by M. D. Grimm
My minions had now arrived. Eyes began to be seen in the darkness. Grekel was off to my right, his pack behind him. He began to snarl. Truls began to show up, their large lopsided bodies moving slowly but their eyes keen on the prospect of fresh meat. The new creatures I had discovered earlier, who I now called burrowers, were moving silently over the snowy ground, their tiny legs working double-time to come swiftly. Their antennae quivered, and their mouth pinchers snapped excitedly, eager to see what I wanted them for.
The two mages looked around them, shock in their eyes.
Fasions, carrion birds, showed up in the branches of the trees, their black eyes glimmering wickedly in the dark.
The trees swayed ominously in the gloom, their creaking mixing with the noises of the animals. The sun had now set completely, and I could smell the storm on the wind. The rumble of thunder could be heard in the north behind me, and the chilled wind began to pick up.
“I think it’s time for you to leave,” I said softly. “Unless you want to meet my loyal servants.”
As if on cue, all the creatures surrounding the mages, big and small, made growling, snarling, or clicking noises in unison.
Dyrc bared his teeth at me. “You dare treat the messengers of the Council like this?”
“You are in my territory,” I said simply. “You came uninvited. I am not your host, and you are not my guests. I know the rules. You are at my mercy -- if I had any.”
I found pleasure in watching Nanna nudge Dyrc, and together they vanished, transporting themselves elsewhere.
I wasn’t naïve enough to think they were gone for good. It wasn’t over. But until the storm blew over us, they would wait.
I hoped.
I let the creatures go, and they returned to the forest.
I nodded to Grekel, and he bowed his head. The wichtln vanished, and I took a deep breath, shivering. Now that they were gone, my magick settled down once more into my core, and all my warmth seemed to be sucked down with it. The cold burned my skin, and my legs shook with exhaustion. The adrenaline that had spiked during the encounter left me exhausted, drained.
I turned to Aishe. “We should get inside before--”
“Why did you let them speak to you like that?” Aishe said, his voice quavering again.
I blinked. “What?”
“They think you are a monster!” He seemed genuinely surprised by that.
“Yes,” I said, my voice weary. “I told you that, remember? None of the other mages like me.”
“I know, but--” Aishe looked at the spot where the mages had stood. “I just -- I could never have imagined...” He stared at me. “They wish you dead. I could tell. Especially Dyrc. They think you’re a monster.”
Aishe seemed dazed. I touched his arm. “I’m used to it, Aishe. It’s all right--”
“No, it’s not!” Aishe yelled, and I jumped back, shocked.
“You’re not a monster!” He pointed at me. “You’re wonderful, and funny! You protect! You’re -- you’re a guardian. Why can’t they see that? Why don’t you explain it to them?”
“Because they’d never believe me,” I said, trying to understand Aishe’s outburst. Was he outraged for me or at me?
“You could prove to them--” Aishe started.
“Listen to me Aishe.” I gripped his arms. “They’d never believe me. They’d think it was some sort of trick. They’re going to believe what they want to about me, okay? Even if I saved their lives, found families for orphans, prevented wars, they would still think the worst of me. They would think that I was tricking them, manipulating them only to strike out at them when they least expect it.” I sighed and dropped my hands. “They’ll never trust me.”
“But--” Aishe waved his hands in frustration. “But you’re a good mage!”
I smiled slightly. “Don’t let that get around.”
“This isn’t funny,” Aishe snapped, frowning hard. “You know, half the problem is you. You don’t make any sort of effort, and you’re actually proud to be considered a villain.”
I shrugged. “It means I don’t get a lot of visitors. I did always hate playing host.”
“By the Mother, Morgorth!” The exasperation was clear in Aishe’s voice. “Would you take this seriously for a moment? You have mages breathing down your back for that damn ruby. Why not just give it to them and be done?”
“Because that’s not the point.” I said, starting to get frustrated. “Now, would you like to get inside Geheimnis before we get blasted by the storm?”
Aishe narrowed his eyes. “We’re not done.”
“Didn’t think so,” I murmured, leading the way up to the castle.
***
It didn’t take Aishe long. I had just shut the front doors of Geheimnis, blocking out the night and the storm, when he started at me again.
“I really don’t understand you, Morgorth,” Aishe said.
“It’s like you don’t want them to think any differently of you.”
“No.” My patience was growing thin. “It’s because they won’t think any differently of me. I told you.”
“How do you know if you don’t try?”
I stomped into the parlor, Aishe at my heels. I threw off my coat and ran my hands through my hair.
“Because I just know, all right?” I swung around and faced Aishe, who had also discarded his coat. “You don’t know these mages like I do, Aishe. They’re suspicious and proud. Their hearts are stony and practical. Only Master Ulezander trusts me, and all the other mages think he was daft to take me on as student. He’s a genius and well-respected, so they let that slip.”
“Maybe--” Aishe paused. “Maybe if I just talked to them, explained to them, then they would see--”
“No!” I pointed a finger at him. “If you ever leave this castle with the intention of meeting them alone I swear to the Mother that I will lock you up in one of my towers.
