Finding Eden

by Camilla Beavers

  “Do you think that could happen?”

  “Most definitely,” the man says matter-of-factly, “one impulsive choice almost always leads to another. That's how it is for humans. I don't see why it would be any different for her.”

  There is a chorus of agreement.

  “And I think we all know that impulsive decisions are never good ones.”

  I glare at my cup. Surely they aren't talking about me? But who else would they be talking about? Out of the corner of my eye I watch Tobi play; watch as he giggles while his toy horse prances between his legs and around his feet. Yes, taking him in was an impulsive decision, but it definitely wasn't a bad one. And I'm going to make sure these people know that.

  I walk over to the group of people I was somehow able to overhear. They see me approach and their conversation ceases, their eyes fall to the floor. The man who was saying all those things doesn't look away. He looks right at my face. He doesn't even lower his eyes with respect.

  “Not every spontaneous decision is a bad one,” I say. “I will agree, though, if there is absolutely no thought at all behind the choice then the outcome is usually a bad one. All of the choices I have made thus far have not been thoughtless.”

  I stare at him for a moment but I can tell from the look on his face that he isn't listening to me. I won't be able to convince him at all, at least not with reason. Hell, from the looks of it he doesn't even respect me, and no amount of my logic will change that. But something has to.

  “I would appreciate it if you didn't gossip behind my back,” I hold my head higher as I say this, “I would also appreciate it if you showed a little more respect. I am your Queen, and as such, I demand your respect.”

  There is a tense moment. The man in front of me wavers a second before his gaze, too, drops to the floor.

  “That's what I thought.”

  I'm slightly taken aback by my own haughty words. But they held some truth and resonate with my current thoughts as I walk away from the man. It also doesn't help that I used my ability to influence him by removing his egotistical red and brown opinions. Part of my feels guilty, but another part of me, the bigger part, pushes those thoughts aside and nudges the corners of my mouth into a smile. Or a sneer. I don't really care right now.

  I feel eyes on me. I guess that group wasn't the only one that heard me. I hold my head up and stand as tall as my petite 5' 2” frame will allow me. My eyes land on every other pair in the room. Something in my eyes, I don't know what, makes them look away from me. Some look at the ground, others find their drinks extremely interesting. I'm just glad they're not looking at me anymore.

  “Serves them right,” I mumble under my breath.

  I walk back to my seat and rub my temples as the conversations slowly start back up. I don't even want to be here. I totally spaced this whole thing. At least I didn't have to plan it. I'm pulled from my space-out session by a loud shout.

  “Why are you even here you little derelict?!”

  My head snaps up and my eyes immediately land on the source of the shouting.

  Tobi is sitting on the floor, his toy horse shrinking into his side. A couple of men stand over him and they don't look happy. At all. They look really, really pissed. I watch as an arm lifts, the hand attached to it being brought back. It looks like the man is going to slap Tobi.

  I'm halfway across the room before I even realize it. My fingers wrap around the man’s wrist like a vise. The room falls into an eerie silence.

  “What do you think you're doing?”

  “Showing this miscreant his place.” The man says.

  My fingers tighten more around his wrist, “You will not lay a hand on him.”

  I'm pissed. I'm pretty sure I've never been this mad. This level of rage rivals that of when Dorian insulted my mom.

  “He isn't the only homeless kid out there, you know,” The man says. “There are hundreds. Are you going to take them all in? If you can't help them all, then you shouldn't play favorites and help only one.”

  “You look at me like I'm scum,” he wrenches his wrist free, “but I'm not the one playing favorites. You should have just left him out on the street.”

  I stare at the man and realize he's right. Am I hurting other children by taking in only Tobi? Am I that terrible of a person?

  “Auntie Eden?” Tobi calls for me, but I don't hear him.

  I feel a tug on my sleeve and I swat the nuisance away without looking away from the man in front of me. A whimper sounds at my feet. I look down. I've swatted away Tobi, and now he's looking up at me with doleful eyes, tears threatening. But I don't apologize. I can't. I can't show that weakness here, not now, not anymore. Then I do the one thing I know I shouldn't, but do it anyway. I close my eyes to his and I walk away from him.

  There's a tug on my skirts and his hands furtively try to grasp onto cloth, but I pull away from him. I hear the mewling behind me and the sloppy, childish footsteps as they tear from the room.

  “The festival is canceled,” I say, the quiet room echoing my words, “everyone leave.”

  I watch as the room empties of its occupants. The room is bereft of the gray sadness, green compassion and the shifting blue loyalty that I know I will have to try to repair later. The connection I've been trying to ignore stretches and then goes slack as Sahariel walks over to me across the room, intercepting me.

  “Eden,” Sahariel's voice stops me in my tracks, stops my fuming, my pacing. I look over at him.

  “Why did you do that? Why did you act that way?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You do that whenever you're around the royal families. You act like a completely different person. Why?”

  “I – I don't know what you're talking about.”

  “Yes you do,” he says, “you act like a different person. You act like you're better than everyone else. Like a royal pain in the ass. Do you even realize what you did to Tobi? I mean, do you really care that much what those... people think of you? Are you really willing to turn into that type of person so they accept you?”

