‘Alright, so you blame yourself for the way she is today?’ Tirsa asked tiredly.
‘Indeed. I am responsible a great deal; I showed her the direction, but the path she took was of her own choosing. From what you told me she is still living with hatred in her heart and that is bad, really bad. I have always feared it would come back to haunt her.’
‘What happened to her that has made her into who she is today?’ Artride asked curiously, moving her legs to sit in a more comfortable position.
‘Are you sure you want to know?’
‘No, we don’t want to know,’ Tirsa interrupted. ‘All we want is to get this book to her, let her release our spell and head homeward.’ And if I get the chance I’ll release her useless soul as well! But Artride does not need to know that.
Artride glanced at her weary partner and bit her lip, looking down at the book with its trapped god.
‘Eolas, do you think it will matter?’
‘Matter? To know her story makes you understand her more and gives you an advantage. I am the only one who knows it, you will not hear it from anyone else. To know the truth about her could work in your favour.’
‘Why? You do not believe she will let us leave after she gives us the counter spell?’ Artride asked.
‘To be completely honest with you … As I know her and from what you told me … I do not believe she will give you any spell or your freedom for that matter. To have come this far has not done you any good, but her. She will use you for her own good; like she uses all for her own benefit. I’ve never met any one more self-absorbed.’
‘How can you know?’ Artride asked bewildered. ‘You’ve been trapped more than a century. True, if you were her partner you know her better than anyone, and she has done awful things for sure; however, you have not witnessed everything lately. She says she has our counter spell for the curse and will give it to us! She has to after all we have been through. She owes us that much, from queen to queen we have an agreement; even she understands she cannot break that!’
They heard him sigh.
Tirsa stared at the queen and looked dubiously. Artride did not know who to believe anymore; the evil sorceress who had done nothing so far to aid them; even if she did explain it was a test for their own good to be worthy of such a great prize. Or this god Eolas who certainly had a kind voice and was known by trustworthy Roalda who had not spoken ill of him. And he sounded like he was honest with them. Artride doubted visibly. Her mind was clouded by the lure of the counter spell she was promised.
‘Look, I would help you if I was free from this book; I would help and earn your trust somehow. But for now you simply have to believe what I tell you. This book is indeed a spell book; I created it myself and it even holds counter spells. Unfortunately … it does not hold the much craved counter spell you desire.’
‘It has to,’ Artride said angrily. ‘We searched so hard. Is there no other chamber, no other book?’
‘I am afraid not. We did not use many books. This book, however, does have a formula to create this particular trap for a being inside a book and a powerful being like her could cast it of course. With her power it would not cost her too much trouble.’
‘But you say she won’t cast us a counter spell?’ Tirsa asked.
‘All I am saying is I know her, even if I have been away, and by the sounds of it she has not changed for the better.’
Artride looked devastated, and her companion laid a comforting hand on her arm.
‘I say we try and see for ourselves. Let’s take the book to her,’ Tirsa tried.
‘With me in it?’
‘Why not, only she can release you, is it not? Once released you can help us.’ Tirsa said hopefully.
‘Yes, but no. She will not be pleased to hear you have found and woken me up. It will surely endanger your chance of success, if not your downfall.’
‘How can you be so sure?’ Artride tried.
‘She wanted me dead, and knowing I cannot, being immortal, she had to try for another way to get rid of me. This was her way …’
‘Alright then, not with the book. Let’s hear how we can demand her to make this spell for us,’ Tirsa said in a firm, but gentle voice. She had to act now.
‘Impossible. Once I was dear to her, but she never gave me anything she didn’t somehow gain from herself. She is in charge completely, and you have to be very subtle to ask anything from her. You have to make her believe it was she who came up with the idea or she won’t do anything for you. She has to be in control at all times, even if you have to make her believe she is. Do not forget this or it will surely be your downfall.’
‘What then do you suggest?’ Artride asked quietly.
‘I will tell you her background first, shortly, so you can decide for yourselves.’
‘If you believe it is relevant, go ahead,’ Artride remarked.
‘Why doesn’t she stop us if it is relevant?’ Tirsa asked looking around. ‘Doesn’t she see everything that’s going on in this cave?’
‘Not in this room, not while I still have some power. She knows that you have entered this room, but she still does not suspect you’ve found me. Curious though, the way she makes you believe there is a counter spell to be found here, of all places … However, she cannot use any of her powers in here, so she cannot tell, not before you leave this room.’
‘She will be mad if she finds out; which is a good thing,’ Tirsa smiled.
‘So you better be prepared for her.’
And he told them the life of Sempervirens before she became the person they knew today:
~ ~ ~
‘She grew up as an only child within a barbaric tribe, in a harsh, windswept sandy desert with little food but the tough desert animals. They killed all that walked and breathed. Her father was the brute head of this desert tribe and to put it mildly not very pleased his only child was a girl. He tried hard to father more children with every fertile woman of the tribe; claiming it was his right, since his own wife seemed not able to give him any more offspring. After years it was clear he was as barren as the land around him as none of the women of the tribe, which had received strict orders to remain chaste, gave birth. This angered him tremendously, and he fired his rage at the little girl. All the men and women were frightened of him; so they let him hurt the girl repeatedly. She was also considered to be bad luck and the bringer of misfortune; cursed they said, for since her coming the whole tribe was in trouble.
