Iftia: Lyx Palace, Rowan's Bedchamber
• Rowan •
He no longer doubted her decision.
As he brought his orb close to her, he saw how her brows knit together tightly and her jaw tightened into a hard line as sweat droplets dotted her forehead. She kept her eyes open but he knew that she was fighting hard with all the voices in her head that screamed at her to possess him in total. Moving her hand slowly, she did the same and he felt claws gouging forcefully from within, the shriek at the back of his head grew even more piercing as her gift was brought right in front of his eyes.
"It will be intense and uncomfortable, but please accept me willingly," he spoke in a pleading voice.
"I hope you would too," she whispered in a hushed tone, almost as though she was praying.
They looked towards one another and chanted in magic before commanding in unison, "Ut alterum dimidium animae meae."
(Translate: For the other half of my soul.)
Their orbs burst into dust, flecking through the air and interwoven together with incandescence and cosmic magnificence. He watched as she smiled at him and closed her eyes. Rays of white beamed towards her and he followed suit in closing his eyes, focusing his mental energy in guiding her into his soul.
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• Elianna •
Rowan's gift pulsed within her and when she opened her eyes again, it was daylight. She was lost in the vast expanse of pure white snow. The air was cold and crisp but not harsh. Paced wind brushed against her skin like a gentle caress and the sun that hung above basked her in its light, wrapping her in a warm embrace.
"Rowan," a female voice sounded, calling Rowan in a way ever so tenderly. Elianna turned around a saw a woman with a loving demeanour that reminded her so much of her mother. That lady smiled fondly, opening her arms to welcome a little boy into her hold. He chuckled adorably and nuzzled his small head in the crook of her neck. Lifting him up into the air, she twirled him around. Gold ornaments on her dress jingled melodiously and her luscious dark hair contrasted so beautifully against the sea of white surrounding them.
She stood at a distance watching them, knowing that she's currently inside Rowan's memory.
A sudden gush of strong wind forced her eyes closed and she instinctively raised her arms to shield over her eyes while trying her hardest to peel the lids open. When the wind ceased, a new scene had formed. The snow-filled ground was now replaced by expensive furniture that donned the elaborated bedchamber. She peered forward, witnessing the same little boy who was laughing so joyously a moment ago to lay in his bed, struggling through his pain at this instance. Her heart clenched painfully as she stepped closer to the crowd of medical officials that surrounded him. Yet, none of them panicked as she did. Instead, they were simply noting down observations like he was their living experimentation subject. She waited for the crowd to disappear before she knelt down by the bedside, holding onto his small hands while she buried her face in her arm and cried.
The small hand in her palm vanished without a single trace of warmth left. Her head shot up and the earthy scent of mud and wet leaves wafted into her nose. She saw the boy again. He had definitely grown a lot taller but still boyish. She followed him, crouching low as though trying to wait for a prey to pounce on. Then, she realised that is the replay of their first meeting in Heather Palace. Her face flushed red with embarrassment when he saw him hiding behind a tree as he repeated her name, tasting it on his lips with a satisfied smile that he got to know her name. The amount of intimacy when observing someone else's memory was something she definitely hadn't expected.
Lost in her thought, she didn't realise that her surroundings had changed. A sudden scream snapped her back into attention immediately. "Rowan! Run!"
She spun around and saw the woman whom she assumed to be Rowan's mother, lying on the ground. Her hand clutched tightly against her abdomen but blood gushed from the spaces in between her fingers. Her startling blue eyes widened in fear and panic as she screamed for Rowan to run. He froze, with his knees on the ground and his palm soaked in the pool of blood. She pulled on his shoulder, wanting to remove him from his paralysed state but the sword that pierced into his mother's back and came through her abdomen stopped her entirely with the horror she was witnessing. The sickening sound of flesh tearing was accompanied by a series of villainous cackles. Amidst all the grisly chaos, her eyes spotted a young girl lying face down beside his mother's body. She stepped forward, wanting to turn her over but a soft and pained whisper sounded.
Eli, don't touch her, please.
She halted immediately, respecting that she should only be an observer of his memory. She stepped away and the scene changed in split seconds. This time, darkness surrounded her. The ground was wet and hard with sharp stones that scraped the soles of her bare feet as she walked through the dimly lit path. The air reeked of blood but she continued until she reached a cell.
"P-Please have mercy!" The group of men begged while Rowan stepped into view. He looked not any older than sixteen. But his eyes were dead cold and void of any emotions that possessed any semblance of an adolescent. He raised his hand and closed it into a fist in a slow, torturous manner, raising the air pressure with each passing second. Reflexively, Elianna wrapped her fingers around her neck, desperately gasping for air while she looked at those men bleed from all corners of their faces. They died in an instant after a loud crack that snapped their necks. All pressure ceased in an instant and she once again found air in her lungs. Rowan walked all over those bodies as he spoke coldly to Ilias, "Don't let anyone who is involved in that get away. Use whatever means, I must kill every single one of them." He exited the cell, and she moved aside to let him pass. It all happened fast, but she caught a tear that had fallen from the corner of his eye.
He walked away from the cell and marched into the dark with an immense amount of loneliness and responsibility that weighed heavily on those thin shoulders. Following his departure, she realised that she was back into her house in the mountain. Memories of them flashed through, and as she watched, everything felt warm and filled with light.
