by N. M. Howell
She was pulled from her daze by Taelor, who wrapped his strong fingers around her arm and tugged her away. Her eyes flashed open and she caught his stare, and the concern evident in his dark eyes.
“Don’t let the music get you,” he warned. “I wouldn’t trust any of the sounds here.”
Rhea glanced back at the band and noticed a strange glow emanating from each of their instruments. They were putting a trance on the audience, and as Rhea’s eyes settled on those standing around listening, she noticed they too were in a daze. She wondered how long they’d been there. One man looked particularly lost, his eyes blank and his movements pained.
“We should get the horses if you want to leave soon,” Taelor said, pulling her attention back to him.
She sighed, nodding as she caught one last glance to the dancing man. “Perhaps it wouldn’t be terrible if we stayed.”
Taelor raised his eyebrow at her, letting his hand drop to his side. “You want to stay now?”
Rhea shrugged. “I just got a little overwhelmed in the tent, that’s all.”
Taelor considered, but nodded. “It is dark out. Night has fallen and it would be wise to take shelter here. I’ll go ahead and find a place for us to sleep, if you would like to stay behind with the others. I’ll come back and let you know when I find something.”
Rhea smiled and thanked him, walking toward her other guardians as Taelor marched ahead.
“Rhea,” he called, his head turned back to her as he walked down the path.
“Hmm?”
“Watch out for the music.”
She smiled and watched him leave, wondering just what she had done to deserve the affections and concern of these five strong demigods.
Wandering slowly back to the other four, she pulled the paper from her pocket and carefully slid her finger into the wax seal. She unfolded it when Taelor turned the far corner out of her field of vision, curious as to what it would say, but when she lay the paper flat in the palm of her hand, she was puzzled.
The paper had nothing but a few symbols, each of them unfamiliar and foreign to her. She traced her fingers along the strange lines of the layered symbols, having no idea what they meant. Mindlessly approaching Roan and Keaven, she raised her hand to them, exposing the strange lines. Neither of them knew what they meant, either.
“And she gave this to you?” Roan asked her.
Rhea nodded and inspected the paper again. “She said to only show you guys. And only you.”
“Do you think it means something?” Keaven asked.
Rhea shrugged, unable to pull her eyes from the intricate lines that swirled and danced on the faded white paper.
“Could just be a stupid gimmick,” she finally said after they each had a close look at it in turn. “Besides, everyone knows that fortune tellers aren’t real.”
Grayson stepped up to them, eyeing the paper as he raised his eyebrow. “Well, maybe in the human world. But here, they’re nothing to laugh at.”
Rhea took a small step back. “What do you mean?”
Grayson shook his head and slowly took the piece of paper from her hands, inspecting it carefully. “True fortune tellers can see the future, and once they speak the truth, that future is set in stone.”
“Er…” Rhea began, unsure how to respond. After what she had heard from the fortune teller’s mouth, she really didn’t want to believe his words.
Grayson looked up at her over the top of the paper. “Why, what did she say to you?”
Rhea swallowed hard, her heart beating heavily in her chest. She felt her skin grew cold and clammy as the woman’s words echoed in the back of her mind. “Nothing, just the money thing.”
Arry raised his eyebrow at her, looking confused. “I think there was more to it than that,” he said. “Although, the money thing works for me.” He chuckled gleefully, tapping his fingers together as he grinned at her with mischievous eyes.
Rhea shook her head at him, wishing she could understand how he always found happiness in the darkest of places. If there was anything she could learn from him, it would be how to see light through the darkness.
“Nothing serious,” she promised him. “Just typical fortune teller stuff. I’m curious what this means, though.” She motioned to the piece of paper in Grayson’s hand.
Grayson studied it, shaking his head back and forth and muttering something under his breath.
“Do you know what it means?” she asked him.
“I’m not sure, but it looks like some sort of ancient elven glyphs.”