  “I don't care if they accept me.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “No, I don't.” I stare at him, my voice on edge, a headache creeping up behind my eyes, starting to make my head throb.

  “Yes, you do.” He says back to me. I'm not in the mood for this.

  “Oh, my god, no, I don't,” I yell at Sahariel, hoping that maybe he will back down and finally leave me alone. He doesn't.

  “Yes, you do,” he says, “you're so worried now about being normal and being accepted by those around you that you've forgotten that the most important thing is for you to accept yourself, just the way you are. But you're so concerned on whether or not people will like you, hoping beyond hope that they don't think you're different. You're so worried about your looks, how you act. Hell, you're even worried about your name being a little different from those around you. Yet those who truly care about you get swatted away or replaced. When you're around these people, you're so quick to anger that you forget about the people who actually care about you.”

  I stand there and glare at him. This is the first time him and I have seen each other, and spoken, in a while. I've missed him and despite that my foul mood keeps me from admitting he is right. I feel like if I act like a complete bitch, then they will feel in their hearts and know in their heads that I am their queen, and all of those nasty looks and emotions rolling off of them will stop and they might leave me alone. But it never really occurred to me that Sahariel would notice the difference. I didn't even notice the difference most of the time. I would only realize it afterward –only after hearing the whispers after I've said something I maybe shouldn't have, but no one says anything against.

  Am I really so focused on making others accept me that I might lose myself in the process?

  I stare down at the floor; the plush red carpeting offers me no support. I feel Sahariel walk from the room, and all I want to do is fall to the floor and never get
back up.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  It's the day after the festival and I'm not in a terrific mood. People are avoiding me, which is rather difficult to do since a lot of people are running about. Which is odd. I stop in my tracks and look around. The castle is in a rush and I have absolutely no idea why.

  “Do you know what's going on?” I ask.

  “I know just as much as you do,” Kal says.

  A guard rushes past and I grab his arm as he goes by.

  “Milady,” the guard is surprised to see me.

  “What's going on?”

  “The enemy has been spotted to the east.”

  I stand there blinking at him. What?

  “They've been spotted and I'm just being told!?”

  “I'm sorry,” he guard says, “but we just found out.”

  He bows and jogs off.

  I stand there in shock. To the east? But how? That's our least fortified position, but they shouldn't have known that.

  “Oh my god,” I say, “Don't you remember me telling you not to follow me that closely?”

  “I'm sorry,” he says, “but you're making me nervous.”

  “That's because I need to think.”

  I walk away and hear Kal follow me.

  “Well, I don't mean to be a bother, but may I ask where it is you're planning on going to think?”

  “Not here, obviously.” I look at him with annoyance.

  After a few minutes my irritation has elevated to a breaking point and in my head I begin to work out schemes in my head on how to lose Kal.

  “I just don't think you should be wandering around like this,” Kal breaks my reverie.

  “Hmm?”

  “I just don't think it's safe for you to be wandering around right now.”

  “And where do you suppose I should go?” I ask.

  “To the royal stronghold beneath the city.”

  “You expect me to run and hide when my people are getting ready to fight for their lives?”

  “Yes.”

  I stare at him, dumbfounded. Did he really just say that?

  “You know I can't do that,” I say and begin to walk away.

  “Here's something you can do instead of following me,” I say, “you can go and make sure that Tobi is alright After that, find out where Lelaine is and keep her safe, but do not follow me. That is an order.”

  I walk away and he doesn't follow. I'm not thinking about what I'm doing. I just rush to my room, pray that Tobi is alright and curse myself for what I said to him last night. I hope that nothing happens to either of us so I can apologize. I paw through my closet looking for some light armor I was given but I can't seem to find it. Where did it go?

  I hear people run by my door. I hear them shouting, but I can't understand them. The yelling gets louder, footsteps pound and then several thuds sound. Then there's nothing; no shouting, no pounding; nothing.

  I pull the door open and the first thing my eyes see are the bodies. I stare at them, my eyes noticing them but my brain not able to comprehend. Five men are on the ground like rag dolls. Their arms and legs twisted, their eyes open and filled with fear that no dead man should be able to express. But it's there, and it's instilled upon me.

  I look away and I try not to scream or cry. I bite my lower lip and focus on the pain. I close my eyes and concentrate as hard as I can on the feel of my teeth against my lip.

  “And there is the lady of the night.”

  My eyes fly open. In front of me is a man. A tall, scary man with long, silver hair, yellow eyes and a scar running across his face.

  “W-what do you mean?” My voice shakes.

  “You,” he says, “are the one I've wanted to see, to find. Lucky for me the enemy decided to finally make some sort of noticeable move the day I planned my move. But, then again, I never thought I'd actually find you in your room. I thought they would have tucked you away already given the circumstances.”

  “You did this to them,” I say, “but why?”

  He laughs. He laughs from deep down inside of his belly. I don't like it. It sends chills through my body.

  “They simply got in the way of my ultimate goal.”

  I'm scared to ask him, but I need to know.

