Beyond the panelled door, the Leothine voices in the chamber rose to an angry pitch. She did not understand the words, but the passion in them was evident. She picked Theodan's voice out clearly from the rabble, deeper and more commanding than the others, and she heard it rise with indignation. Vala stood, quietly observing things unfold, unable to take her eyes from the viewing panel in the Visier's small chamber.
She had not yet tried to stand for she did not trust her legs to hold her upright, could barely feel them. Could barely feel anything beyond the lazy, deafening cadence of her heart. It could not be long now. Once Theodan revealed the true name of his slave to his council they would come. So she would sit and wait. There was no use in fighting.
She had never gained anything from fighting that which would inevitably come for her.
What would Leoth decree should happen to the Calate whore? Perhaps they would execute her. Perhaps they'd ship her back to King Torrik of Zybar. She would request the former: a merciful death owed to those of royal blood. She was certain there was a law guiding such a thing; some law which guaranteed an honourable death to those of noble birth during war. She could not recall its detail, for her head was far too chaotic and loud, but she knew it existed and so she would demand this Leoth council carry it out as Ethis had decreed.
And if they refused then she would find some other way to end things - something she should have done long before. She would take her vengeance with her to the Gods and deliver it to them instead. For all of this was their fault.
She wished that Vala had not stopped her by the platform outside. She wished harder that she had thrown herself from the Everwood cliff when she first had a mind to. Please do not leave me... please... not now when I need you so... you are the only one who can tame the darkness inside me... I do not dare think what I would become without you, Fara.
She had awoken here in this small, dusty room made of stone, feeling as though she had returned from some perilous journey. A journey to another world, a mirror world, her body reeling from the effects of the Visier's hideous magic. She felt not quite whole, her head a dense wood of impossible terrible truths, and she could only hope that the Visier's sorcery would wear off soon. And with it the memory of what she had been shown. Though, in truth, she knew that her mind would never quite be the same again.
Could it really be so? Was such a thing possible? An alternate existence: another life. A mirror life which had not been lived but could so easily have been. That was the 'The Gift' the Visier had given her, a glimpse of another life. Or rather, another death.
Galyn's death.
Not the death she had witnessed in Azura, not the death delivered at the end of Theodan's blade, but another death entirely.
A savage and treacherous death.
She recalled it now with vivid clarity, as though she had witnessed it too with her own eyes six moons ago. The colours just as vibrant and the sounds equally as sharp as they had been in the throne room.
Galyn had married Dura of Zybar, his betrothal fulfilled, his promise to her kept. Fara, through the eyes of the Visier, had witnessed his vow made before Sylvan, Arielle, and King Torrik to the red-cloaked Zybarian princess. She had witnessed a grand wedding banquet under a large tent, not unlike the one the king had occupied in the war camp of Azura.
An array of seamless images showed dancing and joyous celebration, and finally, in the confines of their quarters, Dura of Zybar writhing in pleasure beneath Galyn of Azura upon the Azurian marital silk. Galyn groaning with each thrust of his body into hers. Dura gasping in pleasure with each movement of his muscular body. The naked forms of two young lovers tasting each other's wonders for the first time.
Fara had not felt envy at the sight. Only the deep kindling of need in the depths of her blood. Galyn made love as he always did; with abandon and passion, his golden skin drenched by attentive ministrations and love of the female form. Then, as he raised himself upright above her and prepared to empty himself inside his new bride, the blade of the Zybar sword tore through his sweat-slicked chest.
She wondered if the sound of Dura of Zybar's screaming would ever leave her. The look of sheer terror in her eyes. Galyn's mouth a ghastly 'O' as his lifeblood poured from him onto the trembling body of his other wife.
How dreadfully Dura had screamed.
How great her horror and pain had been. Dura of Zybar had loved Galyn. Fara had seen it in her brown oval eyes as she spoke her promise to him. As Galyn had removed her red veil. As he had kissed her chastely on her lips.
Had Fara screamed when Theodan's blade entered Galyn's body? She could not recall. How strange that she could not recall such a moment.
