The world spun.
Waverly's head remained low as she stared into the stream. A lingering blur was all she that she could glimpse of her reflection because of how her teardrops constantly dropped into the water, causing endless ripples. The lake was almost frozen; thick with forming ice in some places and clear in others.
Winter had taken hold of Alpgeton faster than anyone could fathom. The following morning was like a dreary miracle; everything turned stark white and the air went crisp with cold. Sleet rained down endlessly and concealed colors in the grass, matted flowers and buried tree trunks. Several animals went into hibernation and rendered the forest near empty save for kinds that did not sleep during the season.
The Burrowers built trenches everywhere and because their homes were now hidden under the snow, it caused unsuspecting strollers to trip over on their feet. On any other day, it would have been a very hilarious thing to see but Waverly was in a state of obliviousness and failed to notice.
She had on the white coat Cassiope had given to her as she sat still and almost lifeless in front of the rushing stream, deaf to the serene silence that came with morning. She had not been able to sleep a wink the night before. Her eyes were puffy and red. She had shunned food and people for hours, opting to sit by the lake long before the stroke of dawn.
The weather was cold but her chest was filled with heat; a burning anger.
Dermot was dead and it was not a dream nor was it a hallucination. It was real and Diarmaid's fault.
Brijjet explained to her how it had happened. They were on the battlefield; the Company had been stationed in subtle ranks behind the King's Generals while their brother unit, the troops, would act as reinforcements. They were to lay ambush on the dark army as they pushed past the citadel and take them from both corners. The plan was already underway until Diarmaid was spotted leaving the troops.
Apparently, he had set up a trap that did not work despite having been triggered and was going to check on it. It did not take long before a bunch of She-Monsters found and surrounded him. Brijjet and Dermot kenned the commotion and ran to help.
The fight had been short and went smoothly until a She-Monster took a swipe at Diarmaid who stood with his back to her. Dermot had pushed his unsuspecting brother out of the way and took the fatal blow instead. The She-Monster's blade was revealed to have been dipped in venom and it killed Dermot on the spot.
Waverly tried to put the scenario out of her mind but it proved impossible no matter how hard she tried. It fueled her anger whenever she remembered and hated that it made her furious at Diarmaid.
He has always been reckless to a fault. She thought bitterly.
Waverly felt her chest become heavy again and broke into tears, concealing her face in the warmth of her coat. She shivered in the pouring snow but ignored the gooseflesh that had long invaded her skin. The streamlet felt like a hiding place. Here, she was sure that no one would be able to find her, at least not until she was ready to be found.
An agitated feeling suddenly rushed like exploding lava through her blood stream and forced her to stand up. She angrily took off her coat and tossed it to the side, huffing and puffing cold air as she paced along the bank of the stream.
He cannot be dead. She repeated over and over.
It felt like something sharp edged had briskly and dolefully begun to prick open the fresh hurt in her chest. She screamed and kicked the boulder she had been sitting on and the rock shattered to pieces. She grabbed at her hair, completely blinded by grief, and began to yell and scream. She kicked at everything; the icy water, strewn pebbles and wet soil and even went as far as taking off her boots and throwing them away.
When she finally ran out of steam and things to throw and kick, she fell face flat on the snow and began to cry. She stayed that way for many long hours, blaming Dermot's death on herself, on Diarmaid, Oculmus and herself again. The snowfall lessened but the cold grew. Waverly began to realize she was shaking terribly but found no strength to get up.
She also realized that she was starving, sleepy and awfully parched. She had not eaten nor drank anything at all since the previous day neither had she closed her eyes. This combined with the frustration and pain she felt made it awfully harder to lift herself up. She could almost hear Dermot in the back of her mind, encouraging her to go back to camp and have lunch and a long nap. She imagined him saying she would feel better afterwards and furiously kicked at the snow with her toes.
How dare you! She thought and sniffled, tilting her head in an attempt to keep her face and nostrils away from the fluffy wetness under her.
It'll just keep getting in your nose if you don't get up.
Her mind soon conjured up a strong imitation of Dermot's voice but she forcefully ignored it. The same thing had happened to her for weeks after Havilah died but in that case, she had been seeing her friend everywhere. As if on impulse, she conjured up an image of Dermot as well then shut it out swiftly.
"No. Stop!" She muttered weakly.
Get going or i'll make Borzoi sit on you.
