Matinus kept glancing out of the corner of his eye. It was strange watching his mom - well, his step-mom - sitting beside Colin on the grass. His attention would be pulled when Nioma would find a weird-shaped rock or something equally silly to show him, but Matinus kept looking and feeling.
It was a different love than what he felt when Sanria and his dad were together. She loved her dad and was protective of him, but the feeling Matinus felt was how when his dad and Sanria were together, their hearts kinda melted into one another. She adored his dad. With Colin, though, it was different. Matinus could feel something more here, something old that wasn't as lovely as what he'd been feeling when his dad and Sanria were together. He put his finger on it at the same moment Nioma splashed him by dropping a large stone in the stream. Colin was scared, Sanria knew it.
Matinus wiped the water from his cheek and snapped at Nioma. She looked sad for a moment, then chased after a squirrel. He sat there, feeling more. Colin was scared of something and it made him want Sanria all to himself. But, Sanria, mom, didn't feel the same. Like she knew he was afraid and it made her tired. Like she was being nice. Like she loved him less than she loved his dad.
Matinus kept stealing glances and feelings, but for a moment he was happy. He felt Sanria loved his dad more. Then they kissed and Matinus had to look away. It just looked wrong. He was happy, sure, that all the adults were getting along, but he found himself wishing it was just his dad again. Like Sanria belonged to his dad, not to two guys.
He sighed as Nioma came up, waving a muddy stick around. He shooed her away, then his mom got up and Colin got up and their time was at an end. Nioma led the way back through the forest, skipping and singing at the top of her lungs, then Sanria and Colin, then Matinus - watching, feeling, ingesting. He wasn't really sure how to feel. This whole thing was a little more than confusing. It was awkward.
The End Is Where We Begin II/II
As the last of the incantations died away, Ror examined the container and smirked, "Really, did you think we would let you get away just like that?" He spoke to Mason's soul in its prison. He turned to the guards, "Get rid of that. His corporeal remains are worth nothing, but if you let them lie about it will bloat and stink." That said, Ror walked away with the container to the laboratory, the metal chain thrown over his shoulder, dangling just above the ground.
The guards nodded, and one bend over to check the body whether it was still alive. Funny how humans could act in such situations. "He's dead," said the guard, stating the obvious. "No pulse, no breathing and no use for us. Let's finish the job and dispose of his body." Together they picked up Mason's corpse and dragged it to the highest cliff of Torregiano where they threw it into the deap sea. There it would rot and serve as fish food or perhaps wash ashore somewhere, but this was of no concern to the Tripower anymore.
Meanwhile in the laboratory, Ror had installed the container in his latest experimental device. Originally he had intended to use it for materia experimentation, to help his fiancee. But a soul would do too. Having slotted the container into place he adjusted the crystals and runes a bit before starting. And so, in the early hours of the morning, the soul of Mason was subject to a torturous experiment in which Ror unravelled the soul like one would unravel a ball of yarn, or a spider web. The sage didn't look away. On contrary, there was a fire in his eyes that burned brightly as he watched the process of Mason's soul deliberately being pulled apart bit by bit by Ror's magic and equipment in this experiment.
And Ror learned as Mason's soul was torn apart and disintegrated. Never would it join the lifestream: its memories and essence lost forever, save the knowledge Ror learned in return. Such irony, thought Ror, that a man who would be known as the most incompetent leader the Tripower had ever seen, would serve the Kingdom one last time in his final hour.
After the last of Mason's soul had disintegrated into nothing for good, Ror switched the experiment off and sat down. "I need to write this down," he thought, and he grabbed his research journal to start making notes.
But instead he wrote down,"The End Is Where We Begin," and he placed the feather back in the ink. He sat there in silent contemplation, until the sun came up.
The guards nodded, and one bend over to check the body whether it was still alive. Funny how humans could act in such situations. "He's dead," said the guard, stating the obvious. "No pulse, no breathing and no use for us. Let's finish the job and dispose of his body." Together they picked up Mason's corpse and dragged it to the highest cliff of Torregiano where they threw it into the deap sea. There it would rot and serve as fish food or perhaps wash ashore somewhere, but this was of no concern to the Tripower anymore.
