Chapter 2
In the beginning, Kyren had been a naïve fool, his heart broken by the death of his half-blood daughter. Magdalen had appeared out of nowhere to woo him, and he had pretended that her attentions were innocent even as he knew they were not.
So she had caught him in her snare, and drawn him in little by little, until he knew neither left nor right; up nor down. She showed him things--made him do terrible tasks that a stronger elf would have refused.
She had used his royal blood--weak though it was--to move into the castle and he had not protested. It was almost as if he couldn't protest, at least not anymore. She had taken every ounce of courage away from him and left him a shell of his former self. She had used that damned dog of hers--that black Hound--as a weapon, silencing her detractors. She had--
She had--
"You've not left your rooms in weeks, Kyren," his cousin Amalea was saying through the door. "Are you ill?"
Kyren winced away from her voice. "No. I'm fine."
Could she hear the lie in his voice?
Three weeks ago, Magdalen had showed him--his mind reeled away from what lay behind her mirror in a secret room that no one else would ever find.
"Your royal relatives wish me gone from here," she had said, trailing her sharp nails down the side of his face. "If they succeed in driving me out, I want you to do something for me."
To escape from her attentions, he had agreed. And she had opened the mirror, and--
"Kyren, open the door!" Amalea rattled the doorknob, but he had both locked and barred the door. It didn't budge.
Kyren wiped one hand across his face and lurched away from the door. Perhaps if he did not reply to her questions, she would go away, and he could continue to try to drown his sins in wine.
They had succeeded, two days ago. Amalea had slipped a note under his door. Magdalen was gone from the castle. Banished, along with her Hounds. Those who had dealings with her would be punished. The few in her inner circle--
Kyren shuddered and stared at the empty bottle on his desk. He had not intended to run out of wine.
"Kyren!"
He could not react quickly enough when she pushed past his wards and appeared in the middle of the room. The wine had dulled his reflexes. And Amalea had always been more powerful anyway.
Without speaking, he pushed past her into the other room, stumbling a little as he reached for his sword. He realized, then, that he was not thinking straight at all, that Magdalen's little present behind the mirror had unhinged his mind.
"Kyren!" Amalea followed him--of course she followed him. He turned in the darkness of the room and held out his sword.
"Leave me be."
"No." She made no move to approach him. "I know what you're thinking, but--"
"You know nothing!" He shouted the words and staggered back against the wall. The sword clattered to the ground. Kyren slid down the wall and sat on the floor. It was either that or collapse, and he did not want to collapse in front of Amalea. "You know nothing."
"I know that you were taken advantage of and misled," Amalea said. "I know that Magdalen used you and your position in the royal family to get inside this castle. I know that she tried to kill me two days ago."
Kyren stared at her. "She--She tried to kill you?" For a moment, clarity returned to his mind. "Why?"
"Because I was protecting you," Amalea said. "I've had your rooms warded for almost three weeks. And she couldn't get past my wards."
"I--I don't know what to say," Kyren whispered. "I don't deserve your protection, Cousin. Perhaps you should have let her in." He shivered violently. "I am no innocent."
"I know you aren't," Amalea said. "You were in the thick of things for a while from what we've been able to discover. But I believe--and I've argued this for two days now--that you can be redeemed."
Somehow, her words did not reassure Kyren at all. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. "Have you searched her rooms yet?" He didn't want to ask, for fear that she would become suspicious of his interest. But he had to know. If the room behind the mirror was still intact--
Then what? What would he do, leave the poor-- He shivered again.
"We have started searching her rooms," Amalea said. "She left behind a vast array of traps for us, of course. And we've had no luck finding where she fled."
Kyren opened his eyes. "I don't know!"
Amalea stared at him quizzically. "I never said you knew. But she is banished from the castle, Kyren. She's gone."
Kyren's scowled. "Yes. And so if I never leave the castle again, I will most definitely live."
"What did she show you three weeks ago that has you so frightened?" Amalea asked.
Had she read his mind? "What makes you think she showed me--"
Now it was Amalea's turn to scowl. "Kyren, I'm trying to help you. But in order for me to do that, you have to help me a little. I've no wish to see you dead or banished. You've suffered enough."
Kyren laughed a little wildly. "No I haven't, Cousin. Oh, no I haven't." And then, quite suddenly, he felt hot tears running down both cheeks. "Ten years ago--" Ten years ago, on Magdalen's order, he had done something simple, something that had seemed innocent--at least at first.
He shook his head, struggling not to dredge up the old memories. "Do you have any wine?"
"I don't think you need any more wine," Amalea grumbled, but she produced a bottle nonetheless, and poured him a small glass.
His hand shook when she handed him the glass. And he drank it, but it didn't help.