Waverly chuckled briefly then began to cry again. She knew it was all in her head and it hurt more that none of it was real. She feared she would have to deal with that forever - conjured memories that were so vivid they felt alive.
I am going to count to five and if you don't stand up, i'll get the dog.
Waverly stirred.
I mean it, Waverly. One. . .
She whimpered and momentarily drove her face deeper into the snow, ignoring the freezing burn that etched into her skin.
Two. . Three. . Four
She groaned, wiping under her eyes with the hem of her sleeve then pushed herself to a kneeling position. When she looked up, the smiling face of Dermot was quickly fading into nothing.
She gasped in complete shock and sat back on her heels, eyes wide with fear and wild hope and her heart racing rapidly. She placed a hand against her chest to try and calm herself down as she stared about in wary alarm.
Dermot had looked real - very much unlike the spectral form she had hallucinated Havilah in.
Waverly blinked a few times trying to convince herself that she had not seen anything at all but a profound feeling of certainty opposed this thought. He had been there.
She cautiously lay back down again but this time with the protection of her arms against the snow. She tried to remain calm, aware of how dangerous it was that she toyed with her emotions in this manner. When nothing happened after a few minutes, she broke into heavy sobs again.
Then she heard it.
That's it. I'm calling Borzoi.
A sharp whistle made Waverly scurry to her feet and there he was - Dermot stood with his hands on his hip, looking into the trees as if waiting for Borzoi to emerge.
Waverly arose and cautiously took a step forward. Dermot turned in her direction. She gave a sharp gasp then frowned when it dawned on her that he could not see her. He suddenly broke into triumphant laughter and staggered back.
I thought you'd stay down there forever. He said.
Waverly felt utterly confused. She did not know if what she was seeing was a sort of hallucination or a foresight. She watched as Dermot's eyes followed someone that she could not see nor hear. She easily guessed that the invisible person was her because he kept calling out her name then he suddenly darted toward the trees and vanished.
Waverly stood still in contemplation, her teeth chattering aloud and her toes curling to keep off the snow. She suspected that she had subconsciously created a vision but in a futuristic setting where Dermot was still alive and she was apparently sulking over something.
But what?
She flailed a hand cautiously around where Dermot had stood and felt a strange incredible hum that lifted the hairs on her skin. The air around the spot was thick with warmth, quite similar to the state of a couch after someone had sat in it for a long time.
Waverly hurriedly picked up her coat. Her boots had landed farther off in the stream and so she could not retrieve them. She raced through the trees following the trail of heat Dermot's form had left behind.
Unlike every other season, winter saw Snow Elves more than ever. They were up and about and loitering around the forest. Waverly zipped past them as she ran headed for Nael. It was a very long run and it was a miracle that she survived it in the cold. She ran through the city ruins, navigating her way through burned houses and fallen structures until she arrived at the flat wide building of dark green that was the Generals base.
A vault was right behind it.
There was an ivy covered fence around the snowy compound and a metal gate in front but Waverly knew it was never locked and neither was the door. Dermot had been balmed and placed there. He would be honored during the Crossing the next morning and his ashes would be brought back to dwell where other numerous soldiers and generals who had died before him also laid.
Halfway to the entrance, Waverly halted. She could no longer feel the heat; it was as though it suddenly ended right in front of the vault door. Nonetheless, she held the knob and turned it. The door opened without a sound and let her in.
The inside of the vault was clean and comprised of countless sarcophagi but there was a particular room in the middle where the recent dead were kept. She made a beeline for that room and noiselessly pushed open one side of the heavy double doors. The room was like an endless tunnel, illuminated by flaming torches that hung from the numerous pillars inside so that not a single patch of the place was dark.
Arranged in adjacency around the room were wide columns that held all kinds of coffins. Waverly trudged quietly up the steps of one such column to the plain wooden coffin Dermot had been placed in. With her heart pounding in her chest, she gently pushed the lid open. A tiny breath escaped her lips when she saw him - still dead, although cleaner than he was before, laid on a pure white cushion that looked to be made from swansdown. His injury was still visible - dark against his skin - but it was treated so that it just looked like a fresh scar. The necklace she had woven out of Calaire for his present was tied around his wrist. He was dressed in beautiful golden robes and stamped on his left breast were three honorary medals; one of bronze and the other two of silver. The bronze medal held the image of a four headed lion - The Iz.