Meanwhile in the laboratory, Ror had installed the container in his latest experimental device. Originally he had intended to use it for materia experimentation, to help his fiancee. But a soul would do too. Having slotted the container into place he adjusted the crystals and runes a bit before starting. And so, in the early hours of the morning, the soul of Mason was subject to a torturous experiment in which Ror unravelled the soul like one would unravel a ball of yarn, or a spider web. The sage didn't look away. On contrary, there was a fire in his eyes that burned brightly as he watched the process of Mason's soul deliberately being pulled apart bit by bit by Ror's magic and equipment in this experiment.
And Ror learned as Mason's soul was torn apart and disintegrated. Never would it join the lifestream: its memories and essence lost forever, save the knowledge Ror learned in return. Such irony, thought Ror, that a man who would be known as the most incompetent leader the Tripower had ever seen, would serve the Kingdom one last time in his final hour.
After the last of Mason's soul had disintegrated into nothing for good, Ror switched the experiment off and sat down. "I need to write this down," he thought, and he grabbed his research journal to start making notes.
But instead he wrote down,"The End Is Where We Begin," and he placed the feather back in the ink. He sat there in silent contemplation, until the sun came up.
The End Is Where We Begin I/II
An officer stood before Ror's desk. Hands on his back, waiting. Behind the desk Ror was studying a six page internal report. There was a frown on the elf's face as he read the report carefully, and with each page the frown turned deeper. When he was done, he tossed the report on his desk and sighed, squeezing the bridge of his nose with two fingers.
"Sir?" Asked the officer, and Ror raised his hand only to drop it back onto the leather armchair. After a moment, he let go of his nosebridge and eyed the report on the table. "So... Mason has been dealing with Vector..." The officer looked down at the report and then said, "Sir, there's more than that: allegations of corruption, power abuse, general negligence of duties..."
"I already knew Mason was incompetent," interjected Ror. "But that's something else than being a traitor." The officer fell silent, then curtly nodded. Ror waited, and let this sink in a bit. The officer forced to wait with him. After some time Ror made his decision and opened a desk drawer. Inside were two black leather gloves. He took them out and put the first of two on before the other. It was a tight fit. As he stood up, the officer said, "Sir?"
Ror ignored him for a moment as he took a black coat from the coatstand and wore it. Before exiting his office, he turned and said to the officer, "Tell Aneh she's been promoted to leadership. I'll deal with Mason." Ror's face was grim and serious. He closed the door behind him, leaving a saluting officer behind in his office.
The halls of the Tripower were silent as the lone figure of Mason skulked through them, until he eventually encountered clan guards. Ror watched from the shadows the display of bloody violence as Mason found his deserved end at the hands of the instructed guards.
On this world all life is connected to the Lifestream. In a way life itself borrows its existence from the Lifestream, to collect experiences and then - upon death - to return. Something Ror, as sage and as expert on this topic, was well aware of.
And so, as the first sword stabs pierced Mason, Ror stepped forth from the shadows behind Mason. Ror's dark cloak billowing and his eyes glowing a sinister blue from the magic he cast. A strange device like half a pair of glasses was on his face, and in his gloved hands a long metal chain. The chain swooped through the air and at its end was a crystal container. As Ror summoned magical energies, it started to spark. And in Mason's dying moment, Ror tore Mason's soul away from Mason's body and trapped it into the magical container.
The guards had stopped stabbing and now watched Ror finish the last of his druidic incantations. The magic made their neckhairs stand up. They were reluctant to act, allowing a large pool of blood to form around the corpse.
"Sir?" Asked the officer, and Ror raised his hand only to drop it back onto the leather armchair. After a moment, he let go of his nosebridge and eyed the report on the table. "So... Mason has been dealing with Vector..." The officer looked down at the report and then said, "Sir, there's more than that: allegations of corruption, power abuse, general negligence of duties..."
