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Ah, to be proven worthy of their love! (LGBT themes.) |
| I paced the halls of Westwood Castle in search of clues as to what I might be looking for until I noticed that Drensen walked ahead of me, unaware of my presence. No purpose came to mind for this stalking, save the pain of what he had taken. I know I entertained the idea of beating him senseless or of proposing to him myself. I had lost all sense, tripping over the slabs in the hallway and 'hiding' in doorways as I tailed him. Similarly possessed, my beautiful rogue lover never noticed me. "Hello, my lord," one of the sentries said, as we passed by. He looked at me. "Good morning, ah..." A sharp look from me cut him off. We were heading to the garden, to Carolie. Like a little child, I raised my hand. I wanted to call his name, but the sound caught in my throat and I coughed. What to say? The words in my head threatened to destroy everything. As we passed through the Duke's garden, I cringed. He stopped by one of the white barrels to select a Verdant Bloom, a small, green-petaled rose. My heart sank. He had selected the best flower by far, not the largest or most flamboyant. A bud, symbolizing untapped potential, new beginnings. The green velvet petals symbolize life and growth, the family that they would have. The violet leaves symbolized the regal style they would live. Living poetry; masterwork seduction. I smacked my head, trying to get the thoughts together as my throat ached with the choked down scream. I quivered, tingled, and grew tired with every step. Already, Drensen slipped out of reach. In the insane hope that I would find the courage to do something other than watch this disaster play out, I stalked the boy. I had a few more minutes to summon the Wraith-child within me, to defend my heart, when Carolie arrived in the garden. At the flower he had cut, Carolie winced. "Oh, Drensen, is that for me?" She cradled the flower like a wounded kitten. He followed her toward the hallway. "Sweet, I always thought it rather violent, plucking them from the bush like that." She placed her healing hands on the flower, until roots grew from the stem. The pain in my chest soothed, though still my throat wrestled against my voice. Just inside the hall an empty sconce stood ready to accept his gift. "Now I will always remember your gesture of kindness." She stroked the flower. Drensen tapped her on the shoulder, and nudged her to face him. For the first time, I detected in his voice a hint of nervousness, one so subtle that only I would hear it. "I had reason to bring this." He shifted from one foot to the other. "What is it?" I tried to speak, but my throat clenched again, allowing only a small, croaking whine. Cheeks burning, I ducked my head and fell silent, ducking out of the doorway as Drensen looked around. Carolie spotted me. She touched his jaw and pulled his face toward her. "It's nothing. You had something to say?" Drensen got down on one knee, and cleared his throat. 'My ring!' I thought. 'Why doesn't he put it on? Surely he does not intend...' Meanwhile, Carolie put her hand on her mouth, gasping slightly, shooting an alarmed look in my direction. She read me, only then realizing my pain—at least, part of it. "Perhaps this isn't the time..." "No, Carolie. This is long in coming. I think I've known since first my father found and brought you home, that you would sit beside me upon his throne one day." "Oh, Drensen! Do you mean it?" "With all my heart." Shut out of the most beautiful day of my life, I imagined the look on his face, as if he were proposing to me. Tears rolled down my cheeks. "Carolie, my beloved, will you be my wife?" "I would be honored." He produced my ring, and offered it to her, holding it with both hands. The signet still pulsed in time to my breath. She took it, gingerly. "No!" I gritted my teeth, but it had already escaped. I kicked up some dust, and shook my head. As she put it on, a different light came in, a magical shaft of sunlight shining through the walls, into my being. "Forgive our manners, Kissla." Carolie's voice rang out, calling me from my hiding place. I hurried to wipe the tears from my face. "You have been my closest friend, for as long as I can remember. Both companion and protector. I cannot imagine doing this without you. I hoped you would be my maiden of honor." Her voice echoed like thunder, and I heard harps and strings playing in the background, though only in my imagination. With that, the darkness fled like a flock of thieving blackbirds, leaving only the glittering gem of her moment. "Of course! I'll be there. Anything you ask." I rushed into her arms, and buried my face in her shoulder. A small part of me, from a far off part of my head, continued to ask, "What about your own proposal?" Yet, the Wraith's spell held me captive, and rightly so. I would naturally do anything this woman asked—if not quite that enthusiastically.  