by A.J. Aaron
“Every normal person, in fact, is only normal on the average. His ego approximates to that of the psychotic in some part or other, and, to a greater, or lesser, extent.”
Sigmund Freud
24
Leyna sipped her coffee as I stoked the fire.
“So when are we going back? Maybe this time we should go inside our ancient bodies to feel them and know what they’re thinking first hand. Is that possible?”
I sat down and put my arm around her. “It’s possible. I asked Aysel about it, but she was reluctant. Something about the possibility of us changing the future. Paradox she said.”
“Pair of ducks? Ducks are cute. The way they mate for life and how they take care of each other.
“Not ducks. Para dox. It’s something we should leave alone for now, or we could cause a ripple in time we’d regret.”
I stroked Leyna’s raven hair and her hazel eyes gazed into mine. I could feel the real Leyna now—not the bitch who used to be there.
Leyna kissed me on the lips. “Then let’s just observe again until we understand more. I’m still nervous about all of our powers anyway. I sure wouldn’t want to turn into a pair of ducks even as cute as they are.”
I smelled the sweet smell of her skin. It had become familiar and calming. I put my coffee on the table. “Ready? I’m interested to see our history. Especially after having met the bitch you were.”
A stinging slap landed on my bicep. “Bitch! Don’t you call me a bitch!”
“See. Maybe, instead of were, I should have said, are.”
Leyna grabbed me by the hair and pulled my face to her. She crushed my lips to hers and I tasted the sweetness of her tongue. She pulled my head back and glared at me facetiously. “Maybe I’ll need to bring back a little of the power that bitch had. It kinda feels good.”
“Not to me. I like having hair on my head.” I combed my fingers through. “Now let’s go see what our history is.”
We both folded into each other on the couch and closed our eyes.
Vibration, a tunnel, a feeling as if we were falling, then finally floating above a father and a son...
The father said, “I never liked Lord Tiryaki. His name even implies his attitude.”
As they rode over the dry mote of a castle, Ancient Sevilen asked his father, “What does Tiryaki mean?”
“Stubborn addict.”
“Nice.”
The gates opened, letting them into the keep. A guard ran ahead to lead them to the main door. When they reached it, he held the reins of the elder’s horse so he could dismount.
“Welcome, sirs. My lord is looking forward to meeting you and your son today. I should warn you, though. He has not been in the best of moods lately.”
They stood by the guard as he held the horses. The father gave him a gold piece and leaned over to whisper in his ear. “Thanks for the warning. But what would you ever do if your lord were lost to life? Would you not miss him?” The father stood with his hand resting on his staff.
A big grin filled the guard’s face under his bronze half-mask. He looked around cautiously. “Sir, I’m sure you must know the answer to that. My lord is not a pleasant man to live under these days. He beheaded our best cook yesterday because my lord’s Hellim was too salty.”
“Hellim is a salty cheese. That’s how it’s made.”
“I know, my lord. My point exactly.”
“Well, I do not know if I could help you any, Adem. Thank you for the insight.”
Guards held the huge cathedral-like doors open. Two guards inside led them to the receiving room where Lord Tiryaki was seated in a seat resembling a throne. A place where he held office for issues the townspeople brought forward. I doubted he had many townspeople bring anything forward, if he’d beheaded a cook for salty cheese.
The father leaned over and whispered to his son, “He is treating us like commoners. We should have been received in a dining hall, or music room—not an area where he receives ordinary townspeople.”
The guards stopped them, confiscated their swords, and backed away. Father and son walked forward leisurely, the father carrying his staff by his side, horizontally from the center. From this distance, they saw what appeared to be two animals, one on each side of the lord’s throne.
The father whispered again, “Those are women.”
Sure enough, two women were made to crouch on all fours—eyes looking at the floor. Dressed in finery, but subjected to degradation. The father stopped several feet from Tiryaki, stood his staff on the ground, and placed his hand on the crystal top. “Lord Tiryaki. Thank you for receiving us. We are honored.” They both bowed their heads.
“You should be honored. I never let light-skinned people in my home. You have bad blood, you Christians! What do you disturb me for?” The older woman crouching by him coughed. Tiryaki grabbed a short scepter off his lap and hit her. “Shut up, you old hag.”
She covered her mouth and coughed again. Tiryaki looked back at the father and waved his fat hand as a sign to continue.
“The gods have told us there is a deposit of gold on your property. We request permission to mine it. Of course we would give you sixty percent.”
Tiryaki’s grossly overweight body shook with his chortling. “You want to give me sixty percent of what I own? How kind of you. Where is it?”
“I can’t tell you, but you can try to obtain the information from the gods if you choose.”
His face turned red with fury. “Gods! You Christians are all the same.”
“I am not Christian. Jesus was a good man and a god in his own right, but my gods are many. All the powers of the planets and stars work with me.”
“Well, tell your gods to go to—” The old woman coughed again. Tiryaki’s fat hand rose up above his head. He slammed the heavy end of the scepter down fiercely and smashed her head with a crack. She crumpled to the floor. Blood flowed down her forehead.
Ancient Sevilen prevented his father from going to her. The father lifted his staff and pointed it at Tiryaki, moving his son behind his arm.
Tiryaki laughed. “Point your stick at me all you want. You can’t harm me with that. These are my women and I can do as I please with them. Tell me where the gold is while the young one pleases me, or I’ll kill her when she’s done.” Tiryaki stood and pulled the young one, about seventeen years old or so, up by her long, black hair and dragged her in front of him.
The father raised his arms to the ceiling and swung his staff in a circle above his head. The crystal glowed piercingly bright.
Tiryaki was busy trying to get the young one to submit. “Tell me where the gold is, or this one will die, too!” He was trying to grab her arms and hold her. She broke free of his grip.
The father pointed the staff at him and a white-hot bolt exploded from its tip into gluttonous flesh. The connection to Tiryaki was held firm and the light crackled into his flesh. The smoking smell of burnt flesh floated off his body as the fire consumed his screaming mass. In a matter of seconds, he fell forward with a splat, and sizzled, dead before them.
The father went to the old woman and ancient Sevilen to the girl.
The father put his hand on the older woman’s back. “She’s dead. She would have died today anyway, she was so ill from the mistreatment Tiryaki has bestowed upon her. How’s the young one?”
The father went over and tried to sweep her hair aside to see her face. She flinched from his touch. “What’s your name, young lady?”
She pulled back from him and looked at the smoldering body. She looked back at the father and son and studied them for a moment. “You two are kind, caring; I see your souls inside. Unlike the soul of...” She pointed as if stabbing him and spat on his burnt corpse. “...he, who was my father. I am Leyna. How did you do this to him?” Her face looked up at them and they saw her completely. “Can you teach me?”
Witnessing her ancient self, Leyna gasped in my ear, “That’s me.”
“Shh.”
The gi
rl went to the old woman, sat next to her, and held her bloodied head in her lap. “Mother!”
After some time, she stood and went to the smoldering heap and began to kick it, screaming and sobbing. Ancient Sevilen’s father pulled her away, still kicking. “Come, my lady. You have a new life. Forget the old one. You will be honored at our home and we will teach you the about the power. Come.”
The guards stood around waiting to see what was next. Adem approached them. “Lord Decarain. Thank you.
“Adem, defend the keep. Make sure everyone has plenty of food and drink. We will return to help you create abundance for your people.”
The door guards handed them their swords and bowed. The father looked to the others in the room. “I am your lord now. Adem will be in charge until we decide on a permanent lord of the estate. Go now, be at peace.”