"I already knew Mason was incompetent," interjected Ror. "But that's something else than being a traitor." The officer fell silent, then curtly nodded. Ror waited, and let this sink in a bit. The officer forced to wait with him. After some time Ror made his decision and opened a desk drawer. Inside were two black leather gloves. He took them out and put the first of two on before the other. It was a tight fit. As he stood up, the officer said, "Sir?"
Ror ignored him for a moment as he took a black coat from the coatstand and wore it. Before exiting his office, he turned and said to the officer, "Tell Aneh she's been promoted to leadership. I'll deal with Mason." Ror's face was grim and serious. He closed the door behind him, leaving a saluting officer behind in his office.
The halls of the Tripower were silent as the lone figure of Mason skulked through them, until he eventually encountered clan guards. Ror watched from the shadows the display of bloody violence as Mason found his deserved end at the hands of the instructed guards.
On this world all life is connected to the Lifestream. In a way life itself borrows its existence from the Lifestream, to collect experiences and then - upon death - to return. Something Ror, as sage and as expert on this topic, was well aware of.
And so, as the first sword stabs pierced Mason, Ror stepped forth from the shadows behind Mason. Ror's dark cloak billowing and his eyes glowing a sinister blue from the magic he cast. A strange device like half a pair of glasses was on his face, and in his gloved hands a long metal chain. The chain swooped through the air and at its end was a crystal container. As Ror summoned magical energies, it started to spark. And in Mason's dying moment, Ror tore Mason's soul away from Mason's body and trapped it into the magical container.
The guards had stopped stabbing and now watched Ror finish the last of his druidic incantations. The magic made their neckhairs stand up. They were reluctant to act, allowing a large pool of blood to form around the corpse.
Finding Shadows
Eladrim left the room after holding Claire. It felt empty without the presence of the tribal leader, and Ruthivan stood by the bed still. Finally, he sat down, looking at the floor, his brow creased. "I'm sorry I had to bring him here. I know you don't like when I involve your family." She said nothing and he continued. "Claire, I knew you were going to try to run away, so I had the healer put up a ward. I know that if you get away from me, you're going to kill our child. I know you don't want me, or it, or any of us. It hurts me so deeply, but we are bonded. You know that if you ran away, it would only be a matter of time before your body would draw you back to me, just as mine would seek yours."
Ruthivan paused and then reached out, taking one of Claire's hands in his own. He placed it over his heart and looked at her earnestly. "I don't want to be angry with you, or upset, or... I just want to love you and you love me. I want us to help our race, and I want us to be accepted back into the tribe. If you keep running away, or wanting to, and keep refusing everything I try to do, we will never get that chance."
Finally she looked at him, but the look was distant and raw. "Didn't it ever occur to you that I didn't want to live in the tribe? All those times, didn't you understand that? Why else would I have run away?"
At that moment, Ruthivan knew the defeat was total. He bowed his head as though acknowledging the passing away of any hope he had for a Claire who loved him for himself. He let pass the hope that he would ever be welcomed back into the only home he'd known on this planet. He took her hand from his heart and lowered it. When he raised his head again, his expression was hard. "Then we won't ever go back. But you will not go anywhere else, Claire. You don't have to love me, you don't have to want your home, you don't have to desire anything, but you're not leaving me or our children. You can hate me and loathe me, but you will do your duty. I'll ensure it."
Ruthivan stood up, feeling a pain in his heart. He never wanted to turn into this - he hoped the nature in him would only have to be reserved for fighting others, never his wife. Never his Claire. He shoved the gentle desires away in favor for that of a man on a mission. He had a duty and his duty was to make this woman stay loyal, serve her people, and honor her bond.
"If you ever start to see how you could and should love me, then I may let up. Until you do-"
"Please... just drug me and let me sleep."
Ruthivan stared at her for a long moment, his jaw set. He finally looked down to the rug, crossed the room, and got out his vial and cloth.
Ruthivan paused and then reached out, taking one of Claire's hands in his own. He placed it over his heart and looked at her earnestly. "I don't want to be angry with you, or upset, or... I just want to love you and you love me. I want us to help our race, and I want us to be accepted back into the tribe. If you keep running away, or wanting to, and keep refusing everything I try to do, we will never get that chance."