"Tell me," Amalea said, her voice soft. "Please, Kyren. Whatever this is--whatever you did--it's eating you alive. You were once my favorite Cousin. Now you are a ghost to me."
Kyren held out the glass. "More. Please. This is unbearable enough without it."
Amalea handed him the bottle. "Tell me."
Her offering wasn't the same vintage of the bottles he had drunk, nor was it of the same quality. But it burned as it went down his throat, a sure sign that it was working.
"Can I trust you, Cousin?"
"Dare you not?" Amalea asked. "I'm probably the only person you can trust at the moment. I'm still willing to believe you. The others might not be so kind."
"She has spies in the castle," Kyren whispered. "Spies. If she discovers that I've told you, she will find a way to kill me."
"She wanted to kill you before," Amalea said calmly. "She failed. I will not let you die."
"But can I trust you?" He was weeping now, openly, the tears trickling down his cheeks and tasting of wine.
"You could truthspell me and find that I have not been assimilated by the person you are so afraid of," Amalea said, quite seriously. "And I give you leave to do so, if you are that far gone."
"And if I do, and you are bluffing--" Kyren couldn't help himself now. It was almost as if her words had loosened some dam inside of his mind. Perhaps that had been her intention. "Cousin, you say you've not been--assimilated. But I have. Oh, I have."
"Then tell me," Amalea urged, her gaze intense. "Tell me. Please, Kyren."
It was little enough that she cared. Kyren's throat was so dry that he had to swallow twice to speak. "Perhaps--Perhaps I should show you, then, Cousin. Although I daresay she left traps for me, as well."
"Show me?" For the first time, Amalea looked uncertain. "Show me what?"
"This may mean my death," Kyren said, standing so fast that he almost fell. He did not dare look at her. "But at least I can die with a clean conscience." When he turned away, Amalea caught his hand.
"Kyren, please." She gasped a little at his touch. "You're freezing cold!"
He shook her off and took a few steps, but not before he realized that he would never make it to the door. He swayed, alarmed now, struggling to push past an almost overwhelming urge to succumb to the darkness that now swirled at the edges of his vision.
"When was the last time you ate a meal?" Amalea asked, her voice calm, but the expression on her face worried.
Kyren tried to answer her, but he couldn't find enough strength to speak. It wasn't a spell, this numbness, just simple exhaustion. The effect of living in terror for far too long.
She slid a chair under him as he collapsed. "This has gone on long enough! Kyren, what is wrong with you?"
"I'm lost," he whispered, and gave himself up to darkness.
Next update: July 13th
So she had caught him in her snare, and drawn him in little by little, until he knew neither left nor right; up nor down. She showed him things--made him do terrible tasks that a stronger elf would have refused.
She had used his royal blood--weak though it was--to move into the castle and he had not protested. It was almost as if he couldn't protest, at least not anymore. She had taken every ounce of courage away from him and left him a shell of his former self. She had used that damned dog of hers--that black Hound--as a weapon, silencing her detractors. She had--
She had--
"You've not left your rooms in weeks, Kyren," his cousin Amalea was saying through the door. "Are you ill?"
Kyren winced away from her voice. "No. I'm fine."
Could she hear the lie in his voice?
Three weeks ago, Magdalen had showed him--his mind reeled away from what lay behind her mirror in a secret room that no one else would ever find.
"Your royal relatives wish me gone from here," she had said, trailing her sharp nails down the side of his face. "If they succeed in driving me out, I want you to do something for me."
To escape from her attentions, he had agreed. And she had opened the mirror, and--
"Kyren, open the door!" Amalea rattled the doorknob, but he had both locked and barred the door. It didn't budge.
Kyren wiped one hand across his face and lurched away from the door. Perhaps if he did not reply to her questions, she would go away, and he could continue to try to drown his sins in wine.
They had succeeded, two days ago. Amalea had slipped a note under his door. Magdalen was gone from the castle. Banished, along with her Hounds. Those who had dealings with her would be punished. The few in her inner circle--
Kyren shuddered and stared at the empty bottle on his desk. He had not intended to run out of wine.
"Kyren!"
He could not react quickly enough when she pushed past his wards and appeared in the middle of the room. The wine had dulled his reflexes. And Amalea had always been more powerful anyway.
Without speaking, he pushed past her into the other room, stumbling a little as he reached for his sword. He realized, then, that he was not thinking straight at all, that Magdalen's little present behind the mirror had unhinged his mind.
"Kyren!" Amalea followed him--of course she followed him. He turned in the darkness of the room and held out his sword.
"Leave me be."
"No." She made no move to approach him. "I know what you're thinking, but--"
"You know nothing!" He shouted the words and staggered back against the wall. The sword clattered to the ground. Kyren slid down the wall and sat on the floor. It was either that or collapse, and he did not want to collapse in front of Amalea. "You know nothing."
