe to return her.

  He rolled over, fell off the bed onto his hands and knees, and shook with the intensity of his prayer. He knelt up straight onto the heels of his feet and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to compose himself.

  After a thirty second shower, he reached for a clean blue uniform from the small closet inside the bathroom. Six months ago, he was sure that he’d never put on this uniform again, but that was a different time, a happy time full of excitement for the future. In that thought, a twisted irony dwelt. He was the oath-breaker, after all; having made an oath that he would keep at all costs, even if it meant losing his soul.

  He looked at his reflection in the tiny mirror above the sink and cringed. What stared back was a warped mockery of the man he’d once been. Bright, happy eyes were replaced by windows to a black, soulless vacuum. Sickly, sallow skin took the place of what was once the vibrancy of youth, the glow of a young man entering the prime of his life, a life full of hope and promise. What a bitter joke that turned out to be.

  In a daze, Kellus opened the door to find Danus leaning up against the far wall, waiting patiently—like he did every single morning. “How are you this morning?” Danus asked cheerfully, almost too cheerfully, as usual, as though, somehow, his perky mood would transfer onto his miserable friend. It was the same question every fucking day. Wasn’t that considered a sign of madness, to repeat the same action day in and day out and expect a different result?

  “Fine,” Kellus mumbled, without a hint of a ‘thank you’ or even a smile for the show of support.

  He noticed Danus shoot him a pitying look from the corner of his eyes. His right hand twitched, eager to curl into a fist and slam against Danus’s face. He didn’t want his fucking pity. But somewhere deep inside, somewhere his rationality may have still lingered, he knew that Danus was only trying to be a good friend, and he supposed he should be grateful. Nah, fuck that! He didn’t want a friend. He wanted to be left alone. What he really wanted was a drink, to drown himself in a few bottles of wine, but he’d made a promise to his siblings, a promise that he was growing weaker and weaker by the day to keep.

  He relaxed his hand and shook his head. The violent urges had to stop. Already he’d come very close to breaking Markum’s nose a few weeks back. Markum’s only crime was to ask him to try to find some happiness in life—as if it was that easy, as if this was a choice he made. He watched in horror as the blood gushed down his brother’s face, disgusted by what he had done. He begged for Markum’s forgiveness, only to have his brother turn it on him—Markum apologized for the insensitive comment.

  Kellus knew that he was slowly losing his mind, but could do nothing to arrest the decay of his sanity. Truth be told, he really didn’t want to.

  He knew how they felt, how they all avoided him as much as possible, his whole family stiffening when he walked through the door every month for a weekend. He’d heard them talk in whispers and look suddenly uncomfortable when he entered the room.

  Maybe they regretted now that Markum had not allowed him to slit his own throat. Maybe they wished he had. Maybe they’d all be better off if he didn’t visit any more, if he didn’t go home again.

  He entered the dining room with Danus and sat down at his usual seat.

  The other apprentices didn’t bother trying to engage him in conversation anymore, having given up months ago.

  Half way through breakfast, he felt a hand on his shoulder. The Under Master leaned down into his face when he turned to look at him. “How are you, young man?” Lionel asked.

  “Fine, sir,” he lied.

  “Are you sure?” Lionel pushed. “You seem very pale today.”

  “I’m fine, sir,” he lied again.

  “Okay,” Lionel replied dubiously, “but if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

  “Thank you, sir,” he mumbled.

  He rose from the table after breakfast and followed the other apprentices to their weapons training class.

  There was a time, long ago, when he used to serve as Mandolis’s assistant in this class—having been named the youngest sword master in the Citadom ever, but that was a different time. Now, Mandolis left him alone to go through the pathetic motions in the back of the room.

  “Grab a wasty and make it hasty.” Mandolis laughed at his own poor attempt at humor. Only Loc, the fucking suck-up, laughed along with him.

  “That’s a little thing my sister Annie used to say when my father taught us both to use a sword,” Mandolis added, honing in on Loc.