On seeing me, Verdenten quenched the cinnamon-brown enchantment playing on his table with a bottle of black liquid. The blob sizzled as it boiled away. "My dear lady, you appear ravaged." He rushed over to take my hand. "Have you been attacked? I can summon..." I winced. My burning eyes begged him not to finish the sentence. "Ah. Our deadline has arrived." He let me lean on him as he guided me to a bench away from his workspace. He sat me down and appraised me with a long, sad look. "I believe I have the potion you need." He walked away from his spellcraft table to a single shelf holding few items, merely a loaf of bread, a knife, two small glasses and a dusty bottle. "I thought you didn't drink," I sobbed, staring between my knees. "Dark tides call for a measure of dark spirits." He laid his palm on my shoulder. I stared at the floor, trying to hold back breath and tears. I listened to the thump, thump of the cups and the pop of the cork. He paused for a further moment. "Always dreaded the day that would bring me to open this." He poured the drink. I grabbed my glass, held it to my face, and swallowed. Never before had I tasted such foulness, a sour brew that did not so much burn as scald. When it landed, it ate my insides, sending waves of heat and pain to every nerve in my body until it had erased Kissla entirely. I half smiled for an instant, relishing the numbness. Normal liquor never worked that well. "Horrible! What is that?" He gasped from his own shot. "Senrigoli. Never found a decent translation." he whispered, voice nearly gone. I shook as the next wave of tears burned behind my eyes. "The only cognates I could find were 'Earthquake' and 'Apocalypse.' And something about the heavens bleeding." I laughed, it was so absurd. A more fitting name could never be found. I grabbed the bottle, and held it to my forehead. "Tell me I don't look as bad as this!" "The sight of you could seduce a statue." His hands quivered and he almost dropped his glass. "Don't forget, it's not for nothing that they call me 'wizard.' 'Tis my calling to know." Never before had I seen the man drunk, and now I knew why. I laughed again, and patted him on the knee. "Thank you for that, my friend. You'll forgive me if I accuse you of lying." "Don't trouble yourself. It is a rude drink and you've more important things in your brain locker." I sat there for a long moment while he waited. I reached up and poured myself another, swallowed it down, then loosened the ties on my clothes. "I can't believe it. They've stolen everything. No, that's not right. They've stolen nothing, but I feel robbed. Swindled? I don't know." He squinted at me for a moment, scratching his chin, then made some marks on the parchment. "I mean, I am supposed to be some kind of thief. I travel with a straight-arrow noble and a softhearted witch who've–they've fleeced me of everything." He nodded, frowning. "You mean to tell me Drensen proposed to Carolie." Not a question, yet the drink compelled me to answer. "I do. The two people I want most in the world, and they run off together. Poached? Absconded? I should know which word to use." "I see." I jumped up and screamed, "But no!" I lost my balance and thumped back into my seat. Words jumbled in my head. I squeezed my eyes shut. "You don't see. That's not the worst. The worst is, can't even blame. It's not like I told them. Stood there. Watched him take her. I didn't so much as say, 'Excuse me! I think I saw her first!' Or, you. Him-you not you-you." "You wanted Carolie for yourself." "I did. He offered her my signet, the one I nearly died lifting, and then she said yes, and I couldn't believe that I lost him, too. And you know what? It was the single most beautiful thing anybody ever saw! What kind of scoundrel wants to break up something that beautiful?" I grabbed at the dagger from my sleeve, but my numb fingers slipped around. With an imaginary dagger, I stabbed at my breast. "What you're feeling is natural, Kissla." "Will you stop standing up for me? Damn it!" I yelled, and stamped my feet on the floor. "My friends have the best thing in the world, and all I can think of is how much I want to scratch their eyes out. What's wrong with me?" He swallowed another shot of that brew. Slurring his speech, he said, "You're an evil woman, that's what," and chuckled. "Thank you!" I slapped his knee for emphasis. "That's what I'm talking about." "You are most welcome." He slapped me in the shoulder, and his glass slid out of his drunken hands and shattered against the wall. We leaned