Waverly clearly recalled Dermot teaching her about the creature once when she had asked about it. The Iz was guardian to the entrance of the fifth realm of power - The Sacred Space - but Elves revered him because during the first Great War he had taken sides with them in secret. After the war finally ended, his likeness was crafted into medals and onto shields to represent selfless bravery.
Waverly cried quietly as she rolled her thumbs over the medal, her sobs echoing across the walls. She placed a hand on Dermot's face. It stung deep that he looked so peaceful and yet was unaware of the pain he caused for being so still.
She placed her other hand against his cheek as her sobs turned to spasmatic hicks then slowly rested her head on Dermot's chest and cried until his robes were drenched with tears.
From the corner, Waverly felt a presence as if someone had just entered the room. Of course she had gone into the vault without authorization despite it being left unlocked and was bound to get caught. Besides, the door was wide open. The intruding presence trailed past and came to stand on the other side of the coffin. A hand touched Waverly's hair and her first guess was Diarmaid. She looked up and saw no one then her head darted to Dermot. He was gazing down at her looking puzzled with one arm resting on her head.
"Why on earth are you crying?" He asked.
Waverly shot up to a stand and stared at him in disbelief. He slowly began to sit up then glanced at his robes.
"Why am i wearing this?" He inquired and glanced up at Waverly. Slowly, realization dawned on him. "Waverly, what have you done?"
Suddenly, a corner of the room blackened. Dermot hurriedly climbed out of his coffin and unsheathed a sword that had been strapped to his side. He pulled Waverly to himself and she wrapped both arms around his torso.
The darkness rippled and spread out and then the outline of a leg stepped out of it in a sideways fashion. The next thing they saw was a dress. It was a deep red and as the darkness unfolded around it, Waverly realized the dress was made not of a cloth but of liquid - blood, in fact.
Then, a woman became visible. In her one hand was a bloodstained silver dagger with a magnificently decorated hilt. Her hair was black and wild, her face taut but beautiful; covered in black scars and what looked like a birthmark on her jaw. The liquid around her made Waverly uncomfortable with the way it shrouded her like a normal dress, splitting open on one leg all the way to the ground. The woman was barefoot and beautiful but visibly furious and possibly highly dangerous.
"Who is that?" Dermot asked weakly. Strength seemed to suddenly drain from him and his body began to incline.
The woman took a threatening step forward then halted when another woman materialized right in front of her with her palm held up in a stopping motion.
The latest intruder was someone Waverly recognized all too well.
"I will take care of this." Selene said.
The other woman growled in protest. "I do not have such time."
"You will hold your peace and allow me handle this one. She is, after all, my daughter." Selene said. Her tone was unbelievably commanding albeit calm.
With a bit of reluctance, the other woman stepped backward. Selene turned to face Waverly and Dermot, the latter staring at the scene in utter disbelief.
Selene had a look of utter disapproval on her face. "What do you think you are doing, Waverly?"
Waverly did not give a reply. Instead, she dropped her gaze. Selene came forward, her bronze vest glowing unnaturally under the light of the torches in the room. She was dressed in a white sleeved gown with a high, close-fitting collar, turned back on itself and covering all of her neck. Her hair was pleated beautifully and her silver crown rested in it.
"I expected you to deal with your situation in better ways than this. Do you think resurrecting the dead fixes anything?"
"I wanted him back." Waverly replied meekly.
"And because of that you believe you have the right to snatch a soul from me?" The other woman barked, loosely gripping the hilt of her dagger as if she intended to throw it.
Selene turned and there was a sort of forced composure in her tone when she spoke.
"Peace, Deusa."
Deusa kept shut again but her snarl remained. Waverly knew who the woman was now - Deusa, the goddess of the dead. She turned to Selene who had an angry but curious look about her face.
"Tell me why you did it? That is all i wish to know." Selene inquired, more calmly.
Waverly looked up at Dermot and he simultaneously mirrored her action. It seemed he too was curious to know why he had been brought back to life.
"I. . . could not. . . contain it."
Selene stepped forward. "Contain what?"
Waverly looked at her mother, wondering what made her so interested but she knew that restoring a life was out of bounds to mortals, Zanaan or no Zanaan, and she was lucky that it was her own mother that had shown up and not some other rash deity.
"The. . . urge and. . . the pain." She replied quietly, tears streaming slowly down her face. She realized that once the conversation ended, Deusa would claim Dermot's soul and he would go back to being dead. It made her feel weak from head to foot. "Please, mother, let him stay."
