by Jen Weddle
Chapter 24
I wake up on an exuberantly large canopy bed with silky pink sheets and a pink-and-white striped frilly bedspread. The curtains billow in the wind. This room is fit for a Princess with its extravagant plush white chaise piled with books next to the large bay window. It’s extremely well decorated, if you’re a girly-girl and into that kind of style.
I look around at the endless wall of books, as high as the ceiling with white floral patterned wallpaper and a beautiful view of the Sea below.
The pink room contrasts with the murky waters and the cloudy, gray sky outside. I must be dreaming, this place can’t possibly be real. I pinch myself—nothing happens.
I hug myself tightly trying to keep warm from the chilly air coming in through the open window. My skin still feels like icicles and I’m wearing a long gray button-down cashmere sweater and some black silky tights. I changed the moment I got into the room for my nap.
I open the door into the hallway. The floors are made out of a gray brimstone marble, while the walls are covered in a dark wood paneling.
The place looks ancient and smells musty—yet familiar, like the old library I used to visit in the city. There are footsteps coming toward me, and I feel a sudden tightness in my chest. I hold my breath waiting to see what kind of creature will appear from the shadows. I’m prepared for the worst and my hands are balled up tightly into fists at my sides.
The person walking continues to whistle a happy sounding tune—they stop short when they see me. It’s a large man. But not just a large man: An exceptionally large man. He stands over six feet tall, and he’s rather fat. His belly is larger than the average man; and his medieval-style helmet fits snuggly on his head. He’s carrying a large sword engraved with mysterious black symbols and his suit of armor and the symbol of the black dragon embossed in the center looks two sizes too small. He holds his sword out defensively.
I moan and try not to panic: Is he going to kill me?
He tosses his sword to the side, and it makes a deafening clank against the hard floor. I cover my ears and my eyes widen as her tugs his helmet off gracefully. He tosses his helmet beside the sword, and I can see beads of perspiration trickling down his face. He grins at me behind an enormously large beard. I can only tell he’s smiling because his beard has moved a tiny bit in the upward direction.
His blue eyes glimmer relentlessly, and I notice something that I hadn’t before.
The man is not just large—he takes over the hallway—he consumes it with an exuding, ever-present power. He IS power, and he is the King.
I’m not sure what to do so I do an awkward half bow, half curtsy introduction. The man chuckles deeply and rumbles of laughter shake the hallway unintentionally.
“So you are the Princess I keep hearing about?” He requests, his voice a tender baritone with a slight implacable accent—perhaps Scottish or Irish. I don’t know enough to distinguish the two.
“My son has been very excited to make your acquaintance.”
I feel flushed and hot suddenly—I’ve never met a King before. I mean other than my father. Who I didn’t even know was Royalty until just recently. I have no idea how to act. Are my hands doing weird things? Of course my brain forgets manners and courtesies when it actually needs them—I also don’t remember how to form a coherent sentence evidently.
“I—I’m Ali…” I manage to stammer miraculously.
The King bows before me graciously, and I suddenly feel uncomfortable again.
“I am King Edward, ruler of Elacia and I welcome you graciously to my home. It’s not much on the eyes, Elacia, but the true beauty you will find within our inhabitants.” He replies regally. “Please, make yourself at home Alison, and if you need anything feel free to come and find me.”
“Thank you for your kindness.” I whisper, barely audible even to my own ears. King Edward grunts and begrudgingly puts his helmet back on and picks his sword up. He turns toward me with the hand clenching his sword.
“I must be on my way; I’m teaching the children how to properly use a sword.” He bellows out, but his helmet muffles the words, and I can only catch bits of the sentence.
“Also, Riley is looking for you.”
He side-steps past me and continues wobbling in the heavy clanking armor down the corridor.
“Ali.” Riley bellows down the hallway. I turn around to see him standing there. I feel like the air has been knocked out of me—he looks so beautiful. I feel like I’m whole again with him nearby. He races toward me and lifts me in the air spinning me around.
“I missed you.” He sighs.
I don’t want to admit that I missed him…
I can’t let him win so we stand there in each other’s arms in an awkward silence.
He slumps over in my arms unconscious.
