I remember grey mist where I wandered, not seeing a beginning or an end; I remember Innis’ voice that I followed, hoping for something...and I remember how Innis grabbed me.
I woke up on the altar, only to see Martha’s body—my nanny, my second mother. I sensed something inside my chest pressing and burning so much I could hardly breathe. I felt sick and miserable.
“Mother...”
Martha was lying in my arms—calm, peaceful, a contented smile on her face...and dead, and when I heard her voice, I shuddered, almost dropping her body on the floor.
“It’s all right, m’ boy. Everything’s all right now.”
“Mother?”
I turned around, looking for her, but her voice came out of the snake’s mouth.
“Don’t go looking for me, son. I’m not here anymore, I’m gone. It’s just m’ voice, a memory. If I did it right, ye’ll get back, and ye’ll hear my words. But...why ‘if’? Ye and Innis, I believe in ye both. That girl loves ye. That’s why I rushed in here when the life mage was trying to heal ye.”
“I had to do so much! Put m’ words into the snake’s mouth, prepare the place for the ritual...and I did all of that. Don’t go blaming yerself. There’s no sacrifice I wouldn’t do for ye. Once, Michelle and I, we were dreaming. We knew that she’d give birth to ye and I’d do the raising part. We knew that our son would have two mothers...and so he did.”
“Be happy for us both. I knew what spell they used against ye. It tore yer soul away from yer body. I could go beyond the border meself, but then it’d be Innis who died because ye love her—or I could send her and pay with my life. That’d be right. The Beyond lets some go, but it demands something in return. A life for a life, and I paid for it. Live yer life, my son, and be happy. Just carry out m’ last wish. I want to lie beside Michelle. That’s all, I think...”
Her voice changed, touched with irony, so inappropriate in a reptile’s mouth.
“Ye know, I hafta say so much, but I have so little time...but whatever. I can wait. I love ye, my boy. See ye later...much later...”
Her voice died away, and only when Innis started wiping my tears, did I realize that I was crying, sobbing violently, like a snot-nosed child.
I knew that I had to put Martha’s body on an altar and go up, show the people their king, but I had no strength left for anything. All I had was pain and longing.
Next to me, my wife was crying, and the snake was coiled around my feet, while I was thinking about fate’s odd and cruel game.
Once upon a time, there had lived two girls. Both had turned out to be mages, both had ended up in prison, both had gotten tortured and abandoned by their families. But had they become angry at the world? Had they decided to take revenge against it? Had they started killing? No.
One of them had given her life so I could be born. Had she truly wanted revenge or had she simply known what would happen to Radenor with a king like Rudolph?
The second had given her life so I could continue living.
During my childhood, I had thought that I had had no mother. As it turned out, I had had two—and I only understood it when I lost the second one. It wasn’t much of a consolation that Martha had known how much I loved her. We always think that we haven’t given enough love, warmth, time, and understanding—but why do we only realize that when the people we love are gone?
It felt like something broke inside my heart. Was it grey apathy? The ice? They weren’t for me anymore. I had left them there, in the Beyond. Michelle had born me a half-demon, and Martha had made me a human, even if I had never realized that before.
But now I knew that I would never make such mistakes again. I would never underestimate my enemies; I would spend more time with my wife and children...
But that would happen later, after we climbed back upstairs. Until then, I stayed on my knees, crying, and if anybody told me that it was unmanly, I wouldn’t even have killed them. I just felt too much pain.
***
Innis and I buried Martha in the Torrin graveyard.
There, under a white headstone, lay Michelle, and there, by her side, they would put a black stone and engrave “Martha Fael” on its surface. Centuries would pass, and the memory of them would fade away, but the stones would remain, and nobody would ever part the two sisters. They had deserved their peace.
Rick and Henry were crying, unashamed of their tears, and Auntie Mira had even fallen sick; Rene and Cassie broke down, and Little Rick was agitated in Innis’ arms.
“So what’s next?” asked Henry when the last shovelful of dirt fell inside the grave.
I shrugged.
“Next, we’ll do what she paid for. Live. Bear children, raise them, rule the kingdom...”
“Love and celebrate life.”
Innis quietly approached us and stood next to me.
“That too,” I said, embracing her shoulders.
“What about your son?”
“Let him stay here until he’s a year old. After that, I’ll take him to the palace. I’ll figure out a way.”
Innis nodded in agreement.
“Tell the girls to pack up, too. It’s time for them to go out into the world, look for husbands... Life goes on! As for death, well—are we necromancers or what? One day, I will definitely see Martha again.”
I went up to the grave and knelt for the last time.
“Farewell, Mother.”
And in a flash I saw something, through time and space, even as my eyes hurt, half-blinded, sparks burning the synapses...
It looks like a meadow, a huge green clearing overgrown with soft grass, daisy buds speckled here and there.
Two girls are standing in the middle, one of them short and fair-haired, smiling and making a wreath, while the second, with long black braids, hands her flowers. Soon, the wreath crowns her head.
“Now that's more like it.”
The sun is shining, their laughter is everything, and peace reigns supreme. When the second girl turns for a moment, I see Martha’s face, and it hits me—is the first one Michelle?
In her portrait, she looks so different, but here, she’s smiling.
Was it truth or just a hallucination?
I looked around. The others had politely left me alone in the graveyard, but I had already calmed down. They were there, far away, and they were happy. Would Innis and I get there? Maybe if we prove ourselves worthy.
Well then—at least I would try.
