Stay True

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Stay True Page 11

by C B Jean


  Killians brows wrinkle for a moment before it disappears, and I barely caught a glance that Jackson passed to Luke. Great. They noticed. I wince.

  “Shit I really thought that was the lie.” Kills says trying to cover up what passed on between them. “But now that you mention it, I would love to see a private runway show of you in your uniform. Maybe a little cheer for me?” He winks at me and eyes me up and down.

  I playfully push his leg away from mine on top our horses, shaking my head with a smile.

  “Maybe if you can guess my favorite food, then we will talk.” And I return his wink and a lick of my lips. He groans and I hear him mutter a string of curse words.

  “What was the lie Cub?” Luke asks tenderly and I turn my head to face him. He’s looking right into me, trying to see if I’m okay. A subtle hint that I can tell him what was bothering me. I shift uncomfortably again on the Arabians back feeling scrutinized.

  “Nop, sorry can’t tell yea. You guys lost that round.” It comes out playful with a shrug of my shoulders getting back at him, despite how I feel. Empty. Sad. Lonely. Thinking of my mom can do that to yea. I never even had the chance to say goodbye.

  Killian, picking up on my discomfort, starts debating with the guys about which part of Goonies is the best. As I have never seen the movie, I didn’t offer any of my input. I didn’t dare tell them that wasn’t a lie, but they are being generic enough as to not ruin the movie for me which I appreciate so I kind of had a feeling they figured it out.

  I did feel my mood lighting up after a few minutes when they started debating which 80’s movies were the best. Soon, I was joining in and laughing, trying to explain why Princess Bride was better than Luke’s favorite Back to the Future after he refused to back down. I couldn’t decide if I enjoyed it based on the fact of when you’re facing the options of being consumed by flesh-eating eels to be made into fish poop or getting kidnapped by Wallace Shawn and Mandy Patinkin, choose the latter. Or maybe it was about never trusting a man with six fingers, but you can always trust a man in a mask that appealed to me. I had a feeling it was just dreamy Westley that I liked the most.

  You could melt any girl into a puddle with those words. As you wish. The epitome of romance.

  As we have been getting closer to the temple today, the weather has been steadily dropping and we can see snow peaked mountains in the far distance. It’s no longer sunshine and rainbows, but rather dark, grey clouds hide the sky and snow now lightly covers every surface including us. It feels icy cold, but I no longer have that tingly feeling I used to get compared to being in the real world when it was cold enough to freeze toes and fingers. Now it was barley annoying like a scratch you can’t get rid of. I had donned my red cloak that was so kindly given to me after Jackson had insisted I keep it and I am grateful he did. He doesn’t seem bothered that I am now wearing it, only pleased with himself somehow which makes my red nose and cheeks redden further. He must have had a spare because a new green one is protecting himself from the elements. It does a great job from hiding my face and back from the cold wind, but my pale hair managed to escape from underneath my furry hood and floats in the breeze dancing around me.

  We ascent a hill on the not so trekked road we are traveling on and my heart stops when we reach the top. I was expecting a temple or an actual Mosque of some sorts, but no. It’s a magnificent flipping castle. It’s located in a valley below us, surrounded by beautiful snow peaked foothills. Everything is white in the basin, buried in snow. Almost everything. All besides the blood red castle made from crimson stone. Each red rock is in perfect proportion to the others as if made with perfect care and craftsmanship and it seems to sparkle in the light when it manages to peak through the dense clouds. It looks as if the palace is hundreds of years old, but in a way that seems to resonate maturity and prime of life. Like a fine wine being aged. Three giant towers rise above the keep amongst the castle rooftops, and it has tall battlement walls surrounding the entire castle and is heavily fortified. The gate house looks abandoned but is open for us to pass through. The only thing that is missing is a moat with hungry crocodiles in it.

  I was in awe as I looked at the sight. It was a symbol of strength and grace, those who lived and worked inside were loyal and devoted to the crown. The ones on the outside would see greed and power to be taken, a sense of defiance to those who reigned. The walls were built for resistance to those who dare not bow and would challenge the royals, but also protection to those who needed it. I could imagine archers nocked with quiver and arrow ready to release on command standing on the battlement aimed at the opposing threat. Knights standing tall, the ones who would ride into the fray to defend those unable to fight, for was it bravery and for honor or plain foolishness? I could hear the horses and flags dancing. Cold swords in sweaty hands clanking.

  I took a deep breath to steady myself and nudged my horse on.

  As we rode closer, I marveled at the beauty of it. The stone is ruby red and seems to glitter with the frosty ice covering it. The contrast is amazing against the white background. Everything here seems frozen, even time. Not a single soul or animal is out here right now, besides the four of us. The only thing I can hear is our frosty breath dying in the wind and the snow crunching strides of our horses.

  My Arabian horse beneath me blends in perfectly with our surroundings and I wished I could the same, as a rogue and usual loner I’m feeling vulnerable here and sticking out like a sore thumb. I never liked the snow. It feels eerie here. My horse gives me an anxious snort and a sidestep as if she doesn’t like the way this forest feels either. I pat her neck comfortingly, for both our benefits. We near the gate of the red castle and I have a feeling like we are walking into a trap or as if someone is watching me from behind the trees.

