by Ivy Logan
“Let me introduce myself properly,” he said. “I am Damien, King of Aberevon.”
“I already know that,” she muttered, realizing her mistake. He must not realize she was from Aberevon. It would lead him to Michael and Talia.
Luckily, caught up in his own speech, Damien did not hear her. He was saying, “I am the king of Aberevon, but this is not my time. Your friend Ava brought me here from the past.” He whispered into her ear even though they were alone, “She made me journey through time when I was just a boy, and because of that, I am dying slowly each day, and no one here seems to be able to be able cure me.”
“Everyone dies,” Caitlin said sharply. “Accept it.”
“But not you, not Ava. Why? What is so special about you?” the king shouted. “I am the chosen one. I am king. This is my destiny. There is much for me to do. My time is not done. I will not die because you will save me. Do you take me for a fool? Why do you think I brought you here?” he asked dramatically. “I know your secret. You are an immortal sorceress. Either tell me where to find Ava, or use your magic to make me whole again.”
Caitlin shook her head vehemently. She didn’t know Ava’s whereabouts. She hadn’t seen her friend in years. She couldn’t tell him about Nabia and the medallion because he would kill all the children. I didn’t ask for immortality. All I wanted was a family. Why has this mad man brought me here, she who has washed her hands of her supernatural ancestry? How does he know so much?
King Damien smirked as he saw her panic and denial. “Ava isn’t here. You are. You will do. You have to cure me and make me immortal like you.”
Caitlin stared at him in shock. “You ask for the impossible,” she said. “I don’t know how to do what you ask. I gave up magic a long time ago. I can’t help you. I can’t.”
“I promised,” she added softy, almost to herself.
King Damien laughed. “You can’t or you won’t? Promises are meant to be broken; don’t you know that?” he sang out in a singsong voice. But he saw the grim twist of her mouth. She was going to be difficult. A steadfast and unflinching look crept into her expression and in the way she squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye. She had taken on an air of a detachment. She seemed to be saying to him: Do your worst but I will not give you what you need.
Well, he was about to prove her wrong. She would soon be falling over herself to please him. He was about to give her an incentive.
He clapped his hands. The time for games was over. It was time for him to take control. “Bring him,” he shouted. At his command, a small door at the bottom of the steps leading down from the throne swung open. A tall, brutal looking soldier entered. Frozen and paralyzed, Caitlin had eyes only for her seven-year-old son.
“Mama!” Joshua shouted on seeing her. Wriggling out of the soldier’s grip, he ran to Caitlin, his little arms holding on tight. “Mama, Mama,” was all he could say. Caitlin felt the words stick in her throat. She kissed his head and mumbled, “It will be all right.” She knew she was lying. The stakes had changed. Everything was different now that King Damien had Joshua in his clutches. He had been toying with her all along.
“You will do what I ask,” the evil king said, oblivious to her self-recriminations. “Or he will suffer each time you refuse.” Caitlin fell to her knees wailing in terror, begging for her son’s life to be spared. She had no pride or self respect anymore. All thoughts of honouring her Heichi sisterhood were wiped from her head. At this moment, she was just a mother desperate to save her child. “I will do as you say.” The wheels of the prophecy were truly turning. Soon Caitlin would be on the path of no return.
****
The Heichi never used their powers except for the good of others, so working against her inherent nature took a tremendous toll on Caitlin. As she worked her magic, Damien’s weakness fell away, cast from his body like a snake shedding its old skin. The stronger he became, the weaker she grew. Her youth was fading fast. It was as if he was absorbing her vitality and her power, saving nothing for her. Damien forced Caitlin to break every tenet the Heichi held dear, including summoning a magical creature from Htrae, a powerful dragon he imprisoned in his dungeon.
If this continued, immortal or not, Caitlin would soon be nothing but an empty shell.