  Kellus felt his knees buckle.

  “You have a sister named Annie?” the suck-up asked.

  “Her name is Annimora. We call her Annie for short,” Mandolis answered.

  Kellus’s stomach lurched. He felt his mouth fill up with bile.

  “Are you alright, Kellus?” Mandolis asked, having realized his blunder.

  Danus let out a loud sigh.

  Kellus threw his waster to the floor and walked quickly out of the room, banging the door shut loudly.

  He stumbled to the bathroom, leaning on the walls for support. He staggered over to the nearest toilet bowl and vomited into it. He splashed water onto his face and drank down two mouthfuls to clean the vile taste from his mouth. He slid down onto the floor and rested his cheek against the cold, hard tiles, feeling chills rattle through his body, trying to settle his stomach.

  “Annella!” he called out desperately, unfazed by who may have heard.

  Ages passed.

  Finally, he heard the door creak open. He kept his eyes closed, his face to the ground, not caring who found him in this position.

  “Kellus?” a familiar voice called. Oh, shit. It was the Master. “Kellus, Danus told me that I could probably find you in here. He was worried about you.”

  Kellus pushed up half way to face the Master, kneeling at his feet.

  “Would you like to talk?” Nordorum asked kindly. Unexpectedly, he sat on the floor before Kellus, crossed-legged.

  Kellus shook his head. “It’s not getting any easier,” he mumbled.

  “You told me, personally, that you believe she’s alive,” Nordorum replied in a quiet voice. “You must find the strength to go on. You don’t want her returning to a sick, broken man, do you?”

  “How long must I wait?” Kellus asked in a pleading voice.

  “I wish I knew,” Nordorum answered. “But it has always been my experience that the darkest hour is before dawn.”

  Kellus shrugged his shoulders, unable to find a reply.

  “I know how you feel about spending time in the hospital, and I don’t want to take away your free will, but I am going to insist that you go see Conor. I’ll come with you.” Nordorum jumped to his feet much too agilely for a man of near seventy years. He held out his hand to help Kellus to up, and then placed his hand on the younger man’s shoulder sympathetically.

  Once down in the hospital, Conor stuck a needle into Kellus’s arm and attached the other end to a small bag filled with clear liquid. “Lie down,” he ordered.

  As soon as Kellus’s head hit the pillow, sleep took him.

  He woke the following morning to the feel of a hand on his forehead. Opening is eyes, he met his father’s concerned gaze.

  “Father,” he mumbled. “Why are you here?”

  “You haven’t been by to see me in two days, son,” Tol answered. “I came over here today to see if everything was alright, and I was told you were down here in the hospital. What happened, son?”

  “I had a bad dream yesterday and it left me very unsettled, and I guess I hadn’t eaten for a while, so that when I did, my stomach rebelled. Conor wanted to keep me here for
a day to replenish some fluids,” Kellus replied.

  Tol rubbed his face with his left hand then let it rest over his mouth. He stared into his son’s eyes deeply, as though he was contemplating saying something. He took a deep breath. “Son, I have something—”

  At that moment, the door opened, effectively shutting Tol up.

  The Under Master, Lionel, walked over to Kellus’s cot. “Ah, Tol Kir,” he called out. “How are you?”

  There was a moment of thick silence.

  Kellus looked to Tol questioningly and thought he saw murderous rage flash in his father’s eyes. He assumed he was imagining things, but Tol’s sudden smile looked very forced.

  “I am well, Lionel,” Tol answered in a flat voice. “And you?”

  “Never better,” the Under Master replied. “I just stopped in to see how this young man was doing. Are you feeling better?”

  “Yes, sir,” Kellus answered.

  “Good,” Lionel responded. “I suppose I should leave you alone with your father. I don’t want to interrupt your visit.” After a brief wave to Tol, Lionel walked back across the room and through the door.