‘Rocks and rotten meat were thrown at her and foul language. At times of the hunt she was to be locked in a small barn, and often forgotten for days on end before someone finally remembered her and let her out; mostly her own mother, who in her darkened sad heart still remembered how happy she had been when she first looked the tiny fragile baby in the eyes and fed her. Those thoughts were dimmed quickly when she thought about the grim days after.
‘Over time, as the anger of the father did not pass but worsened as he saw how the skinny girl did not bend, nor break, but began to blossom and grow into a stubborn beautiful young woman, the other tribe members began to hate her even more and silently the other women envied her for her natural grace, endurance and beauty.
‘In this tribe the people did not grow very old; most were killed during the dangerous hunt or by the other violent tribe members. However, a lot of children were born in the years after her father gave up his pursuit, as his main focus was his daughter. The days of the tribal leader began to come to an end as he grew weaker and weaker, and almost every day he sat drunk upon his stone throne. The daughter instead, looked healthier and stronger than ever, avoiding her people, but with a loathing for them so great as if she lived on that energy. It was a shame women were not supposed to be head of the tribe, so the others began once more to pity for the father who had not fathered a son. Even if he was an angry man the tribe had flourished well under his command before her coming. The young men began to fight and show the tribe leader who was the strongest to take his place. However,
he did not care and that frustrated the members. He had no lust in choosing a successor.
‘Sempervirens, who at that time lived under a different name, still lived under his roof as a punch bag for all his faults, refusing to die, not even allowed to by the tribe, as her life was thought the best punishment. But, as her father became less and less interested in her in his growing dementia, she became stronger and began to make plans for the future, a future away from the tribe. She was only sixteen, but very mature for her age. The young men, who in their younger days had cast stones and scolded her, began to chase her now with a different kind of interest. Mostly, she could keep them at bay, but that angered the men even more. Many asked for her hand officially, so they could inherit the title by marrying her, but her father did not think her worthy enough still, and perhaps he still punished her by refusing her this much. She would not inherit the throne. However, nobody knew she had no such interest. Fact was, she still depended on the tribe for food and shelter, for in this harsh land a person on their own was a dead one. For all those years she endured the torture, when she could not flee, all the molesting and abuse. Because she knew that one day it would all be different; and that day she would be free.
‘Living with a hate so intense and real, her only emotion left, she had made it her own. Growing more powerful she knew one day she would be ready to make her move, before they would finally kill her by breaking her spirit.’
‘One hot night when the tribe was in a deep sleep, a fire which was flamed by the anger and hate that lived in her heart, grew so fierce her brown eyes glowed like embers and she felt the fire growing inside. As she was afraid it would burn her from inside she learned to master it in a matter of minutes. Only one goal she had in mind, which was only one step away from freedom. A ball of fire shot from her eyes while she concentrated on the entrance of her parents’ stone fort. A barrel filled with grease caught fire and woke them up. They were unable to get past the fire spreading inwards. The screaming soon woke the other members up and they were just able to see how the young woman set flame to her parents. And yet her anger was not stilled; she killed every man and woman of the tribe. No soul was to be spared as the cruel tribe had to die, she decided. Hundreds of them burned that night until nothing but ashes remained as a silent reminder.
‘A pitiless tribe was destroyed who had treated her, a child, heartlessly, like she was a ragdoll, never a person, as she put it later. But even being different from them as she was, she still had belonged to them; she was the last and their blood ran in her veins, and as hard as she tried to get rid of her people they would always stay with her somehow. She ran all the way through the desert, hiding by day from the heat, walking by night in the cold to the mountains and reached strange woods. She lived among strange animals and survived against all odds. Being in another place, which was nothing compared to her old home, helped her forget the things she was eager to forget. She was searching for a new place which she could call home; something she had never known before. And as she searched through mountains, woods and plains, she knew she searched for a feeling she never had felt, so even if she did find it she wouldn’t know what it would be like.
‘She knew she did not belong to humans who only caused her pain and she knew she did not belong to other animals who avoided her because she still was surrounded by an atmosphere of wrath and hostility.
‘One day she came upon an open spot in the woods further from any place she had known, and was about to break down and was ready to die, until she found a ruined temple. She had never seen such a beautiful place before. It was spread with the most wonderful flowers she had ever seen, with the loveliest colours and shapes. She knew she had found what she had been looking for all those years, even if she had seen flowers before. This temple, its colours and its atmosphere gave her the feeling she liked and for the first time she felt at ease. Inside, its altar was covered by wet leaves and the notes of people long gone, yellow and unreadable. For hours she sat there still and numb before the god of the abandoned temple sensed a sad spirit. He appeared for her, as he had not done for years. Most people had forgotten about him in time as the knowledge of insight became less popular since it usually brought pain and suffering. This girl knew all about that already, as young as she was, and the god sensed it when he looked into her eyes. She did not ask for him like others had, but even so he had appeared for her. His dark-skinned presence, darker than hers, did not frighten her at all, since he was kind and most handsome.’