Had Galyn married the princess of Zybar his death would not have been one of honour in battle as he fought for the lives of his people. It would have been one of deceit and slaughter. His life stolen from him on the night of his own wedding.
Zybar had never truly desired a union with Azura. They wanted its riches and its lands, and it would sacrifice the innocence and heart of its first daughter to get them. The war between Zybar and Azura was as certain as the stars themselves.
At first, she had not understood how the Visier could consider such a thing a 'gift'. How bearing witness to Galyn's death not once, but twice, could be anything but the cruellest form of punishment. And yet as her mind's eye had slowly returned to her own body, flooding it with all the homecoming warmth of an Azurian sun, she finally understood the gift the Visier had given her.
Release.
Release from blame. Release from Guilt. Release from the idea that she alone had signed Galyn's death warrant. That her actions had sent him to the Gods. For long before she had spoken the mage's promise into Galyn's eyes, long before she had commanded a green-eyed witch to curse an aviam bracelet in dark magic, long before Valdr had sliced open her wrist for the first time, Galyn's death had been foretold.
Fara alone had not killed him. Fara had merely diverted his path towards another end - perhaps even a more noble end. But it was the Gods that had long ago decreed that the last Prince of Azura would die.
Pressing her fingers to her temples in an attempt to ease the crushing weight within, she tried to push the vision from her thoughts once more. How did the Visier live with such a thing? To bear witness to all - not only that which had come to pass but that which would not. Had not.
How did Theodan? He said the Visier's skill was more powerful than his own, but still, to possess the sight of any kind was a horrible notion. A gift it is not...
Pulling Fara's thoughts back to the small antechamber, Vala made a sudden hissing sound.
'What's happening?' Fara asked her, croakily. 'Have they given a verdict?' she tried to focus on the tall Leoth and ignore the persistent image of Galyn's blood, of Dura's shriek of horror.
Vala spat a word in Leoth, aimed at the court, not Fara. Velius
'I don't know what that means...' Fara sighed.
'Turning, Vala gave Fara an irritated look. 'It means Brother. I will never forgive him for this.'
'Brother...?' Fara blinked. 'Your brother is on Theodan's jury?' A flare of hope lit inside her.
'Worse. He is the Isdar.' When Vala saw that Fara did not know the meaning of this either, she rolled her eyes. 'The principal of the Court of the Moon; the supreme authority. And since he hates Theodan with fervour, perhaps even more than that snake Paeris does, this will not end well.' Vala began to pace slightly in the small room, knotting her hands together anxiously. Turning back to the viewing panel she shook her head. 'Neither will let him leave this court unscathed. I know it.'
'Why does your brother hate Theodan?'
Vala made a sniffing noise. 'How would your brother feel about a male he believes has dishonoured you since you were of an age to be dishonoured?'
Valdr's image swam to the forefront of Fara's mind, his eyes dark and unforgiving like they were the last time she saw them. A sliver of something both hot and cold sweeping down her spine, shame meeting fear halfway.
'Unkindly, I suspect.' Fara managed to keep her voice devoid of feeling.
'He would hate him as Orrin hates Theodan,'Vala replied confidently, quite as though she knew him. Quite as though she could easily fathom the workings of Valdr's mind. Fara's wrists and thighs burned as she was flooded with a sea of memories which were turbulent, violent and dark.
'You're wrong,' Fara said, distantly. 'My brother hates everyone with equal vehemence. Even himself. There has never been anything but hate and jealousy inside of Valdr, even as a child.' She closed her eyes and sought him out in the dark. In the shadows. Waiting. She was never truly alone. Would never be truly alone.
She supposed it was her fault he had become what he had. The day he drank from her wrist had changed him irrevocably. His mind reaching a point of darkness that she could never hope to conquer. Smothering, perverse, darkness. It had spread like disease; quickly and without cure, turning every part of him black and rotten. Poison. Her poison.
'You speak quite as though you hate him?' Vala's voice dragged her from the shadows. She was watching Fara now, closely, curiously.
Fara met her stare. 'I do.'