  When Kellus turned to ask his father to continue what he was saying, he noticed Tol’s left hand was balled into a fist that he pushed firmly against his mouth and his eyes were glaring at Lionel’s departure.

  Odd.

  “Is everything alright?” Kellus questioned.

  “Yes,” Tol replied, his smile turning warm.

  “What were you saying before?” Kellus inquired.

  Tol shook his head and sighed. “Nothing,” he responded. “I have nothing to tell you. But if you’re really feeling better, I should go back and reopen the shop. I just wanted to run over and check on you.”

  Kellus nodded.

  “I’m going to close up early on Friday and drive you home,” Tol added, standing up. “I’ll see you when…around lunch time?”

  “Listen, I’ve been thinking,” Kellus said. “I think I should stay here this weekend. I don’t think I should go home for a while.”

  Tol’s eyes swelled. “No, Kellus, you must come home,” he responded firmly.

  “I think my presence there is a hindrance to everyone’s happiness…” Kellus trailed off and shrugged his shoulders.

  “No!” Tol screeched. “Please, Kellus, not this weekend. Please don’t pull this now.”

  “Why is this weekend so important?” Kellus questioned suspiciously.

  “Your mother has something planned,” Tol replied.

  “Father, I don’t think—”

  “For your mother, son,” Tol said loudly. “Think of someone else for a change.”

  Guilt flooded through Kellus. “Okay,” he answered.

  “Promise me, Kellus,” Tol pushed.

  “I promise,” he said, feeling agitated.

  As Tol left, Kellus found himself falling asleep once again.

  When he awoke the next time, Conor was fussing around his bed. “You’re awake,” he said.

  “Yes, sir,” Kellus answered.

  “Would you like me to send for some food for you, or would you prefer to go to the dining room to join the other men for lunch?” Conor questioned.

  Kellus couldn’t face those pitying eyes. “I’d prefer to stay here for the night if you don’t mind,” he replied.

  “That’s fine,” Conor stated.

  As the afternoon wore on, Kellus began to feel the burning return. He closed his eyes against the pain, wondering, for the hundredth time, how he had allowed this to happen. But he already knew the answer: it was the savage. That damned, vile demon that he’d allowed himself to be manipulated by.

  In the darkness, he remembered his every encounter with the beast.

  Chapter 18

  “I would like you all to watch how Kellus performs this next move,” Mandolis called out to his class of apprentices.

  Kellus ran at the wall, sword in hand, and pressed his left foot to the concrete, followed by his right, then left again, so that it looked as though he was running up the wall. When his feet were almost as high as his head, he pushed away, twisting his whole body upside down, and landing with both feet on the ground.

  Applause broke out among the apprentices.

  “With this move, you can double back behind your opponent, and once behind him, run him through the back, or slice his head off,” Mandolis said causally, as though he was talking about peeling an apple.

  Kellus walked back to stand with the other apprentices.

  “We’ll leave it there for today,” Mandolis said. “I’ll start teaching you that move on Monday morning. Now, I have an announcement to make. I have been informed by the Master that I have been given the honor of organizing a patrol for the mid-spring festival tonight,” he rolled his eyes as if he thought it was anything but an honor. “So, I’ve decided that you ten fine gentlemen are going to be the town’s chaperones, if you will.”

  “What does that mean?” Ciro asked.

  “It means that basically you’re on peacekeeping duty,” Mandolis answered.

  Grumbles broke out among the apprentices.

  “Gentlemen, please.” Mandolis called them to order. “It’s not so bad. There never has been a lot of trouble at these events. You’ll more than likely find yourselves bored. So, when you’re not breaking up fights, you will be expected to make sure the beer and wine barrels are full. Look on the bright side, there will be a lot of pretty girls there.”

  “Do we get to taste the beer and wine?” Danus asked.

  “Do we get to taste the pretty girls?” Tilidus added.