  “Remember, figure out the riddle and stick together in pairs if we get separated. We don’t know what we are up against, not a lot of players have been able to pass this one.” I tell them quietly. They nod in understatement and Killian gives me a cheeky thumbs up.

  We pass underneath the gated archway, no solider or NPC is here. It’s as if this castle has never been used or lived in. We enter an empty courtyard and suddenly it’s like déjà vu for me. I hope this time it has a happy ending and not blackness. We heard towards the lit stables on the side of the inner ward where we can rest our horses. We are nervously waiting for anything to happen. Before we dismount, a stable hand walks out and bends at the waist with a hand tucked in, greeting us. He is just an NPC it seems, a generic young man in an outfit that screams “close advisor to the king” in his striped trousers that look more like shorts, white tights and a red dress coat. The creators really have tried to make this the ultimate experience it seems.

  “Welcome to the Red Mosque. Please allow me to tend your horses. You can leave your weapons here as they are not permitted inside the castle itself, they will be watched over safely. Prepare yourself for a game of the mind. At any time if you wish you may forfeit you will be sent outside here to the square and can try again if you wish. Be warned it will cost you though. Your pursuit will start once you reach the staircase and a fellow representative will meet you there. Good luck Horizion champions.” With that, he bows once more and walks into the stables. It was said in such a monotone voice, it was almost sarcastic.

  We stuff our weapons into our packs and leave them on the horses. Luke is grumbling about not having his axes with him, he treats them as if they are most precious to him.

  I think it’s cute.

  He’s right though, I feel naked without any dagger or sword hanging off me and I can’t do hand to hand combat worth a damn. Something I plan to remedy one day. Good thing I have three ex-military gods who would love the chance to teach me some self defense one on one.

  I rub my horses nose once and give her a kiss on it as a goodbye. I know she’s only computer generated but it comforts me. She nips my nose with her lips as if kissing me back and walks into the warm stables with a happy neigh escaping the bi
tter cold.

  I lift my head high and walk towards the castle doors and up the stone steps, my hands in fists at my side and my long white hair billowing behind me. My men follow beside me ready for anything. I stop in front of the red door and turn back to look at them, dread and anxiety pouring off me.

  “We got your back Cub.” Luke says as he kisses my forehead. Jackson and Killian nod encouragingly at me.

  Jackson makes a move out army gesture, one I’ve seen in military moves. He’s telling me it’s okay and safe while he’s got my back. I nod and push open the door.

  It swings open without a sound and instantly my cold chill leaves me, as its much warmer and cozy in here.

  Once inside we see a marvelous manor and my eyes widen. A red plush carpet is rolled down the middle of the corridor, and candle sconces light up the walls giving off a dim but warm light. Glass chandeliers hang from the reflective glass ceilings, shinning red rays of light everywhere and sets of knight armor standing guard and coats of arms line the passage. There are oil paintings hanging on walls as well showing beautiful landscapes and lounging women with men flocked to them and rich tapestries hung from the ceiling. It’s very breathtaking, but too much red for my liking.

  We walk down the corridor, admiring everything, but staying very cautious for any lurking danger. My hand instantly goes to my waist band to grip my dagger, but I forgot I didn’t bring it with me, so I end up grabbing air instead. I twist my mother’s ring on my finger instead to keep my hands busy. Killian grabs my hand sensing my distress and I squeeze it back in thanks.

  “Face your past for what haunts you is near,

  the power within one will defeat the other.

  The power divine will set you free,

  your mind is your greatest enemy but also your key.”

  I mutter softly to myself. I have no flipping idea what it means. I only know that my past is haunted, and I don’t want to go back ever again.

  At the end of the corridor we come to a giant staircase in a very open room. It goes up a couple steps up to a giant red and gold double door on the stairway. From there it splits into two and they wrap opposite ways of the walls, up higher to the balcony above us. It reminds me of the stairs off the ship from the movie Titanic and how graceful the actress slid down those steps. This room also has more paintings, bookshelves, display cases of armor and weapons, but most impressively is the biggest chandelier I’ve ever seen in my life hanging down above us. It’s breathtaking and I can’t stop looking at it. On the left side of the room is another giant wooden door underneath one stairwell that must be leading into another room. Good to know in case I need to bolt.

  To the side of the staircase is a young lady that I’ve just noticed. Her sandy hair is curled tightly into ringlets that are half pinned up and flowing over her shoulder and her hands are clasped in front of her. She is wearing a forest green bodice dress that clings tightly around her breasts, then flows out into a poofy skirt. She must be wearing one of those cage skirt things I’ve seen in movies. She is strikingly beautiful, and I feel so unproper and dirty next to her in my leathers, even though she’s not real. Next to her is a full-length mirror.

  “Welcome, just inside up those stairs is the Grand Hall where you can enter once you past your challenge and collect the key. First we need to make sure you look the proper way.” Her voice is robotic and sounds off and I want to flinch away at it but I don’t, my limbs are hard as steel and I have to force myself to move.

