The Forsaken Prophecy

Chapter Twenty

"Battlefield McCoy is a famous battlefield," Ayren said after a while of silence. "Most major wars have at least one battle there. We can get medical help and everything once we're there."

Rowen was staring off into the distance, and Jason nodded broodingly.

"We may have to fight once we're there," Ayren tried. Jason just closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"We can also give the king our maps and he can go free the other prisoners," Ayren said quietly, and Rowen smiled slightly. So she was listening!

"I'm going to call the king," Ayren said. "He gave us the battlefield but he's no doubt in one of the hidden clearings in the woods surrounding it." It felt good to talk, to state the facts as he thought of them.

He carefully placed his flighter--thank goodness it was a newer model--on autopilot, pulled out the holoprojector, and called the king.

"Sir," he said, "we are out of enemy territory. You can safely give us your coordinates now."

The king had a look of cold rage on his face. "Can I, boy?"

"Wh--what?" Ayren's blood ran cold.

The king held up a piece of parchment. "This is from The Man With The Scars.Tamría's number one enemy and the man behind this war." The king crumpled up the paper and tossed it to the ground.

"We trusted you," he hissed. "I trusted you. Spy."

"I'm not with them anymore! I--"

"I don't give a damn!" shouted the king. "You will not return. You are banished. Trust me, boy, I am being lenient."

Ayren found it was getting hard to breathe as the king watched him silently. "Wh--why call me out when I have your daughter?"

The king laughed bitterly. "For all I know, you made her like that. Also, I believe strongly in the powers of the One and the Blessed. And you would have killed her by now if you wanted her dead. The Blessed will be able to see my location, but there's no guaranteeing you'll be alive to follow them after you've explained what you've done."

The call ended.

Ayren knew he was right. Rowen's raw explosion of power was incredibly advanced, and now her abilities were honed. She had also been resting. If she wanted to, she could summon knives rather than noodles.

Jason and Rowen were staring at him, equal rage, fear, and confusion flitting across their faces.

Ayren sighed. "We need to talk."

*

Jason stayed with Maria and the flighters as Ayren led Rowen into the woods.

Rowen felt her anger growing. Sure, she didn't have all the pieces, but she had heard enough from the king.

"So you're a traitor. A spy," she snapped as Ayren stopped.

"When I was five, Mom died. Dad went when I was ten. Took his own life," Ayren began.

"I don't care about your sob story right now!" interrupted Rowen. "That's not what I'm asking."

"This is going to be hard to explain," moaned Ayren with a short, humorless laugh, running a hand over his face.

"You bet your ass it is," Rowen growled.

"I joined his forces when I was eleven. I was an orphan and starving, grieving and homeless. At the time, I had no other options except for death."

Rowen shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Don't. Feel. Sorry. For. Him. "There are always other options."

Ayren's eyes flared with anger. "You're incredibly naive if you believe that."

Rowen dropped her gaze to the forest floor as Ayren continued.

"Immediately, they brainwashed me. Had me believe the king and his followers were the ones responsible for all the pain in my life. And he set me to work."

"Wait," Rowen interrupted yet again. "Who is 'he?'"

Ayren clenched his jaw, considering. Finally, he replied, "Terr."

"Terror? Like, fear?"

"No. T-e-r-r. It literally means 'darkness' in some human language...Albanian. His mother traveled between dimensions and he was born there. Learned to speak the language. It's not his real name, of course. No one who's still alive knows that." Rowen snorted. The insanity of this all was beginning to glaze over the whole Ayren-is-a--spy thing.

"Yeah. It's not funny." Ayren took a deep breath. "He--he broke me. But if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be so--so powerful. And I'm still not nearly as powerful as you'll grow to be."

Rowen was almost too afraid to ask what he meant by "broke me." She thought she deserved answers, though.

So she asked.

And she got answers.

Answers of torture. Of burning-hot iron meeting tender flesh. Of nights of terror as people screamed and things killed. Of whips. Of sharp tools. Of death threats and awful disease. Of deformity and weakness.

Rowen was shaking and crying by the time Ayren was done. She covered her face and sobbed, terrified by the visuals she had been given of a deformed little boy, tortured over and over and over with no end, no merciful death, no way out.

Rowen uncovered her face after she collected herself.

The face of a different boy met her.

Ayren's blond hair had turned hazel. His eyes were now a warm chocolate color. He had the exact same facial structure, however. It looked like Ayren had simply dyed his hair and put in colored contacts.

Except for the scars.

An ugly white scar traced from his right ear to his cheekbone, running parallel along it until it dipped jaggedly, barely missing his nose and mouth and ending at his jaw. But that wasn't the worst one by far.

Thick, ropey scars could be seen from his neck. His arms had thin scars and thick scars. When he blinked, his left eyelid had a burn scar.

"Where--who--" Rowen stammered in shock, looking in horror at the snake-like neck and arm scars and then the eyelid burn.

"Who do you think?" Ayren snapped.

"Terr," Rowen immediately responded.

Ayren took a shuddering breath. "I've done...horrible things for him, Rowen. Horrible, unforgivable things."

"Well, that may be so," Rowen said after a beat of uncomfortable silence, "but I think I'm going to forgive you."

Ayren smiled in relief and Rowen's heart skipped a beat. She couldn't help it--she trusted Ayren. Now, he had just lost some of that trust and respect. He would be able to rebuild it, however.

"How did you disguise yourself?" she asked, realizing she didn't know that advanced magic.

"It's my special skill. Every magical færie has one," Ayren explained. "I use--used it on missions so people didn't recognize the scars. I was sent to the castle to start this war. I've toppled kingdoms for Terr before. I couldn't risk being recognized. But I--I want to put all of that behind me. I want to fight for your side. I decided when you...almost got shot." His voice was so earnest, his expression hopeful

Rowen thought of all that Ayren had been forced through and tears began running anew down her cheeks. Spontaneously, she threw herself at Ayren, hugging him tightly, and bursting into tears.

All the fear, pain, confusion, and anger came pouring out.

*

Ayren felt a tear slip out of his eye as Rowen sobbed into his shirt. "What have I done to deserve this?" he murmured.

He eased them both gently to the ground and leaned against a tree trunk, Rowen curled next to him. Her shoulders slowly heaved.

Ayren drew strength from her. He had to be strong so she could be sad. He had to.