Vala blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback by the bitterness in her tone. 'Nevertheless... he must care very deeply for you.'
'He cares for nothing but himself,' Fara snapped. 'For his own power. His own legacy, his own destiny.' She laughed emptily. 'A destiny he has carved from fantasy and false prophecy.'
Perhaps somewhere inside he had convinced himself that he loved her. But it was not love. That could never be love.
Vala's eyebrows rose. 'Yet, he cares enough to risk his realm for you? To take his men to war for you?' Her tone was almost accusatory.
Fara stifled a bitter laugh. 'Oh, how wrong you are. He left Azura to burn. He refused to come to our aid even though I begged it of him.' Rage and bitterness rose in her throat at the memory of her own weakness. 'I wrote to him and begged him to help us - and he did nothing. He let us die.' She had known he would see Azura turn to ash before he'd lift a finger to help Galyn but she had sent the letter anyway.
'Then his mind has been changed,' said Vala soberly.
'It is too late. Azura is gone...'
'He does not fight for Azura, princess.'
Fara blinked, confused. 'Then what is left?'
'What is always left,' said Vala. 'Vengeance.'
'I don't understand? My brother cared nothing for Azura or its people.'
An odd look flitted across Vala's face, before the familiar mask of cool detachment slipped once more over her beautiful leothine features.
'Your brother received word of your death at the hand of a Leoth Commander - word that you were slain along with your husband and his mother when the palace was taken. The king of Calate believes you dead.'
It should be strange to hear of one's own death, she thought. And yet she felt nothing. Empty. A great echoing chamber. She wondered whether Valdr had wept for her. She imagined him hearing the news with silence. Then she imagined him ordering Daphine from his bed so he could be alone. She imagined him sending for the Daktari for a draft in order to feel nothing. Though she supposed he must have felt something if he had decided upon war.
What manner of pain had he felt as the words were read aloud to him?
'The princess Fara is dead, majesty. Slain savagely by the Leothine Army. The realm mourns for its first daughter, but also it mourns with you on this the passing of your most beloved sister.' Ravol, dressed in his ceremonial robes, would be pompous with an air of mournful subject, while inside marvelling that fate would be so generous to him.
'Is it known whether queen Arielle is alive also?' Fara asked finally. Please, Goddess, let her live too.
'Who is to say?' Vala shrugged. Given the fact that you sit alive before me now, I am inclined to believe that the information given to your brother to be false.' Then, her voice turning hot with passion. 'But if she is gone to the Gods, then Theodan bears no blame for it - regardless of what this Calate declaration claims.'
Fara nodded. 'Theodan did not kill the queen; Arielle was alive when we left the camp.' Barely. She pictured Arielle's bruised body, the once poised and elegant woman reduced to nothing more than a Zybar plaything. Zybar would pay for what they had done to Azura and its people, she would make sure of it. Her hands curled into small fists.
'So, now Leoth and Calate kill each other?' Fara asked, shaking her head, hopelessly. More death and destruction. And for what? Was this truly the Gods divine will?
'You think much of your brother's forces,' Vala replied. 'Our army cannot be bested in battle - it is known.' Vala's tone was confident, assured. 'Theodan is the greatest commander the four realms has ever seen, and he has trained our men well. Calate will fall.'
Yes. She was right. Calate would fall. Razed to the ground just like Azura. The horror of being caught amidst the screams and the panic took hold of her suddenly. Crying children. Women screaming. Faces of men filled with panic and fear. Beatings and blood. Cursing commands of soldiers in languages they did not understand. She could not let it happen again. And what would be left of Ethis after Calate was crushed? Zybar & Leoth? These monsters picking over the bones of the fallen. How would any of this lead to Theodan's and the Visier's claims of a unified Ethis? It made no sense. Fara's head pounded harder. It felt soft, pummelled. One thing was clear. No more souls would die in her name as long as she lived. She would do all in her power to prevent it.