Finally she looked at him, but the look was distant and raw. "Didn't it ever occur to you that I didn't want to live in the tribe? All those times, didn't you understand that? Why else would I have run away?"
At that moment, Ruthivan knew the defeat was total. He bowed his head as though acknowledging the passing away of any hope he had for a Claire who loved him for himself. He let pass the hope that he would ever be welcomed back into the only home he'd known on this planet. He took her hand from his heart and lowered it. When he raised his head again, his expression was hard. "Then we won't ever go back. But you will not go anywhere else, Claire. You don't have to love me, you don't have to want your home, you don't have to desire anything, but you're not leaving me or our children. You can hate me and loathe me, but you will do your duty. I'll ensure it."
Ruthivan stood up, feeling a pain in his heart. He never wanted to turn into this - he hoped the nature in him would only have to be reserved for fighting others, never his wife. Never his Claire. He shoved the gentle desires away in favor for that of a man on a mission. He had a duty and his duty was to make this woman stay loyal, serve her people, and honor her bond.
"If you ever start to see how you could and should love me, then I may let up. Until you do-"
"Please... just drug me and let me sleep."
Ruthivan stared at her for a long moment, his jaw set. He finally looked down to the rug, crossed the room, and got out his vial and cloth.
Ultimatums (1-2)
The salts went into her nose so sharply Claire sat bolt upright. She hastily looked about the room and saw her father sitting on the edge of the bed at her side. 'Father...' she exhaled, and threw her arms around him. He did not greet her as warmly, and Claire knew something was going on. She saw Ruthivan in a dressing robe, looking out the window.
'Claire,' her father said, taking her hands into his own. 'Ruthivan has reached out to me and asked me to speak with you. From all he has said, things here sound desperate.'
'I... don't want to be here anymore, father.'
'And where do you wish to be?'
'Anywhere else.'
'Is your life here so terrible that you wish to leave your mate and your children?'
'I never wanted him as my mate. He pushed me into this.'
'Because I love you!' Ruthivan said, turning, but Eladrim held up a hand for silence.
'My dear Claire,' her father said, 'I know you did not go seeking Ruthivan, but he has been with you for more than three hundred years. He has been by your side, helping you run away even when you were asked to stay at home. When will you stop running?'
'Father...' Claire exhaled and looked at the blue eyes that had been so kind. She saw in them weariness. 'I...'
'At some point you must realize that life has given you a task. You have children here, and though they were granted through nefarious means, they are here nonetheless. Though this Epser,' and here Eladrim gestured to Ruthivan, 'has done quite trivial things, I do know that he is desperate to have you love him, and if you did try, he would drop heaven and hell for you.'
Ruthivan rounded the bed and took one of Claire's hands in his own. He knelt on the floor and looked up at her. She'd never seen such naked concern, care, worry... desperation. 'Claire,' he said, and she saw the face that had helped her so many times before. His eyes were tearing. 'I would rip this world asunder for you. None of this was ever meant to hurt you. Ever.'
'And I am to forget all you did to ruin my life?'
His head was heavy against her hand as he pressed his forehead to it. 'I was trying to make your life better!' he breathed. 'There were forces at work beyond just Ruthivan, Claire. Your mother wanted this union as well. I, too, for a time, had hoped you would settle your wanderings and be with Ruthivan. We had chosen him for you long before now. The truth is,' her father sighed, 'no matter how it came to be, this is the outcome we had all desired.'
'Except for me,' Claire whispered. 'My dear,' her father said, resting a hand on her leg with a squeeze, 'If you did not have wanderlust, you would be happy. There would be pride in yourself and the fine family you now have.'
'But he treats me like cattle, father.'
Eladrim sighed deeply and looked to Ruthivan, then back to Claire. 'Ruthivan, do you mistreat my daughter.' Ruthivan finally released her hand and stood. 'I only try to keep her in line. I have never struck her.'
'You do not have to hit me to hurt me.'