Caitlin’s fading strength and youth did not matter to her in the least. Going against the vow she had made all that time ago tore at her, but every time she hesitated, Joshua suffered. Damien had a whip that he casually slashed against the little boy’s torso as if he were but a doll made of stone. But Joshua was only human, a boy made of skin and bones, and so his screams of pain would tear at Caitlin’s heart, bringing her conformity even before the next lash fell.
Joshua knew he had become his mother’s weakness. Every time the lash flew, the little boy couldn’t help but cry out in pain however hard he tried to hold back the screams. He was scared, badly bruised and terrified, but he bore the anguish with as much grace and fortitude as he could for his mother’s sake.
More than his own torture, it was the harsh treatment being meted out to his mother that affected the already weakened child and upset him. Ever day he saw the light in her eyes grow dimmer. It was always Garcia who took special pleasure in tormenting Caitlin because he knew it riled the boy. Nobody but the king could lay hands on the boy, but no one said anything about Caitlin being off limits.
Ever since Joshua had attacked Garcia and enjoyed the upper hand for a brief moment, the hunter bore an unreasonable grouse against him. Luigi had been right; Garcia was after vengeance.
The breaking point came when, one day, Garcia took a knife to Caitlin’s delicate skin, cutting her arms in random motions as though it was all nothing but a game to him. Joshua, as expected, went mad with rage. The little boy elbowed one soldier, knocking him to the ground. He kicked another on the shin and tried to make his way to Caitlin.
“Stay, stay,” Caitlin pleaded with him, but it was too late. The fallen soldier’s hands moved, and without any thought of the consequences, he threw a spear at the running boy.
“No! No!” Caitlin raged in protest, but it was too late. Garcia stared open mouthed at the fallen child. He hadn’t intended for him to die. He needed to put as much distance between himself and the boy as possible, otherwise King Damien would have his head. In the interest of self-preservation, Garcia quickly fled the dungeon.
A bleeding Joshua somehow made it to a chained Caitlin. Her screams had stopped. All that emerged were stifled sobs as Joshua lay at her feet barely breathing. Even at the end, he was so full of love. “I love you, Mama. Tell Talia…” he began to say, but then a trickle of blood gurgled from his mouth and he closed his eyes.
Caitlin felt herself go over the edge. She no longer had any reason to be submissive. She lost all her restraint and timidity.
In that moment, at the point of losing Joshua, she saw the truth. A mother always feels the most protective towards the weakest of her flock. She loved her fragile, innocent and wonderful son more much more than she even loved her husband or daughter because his vulnerability made him all the more cherished. She couldn’t exist after what had been done to him. If it were possible to will her own life force to fade away, she would have done so.
CHAPTER XIII
It was just a few fleeting moments. Joshua and you spent two years in the custody of that villain, Damien. After that, my life as I knew it was over. The terror he inspired in Father and I put wings to my feet and took me far away, as it did my peace of mind.
Talia
DAMIEN FINDS HIS QUEEN - TALIA
By the time Damien heard of the chaos in the dungeon, it was all over. He only caught sight of several pale apparitions, translucent like wisps of mist surrounding Caitlin, and then there was nothing. Ghosts, he thought, crossing himself to ward them off, although they showed not the slightest interest in him. Their entire attention was centred on Caitlin and the body of her son in her arms.
He wanted to know what had happened and how hi
s guards had lost control of the situation. Things had been going so well. He had been growing stronger and healthier each day. He caught a glimpse of the bodies of his soldiers lying lifeless on the stone floor and a rage crept through him. Those bumbling idiots must have messed up. Some action of theirs had summoned the magical beings into their midst, he was sure of it. Garcia, who was nowhere in sight, would hopefully have some inkling of what had transpired in the dungeon.
A week later, as Damien took stock, he realized the situation was not entirely hopeless. Caitlin had been in his custody for almost two years; her boy wouldn’t have lasted much longer, and Damien knew that with his death, his hold on Caitlin would end. That is why he had already initiated the search for the rest of her family. Luigi and Garcia had worked well in finding Caitlin, so there was no reason the same duo couldn’t replicate their magic, so to speak, again.