against each other on the bench as the room spun. "What in the mazes below am I going to do?" "I don't know, Kissla, my dear—but I'm sure it'll be suitably stupid." "Have I ever told you? You are a true friend." "Least I could do." I couldn't speak, or even breathe loud: I would be heard. That did not stop the spirit of my illustrious grandfather, Kel-Elde. "I can't believe you're here, under their bed. Even I never sunk this low." I clamped my hands over my ears. Though it did not silence Grandfather, it muffled the far-worse sounds from above. I squeezed my eyes closed, though the tears kept flowing. "What are you doing here, Kissla Kel-Elde? What vile intention can you serve?" A fair question I had asked myself. What could I accomplish? Nothing remained for me. Even our name would hold no value outside the gutter. I had only a token, a ring, and I had given that away. "Violence never solves anything." Grandfather shook his finger at me. "I mean, combat, certainly. But this? It's your own heart you stab." My skin crawled and I dropped my chin as I looked at him. What do you think I have in mind? "All I'm saying is, you mustn't kill them." The world has never heard such a disgusting accusation. This has been my highest hope, the name that I would sell my soul into the mazes to restore? This man who thought I could think to murder my friends in bed? My stomach squeezed and jerked. I mouthed the words, "Get away from me!' The thoughts screamed, leaving my ears ringing. "You mark my words! I stabbed a few backs. Had to. You wouldn't be here if I hadn't, believe me! But, it haunts you. Some of them, I would give eternity to see one more time." Again with the silent shout, "Go away! So help me, if you don't!" The rage helped. Its urgency drowned out thoughts of the wedding, of the emptiness my life held, until it too became unbearable. I let my hands drop from my ears, to hear the sweet nothings with which my sweet Duke and my beloved stone angel taunted me. Sobs wracked my body as the tears drained me dry. Nobody heard. Father had taught me to be silent in the most extreme circumstance. I must admit, I longed for the thumbscrews and other, simple challenges of my training. "No matter what you do, I always will love you." Grandfather stood up in the middle of the bed. "It pains me to see my family fail to rise above the folly of my example." Turning toward the door, Grandfather faded like a vapor. Far from ending my mission, my Grandfather's diseased fantasies spurred me on, gave me purpose. I no longer quested for some worthless heirloom from a fairy tale my father told. I had to get that cursed ring away from them, to get the Wraith away from my helpless, innocent friends. As the hours passed, I went numb all over, and finally slipped from my body. I did not know if I dreamed or went fully insane, but for a time I watched with ghostly disinterest as they consummated their love. Soon, I grew bored with that, and turned from them. When at long last the second moon's coppery light faded into the cold, red dawn, they fell asleep. I crawled out of the prison beneath them. I said, in a loud whisper that seemed to echo through the cavernous spaces of the Duke's castle, "Come to me, you crawling spawn of the mazes below." I snatched my ring from the finger of that foolish, thieving woman and slipped into the night, not even pausing to check if I had disturbed their dreams. Shaking from my ordeal, probably white as a ghost, I trespassed on Verdenten's room. He slept on the bench, having been too busy to go to bed. I slapped the ring on the table and shook him. "My friend! I need your help." "Oh, yes." He patted my arm where the dagger laid. "The hourglass has nearly drained. I must begin immediately." He rose and went to his work area, pulling several bottles from the shelf. "My grandfather, he haunts my ring," I said. "I need to get him out of there." "Yes, yes, of course." He waved me away. "The Wraith fell to the rebellion far too easily." I opened my mouth to speak. Verdenten waved me to silence. "All in due time. Right now, we will have a more pressing issue." "What? What could be more pressing than this?" "Senrigoli? We shall be having company, I'm afraid." He began mixing things in a small burning bowl and lit them with a few words and a flash of magic. "The prognosis borders on catastrophic." Drensen burst in. By the grace of gods, he carried only a dagger, and wore his bed clothes. I, however, still wore my wedding attire and had far less schooling in honest combat. Father preferred I win from behind my enemy. Worse yet, over Drensen's shoulders I could see a flickering black haze that sent shivers down my spine. Verdenten rasped, "Hold him off." Drensen, speech slurred, yelled