“Would Taelor know what it means?”
Grayson frowned. “Perhaps. Let me go find him, you stay here.”
Rhea raised a brow, but before she could protest Grayson had turned and left, disappearing into the crowd.
Rhea sat on a nearby bench between Arry and Keaven. They seemed relaxed as they enjoyed the distant music as it carried through the breeze to where they sat. Roan stood beside them, his eyes sleepy, but his body still tense.
“Whoa, what’s that?” Keaven asked, pushing himself up off the bench suddenly. His eye had caught something on a table across the way. He pointed to a far stand with strange cards and unique objects on it. His eyes sparkled in the flashing lights as a wide grin spread across his face.
Rhea laughed and shook her head, amazed at how her guardians seemed to be enjoying themselves. The table looked to her like something she’d see in a flea market, but perhaps that was an exotic concept for them. “I dunno, go check it out.”
She didn’t have to tell Keaven twice. Keaven practically ran past her, followed by Arry, who skipped and sang a strange tune to himself. Rhea watched them go as Roan sat down next to her, leaning on his elbows as he let out a soft sigh.
“Everything okay?” Rhea turned on the bench and crossed her legs, her eyes scanning his tense position and settling on his hooded eyes. She could tell from his body language that he wasn’t comfortable, despite the brave face he put on.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” He let out a breath. He then raised his eyes to her and shrugged. There was a sadness in his eyes, a haunted history that she couldn’t even begin to understand.
“What’s on your mind?” she asked him, placing a soft hand on his shoulder. She traced the lines of his muscles with her fingertip. His skin was hot and burning against the cool evening air.
He smiled at her touch, clearly pleased that she now felt comfortable enough around him to reach out.
“There was a lot of darkness in this world after you left,” he began slowly.
Rhea longed to hear the stories behind those sad, sleepy eyes of his. To find out what sort of horrors could have possibly broken the easy-going nature of this calm, magnificent creature.
“So it seems,” she said. She sat in silence, waiting for him to continue.
“Some years ago, I was sold to a circus just like this.” His voice trailed off as his eyes stared into the distance, his lids heavy and his shoulders slumped. “I was captured in my sleep one night and held in captivity for two years. I was enslaved and tortured and eventually sold to the circus to perform tricks as nothing more than an enslaved animal.”
Rhea gasped, her hand falling down beside her. She hardly believed his words, unable to fathom how someone as strong and powerful as he could have been enslaved.
“I was forced to stay in animal form for two long years, unable to transform back into a human. I lost so much of myself, consumed by my animal nature. Had I not been rescued at the end, I don’t think I would’ve been able to even remember who I was.”
She stared at him a long moment, her eyes burning and her chest tight.
“How?” she finally managed to ask, her voice coming out barely above a whisper. She couldn’t picture him in captivity, and the thought of him being enslaved had her stomach clenched in knots.
“It was a long time ago, and I survived,” he said, raising his hand toward her two other guardians who were consumed with the wares on the table in the distance. “If
it weren’t for these guys, I wouldn’t be here.”
Rhea glanced at Arry and Keaven on the other side of the path, their laughter barely audible over the music that filled the silence. She wanted to reach out to them, to thank them. She also wanted to turn to Roan and hold him close and promise he would never have to endure anything so horrible again. But she couldn’t make such promises. Not while the world was still at war.
“That’s why I was wary about coming here,” he admitted. He then shrugged again, his casual nature returning to him as he flicked his eyes around their surroundings, scanning the circus-goers who meandered by. “But I guess I’ll admit this isn’t too bad. So long as they’re not forcing anyone into performing, I guess I have nothing against the circus in general.”
“Who would support a circus full of slaves?” Rhea asked, not sure she wanted to know the answer. She knew terrible things happened in war, but for someone to be enslaved for entertainment outside of the field of battle seemed beyond sick and barbaric, and to have people actually attend such an event just made her skin crawl.