  She beckons to me first and I hesitantly step towards her after a nod from Luke. She motions to the mirror and I step in front of it. I look at my appearance bashfully. I take in piercing blue eyes staring at me, my bloody and torn leather pants, my frayed corset vest. I finger moms ring on my hand nervously. Thankfully my hair is behaving well and falls silky down my back.

  Suddenly the mirror glows and a white light comes from it forcing me to cover my eyes with my hands. When I open them, I’m looking back at the mirror, but my reflection is gone. Instead I’m looking at my men who look angry, shocked and are yelling at me, but all I hear is silence. I’m now inside of the mirror looking out. All around me in nothingness, only the mirror in front of me and what I can see outside it. I try to touch the glass, but I can’t seem to get back through. Its like watching a movie play out on the other side and I can’t do anything besides watch.

  I pound on it with my fists and yell to them confused, but my voice sounds distant like it’s underwater.

  “Jackson! Killian! Luke! Answer me! Help me, oh flip get me out of here!”

  Anxiety flares within me and I start to hyperventilate. I want to get back to my men, I don’t want to be trapped here alone. I don’t want to be alone anymore period.

  No sound comes out. I see Luke run towards me and presses his hands and forehead to the glass. I place my hands over his and tears fall down my face as I keep screaming at him, hoping he will hear me. Luke mouths something and I know what he’s calling me. He brings his fist back as to punch the glass to break it, but a light comes from the woman’s hands and sends him flying back into a bookcase shattering it. I scream in anger at his wellbeing but stop pounding on the glass once I see him moving and getting up.

  I see her shake her finger at him like he is a child getting lectured as he rubs his bruised head. She turns to me.

  “Face your past for what haunts you is near, the power within one will defeat the other. The power divine will set you free, your mind is your greatest enemy but also your key. This is now your challenge. Good luck… Doll” I hear her voice inside my mind, her lips are not moving, she only has a smile on them. She turns and walks to the wooden door on the other side of the room and waits there patiently. Doll?

  The guys rush me to the mirror and are all three of them are trying to talk to me, but I can’t understand any of them. I get frustrated over them panicking and I scream at them to shut it, even if they can’t hear me. I hold out my hands in a stop gesture once they notice, and they comply. Weren’t they taught how to stay calm over dramatic situations? I hold a hand to my ear and throat, trying to tell them I can’t hear anything or speak. Jackson nods and says something to Luke.

  Luke places one of his big hands on the glass, and I copy him, placing mine where his is. He leans down and puts his forehead on the glass as well. I place mine on the cool glass, and we stand there facing each other for a moment like that. Not touching, separated by a thin wall, but just sharing a moment like we usually do. I stand tall again, only one last tear rolls down my face and I let it.

  Killian mouths to me “Good luck, I love you…” then smiles sheepishly.

  I smile back and blow him a kiss. I mouth back “Ask me tomorrow for my answer to that.”

  I see the NPC lady who trapped me here say something and my guys wave their goodbyes and smile halfheartedly at me. I can tell they are worried about me, but I’ll get us out of here no matter what the cost by winning this challenge. Luke is the most reluctant to go refusing to leave me, but after being dragged away by both his brothers they walk after her and follow her through the wooden door. Once they are gone with one last angry and stressed look to me, the door shuts. I sigh and turn around. This is peachy.

  I start to freak out more when I notice where I am. The nothingness is gone. Its my old apartment. The one where I beaten and almost killed multiple times by Aiden. I turn around again to look through the mirror, but it is gone, only a white wall is there now.

  My pulse skyrockets and almost start to hyperventilate again as I clutch my chest. I notice I’m wearing an old pair of jeans and a black tank.

  I want to cry, I want to roll into a ball and never move again, but then a realize this is just a test and nothing can hurt me anymore. No one can. I need to be strong and get back to my men. I have to face my past. I have to do this. Just breathe Remi.

  I clear my throat and push back all my negative thoughts. I’m in my old living room by the front doorway. I see the stairs leading up to where my old ro
om was. The kitchen, a spare bedroom door and the connecting bathroom are in the hallway. My old couch and tv are in the spot I last remember them. I walk through into the kitchen and freeze when I see his back is turned to me.

  Its him. It’s Aiden. He’s at the fridge scrounging through it. I don’t even need to be near to smell the alcohol. He reeks like booze and sweat. Whiskey and cheap beers. He pulls out a beer and swaggers back to close the fridge door. It’s just like the old days. Him getting drunk then beating me. My heart is racing in my chest and for a second I think about running out the front door.

  “The fuck you looking at Remi?” he slurs to me. He pops the cap off his glass bottle onto the floor and takes a swig. His glassy eyes linger on me. He is totally wasted. He is barely managing to stay on his feet with how drunk he is.

  I almost take a step back, but I don’t.

  Aiden used to be attractive to me. All I see now is his evil and rotten heart.

  His shaggy brown hair is matted with sweat, his blue eyes are dull. He’s fairly tall, around six foot five and has over a hundred extra pounds on me plus some all from working out. His clothes are stained and disfigured. He has an unkept five-o clock shadow and bags under his eyes and a nasty scowl to complete his look. At home this is what he looked like. A drunk bastard.

 

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