Selene gazed at Dermot then back at Waverly. "Even i cannot give you the permission for that. This is a crime in Enton and by doing this you could have incurred the wrath of Deusa upon yourself."
"Could?" Deusa stressed with a scoff but Selene ignored her.
"You have to release him."
"I can't." Waverly said shaking her head.
"If you let him live then the reason behind his death would be null. He died to save his brother, yes, it might seem unfair but it was an act of pure love and you have to allow that ripple."
Waverly looked up at Dermot again who was slightly still shocked at the sight of two deities. She gazed at him for a long time then shook her head in refusal.
"I won't let him go. I don't care what she says." She said with a tone of finality and through gritted teeth, looking straight at Deusa.
"Waverly!" Selene called in a warning tone.
Deusa flipped her dagger into the air and all the torches went off, plunging the room into total darkness. Waverly swiftly channelled the gems on her wrist and put up a protective barrier around her and Dermot. Just then, something heavy bumped against the barrier. A full moon appeared over their heads and illuminated a part of the room.
It all happened so fast.
"This is an outrage!" Deusa screamed. Her voice shook the entire vault.
Waverly looked up and saw figures shrouded in black hanging from the ceiling. Only their luminous red eyes were visible.
"Soul Hunters." Dermot gasped in recognition of the dark figures. He looked to be more awed than afraid.
Waverly heard a sharp snapping of fingers and the torches blazed again. Selene still stood in the same spot she had been in but Deusa now stood nearer to the door, her black cloud hovering behind.
"Waverly, you must listen to reason. There is nothing you can do to keep him alive." Selene admonished.
"I can keep him alive. I will try." Waverly replied.
"Listen to me. . ." Selene began.
"I won't listen to you, either of you. Leave me alone." Waverly screamed and buried her face in Dermot's robes, sobbing quietly. He smelled like ground-ivy and other things he was balmed with.
Dermot slowly stretched out a placating arm toward Selene. "If i may, My Lady."
She acknowledged him briefly then threw a glance at Deusa who angrily but immediately consented.
"You may." Selene permitted.
Dermot took Waverly's face in his hand and made her look up at him. Her cheeks glistened with tears and the bright moon that hovered above him was reflected clearly in her pupils.
"You know if the circumstances were different, i'd cook you the best meal ever because it takes a really awesome person to do all of this." He began quietly.
Waverly gave a weak smile then her face fell again, tears leaking out of her eyes. "You can't convince me to let go."
"I wasn't planning to. I don't think a lot of people have met you, you're pretty stubborn." He said in a carefree tone. "But i do want to say this; i've lived for such a long time and before i came to know you, i never really thought my almost predictable lifestyle would change. But it did and i learned that just because i've been here longer doesn't mean i'm stronger or wiser. You have done so much for a person so young that it made me realize that i haven't really been living. But in the span of time that we spent together, i did all that i wanted. I lived."
Waverly rested briefly on his chest, her voice cracking. "You haven't traveled to the land of Gyspies yet."
Dermot chuckled. "I know, i know. But you can do that for me. Until today i hadn't met any gods and now two. . . are standing right here." He pulled Waverly to look at him again. "You're already an adventure. I didn't have to travel anywhere to experience all that i did when you came. So here's the deal,"
"I'm not letting go. Dermot. . . " Waverly's trembled audibly. "Please."
Dermot tightened his grip around her and rested his head on her hair. Selene and Deusa watched on in silence and so did the Soul Hunters, although they twitched at intervals as if eager to spring on their target.
"You will not be letting go at all. I'll always be there in the things you say, the thoughts you think, the places you go and even in the little silly jokes you crack with Diarmaid."
A few seconds of silence passed before Waverly looked up again. "Before you woke up, did you feel any pain?"
Dermot squinted his eyes. "Last thing i remember was walking through a very beautiful, very peaceful field and then i heard you call. When i turned around there was a door behind me. I stepped right through it and found myself here."
Waverly considered for a minute. "Did you. . . were you happy?"
"I felt peace. There wasn't any pain, any trouble or worries. I was. . . okay." Dermot replied, his tone convinced Waverly that he had indeed been as peaceful as he had looked but there was still a lot of reluctance in her.