Do you understand?” My blood boiled, and my stomach clenched painfully at Aishe’s words, my magick churning near the surface. I realized I was shaking, but this time it wasn’t from the cold.
Aishe stared at me with renewed fury, and his back stiffened, his fists clenched. “I am not an infant.”
Indignation was clear in his voice. “I don’t need you to protect me.”
“Aishe.” My tone was a warning. “You will obey me.
You don’t know mages like I do. Promise me you won’t go anywhere alone until I’m sure they have left my territory.
Do it!”
Aishe jerked at my voice, and I watched the fury flare in his eyes. “Why are you treating me like this?” His voice was soft and trembling. “Why are you treating me like an idiot? I would never put myself in danger--”
I laughed. It came out bitter. He bared his teeth.
“Not put yourself into danger?” I scoffed. “Please, spare me, Aishe. You’ve done nothing but put yourself into danger since I met you. Should I count how many times I’ve had to save your ass?”
Aishe flushed, and he turned away from me, his shoulders stiff. I didn’t know what I felt at that moment.
Fear made me angry, the mages made me angry, and Aishe’s defiance made me angry.
“Don’t argue with me on this, Aishe,” I said, staring at his back. “This is my world, not yours. You do as I say for your own good.”
Aishe swung around and glared. “Your world? I see. So Dyrc was right -- I’m just supposed to behave like a good pet and sit when ordered to?”
My magick burned inside me, and flames burst forth from my hands. They climbed up my arms, and I couldn’t calm them. But despite the flames, the fire inside me, my skin was cold; goose bumps broke out everywhere, and my hair rose. I wanted to destroy, to maim, to get this pain and fear out of me.
“You’ll never understand, so why should I explain?” I murmured, fire burning my throat.
“I’ll never understand unless you talk to me,” Aishe countered.
I shook my head. I met his eyes; my ow
n I knew were burning. “I am who I am, Aishe. I told you who I was when we met. I told you how the world saw me.”
“Morgorth--”
“You think I don’t wish they saw me differently?” I said loudly. “You think I don’t wish that my destiny was something different or unknown? You think I like being persecuted?”
“Of course not--” Aishe said faintly. Vaguely, in the back of my mind, I could see the fear in Aishe’s eyes, his small pupils, his pale face. But my emotions were ruling me, and I couldn’t stop.
“You don’t know what it’s like to be me.” My emotions flooded through me, and I could no longer hold them back.
The flames rose higher to consume my shoulders. “And I can’t explain it to you.”
I swept out of the room, away from Aishe, away from the tension and anger. Away from his accusing eyes, the fear I had instilled in him. I jogged up the grand staircase and ran down the hallways, the flames climbing higher. The desire to destroy was so hot inside me, my fires were burning out of my control -- they began to singe the walls, tapestries and ceiling. Words of hate pounded in my head, and I became desperate for release. I felt like I would explode if I didn’t do something with these raging emotions.
I surged up the long flight of stairs that led up to one of my towers, my legs trembling. I panted hard as I shoved through the door and out into the storm. The wind howled around me, a ferocious beast that wanted to ravage and destroy, trying to push me off the tower. The hail pelted me, and the thunder rattled my bones as it boomed. Searing white lightning flashed to my right as I stood in the middle of the tower, the magickal flames still burning brightly on my arms and shoulders. I was the only light in the sky other than the lightning.
Closing my eyes, feeling the pressure of magick behind my eyes, almost reveling in the sheer unadulterated power inside me, the sheer force of my will -- I ripped the magick loose with a word. Waves of flame, as bright as the lightning around me, erupted from me and shot into the storm. The black clouds roiled above me and fed my fury and desperation. I yelled into the storm, cursing it with every foul name I knew. Hating it, hating life, hating myself. Not for the first time, I almost wished I could be the Destroyer they assumed I was. I almost wished I could set aside my fear, my heart, and just become what they wanted me to be. It would be easier.
Not for the first time, I seriously wondered why I resisted my destiny with such passion.
Then I just collapsed and stared at the stone under my hands. I was soaked within seconds and shivering within minutes. But I didn’t move. I stayed in the storm, cold and alone -- which was something I knew very well.
What did Aishe know? He knew love, affection, tenderness. He knew words of adoration and devotion.
He didn’t know a thing about starvation, abuse, and being fed hate like it was mother’s milk. He never had a father who took a whip to him. Aishe never had his entire species condemn him a monster when he was just a child. One scared, stupid child.
I wrapped my arms around my chest and looked around.
The storm continued, gleefully pounding at Geheimnis and Vorgoroth. The storm is probably bypassing Happy Valley, I thought bitterly. I swayed under the force of the howling wind, and the hail slammed into my body, leaving bruises.
The storm was a good reflection of my own emotions, the battle that was waging inside me. The battle that never stopped being waged. I was able to forget about the war when I was with Aishe. But those mages brought it to my attention once more -- who I really was.
It was hard to argue with what the mages thought of me when I thought it of me. How could I really hate them and be angry at them when half of me thought they were right?
But I was angry; I did hate them. If nothing else, their actions would give me a reason to become the monster they so feared.