Come back to me, love.
His voice guided her out of his memory trail. When she opened her eyes, she was once again facing him.
He smiled sadly at her, "Thank you for accepting me." He slowly closed his eyes and darkness misted through the air and seeped into him. She sealed her eyelids, focusing on her turn to guide him into her soul.
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• Rowan •
At first sight, he found himself standing in the middle of an empty and dusty hallway. A young child sped through his side shouting excitedly, "Lylia!" Following the direction where she ran, he found a lady in a maidservant uniform turning around. She laughed lovingly at the child hugging her legs and asked, "Princess Elianna, what are you so excited about?"
The girl giggled as her eyes looked towards his back. From those pair of amber eyes, he knew that he's looking into her memories. Allowing her to lead his gaze, he noticed that he stood in the middle of the woods. His long legs trudged through a few bushes and saw the little girl wielding onto a sword that seemed a lot heavier than her. Her movements were clumsy but she gave in her best to follow her mentor's instructions with great diligence. Taking a closer look, Rowan immediately recognised the man beside her to be Jason Wayland. Genius of Thethia, who wouldn't know?
At the unexpected moment, Thunder appeared out of a sudden and ran in his direction. He jumped aside to dodge and the sudden movement drifted him into a memory reflecting the hallway of Thethia's Royal Palace. The little girl held onto Lylia's hand as they marched down the white marbled alley. The nervousness in her expression had caused him to act on impulse as his hand moved on its own to hold onto the other of the girl's hand. He walked down the hall with her before the stopped at a large door to greet a lady named Marie.
Marie helped to push the door open and it revealed the King of Thethia, Wynston, and a lady whom he assumed to be the former Queen of Thethia, Nadia. All happenings in the Queen's bedchambers had whizzed through and eventually, the little girl found her way into her mother's arms. Tears were shed, but he knew in absolute that those were filled with happiness and relief.
Then, little Elianna walked towards him and her eyes widened with fear. He sidestepped and looked in the direction of her gaze. They were once again sent back to the dusty hallway, but this time, Temple Keepers surrounded them. Lylia was held in midair before she was thrown off to the nearest pillar. Her body hit the ground in a loud thud and went lifeless. "Hold her down," an unfamiliar voice sounded and the Temple Keepers marched towards them. Grabbing the girl by all her limbs, they locked her down on the ground before pushing knives into her wrists. Crimson poured, staining the knives and her wrists in a shade of cruelty. Not sure how long had passed when they finally released her and exited through the large door with her blood. Yet, those bastards left the girl on the ground, helpless and scared. Anger burned within him, as he couldn't rationalise the reason such brutality against a powerless child.
A sudden light shone that forced his eyes shut. The next moment, he saw the girl sitting in front of her mother. "Eli, close your eyes," the Queen murmured. Elianna did as she was told and he watched the Queen raising the dagger and pierced it through her chest. Her mark of resurrection. He recalled and the room around him faded into darkness. He was stuck in the vacuum of space for a short while before the humid scent of the earth rushed into his nose and cold wind brushed harshly against his skin. He took a step forward and found himself in the woods. The little girl cried painfully while clutching her small hands tightly onto a panther. Her dress was soaked in blood from the dagger through her chest. Yet, the rawness of her pain stemmed from the traumatic event that she was brought through rather than from her already non-existent wound. Rowan walked close to her and picked her up, hugging her close. Her hands bunched onto the material of his shirt in the same way his heart had squeezed in his chest.
When she stopped sobbing, she turned and pointed in a direction. "Let's go," she said, pushing herself off him and she landed on the ground with a smooth front roll. He sprinted through the woods with her and Thunder to a town square where the whole place was suddenly set ablaze. The expression on her face was marred with desperation and horror as she watched the people she loved burned on stakes in front of her. They smiled at her before she turned around and sped off.
Memories of her growing up rushed with the winds, giddying him. At a point, he came to a stop and they were found in an extravagantly decorated manor. Elianna looked like she was only fourteen now and she stood in front of the door with Thunder beside her. Curiosity rose from within, wondering what was beyond the door because time had frozen at this moment, the memory seemed to be purposely suppressed. A nervous murmur sounded in his ears.
Rowan, don't.
His hand retracted immediately and he turned around and stepped away from the door respectfully. Time resumed as Elianna and Thunder ran forward. He continued to sprint through the trail of her memories. There were many of those that were familiar to him because those were moments they had shared. Yet, some parts were muffled and out of reach but he had decided not to probe further than what he had done. As they reached the end, her soft voice sounded in his ears again.
Please come back to me.
Using her voice as an anchor, he left the tunnel of her memories. Her amber-eyes fixed on him, observing him and a faint smile raised from the corners of her lips. She breathed quietly, "Thank you for accepting me too."
A starburst of magic dust divided themselves and hovered in front of their chests. White specks and dark mists danced with synchronicity, contrasting each other in an unparagoned yet wordlessly beautiful manner. Their hands hovered above their orbs and pushed them back into where their heart lies. Holding out their palms, they interlocked their fingers together. A firm, everlasting vow was made by both.
"Ne quidem mors nos separabit."
(Translate: Not even death can separate us.)
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someone has freed the cat out of the bag.