The two woman glanced at one another and smiled in conspiracy.
‘I truly am!’ He stated a little hurt, sensing their mockery before continuing.
‘She was more than charmed by not only his looks, but by the power he radiated. She knew she had met her counterpart. In the beginning she was very suspicious and it did not matter to her he was a god. That charmed him as well. She treated him like her equal. Slowly she began to trust him and look up to him, as he taught her how to master the powers inside of her.’ He stopped a moment.
‘The rest is quite personal, but I assume you have an idea now.’
‘What a dreadful history; never knowing love while growing up and to be treated like that! Artride said. ‘These tribe members sound more like beasts than people. Even animals would not treat their offspring like that. How cruel!’ Artride clearly was wrapped up in the story and felt pity for the little, unwanted unloved girl, she once had been.
‘It is indeed a sad, cruel tale. But she is not a child anymore, but a grown person still embodying the hatred she learnt to get use to; still blaming people.’
Tirsa added. ‘Could you not teach her to change that into something positive?’
‘I showed her the love that animals have for their offspring, the affection and care they share for one another, even the love people give to each other. All of my love, which was genuine, as well. She understood, or I thought she did, but it only made her remember her own shortcomings and sad history, and wrath would captivate her wounded soul again. Showing is one thing, but comprehending is another. I gave her all of my love and she did open up to me; drinking in my love she so needed and lacked all those years. She tried to make up for it. But her hatred of humans I could not cure. It is a pity I am no mortal man, perhaps then … Remember it was a whole tribe who spat her out and not a single soul stood up for her, protected her. This is irreversible. My motto as the god of insight is to learn from our mistakes and to grow through our misfortunes. That is how you gain insight. She, however, is so hurt; so damaged a soul I’ve never come across before. Mostly, one would have given in and be broken long before, but she still lived for better or for worse.
‘People are individuals and not all bad, I tried to tell her. Mostly people who do wrong are hurt themselves and victims of abuse. She began to look down on me, and my task in helping humans like I did. That is the task of all, to help each other, I explained, not only for me as a god. But she thought I pitied her and wanted to help her for my own benefit. She became more and more wrapped up in herself and in her illusions and power; she began to ignore me, not knowing how to deal with my admiration and love. It was impossible to teach her respect, for she, herself, had never had that. She had my respect, my love, my wisdom, but that was … not enough. She wanted more …’
‘Did she love you?’ Artride asked suddenly, and Tirsa rolled her eyes. What does it matter?
‘I wish I could tell you that. I wish I knew for certain. I think she is not capable of loving anyone. Not with that background, not without having received love while growing up. All the love in the world cannot save her; it is too late for that. I know that now. Her parents should have done that. I would have given my soul if I could have saved her. She still thinks she can do it all by herself.’ For a moment he was silent. ‘As for me, I should thank her really, for I was blind all that time. I had almost forgotten what it was like to gain knowledge by experience. Through pain people learn. I guess I taught her too well.’
‘Gosh, it
is hard. What are we suppose to do with all this information about her, pity her?’ Tirsa asked worriedly, rubbing her neck.
‘No, she does not want your pity.’
‘Did she tell you all this herself?’ Artride asked.
‘Not with so many words. I dug in her mind mostly to find the answers. It was not a pretty place to be.’
‘If she has no spell for us and won’t make us one …’ Artride muttered. ‘What are we to do?’
‘Take her life,’ the god answered dryly.
Artride’s mouth fell open. ‘Take her … after everything you told about her?’
‘I made you care for her didn’t I?’ and they heard him smile. ‘That was not my intention. It will only be harder for you to take her life. No, I wanted to make you understand why she is the person she is, and why she cannot be changed.’
‘Why can’t she change? Because you failed to help her change? What makes you so proud to say that if you can’t, no one can?’
‘Artride … if the man says the only way out of this mess is by killing her … wait a minute … what about the spell? If she is dead our hope of a spell dies too!’
‘I can make you one.’
‘You can? Why didn’t you say so before?’ Tirsa jumped up from the floor.
‘Then we can leave right away!’ Artride yelled exited.
‘After we kill her,’ Tirsa persistently stated.
‘We have no reason to kill her, Tirsa,’ she reminded her.
‘The Silent Folk have,’ she argued and looked in anger at the queen. How could she have forgotten about them?
‘And I do,’ Eolas said, and Tirsa sat down again, still disappointed. ‘Why you as well?’
‘Did you happen to notice talking to a book at all? I am trapped in here for as long as she lives; unfortunately she vowed to that.’
‘Oh …’ Tirsa bit her lip. ‘Why this particular book anyway?’
‘It’s the first spell book I gave her. She has no use for it anymore, knowing everything in it by heart. I suppose it is a cruel way to thank me.’
The Queen's Curse Page 32