“Riley.” I scream. “Please, please wake up.”
I lay him gently on the ground, clutching his head in my arms and rubbing his hair.
What happened? Did he faint from the excitement of being near me?
“Riley. Wake up!” I yell into his face; I begin to sob into his hair and stroke his cheek. It feels cold against my hand. He suddenly lets out a giant breath of air and chokes on it. Coughing and spluttering he grabs me by the cheek and puts it next to his face. My heart leaps out of my chest: He’s alright. We lock eyes, and I instinctively look at the ground. I feel sudden warmth exuding in my stomach. I feel calm and safe here so I let him rest his palm on my cheek, and my heart beats faster.
He puts his hand gently into mine and tugs me upward so that I’m leaning into him against the wall. I wrap my arms around his neck. How am I going to get out of this?
He grabs me persuasively by the waist pushing our hips closer and then he kisses me tenderly. His soft lips meet mine and we get lost in a swirl of purple and silver cloudy mist. Nothing exists except for the two of us in this moment… everything I’ve ever known fades from existence as if this is it.
“What’s happening?”
“It’s happening.” He replies.
“What is?” I ask.
“The connection.”
“The what…” a searing pain hits me in the gut, and it feels as if my insides are going to be ripped out into a thousand tiny little shards. I hold onto Riley instinctively.
“But it hurts.” I cry.
“It’ll be over soon. I’ll never let anything hurt you.”
“Are we dying?” I continue to sob. But it feels like I’m not even whole anymore, as if a part of me is being shoved into him to share a mind and body with him. I look down and a purple and silver glowing mist links between us where our hearts are meant to be.
“What is this?” I ask trying to touch the misty colors but my hands are stuck around Riley’s neck.
“Our souls are finally joining.” He whispers.
“I don’t want them to join.” I shriek. I try to force myself apart from him, but nothing works.
“Why is this happening?” I ask.
“It’s natural—it’s love. Just let it happen Alison. Stop fighting it.”
We land in a heap on the ground, and I’m pretty sure that we were both on fire. I touch my forehead, but it feels cool to the touch.
“What was that?” I demand.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” Riley quips. I want to punch him. He’s sitting there with a smug look on his face. I try to take a deep breath and count to ten. I can still feel my anger boiling deep inside. But I feel different somehow—more aware of things.
“Why did that just happen?” I probe.
“We kissed.” He replies.
“No. But we’ve kissed before. It didn’t happen last time…”
“You were ready to accept that our souls were meant to be conjoined. So when you kissed me your soul opened up to mine.” He replies matter-of-factly.
“Well the only reason I even kissed you was because I was picturing Theo in my head.” I reply callously, sneering and folding my arms
across my chest. His face wilts and he appears to be offended by it. I try hard not to feel wicked, after all he deserves it. My conscience gets the best of me. A deep, long sigh escapes me. I can’t lie to my Soulfire… since we’re most definitely connected now.
“I’m kidding Riley.” I say. He looks up with a glimmer in his eyes. “But can we just start off as friends and see where it leads?”
“You were there when that just happened, right?” He replies. “I don’t know if we’ll be able to be “just friends” with the whole connected soul thing going on between us.”
I purse my lips angrily.
“Fine, I was trying not to kiss you in the first place but when your lips get all pouty and you look so beautiful it’s incredibly hard.” He whispers, pouting his lower lip. “I promise I won’t try to kiss you or do anything. We will just talk.”
“I had a vision earlier.”
“I know.” I reply. “What did you see?”
“We have to leave after the wedding.” He answers with downcast eyes.
“Why.” I ask. I can tell that he’s not telling me something by the look on his face—full of concern and worry. He gulps inward, I watch as his Adam’s apple moves anxiously.
“It’s Theo. He’s in trouble.” He replies still looking downward. He can’t even look me in the eyes. “He’s the last person I want to help, but I saw him in the vision, and he was trapped. Mathew has him and he’s planning on killing him for disobeying him.”
My heart burns and I’m split by the possibility that I may never be whole again if Theo is killed by Mathew. Because I love Theo and I love Riley. How am I ever going to choose? Two tears race down my cheek. Riley wipes one of them away and the other one falls into the palm of my open hand.