"I know that you were taken advantage of and misled," Amalea said. "I know that Magdalen used you and your position in the royal family to get inside this castle. I know that she tried to kill me two days ago."
Kyren stared at her. "She--She tried to kill you?" For a moment, clarity returned to his mind. "Why?"
"Because I was protecting you," Amalea said. "I've had your rooms warded for almost three weeks. And she couldn't get past my wards."
"I--I don't know what to say," Kyren whispered. "I don't deserve your protection, Cousin. Perhaps you should have let her in." He shivered violently. "I am no innocent."
"I know you aren't," Amalea said. "You were in the thick of things for a while from what we've been able to discover. But I believe--and I've argued this for two days now--that you can be redeemed."
Somehow, her words did not reassure Kyren at all. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. "Have you searched her rooms yet?" He didn't want to ask, for fear that she would become suspicious of his interest. But he had to know. If the room behind the mirror was still intact--
Then what? What would he do, leave the poor-- He shivered again.
"We have started searching her rooms," Amalea said. "She left behind a vast array of traps for us, of course. And we've had no luck finding where she fled."
Kyren opened his eyes. "I don't know!"
Amalea stared at him quizzically. "I never said you knew. But she is banished from the castle, Kyren. She's gone."
Kyren's scowled. "Yes. And so if I never leave the castle again, I will most definitely live."
"What did she show you three weeks ago that has you so frightened?" Amalea asked.
Had she read his mind? "What makes you think she showed me--"
Now it was Amalea's turn to scowl. "Kyren, I'm trying to help you. But in order for me to do that, you have to help me a little. I've no wish to see you dead or banished. You've suffered enough."
Kyren laughed a little wildly. "No I haven't, Cousin. Oh, no I haven't." And then, quite suddenly, he felt hot tears running down both cheeks. "Ten years ago--" Ten years ago, on Magdalen's order, he had done something simple, something that had seemed innocent--at least at first.
He shook his head, struggling not to dredge up the old memories. "Do you have any wine?"
"I don't think you need any more wine," Amalea grumbled, but she produced a bottle nonetheless, and poured him a small glass.
His hand shook when she handed him the glass. And he drank it, but it didn't help.
"Tell me," Amalea said, her voice soft. "Please, Kyren. Whatever this is--whatever you did--it's eating you alive. You were once my favorite Cousin. Now you are a ghost to me."
Kyren held out the glass. "More. Please. This is unbearable enough without it."
Amalea handed him the bottle. "Tell me."
Her offering wasn't the same vintage of the bottles he had drunk, nor was it of the same quality. But it burned as it went down his throat, a sure sign that it was working.
"Can I trust you, Cousin?"
"Dare you not?" Amalea asked. "I'm probably the only person you can trust at the moment. I'm still willing to believe you. The others might not be so kind."
"She has spies in the castle," Kyren whispered. "Spies. If she discovers that I've told you, she will find a way to kill me."
"She wanted to kill you before," Amalea said calmly. "She failed. I will not let you die."
"But can I trust you?" He was weeping now, openly, the tears trickling down his cheeks and tasting of wine.
"You could truthspell me and find that I have not been assimilated by the person you are so afraid of," Amalea said, quite seriously. "And I give you leave to do so, if you are that far gone."
"And if I do, and you are bluffing--" Kyren couldn't help himself now. It was almost as if her words had loosened some dam inside of his mind. Perhaps that had been her intention. "Cousin, you say you've not been--assimilated. But I have. Oh, I have."
"Then tell me," Amalea urged, her gaze intense. "Tell me. Please, Kyren."
It was little enough that she cared. Kyren's throat was so dry that he had to swallow twice to speak. "Perhaps--Perhaps I should show you, then, Cousin. Although I daresay she left traps for me, as well."
"Show me?" For the first time, Amalea looked uncertain. "Show me what?"
"This may mean my death," Kyren said, standing so fast that he almost fell. He did not dare look at her. "But at least I can die with a clean conscience." When he turned away, Amalea caught his hand.
"Kyren, please." She gasped a little at his touch. "You're freezing cold!"
He shook her off and took a few steps, but not before he realized that he would never make it to the door. He swayed, alarmed now, struggling to push past an almost overwhelming urge to succumb to the darkness that now swirled at the edges of his vision.
"When was the last time you ate a meal?" Amalea asked, her voice calm, but the expression on her face worried.
Kyren tried to answer her, but he couldn't find enough strength to speak. It wasn't a spell, this numbness, just simple exhaustion. The effect of living in terror for far too long.
She slid a chair under him as he collapsed. "This has gone on long enough! Kyren, what is wrong with you?"
"I'm lost," he whispered, and gave himself up to darkness.
Next update: July 13th
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