Which meant she would have to return home. To Calate. To Valdr. When he saw that she lived still he would have no need to fight this war. She closed her eyes and let out a deep decisive breath. The ice starting to move slowly through her veins. Her fingertips first. Up to her throat. Under the collar around her neck. Sneaking into her blood like an old foe, spreading through her veins like branches of a long-dead tree. The shiver continued to whisper across her skin, the tone of it cruel and familiar.
***
Her breath burned in her throat as she ran. Fast as her legs would carry her. Silk embroidered slippers did not aid her progress across the uneven grass. His stride was more assured; a quick purposeful run powered by strong muscular legs. He was not a soldier like Panos, but he trained as though he were. Several times she thought she felt his touch on her skirts, her hair, her fingertips, his harsh whisper against her ear. But it was her mind playing tricks on her.
Darting left, she spun around to press her back against the rough bark of a large sarrow tree and listened hard. The wood was almost silent now, nought but the sound of bird chatter high above. The sunlight streamed through the openings in the trees, drenching the green all around her in streaks of bright gold. She had loved this wood as a child. It held no magic for her now. Only darkness. A rustle of sound behind her. She held her breath.
'Have not you learned that I will always find you, sister mine?' His voice was a whisper against her skin before she felt his hands upon her neck. 'In this world or the next...' close to her ear now.
She broke off into a run again, the sound of fabric tearing left behind her as a piece of her dress came away in his grip. Lifting up her skirts, she forced herself to run faster. Her throat burned hotter, the white spots sparking in her vision from the effort as she pushed herself as fast as she was able. On she ran. She could see the edge of the Everwood up ahead.
Clearing the trees, she stumbled slightly over a small bump of rock hidden snuggly in the long grass. As she righted herself and brought her head up she looked back over her shoulder and saw that though he was not far, he was not running after her. He moved slowly, his eyes bright with anticipation. Playful but impatient. He did not breathe as heavily as she did, nor did he look as fatigued. It looked quite as though he had gone for a stroll here in the Everwood. She turned her body around to face him fully, and walked slowly backwards, holding his stare as she did. She saw the look of panic before he called out.
'Fara stop! Don't go any further! 'Tis not funny!'
Breathing hard, she whipped around just in time to see the drop arrive a short way away from her slippered feet. She forced her weight backwards, to avoid breaching the mouth of the verge. When she edged a little closer towards the cliff edge, he shot forward, alarm widening his eyes.
'Do not take another step, Valdr,' she shook her head, warning him. 'Stay where you are or I shall do it, I swear it.' She took another small step backwards, a warning, and he stopped moving immediately, his hands raised in supplication.
'Fara, come back from there!' he snapped, anger bleeding into his eyes now. 'Step back from the edge, I command it.'
Exposed as she was, the wind picked up around her, the lengths of her skirt and her hair whipping violently against her body. How easy it would be, she thought. To close her eyes and take one more step. Just one. To be free. Her body burned to ash as Cassi's had been. Her name etched upon the stone monument in the sacrarium as Cassi's had been. Her soul free as Cassi's was. She looked from him to the drop and then back again. Decide, you weak thing. He was moving toward her again, tiny slow steps, his hands out and his eyes soft as though she were a wilful colt.
'Stay. Where. You. Are.' She hissed. He stopped moving once more, his eyes darkening with their familiar fury. He looked beyond her out into the sapphire valley below, he shook his head.
'You would not,' he said, quietly. 'Not like this. Your body would be destroyed, horribly. Your face battered beyond all recognition. It would be grotesque, Fara,' he chided. 'How could you do such a thing to father? How could the people mourn a sack of broken bones and ruined flesh?' His tone was quite conversational now. As though he were discussing which tunic he would wear that day, which Azurian wine he would have with his supper. 'Tis hardly a death fit for a princess of Calate.'
'It is preferable to the one afforded our sister.'
A shadow flitted across his eyes, but when he blinked, it was gone almost as quickly as it appeared.
'Is it?' he asked, taking a half step closer. 'Fara, I think you underestimate the pain. It would be like nothing you have experienced. T'would be like a ripe fruit being dropped from the castle walls.'