Rhea understood being sacrificed for the cause, or even captured by the enemy in the field of battle, but taken against your will in your sleep and being forced to perform as a slave, she couldn’t even wrap her mind around how horrible that must’ve been for him. And for such a strong, powerful creature, too. Her heart ached just thinking about it, and she wished there was something she could’ve done.
“I’m not too sure, but I believe it was related to Raeloren’s army,” he said. He gazed off into the distance, his voice hollow. “He’s one of the lesser gods from the Eastlands. We never hear much about him over on our side, but it’s a dark place over there. Even darker than it had been here at the time, which I’m sure is hard for you to imagine. They came through one night, taking us unawares, and I wasn’t the only one they took. Hundreds of other creatures—men, women, and children alike.”
“What happened to them all?” Rhea’s voice quavered, her throat choking as the words struggled to come out. She bit her lower lip, afraid at what he was going to say.
“I…” Roan began, but paused. He then took in a deep steadying breath and let it out slowly, shaking his head at the memory. His eyes flared with anger, a deep red in the surrounding lights. Trying to imagine him in his lion form was not difficult as his face pulled together in animalistic rage.
“Most of them didn’t survive. They weren’t as lucky as I was, being rescued. They dropped like flies in the circus, obviously untrained in what they expected us to perform. We were forced to jump through fire, to perform tricks that none of us knew how to do. It was all for entertainment of the troops, of course. No one on the outside was allowed in, so no one even knew what was going on.”
Rhea shook her head, her eyes brimming with tears. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She placed her hands on Roan’s knees trying to comfort him, but she knew nothing she did could soothe the horrible memories that plagued his mind.
“I don’t think anyone realized I had been captured for the first few years,” he continued, his voice hard.
Rhea hardly recognized him as he spoke. She was used to him being so calm, so collected and relaxed. She had never seen him like this, so haunted and full of anger and hatred. She would be the same way too, had she been through what he had been though, and she was amazed at his ability to push back the awful memories and live today as if it was a new day.
“I think finally rumors began to spread when the Army passed through Trousdale. Stories spread of the circus as we grew to be popular among the troops. You know how word gets around. People brag about the things they’ve seen in taverns and bars across the land. Eventually the rumors got back to the region surrounding Greystone about this great circus, and people began asking questions.
“It wasn’t until a year after that anyone thought to look for me. It was Grayson, actually, who is responsible for freeing me, but unfortunately, I was one of the last ones left. Everyone had either been re-sold somewhere else, or if not, they were either killed for failing to perform adequately or they died during performance.
“By the end it became almost more of a gladiator battleground than a circus performance. They enjoyed watching the deaths, and soon each performance became an intentional battlefield of murder, people taking bets on who was going to die first. I’ll admit for a while I considered just allowing myself to be killed. It seemed an easy way out after the horrors I’d been through. But I pressed on, because I knew that I had a greater purpose.”
Rhea blinked back tears, her fingers clenching on his knee. Her knuckles were white, and she noticed her nails dug into his legs. She pulled back her hand quickly and muttered an apology, wiping away the tears and looking up at him with sad eyes.
“And what purpose is that?” Rhea offered a small smile and wiped away the tears on her face.
“You, of course.”
Read shook her head, confused. “What did I have to do with it?”
“I knew that the only way these atrocities would stop was if the world could be returned to peace. And for that to happen, the rightful heir would need to return to the throne. You’re the only one who can become queen and rule the land to the open arms of the people and restore peace here, Rhea. I know you deny that, but it’s the truth. And I’m sorry to say, it’s the only way.”
Rhea grew tense at that last part, but she tried to return his smile as best she could. Her entire body ached for him, her heart feeling like it up and smashed into a thousand pieces. “Roan, if I knew, I would have…”
Roan pressed his fingers against her lips. Those fingers were surprisingly soft against her skin. The heat of his touch flowed through her, sending a wave of calming energy through her entire body. “There’s nothing you could’ve done, Rhea. You’re here at exactly the right moment, just when you need to be.”