'Claire,' Eladrim said, regaining her attention. 'This was your intended. You are with your intended.'
'But I don't want to be, father.'
'But you are, and if you leave him, you will break apart a family. You will leave children motherless and our people cannot withstand such a thing. Claire, at some point you must stop thinking of yourself and realize you have responsibilities. You have a duty to your family and your people. If you fill yourself with desires of the outside world, ours are the people that suffer. Please, understand.'
Claire tilted her head back and closed her eyes, then let her head fall forward, bowed beneath the pressure of the conformity pushing at her from all sides. 'Father... I don't love him.'
'Perhaps you can learn that in time, dear one.'
'I don't want to learn, I want to be free.'
'None of us are free, Claire. And until our people are back from the brink, that will never change. Do you understand?' Claire kept her eyes closed and meekly gave a nod.
'Claire,' her father said, taking her hands into his own. 'Ruthivan has reached out to me and asked me to speak with you. From all he has said, things here sound desperate.'
'I... don't want to be here anymore, father.'
'And where do you wish to be?'
'Anywhere else.'
'Is your life here so terrible that you wish to leave your mate and your children?'
'I never wanted him as my mate. He pushed me into this.'
'Because I love you!' Ruthivan said, turning, but Eladrim held up a hand for silence.
'My dear Claire,' her father said, 'I know you did not go seeking Ruthivan, but he has been with you for more than three hundred years. He has been by your side, helping you run away even when you were asked to stay at home. When will you stop running?'
'Father...' Claire exhaled and looked at the blue eyes that had been so kind. She saw in them weariness. 'I...'
'At some point you must realize that life has given you a task. You have children here, and though they were granted through nefarious means, they are here nonetheless. Though this Epser,' and here Eladrim gestured to Ruthivan, 'has done quite trivial things, I do know that he is desperate to have you love him, and if you did try, he would drop heaven and hell for you.'
Ruthivan rounded the bed and took one of Claire's hands in his own. He knelt on the floor and looked up at her. She'd never seen such naked concern, care, worry... desperation. 'Claire,' he said, and she saw the face that had helped her so many times before. His eyes were tearing. 'I would rip this world asunder for you. None of this was ever meant to hurt you. Ever.'
'And I am to forget all you did to ruin my life?'
His head was heavy against her hand as he pressed his forehead to it. 'I was trying to make your life better!' he breathed. 'There were forces at work beyond just Ruthivan, Claire. Your mother wanted this union as well. I, too, for a time, had hoped you would settle your wanderings and be with Ruthivan. We had chosen him for you long before now. The truth is,' her father sighed, 'no matter how it came to be, this is the outcome we had all desired.'
'Except for me,' Claire whispered. 'My dear,' her father said, resting a hand on her leg with a squeeze, 'If you did not have wanderlust, you would be happy. There would be pride in yourself and the fine family you now have.'
'But he treats me like cattle, father.'
Eladrim sighed deeply and looked to Ruthivan, then back to Claire. 'Ruthivan, do you mistreat my daughter.' Ruthivan finally released her hand and stood. 'I only try to keep her in line. I have never struck her.'
'You do not have to hit me to hurt me.'
'Claire,' Eladrim said, regaining her attention. 'This was your intended. You are with your intended.'
'But I don't want to be, father.'
'But you are, and if you leave him, you will break apart a family. You will leave children motherless and our people cannot withstand such a thing. Claire, at some point you must stop thinking of yourself and realize you have responsibilities. You have a duty to your family and your people. If you fill yourself with desires of the outside world, ours are the people that suffer. Please, understand.'
Claire tilted her head back and closed her eyes, then let her head fall forward, bowed beneath the pressure of the conformity pushing at her from all sides. 'Father... I don't love him.'
'Perhaps you can learn that in time, dear one.'
'I don't want to learn, I want to be free.'
'None of us are free, Claire. And until our people are back from the brink, that will never change. Do you understand?' Claire kept her eyes closed and meekly gave a nod.