"Do not be angry with my brother, and please don't let him go on thinking that what happened to me was his fault." He continued. There was a faraway look in his eyes. "In fact, it was mine. I manipulated his trap so it would not go off and if i had probably just let it be, he would never have gone off to check on it in the first place."
Waverly swallowed. She was not sure if Dermot was only saying things to take the weight of his death off hers and Diarmaid's chest but there was truth in his eyes and she believed him. Besides, she had never even mentioned that she was angry at Diarmaid.
Waverly looked back at Selene who gave a gentle nod. She returned her gaze to Dermot. "I don't know how i'm going to comfort him."
Dermot smiled. "You don't have to. Just. . . promise me you'll tell him that i love him."
Waverly nodded. "I promise."
He slowly began to release his arm from around her. "My hunting cloak. It belonged to my mother, i want you to have it. It's the only thing she left me with and i'm sure you will take good care of it."
Waverly nodded again but did not let go. Fresh tears began to stream down her face once more.
"Remember what i told you to do whenever you did something good?"
Waverly easily remembered. "Own up to it."
"Exactly." Dermot nodded and gently took hold of her hands. "Own up to letting me be happy and at peace forever." He placed a final kiss on Waverly's forehead. "I love you very much, brave girl." And separated her arms from around him.
Waverly stepped back and subsequently released the barrier around them. The moon vanished overhead and Deusa rushed forward to grab Dermot by the shoulder. He fell slowly and in the blink of an eye, was back in the position he had been in when Waverly first came in.
The Soul Hunters disappeared along with Deusa but Selene stayed behind. Waverly sobbed quietly as she stared at Dermot.
"I love you too." She whispered and bent down to sit on the steps of the pedestal.
Selene came forward and reached out a hand to touch Waverly. Her tone was kind and sympathetic. "Daughter. . ."
"Go away." Waverly whispered without looking at her mother and buried her face in her arms. She remained like that until she fell asleep.
When her weak eyelids managed to open again, she caught a blurry glimpse of Cassiope leaning in to peer at her face but could not hear a word that was being said. Waverly clamped her eyes shut again.
A familiar scent woke Waverly up long before her eyes could open but when they did, she realized she was back in the infirmary on the Plateaus and standing over her was a young nurse, one of the Elfins that worked with The Nurses. She was wringing water out of a neat washcloth and turned to place it on Waverly's head but jumped in fright when she realized she was being stared at.
Waverly wanted to apologise for frightening the nurse but found that she had no strength to speak up. The Elfin regained composure quickly and continued to work but gave surreptitious glances that Waverly pretended not to notice.
A few minutes later, a large tray of food was brought to her which she ate slowly. And then she was allowed to rest again. After a good sleep, Waverly woke up to wash. She was presented with a change of clothes and as the nurse handed them to her, she finally spoke.
"What time of the day is it?"
The Elfin looked outside briefly. "It is almost noon."
Waverly felt a slight wave of panic build up in her chest but the nurse gently lifted a hand and added. "The Crossing was put off until you would wake."
Waverly frowned. She had stayed long enough in Alpgeton to know all the rules; one of such being that no one, no matter how high a status they held, could put off The Crossing for a Company Soldier or any of the King's men except for the King himself. Not even Queen Daya could make such a declaration. But Waverly did not ask any further questions. She got dressed and pulled her hair back for the first time. It had grown out without her notice.
The infirmary had a small looking glass by the walkway and as she stood in front of it, she saw that no matter how much she had freshened up her eyes still gave away the fact that she had cried so much. As she thought of that, tears streamed down her face again but she quickly wiped them off. She suddenly understood in fragments how Regent had felt when Havilah died. Then, she did not cry as much partly because she had not known Havilah for as long as she did Dermot.
She wiped her face again and stepped out then halted when she saw Diarmaid standing by the doorway. He was also dressed for the Crossing in a shockingly similar robe as Dermot but his were a lovely red and void of medals. His eyes were also swollen from crying and Waverly suddenly felt guilty for ever being annoyed at him.
She heaved a sigh and walked toward him. He gave a gentle nod and spoke in a voice that was unlike his usual one. "I wanted us to go together."
Waverly nodded in agreement, suddenly remembering what she had promised Dermot. As they slowly walked out of the infirmary toward a waiting carriage, she looked at him.
"There is something i have to tell you."
Diarmaid threw a searching glance at her then lowered his gaze.
"Let us get into the carriage first."