at me, "What's the meaning of this? Breaking into my bedchamber, stealing our wedding ring?" I grabbed a crate full of bottles and dumped it, wielding it like a two handed shield. "That was mine! An heirloom. You'd no right! No right at all." "What kind of game are you playing?" Drensen stabbed wildly at me, again and again. I deflected his dagger every time. "He's not in his right mind. Groggy. He should be able to get at me easily." "Drensen is unwilling. Count on that to change," Verdenten said. "Soon, Kel-Elde will dominate." I shuddered. Grandfather had possessed Drensen?" I don't understand. Why is Grandfather attacking me?" "Never mind. Keep them focused on you. I believe I have the advantage." Drensen slurred his words like his stabbing motions. "Your Grandfather? What are you nattering about? The only person here is me. And you!–are not making sense." He shook his head gently. "That ring belonged to my grandfather." I lunged forward with my makeshift shield. "He was a king. I wanted to prove my lineage." "It was the s-" Drensen shook his head. "-poils of adventure. Yielded, of free will." "I thought you were going to propose to me." "What fever, this? Thou, common wench?" The voice grew cold, and unfamiliar, completely unlike Drensen. "I could never." My voice broke, whining, "But, why not?" "'Tis not done! Behind closed doors, sure, but..." "I am the grandchild of royals! An emperor. It is I who should be above you." Drensen rolled his eyes. "Ancient history. Your grandfather made kings tremble, but you? You're a thief, not worthy of the blacksmith's illegitimate son." My head spun. How had he known—had Father told him? He'd never let on. Drensen's words had kicked me in the gut. Tears flooded the room, and I lowered my crate long enough for Drensen's dagger to come within a finger's breadth of my face. Verdenten stopped his chanting for a moment. "It's not him talking. It's the Wraith. Kel-Elde is trying to weaken you." Suddenly it made sense again. Drensen had always treated me with respect."Grandfather! I will not let you do this to me." Drensen smiled, and his voice cleared. "A fantastic champion, this Drensen. Far better than that viper Aldredge. He, and his wife, are more worthy than all of my children put together!" "Why are you doing this?" "This family you have chosen? Their empire will one day dwarf my own, and I intend to be behind that throne." "Over my dead body." "'Twill never come to that." Drensen chuckled low. "You have not skill nor strength to force my hand." "But I do!" I realized it was true. "We are every bit worthy, my father and I. More than you." "Nonsense!" He slashed my cheek. "But, do keep saying it. One day, it may be true. I do hope so." He tore the crate from me, then slammed me against the wall. He stroked my throat with the sharp edge of the dagger, which sent shocks to the back of my head. "If you can convince me to spare you. Beg!" I wanted to let it end right there, to defy him with my last breath. How dare he do this to me, to my friends? Right then, I meant more to him than I did to myself. Yet, Father knew his work, had trained me to master my ego. "I'm sorry, your majesty. Please, allow me to live." "Raphael did fine work!" His voice rang with approval. "It takes all your will to say the words, yet say them you do. That's something." When Drensen's dagger came a safe distance away from my throat, Verdenten tossed the flaming contents of his bowl at Drensen's heels. A net of light flew up around Drensen. He shivered and shook, flinging the dagger against the floor. Verdenten hastily sketched a circle around the young noble's feet. "Will that hold him?" I held my forehead. "What are we going to do? Can we make him forget?" "Drensen never woke. Your grandfather—if we can exorcize him—will take the memory with him." Verdenten returned to the workspace, to attend to my ring. "I thought you needed time to…" I narrowly made it to my seat when I collapsed. "...prepare. How were you so quick to do this?" "You will remember, I told you to wait." He said, flipping through a book. "It was not the Aldredge family that I feared." "You knew? I can't believe... " "A wizard's true calling, to know." He peered over his glasses, and sighed. "Perhaps, if I become a better one, I might divine a way to make you listen. Now, please: allow me to work." He set about banishing Grandfather's spirit from Drensen's body and from my life. I sat down on the bench to consider. Suddenly, it didn't seem so bad, watching Drensen marry Carolie. After all, they were alive, and free of the curse I had fought so hard to steal from my cousin. Check out Kissla in her career:
And later, when her actions come to a head:
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