Epilogue
“Mother, but what happened after that?” A small girl said, looking at the woman telling her the story, demand written on her face.
“Then they lived happily ever after. They got rid of the conspirators so that it would never happen again, and His Majesty had a long and just reign.”
“Together with his wife?”
“Of course. You can’t leave the ones you love; you always have to keep them close.”
“Did they keep hating necromancers?” The second girl didn’t seem interested in love, but something else instead.
They were twins, but as different as night and day.
“The king said that the curse caused him to transform and if the people didn’t want such a king to rule them, he would understand and give the throne to his son when he grew up.”
“Did he?”
“The people were against it. Everybody thought that sacrificing himself and the throne for love was very romantic, so nobody let him go.”
“Did the king and the queen have any children?”
At that point, I decided to interject.
“How about some sleep, everyone?”
That was some bad timing. The screaming made me want to stick my fingers in my ears.
“Father!”
“Papa!”
Two shrieking bundles of joy clung to my neck—my daughters, Martha and Michelle.
I gave them a strong hug and winked at my wife.
Innis and I had been married for almost ten years, but nothing had changed. If I we
re a believer, I would have run into the local temple every day, thanking the Bright Saint for his mercy for every minute we spent together.
But the Church still had no liking for me; while Shimaris was there, they held back, but...
A lot of other things had changed in our countries, however.
Amusingly, Radenor and Riolon were brought together by that memorable assassination attempt. The Radenorians appreciated my sacrifice for my beloved, while the Riolonians got angry that somebody had tried to kill one of their own, and if the king had shielded her with his own body...maybe he wasn’t such a bastard, after all.
Actually, lots of other people considered me one, but who cares about what bureaucrats think? Any ruler would be a bastard if he forbade them from stealing. Assassination attempts never stopped for long: Innis, Rick, and I all got our share. Such was life, and nobody had ever promised me a peaceful one.
Innie and I got two girls, both black-haired and blue-eyed, resembling both me and her. Rick wasn’t jealous at all. He adored them, and the two young quarter-demonesses felt that and twisted him around their little fingers. What jealousy was there to speak of?
Innis treated the boy as her son, and he was quite sincere when he called her momma; it’s not like he had ever known another one. We were thinking about having another child, too: somebody had to inherit Andago, after all, or Tidann would never let us rest in peace, neither here nor beyond the veil.
“Are you going to sleep at all?”
I laid the girls to rest. At such moments, I regretted having demonic blood. They could be such quiet, docile little girls who never raised their eyes away from the floor...the horror!
And eventually, I would have to marry them off—and to whom? The Tevarrians were already keeping away from them, and our courtiers...couldn’t be said to be happy and content, as blood couldn’t really be hidden for long, especially demonic blood. One of the girls was a born necromancer, while the other inherited Innis’ air magic, and Rick had both fire magic and necromancy, just like his father.
What would my grandchildren look like? I shuddered at the thought.
I kissed the girls goodnight and pulled my wife away from the nursery.
“Where’s Rick?”
“He went to bed early.”
“Hmm, honey, is this in any way connected to Duchess Carlayne’s dress catching on fire in public?”
“Of course not!” Innis lied expertly. “The dress is one thing and going to bed is something different altogether.” Then she changed the subject. “What about you? Any news today?”
“Rene sent me a letter.”
“Really? What’s happened?”
“He thinks he’s done sowing his oats and has met the woman of his dreams.”
“We’ll have to take a look at her.”
“She’s Riolonian as well, an orphan, a baroness, though...”
“As long as she’s a good person.”
“As long as she’s human,” I chuckled. Sometimes, the old wound reminded me of itself at the worst possible times.
Innis kissed me deeply.
“You’re human, my love. A half-demon, a king, whatever. You’re Alex, and I love you.”
“I love you too.”
A cool night breeze, the sound of the sea, the smell of salt and fish... Was that what happiness felt like?
Those were the moments that should be treasured like precious jewels and remembered until the end of your days. My wife was right; in that instant, I wasn’t a half-demon and a king, I was just a happy man grateful to his two mothers for everything they had given him. Maybe once, they had planned revenge, but all they created was happiness, for me, for my country, for Innis, and our children, and I don’t think I could ever have wished for more.
The End
From the Author
Dear friend!
Thank you for reading! I was happy to share this story with you and hope you liked it. If so, please, remember to leave a review, it will support me a lot.
I sincerely read all yours reviews and comments, they help me and inspires me so much, I do really appreciate each and every of them.
In appreciation you can find a sample of the second book of A Medieval Tale series further.
Thank you, my friend!
- Best wishes, Lina J. Potter
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About Lina J. Potter
Call it inspiration, the voice of a Muse, or plain obsession... but I felt I had to write it down or else my brain would explode with all these characters longing to come alive.
Lina J. Potter has been dreaming up stories for as long as she can remember. She started putting her tales on paper when she was around ten years old. Despite that, the first her story came alive only in 2011.
Her literate pseudonym helps her saving her family and daily routine inviolable. She is laughing while remembering how her colleague at work decided to discuss A Medieval Tale series with her, having no idea she was speaking with the author herself.
Nowadays Lina J. Potter lives in the town of Tambov with her husband, daughter and two cats. She has a light-hearted approach to writing. Whenever she is not writing, you can find her practicing karate and lace-making. She avoids personal publicity and shies away from the literary limelight, preferring her quiet life to focus on writing.
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[1] A local saying; equivalent to black cat.
n Archive.
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