Garcia had a soul driven by greed, so a bag full of gold coins would galvanize him into action. But what of Luigi? Reluctance streamed from every pore. Only the thought of saving himself and his brother had motivated him the last time around. Damien’s spies had informed him that Luigi’s stoic and reticent elder brother had just returned from a failed trip to Zedresh. He hadn’t managed to find a sorceress, which gave Damien a reason to throw Marco in prison.
If Luigi wanted his brother freed, he would have to find Caitlin’s family for Damien. They, in turn, would help him find another sorceress. The situation was still very much retrievable and Damien had a good feeling. His luck had not yet turned. Caitlin’s magic had been invaluable to him. Despite the absence of a sorceress, all was not lost for he still had the dragon she had summoned for him. His very own magnificent dragon chained and imprisoned in the dungeon. His to command and use as he pleased. No one would be able to stop him from world domination now.
****
At Damien’s command, Marco was thrown into a cell. To earn his brother’s freedom, Luigi was tasked with finding the rest of Caitlin’s family. The weary historian prepared to travel north with Garcia back to Szevaci to find Caitlin’s family. The excitement of the search had left Luigi but he would do anything to save his older brother. Before leaving, he went to visit Marco.
“Do not worry, Marco. I will get you out of here,” Luigi told him.
“At what cost?” his brother said. “By throwing more people into this prison instead of me? Is that fair? Don’t we have a god to answer to someday? I would rather you leave me to rot here and take this chance to run away and never return to this awful place.”
“How can I abandon you?” Luigi asked. “You are my family.”
“I don’t want you to do something horrible just to save me. I am sure the king will ask you to commit a crime in return for saving me. During the search for the elusive sorceress, the king needlessly slaughtered our innocent friends just because we didn’t believe she existed. I tell you he is mad.”
Luigi sighed. Marco didn’t know that truth. He didn’t know that Luigi had been the one to find the sorceress. Hearing Marco’s next words, Luigi was glad he had held his tongue.
“What kind of a man throws a child into the dungeon? A little boy was imprisoned in the next cell,” Marco said, unaware of the fate that had befallen Joshua. “He was tortured and now I am even more fearful for him because he seems to have been moved to another location. There is no sign of him or his mother now. I curse the vile man who brought the boy to the king. I am sure it was one of the evil hunters. Just as you are my family, the little boy in the next cell next has family. He used to always talk about his sister in his sleep. It is a pity that even though she is in Aberevon itself, she didn’t know that her brother was here.”
Luigi, who had barely being paying attention to Marco’s ramblings, snapped to attention at the mention of Joshua’s name. “What did you say?” asked Luigi, almost sure he had heard wrong.
“I am touched to see your concern for my little friend but his story won’t help us in any way. The only thing it tells me is that you must flee and never return,” said Marco. “I don’t want you to die too.”
“No. Not that. What did you say about the boy’s family?” said Luigi, his irritation showing.
“How does it matter to you?” asked a hurt Marco. “Unless you intend to help them,” he said, hope burning in his eyes.
“Yes, yes I do!” exclaimed Luigi, hoping that Marco wouldn’t see the deceit in his eyes.
“Oh! Then this changes things,” said a relieved Marco. “The boy, Joshua, has family in Aberevon. His father is a merchant, Michael, and he has an older sister called Talia. The mother—”
“I don’t need to know about the mother,” Luigi interrupted. She was gone; Caitlin’s story didn’t matter anymore. From what he had pieced together, her tale was quite tragic; he didn’t want his conscience raising its head at the wrong moment. He had to focus on saving his brother.
Luigi almost ran to the king immediately. “Anything else you remember, brother?” he asked with barely restrained patience. “Don’t worry; you will be out of here in no time.”
“Nothing more,” said a puzzled Marco, unable to fully comprehend his brother’s motives and connection between his own freedom and Joshua’s family.