  “What is your goal?”

  “Simple, girl. To kill you.”

  I can't see my face, but I know that a horrified look has made my eyes go wide and my mouth hang open.

  “Why?”

  He takes a deep breath, his head tilting back. When he looks back on me he has a smile on his face. A small, smug, egotistical smile.

  “I wasn't able to kill Dragar, your enemy got to him before I was able to. And unfortunately fate killed your mother before I could. But I shall take revenge for what you did to my family. It will be a slow, sweet, lovely revenge.”

  “I don't know what it is you're talking about,” I say in a surprisingly steady voice, “but I don't know you or your family. I don't know what they could have done to you, but whatever it is; I don't think any sort of revenge is the right thing to do.”

  “Oh, that's right,” he says, “you weren't born here. Let me give you a little history lesson then.”

  “My name is Illidan Sornova. Five hundred years ago my father and his name were cast aside by your grandfather, erased completely from the record books. My father was once a noble, but we were cast out with nothing and given no means to provide for ourselves.”

  “That sentence,” he glares, “was the worst thing anyone could be put to. Death would have been better than that.”

  “How does killing me solve anything? It doesn't make any sense.”

  “When has revenge ever made sense?”

  He glares at me. The air around him shimmers and in a blink he's gone from being feet away from me to his yellow eyes being only inches from mine, and the only thing I can think about is crying. I know he's planning on killing me, and my brain is telling me I should fight, but I don't really know how. All I can see are his yellow eyes and the blur of green, yellow, red and brown all swirling into black around him. His eyes are glinting emptily. I still can't understand why he's doing this, even though he's explained it. I know there's more to it, I just have to live long enough to find out.

  “Please,” I cry out, “Please don't kill me.”

  “Oh, I'm not going to kill you, not right now at least.”

  He holds up a needle, the quicksilver liquid inside sliding thickly through the tube.

  “I'm going to make you suffer for a very long time, just like your grandfather did to my family.”

  Then he lunges at me.

  I never knew someone could move so quickly. I blink, and a blur of movement comes at me from my side. Something warm trickles down my neck. I swipe at my neck and my fingers are sticky and warm. I look at my fingers and they're covered in a silvery liquid mixed with a deep red one.

  Blood.

  The needle sits on the ground between us, a drop of blood falling off the tip.

  “You stabbed me?”

  “Dying slowly requires poison,” he says, and then he's gone.

  Just like that he disappears, leaving me alone in a hallway with five dead men whose expressions reflect the torment running through my body. My vision clouds, but I don't know from what. Tears fall from my eyes and I feel my body crumple and fall to the floor as everything fades from existence.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Everything is dark for so long. There's nothing; no sound, no light; nothing. I can't feel my body. I can't feel any emotions. I can't even feel the tether that binds me and Sahariel. I'd feel uneasy about it if I could.

  Am I dead? If so, why isn't there a bright light or anything, no life flashing before my eyes? If this is what the afterlife is like then it sucks. Movies lied to me.

  I float for a long time. At least I think I'm floating. I can't tell since there's nothing around me, no ground. Come to think of it there's no air either, which, again, should bother me, but it doesn't. Then somethi
ng happens. The air begins to feel heavier. It's slowly building like I'm in a plane that's about to take off and it's making me feel uneasy.

  I concentrate on that feeling of unease. It grows along with the pressure. It feels like someone has boxed my ears. I can't take it anymore. It's too much. Then the bubble pops and my world crumbles back with agonizing clarity.

  “Eden!” A voice shouts.

  A pair of familiar hands lifts my head; a thumb strokes the side of my face. Arms slowly, gently pick me up and cradle me. I can smell cold air and smoke.

  Sahariel.

  Of course he'd come. But why does he have to hold me so closely. It's too warm. I want to push him away but I can't. My arms won't move. I can't open my eyes. My mouth is dry and feels like it's full of cotton. Every breath I take feels like sand is running through my lungs. The heat is blistering across my body. My brain feels like it's about to explode. I can't breathe anymore. My breaths are short and shallow.

  I'm being carried. I can feel that movement, but all I can concentrate on is the heat. Then the heat flees from my body. My stomach sinks and I get the sensation that I'm falling. I'm falling and I can't reach out to catch myself. And then there's nothing.

  “What happened to her?!” Is the next thing I hear.

  Someone is yelling from across the room. I can't sense anything else. I can't see, I can't feel; I can only hear.

  “I don't know.”

  “You don't know?!” The man is hysterical with anger.

  “We're trying our best to figure it out.”

  “Well then, try harder,” I hear the man growl an audible snap sounding as his teeth together.

  Now I can smell. I can smell the man sitting next to me. The cold air and smokiness softly surrounds me and makes me feel a little more at ease. Of course Sahariel would be here. Here in this extremely clean, sterile smelling room.

  I'm finally able to open my eyes and as I open them, bright light assaults my senses. I see Sahariel through slit eyes, who's glaring at Kal who is on the other side of the room. I look at him, try to memorize his face. His expression shifts as he feels my gaze and he looks down at me.

  “Eden.”