'You would do well not to underestimate my tolerance for pain, Valdr. For I am well versed in it.' She replied pointedly.
He nodded, gracious. 'I would not dream of it. You are a force to be reckoned with, sister. The whores of Davelmond are far less impressive than you, my love.'
'I have warned you not speak to me of love, brother. For you know nothing of it!' She snapped.
He looked angry and hurt. 'I love you more than you could ever comprehend.'
'You think this is love?!' She pulled up the sleeves of her gown to show the scars that marked her wrists. She felt the burn of the same between her thighs. She thought longingly of only the release she felt as the blood poured from her.
'Then what is it, Fara? For no one controls my heart and soul as you do.' He took a small step closer, her heart hammering louder in her ears as he did. 'The Gods did not think upon such a thing as perverse.. not in the beginning...'
She shook her head, the tears slipping from her eyes. 'We are not Gods Valdr...'
'I will be a King!' He roared, his voice dark with anger once more. His eyes shimmered with unshed tears of white fury. 'And what is a king if not a God amongst men?! Kings answer to no one. As Gods answer to no one. And when I am crowned I shall do whatever I Please. Shall love whomever I please.' He sounded like a petulant child.
'And when you are king what shall I be?' She knew his answer before he gave it.
'A Queen.'
'So you would have my name scorned and shamed and reviled throughout the four realms?! That would be your plan for me? My brother, who loves me so?'
'I would slaughter any who dared insult you in word or in deed.'
'You cannot kill every soul in Ethis, Valdr,' she sighed, hopelessness flooding her. 'When you are king you must marry for the good of the realm, and I must marry Lord Dacian as father has decreed.
'I will not stand by and watch you become another man's whore!'
'Why? Because I am to be yours alone?' She sniffed, wiping at her tears with the cuff of her gown.
'That is not what you are to me.' His voice grew tender. 'I am to be king, Fara. A King. You would really leave me to face such a task alone? You would leave me here, alone?' His voice was that of a boy now. Scared and alone. Her heart pinched tightly and she felt herself soften as she so often did.
'I will help you rule, Valdr. I will advise you, I will counsel you, I will support you as my king and as my brother. But I will do so as Lord Dacian's wife. This,' she motioned between them. '...this will end here.'
The speed with which his face changed stunned her. 'And I swear to the Gods I will see him killed if you ever dare to speak his name in my presence again.' He spat.
She flinched back from the darkness in his eyes, her body filling with a familiar kind of despair and fear. She would never be free of him. Never. Not here. She turned to look out over the Sapphire valley below once more. A few steps and it would be over. Done. Free.
'Fara, please...' he said after a moment, his voice soft once more. She turned to face him. 'You are the only one who can tame the darkness inside me,' he shoved his hands into the lengths of his hair and pulled, distressed. 'Please do not leave me... please... not now when I need you so. I will try harder, defer father until the gala, and I will try to be the male you need me to be. I will even choose a woman if you desire it but you must stay with me, Fara. I cannot do this without you...' He began to sob then. Gone was the sickness and cruelty he so easily displayed. Now, before her, was the broken, vulnerable Valdr who tore at her resolve and made her ache from guilt. The Valdr who squeezed her heart so tightly she thought it might turn to ash in his hold.
It was in these moments she was most uncertain of her feelings; whether she loved him more than any other soul on Ethis, or despised him so much her body might be crushed from the force of it.
Tentatively, she took a step away from the edge toward him, towards his open and waiting embrace.
He looked up, his eyes rounding with love and gratitude before the familiar gleam of triumph turned them from palest grey to palest blue. The face of a dark God smiled back at her and she marvelled at his beauty. Such tainted, cruel beauty.
'My love...' he whispered, absolved, as he pulled her into his arms. Her body hardened to stone as it always did. 'You cannot leave me. I do not dare think what I would become if I lost you.. if someone were to take you from me... if you were no longer upon this earth to tether me.' He pressed his lips to her cheek as the tears slipped down her face and the wind lashed violently around them.
She would find another way. Somehow she must find another way.