Questioning Yourself (1-2)
Ruthivan watched Claire's even rise and fall of a deep sleep. He got up and leaned against the window, looking out over the night as if fell on the hill, and over the camp to the west. That was where he had ultimately wanted to be. Accepted back into the group of Espers that Claire's father led. But he had a human and half-breed living behind him, and he happened to marry the one Esper in that group who never could be bothered to stay home and help her own people. He thought he could change her.
There was a pang of guilt he felt as he turned back to look at her. He had four children with her and wanted at least eight. But she had wanted none of them. Certainly, she loved them and took care of them as she should, but just that he had found her at the door was- frightening- to him. He'd seen desperate people before, and rarely were they ever rational. But he'd forced them all on her, and now the fifth she carried. He supposed, all the while, that she would settle down. And for a time she had.
Now they were back to square one. Ruthivan pulled on a robe and sent a message to Eladrim, waking Claire's father. "What do you want, Ruthivan."
"Please, Eladrim, can we meet in the forest to talk?"
"My daughter?"
"Yes. I need help."
It wasn't long before the two stood in the trees, a protection spell hiding them from the rest of the world, keeping their voices from being heard to all outside of the bubble. "She hates me but she won't listen to reason. She's expecting," Ruthivan said.
"Again?"
Eladrim seemed put off, but Ruthivan persisted. Claire's father truly was the only one left to whom he could appeal. "Yes, our fifth."
"Yet she hates you? How did this happen?"
"I... had to..."
"You drugged her?"
"Yes, Eladrim," and Ruthivan bowed his head. "But if I did nothing she would have left. She wants to break the bond and leave me and her children."
Eladrim stared at Ruthivan in the dark. There was a look of disgust nestled in his eyes, but pity as well. "Ruthivan, you've pressed so hard on her and she still refuses you. Have you considered letting her go?"
"No," Ruthivan snapped. "She is with me, she's my wife, mother of our children."
"And she doesn't want any of it. Her mother and I have given up - she is a lost cause. You already have children with her, why not count them blessings and release her?"
"Because if I can just get her to see, we can come back to the group, we can be around our own people and not in exile."
Ruthivan could feel the energies of Eladrim bristle. "So long as she runs away and you chase her and force her, you are not welcome. You know that."
"Then help me," Ruthivan said, going down onto a knee. He bowed his head and pulled his hands to his forehead. "Please. I can't lose her and I can't have her leave her children. I just want her to love me, Eladrim. I want to give her the world, if only she'd love me."
There was a long sigh in the darkness. "Stand." Ruthivan did as he was told. "I will speak to my daughter for your sake. If I can make her see sense, then we can work toward your reinstatement. But if she does not wish this, you may well have to release her."
Ruthivan held his tongue even as a trill of dread raced through him. The last thing he wanted was to give up. He nodded. "I will wake her."
There was a pang of guilt he felt as he turned back to look at her. He had four children with her and wanted at least eight. But she had wanted none of them. Certainly, she loved them and took care of them as she should, but just that he had found her at the door was- frightening- to him. He'd seen desperate people before, and rarely were they ever rational. But he'd forced them all on her, and now the fifth she carried. He supposed, all the while, that she would settle down. And for a time she had.
Now they were back to square one. Ruthivan pulled on a robe and sent a message to Eladrim, waking Claire's father. "What do you want, Ruthivan."
"Please, Eladrim, can we meet in the forest to talk?"
"My daughter?"
"Yes. I need help."
It wasn't long before the two stood in the trees, a protection spell hiding them from the rest of the world, keeping their voices from being heard to all outside of the bubble. "She hates me but she won't listen to reason. She's expecting," Ruthivan said.
"Again?"
Eladrim seemed put off, but Ruthivan persisted. Claire's father truly was the only one left to whom he could appeal. "Yes, our fifth."
"Yet she hates you? How did this happen?"
"I... had to..."
"You drugged her?"
"Yes, Eladrim," and Ruthivan bowed his head. "But if I did nothing she would have left. She wants to break the bond and leave me and her children."