As Luigi gave Marco a cursory hug and prepared to leave, he wasn’t prepared for the rawness in Marco’s eyes. His soul protested at his determination to lie to his own brother.
“But why are you so interested in them? Will you help reunite him with his family?” Marco asked before Luigi left. In his brother’s hesitation, Marco saw the truth and realized he had been duped. Luigi was willing to do anything, right or wrong, to save his brother. This isn’t right, thought Marco. I need to remove myself from this situation so that my brother is forced to do the right thing.
And that is exactly what he did a few days later.
****
Barely a week after the incident in the dungeon, a spy returned with news. The family had been found and, wonder of wonders, there was a daughter. Another sorceress—Caitlin’s replacement. Talia sounded perfect. It was time to meet her, to bring her in. Damien had to be careful this time. She was his last hope. He could not lose her too. He would handle this himself and keep his violent and stupid men out of it.
Late one evening, Damien followed Talia while she was out; she was accompanied only by a single maid. As he watched her from his carriage, he was won over by her self-assurance.
Talia was slender in a way that implied she had suddenly lost weight. She had the air of a person who carried a deep sorrow within them. Despite that, there was a poise with which she held herself, which reminded Damien of a gently curling wave as it moved away from the seashore. Her face held so much character, nothing like the glorious but vapid beauties of his court. It was flawless except for the wrinkle between her eyes as she frowned in concentration.
Other than her face, Talia was covered from head to toe. Damien couldn’t see her hair, but he knew it would be blue like her mother’s. Her preoccupied eyes shone bright with either the brilliance of unshed tears or the glimmer of hope; he couldn’t make out which. Maybe he already knew enough about her life, but the fact was, this was a face that had seen a lot of pain but still retained innocence and kindness. Something he had never known.
Beauty, vulnerability, and power; an enticing combination attracting Damien to Talia. He couldn’t wait to meet her. She was little more than a child but she had to belong to him. She would be both his queen and his enchantress.
As he watched, a sudden gust of wind blew Talia’s empty basket away. Dodging the passing carriages, she gave it chase. Hard as she held on to her hood, it still fluttered in the breeze. Her mother had always warned her of the locals’ dislike for the blue hair that ran in their family. Since childhood, Talia had been instructed to hide her hair in the presence of others. Engrossed in play, she had accepted her mother’s words without questioning them and had diligently followed them all these years.
As her basket danced along the
path driven by the whims of the wind, the king watched her coming closer and closer. She was indeed exquisite. It was her destiny to be his and she was coming to him of her own accord.
When the king could no longer control his eagerness to speak to Talia, he stepped out of his carriage. She had finally caught up with the errant basket and was standing right in front of the royal carriage, a sheepish smile on her face.
Sensing movement, Talia quickly looked up. Seeing Damien, her smile faded and her face took on a hunted expression. She obviously recognized him; he had to do something about that nasty reputation of his. As the king stared at her, unable to keep the yearning from his eyes, her expression turned even more wary. He could see how her eyes had taken on the look of a hunted deer. It was only out of her ingrained politeness she clumsily tried to curtsy, but he knew that she would rather flee.
It was time to begin a conversation and win her over. “You are Caitlin’s daughter,” he said. A statement, not a question. It was best to use the element of surprise. “Your mother will be so glad I found you,” said the king in his usual grandiose manner.
Hearing the word mother, the girl was disarmed. “My mother? You’ve found her? Is my brother with her too? Are they coming home?” she asked, her words tumbling over each other in her eagerness to get them out. Damien saw her hope overcome her misgivings about him. In her great hurry to learn the whereabouts of her mother and brother, she did not even ask how he knew who she was. His sorceress was so precious and innocent and so pathetically eager to meet her family. If he were capable of it, King Damien would actually feel sorry for her.
Talia begged to know about their welfare. “Are they all right?” she asked.
He told lie after lie. Her mother came to him with a problem. Someone was chasing her and she was afraid for her life. She had sought his protection.