  “No, and no,” Mandolis said, laughing. “We need you all clear minded and sober, and you are all under oath in regards to the girls, although, there’s no harm in looking.”

  Pretty girls…um. Kellus knew of only one pretty girl in this town, a term that was an understatement when it came to Annella Derlyn. He shook his head slightly. Why the hell was she flooding his mind lately? For the past couple of weeks, Annella Derlyn had been forefront and center in almost all his thoughts, a fact that he found slightly disturbing.

  A long time ago, when he was just a boy of sixteen, he’d seen her at her parent’s funeral and fell madly in love. It was a childish fancy, the kind of overwhelming emotion, unrequited want that only someone very immature could harbor, especially towards someone they’d never even spoken to.

  Sure, she was beautiful, kindhearted and interesting, but that was no excuse for the obsessive thinking.

  And why had he rushed to fix her gate at the first opportunity? Why did he insist on buying a hair clip that she admired from his father, and then proceed to talk Danus into sneaking out of the Citadom with him, late in the evening, to plant it on her doorstep? Probably just the remnants of an old crush, the opportunity to do now what he would have loved to have done then.

  His father eyed him suspiciously the day he bought the hair clip. “What?” Kellus had demanded. “She seems like a sweet girl, and she lives in near poverty. I just think it would be a nice thing to do, to give her a little something that she couldn’t normally afford.”

  “You sure, son?” Tol had asked. “She’s very beautiful. Are you sure there isn’t more to it?”

  “Nope,” Kellus had answered firmly.

  At seven o’clock that evening, he met Danus outside his room. As they walked down the hall, they were joined by Rom and Tilidus. Together they left through the back of the Citadom and walked one street north to Lanshore Field.

  The place was crowded. Every person living in West Vistira must have shown up, along with a lot from the borders of the east, south, and north.

  As they cut through the field to meet Mandolis at the back, he saw her sitting on the grass with two younger people, who could only be her twin siblings.

  He stopped short and swallowed hard. His heart began racing.

  How strange.

  He came to a stop in front of her—Danus, Rom, and Tilidus behind him. “Good evening,” h
e said, smiling like a complete fool.

  “Good evening to you, too,” Annie replied, her beautiful face smiling back at him. “Have you come to enjoy the party?”

  “No,” he replied, shaking his head, “we’re on duty, unfortunately. We’re here to make sure that everyone behaves in an orderly manner,” he added, gesturing to his three companions. “With all the beer and wine available, we’ll see to it that the gentlemen remember to behave like gentlemen,” ‘and to kill any man that gets near you.’ Okay, what was that thought?

  “Come on, Kellus, we’re supposed to meet Mandolis for assignments,” Danus urged, like a fucking killjoy.

  “I have to go,” Kellus said regretfully. “Enjoy the party, Annie.”

  He reluctantly walked away.

  “Kellus,” she called, “may I speak to you briefly.”

  His stupid heart thumped again. ‘It would be the highlight of my night’, he thought. “Go on ahead, Danus,” Kellus said, reminding himself to act calm. “I’ll catch up momentarily.” He turned to her, arching his eyebrows questioningly.

  “I want to thank you for the hair clip. It was extremely generous of you,” her beautiful mouth muttered.

  “What hair clip?” he asked, deciding to have a little fun with her.

  “The one that I looked at in your father’s shop; you left it on my doorstep,” she replied.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he responded. He bowed to her and began to walk away, but turned back, looking over his right shoulder, and winked with a sly grin.

  “Dare I suggest that you have feelings for that woman?” Danus said playfully as they walked towards the back of the field.

  “I told you already, Danus, I like her, she’s a nice girl, that’s all,” Kellus argued.

  “You keep saying that, but your face says something else,” Danus replied.

  Kellus shrugged his shoulders, having no idea what Danus was talking about.

  Sometime later, Annie’s sister came asking for a glass of wine. She was probably too young for it, so Kellus asked her the obvious question. “You’re Annie’s sister, right?”