“Roan—”
“We all believe in you, you know.” he said.
Rhea looked away, allowing his story to fill her mind, the images of his horrible capture imprinting in her memory. She would never forget his story. She would use it to propel herself forward. She had a mission, and she would restore this world to peace. She would not see anyone else captured or anyone else forced to do anything against their will. There would be no more death and no more hatred if she had anything to do with it. She finally looked back to him.
“I’m so sorry, Roan. I had no idea.”
“It’s just a part of war, Rhea,” he said, his expression softening. “There’s a lot of sacrifice and darkness, and not everyone comes out unscathed.”
Rhea swallowed a lump in her throat and pursed her lips together, trying to be brave. She hadn’t endured anything as awful as he had, and she wasn’t going to allow herself to look weak in front of him. “Did they hurt you?” She immediately regretted asking the question, as he had just admitted to being tortured. But she had a desperate need to understand, to fully be able to see what had happened so she could let it fuel her need, her purpose. “Can I see?”
Roan shrugged, lifting his shirt for her to see his stomach. Soft scars littered his skin, an intricate network of lines and slashes over his rippling muscles. Her eyes stung with unshed tears as she reached out to touch him, her fingers tracing the lines of the scars as they wrapped and coiled around his torso.
“Roan,” she began, her voice barely a whisper. She didn’t know what to say, so she simply sat there, her hands against his scarred skin, a single tear falling down her cheek. “I’m so sorry,” she finally said.
Roan was about to respond, but Grayson and Taelor returned. They cast dark shadows around them, the overhead lights making them appear as giants as they approached the bench.
“I found a place for us to sleep,” Taelor said. “There’s a tent not far from here. I believe it is safe for us to camp for the night.”
Roan suddenly nodded his approval, pushed himself off the bench and stretched, his massive muscles gleaming in the fli
ckering lights that surrounded him. He was so tall, his head nearly grazed the hanging lanterns. He clapped his hand on Taelor’s shoulder, smiling. “Great, I’m exhausted. Which one is ours?”
Taelor motioned to the dark gray tent at the far side of the camp, its flags soaring high above the grounds. “The one with the red flags,” Taelor said.
Roan nodded and turned back to Rhea. “I’m going to go rest. See you there?”
Rhea sniffed and swallow back a sob, forcing herself to smile. “Okay, sure. I’ll see you there.”
Roan padded off and left the rest of them at the bench.
Grayson raised his eyebrow and turned back, watching Roan leave. “What was that about?”
Rhea shook her head, running her hands through her hair as she watched Roan disappear into the winding paths that led toward their accommodations.
“Nothing,” she said smiling up at him. “Did you find anything out?”
Arry and Keaven returned to them before he could respond, carrying an armful of stuff. Keaven looked beyond pleased with himself as he carried a sparkling yo-yo and a few decks of strange cards that smoked from within their packaging. Arry carried a bag full of something heavy that jingled suspiciously like coins as he swung the sack around his wrist.
She rolled her eyes at them, smiling, and then looked back to Grayson. “So…anything?”
Grayson sat next to her, unfolding the paper in front of them. “No, still nothing.”
She looked up to Taelor. “Do you recognize them at all?”
Taelor shook his head and took the small piece of paper from Grayson. “They’re familiar, but I’m not sure from what. They’re not actually elven, at least not of any language I can read, though they look similar to the ancient glyphs of my people.” He traced his finger along the outer edge of the paper, picking away at the remnants of the wax.
Rhea sat there in silence staring at the piece of paper, wondering what it could be. “You don’t think it’s just some sort of weird gimmick?”
Her guardians shook their heads, all in unison.
“No, I don’t think she would’ve given it to you if so,” Grayson said. “I can feel a strange energy coming from it. I know it’s important.”