Dyrc’s words suddenly flashed in my head: “You think the Council doesn’t know what you’ve done since leaving Master Ulezander? We know all your dirty little secrets.
Those you’ve killed, those you’ve tortured.”
Did they now? I wasn’t completely surprised; I hadn’t been secretive about my actions then, all those years ago.
I shuddered, never once allowing myself to bring those memories to the surface. They were better left deep down inside my mind. Besides, I was sure that Dyrc and those of the Council had dirtier secrets than I. But the fact was that Aishe had heard that -- and yet he’d come to my defense.
Because he didn’t know. He didn’t know the deeds I’d done. He was in denial of my actions, which was easy when he didn’t know what those actions were.
I sighed deeply and continued to shiver. I wasn’t there very long, however, before black shadows flittered over me. Shadows unrelated to the storm. I frowned and looked up, the rain stinging my eyes. Three gargoyles had braved the storm and landed beside me. They suddenly encircled me, linked their arms, and spread out their stone wings, blocking me from the wind and the hail.
I felt my face pull into a smile as I gazed up at them, their heads pressed together. They were really doing their best to protect me. I laughed hoarsely at their devotion.
Devotion I had built into them when I’d created them. They would sacrifice themselves to protect me, but that wasn’t their choice. I didn’t inspire loyalty; I had to build it into the enchantment.
And then there was Aishe. Why did I ever think he and I could work? Our worlds were so different -- mine didn’t accept me, and the consequences of that were currently invading my territory. How could I keep him here when it was so dangerous for him? I loved him, I know I did. I loved him with an intensity that I shouldn’t be capable of.
But what good was my love when I might not be able to protect him from my world? From the mages that wished my destruction? From myself?
Misery and I were old companions, and I met him once more as I sat there on the cold stone, underneath my cold gargoyles, beneath the cold storm.
Chapter Four
I stared out the window from where I stood in the tapestry room. It was a large room with tapestries from all over Karishian hanging from the walls. Some were frayed and ancient; others were newer and hadn’t faded yet. Some depicted historical scenes, or scenes from myth. Others were intricate designs, and one had the Mother’s knot and the Hunter’s knot woven expertly together to form an expansive and symbolic knot of unity.
I had dried my clothes with a spell when I’d finally managed to stand and walk inside. My skin was still cold and I still shivered, but I figured I deserved it after acting so impulsively. Running outside in this winter storm had been really stupid. Thunder struck again, and I flinched. Rain lashed the windows, and I saw nothing but black outside.
My reflection was pale, and my eyes were dark, nearly as wild as the storm outside. My throat felt raw, and my emotions were not only throbbing in my head, but in my stomach. My heart. I looked ill. I felt ill.
I knew I’d treated Aishe badly, and I was sorry for it.
He and I had been having such a good time alone, before those damn mages came. We hadn’t argued or fought. We’d talked about unimportant things and had sex. A lot of sex.
But wasn’t that the problem? We were still getting to know each other, and I had no idea how you did get to know someone.
Could we work? Doubt gnawed at my insides. I desperately wanted us to, but looking at it practically, there was little chance for us. I leaned close to the window and fogged it up with my breath. Then I drew a heart with my finger. I stared at it a moment before drawing a dagger piercing it.
It wasn’t just our worlds that were different -- it was our pasts. Our life experiences were so completely different.
I looked at the world cynically, and he looked at it optimistically. Right there was a problem, wasn’t it?
I looked down at my arms and pushed one of my sleeves up. I fingered the scar that encircled my wrist -- courtesy of manacles -- and remembered clearly what I had done to deserve such punishment: I hadn’t followed my fathe
r’s orders quickly enough. Sometimes it was because I made a sound he thought was annoying (like breathing), or if I sneezed without his permission. I had never known when the punishment would come or what form it would take. I had lived in a perpetual state of fear and desperation. It was remarkable I hadn’t gone insane. I never forgot how that felt, the terror that loosened the bowels, that made your hair stand on end and caused your breath to quicken, your heart to pound. Your gut to twist until pain radiated and caused tears of helplessness to stream down your face and mix with the cold sweat that had broken out all over your body, to soak your clothes and cause you to shiver. I would never forget. Or forgive. Trust was something I never had the luxury to indulge in. Trust, like love, were words I never knew and when I did learn them, I never understood.
Yanking the sleeve down again, I turned away from my reflection before I was further tempted to break the window.
I was avoiding Aishe, unable to face him yet. His loving eyes were not welcome right now. And neither were my damn memories or my self-pity. The mages were where my focus had to be. How was I to deal with them? If I gave them the stone then I would show weakness, and the reputation I had worked so hard for would be destroyed.
But if I didn’t give them the stone, they could declare war on me, and I would not survive that. I was caught, trapped, and that made my magick burn hot again, rising like a geyser to burn my throat. I shoved it down this time, but my fingers still tingled painfully.
Those mages had brought my past to my doorstep. They had brought their hate and created tension between me and the only creature to hold my heart. Those damn mages had shattered the bliss Aishe and I had been living in. They had to pay for it. But how? Various violent and unpleasant things whirled inside my head, but none of them were plausible. It would only work if I got away with it. But they had to pay -- they had to feel my wrath.