Eladrim stared at Ruthivan in the dark. There was a look of disgust nestled in his eyes, but pity as well. "Ruthivan, you've pressed so hard on her and she still refuses you. Have you considered letting her go?"
"No," Ruthivan snapped. "She is with me, she's my wife, mother of our children."
"And she doesn't want any of it. Her mother and I have given up - she is a lost cause. You already have children with her, why not count them blessings and release her?"
"Because if I can just get her to see, we can come back to the group, we can be around our own people and not in exile."
Ruthivan could feel the energies of Eladrim bristle. "So long as she runs away and you chase her and force her, you are not welcome. You know that."
"Then help me," Ruthivan said, going down onto a knee. He bowed his head and pulled his hands to his forehead. "Please. I can't lose her and I can't have her leave her children. I just want her to love me, Eladrim. I want to give her the world, if only she'd love me."
There was a long sigh in the darkness. "Stand." Ruthivan did as he was told. "I will speak to my daughter for your sake. If I can make her see sense, then we can work toward your reinstatement. But if she does not wish this, you may well have to release her."
Ruthivan held his tongue even as a trill of dread raced through him. The last thing he wanted was to give up. He nodded. "I will wake her."
Quelling Protests
He was staring at her again. Only this time it was the middle of the night and he was staring because she had a plan. She -had- a plan and it had failed. She'd had a plan and he'd anticipated it. How was she to know?
***
As soon as his breathing was regular, Claire slipped from the bed achingly slow. She opened the bedroom door without a sound and went into the rooms of the other children. She watched them sleeping. She knew she'd miss them.
She went to the front door and put her hand on the door knob. As soon as she was far enough away, she would send her child back. She'd find someone to break the bond her bond with Ruthivan. Then she'd keep on the move and he'd never find her. She turned the knob and pulled the door and a flash of white light blinded her. The door didn't move.
She tried again with the same result. She didn't notice the sound coming from her throat -a muffled, strangled moan. She tried the door again and a sob came out. Then she turned around and saw him standing there. His face was amused, angry, hurt and confused. He covered it. 'I thought I told you stay with me.'
'You've trapped me here!'
'Shh. You'll wake the children.'
'You've trapped me in my own home!'
Ruthivan crossed the room and lifted her into his arms. He looked at her with a pitying smile and nodded. 'With good reason, look at you. I can't let anything happen to the two of you.'
They got into the bedroom and Ruthivan laid her down before pulling his sleeping potion from a drawer. Claire knew the rest of the story and didn't bother to protest as the cloth covered her nose. She fell into a forced sleep, feeling him caressing her cheek. She heard his words as if from a dream, 'I won't let you out of my sight. Our people should never be alone. You'll never be apart from me again. You'll never be alone. I'll be there for you, forever.'
***
As soon as his breathing was regular, Claire slipped from the bed achingly slow. She opened the bedroom door without a sound and went into the rooms of the other children. She watched them sleeping. She knew she'd miss them.
She went to the front door and put her hand on the door knob. As soon as she was far enough away, she would send her child back. She'd find someone to break the bond her bond with Ruthivan. Then she'd keep on the move and he'd never find her. She turned the knob and pulled the door and a flash of white light blinded her. The door didn't move.
She tried again with the same result. She didn't notice the sound coming from her throat -a muffled, strangled moan. She tried the door again and a sob came out. Then she turned around and saw him standing there. His face was amused, angry, hurt and confused. He covered it. 'I thought I told you stay with me.'
'You've trapped me here!'
'Shh. You'll wake the children.'
'You've trapped me in my own home!'
Ruthivan crossed the room and lifted her into his arms. He looked at her with a pitying smile and nodded. 'With good reason, look at you. I can't let anything happen to the two of you.'
They got into the bedroom and Ruthivan laid her down before pulling his sleeping potion from a drawer. Claire knew the rest of the story and didn't bother to protest as the cloth covered her nose. She fell into a forced sleep, feeling him caressing her cheek. She heard his words as if from a dream, 'I won't let you out of my sight. Our people should never be alone. You'll never be apart from me again. You'll never be alone. I'll be there for you, forever.'
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)