Choice

by Gary Stringer

Phaer froze. “What? What's wrong?”

  Eilidh broke free, rolled over and jumped off the bed, grabbing her white robe and flinging it around herself.

  Phaer felt like he'd been punched by an ogre, only worse. “Eilidh, what is it? What's wrong? If-- If I'm going too fast, I'm sorry! I don’t want to do anything you don’t want-”

  “-No, no, it's not that,” Eilidh protested, trying to hold back the tears. She wanted this so badly, but she could never. Wishing wouldn't make things different. It never did. Reality was reality. “I'm sorry, Phaer,” she repeated. “It's -- It's not you, it's me. I'm-I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.” With that she ran to the door, yanked it open and ran out of the room, calling back to a startled guard, “It's OK, you can go, he's fine now!”

  But Phaer wasn't fine. He was hurt, confused and upset. At that moment, he wasn't sure he'd ever be fine again.

  * * * * * Eilidh ran sobbing, not knowing where to go, until quite by chance she found the chapel of Light, dedicated to Patrelaux. Eilidh was aligned to the Balanced One, Egali-Te, but he was a fairly pragmatic god and didn’t object to his people talking to him, wherever they were. She cautiously stepped inside, relieved to find it empty. Good, she needed to be alone for a while.

  “Why?” she asked the empty room. “Why me?” she demanded of anyone who would listen. Egali - Te, Patrelaux, Mortress, someone else; she didn't much care at the moment. “Why couldn't I be like any other girl? Why should I have to live with this? Hear me!” she demanded. “Answer me!” she pleaded. “Somebody please help meeeeee!” Her words degenerated into a primal scream that reverberated around the chapel as she sank to her knees in despair.

  It was then that she saw the light. A light that wasn't a light, but a glowing point of magical energy that grew into a straight vertical line. It was the most peculiar behaviour in the flow of Life that the Catalyst had ever seen, and definitely not a natural phenomenon. The line continued to draw the outline of a door in mid-air. Once the frame was completed, the door was filled in, followed by three steps, leading down to the floor.

  Curious, Eilidh got back to her feet. The door opened and a tall, graceful woman in golden robes walked regally down the steps. At first glance, she appeared to be a human with complex braids of jet black hair, but she floated with a grace and beauty that would have made any elf maid appear clumsy and awkward by comparison.

  She moved unhurriedly to stand before Eilidh who realised who this was from Rochelle's description.

  “Greetings, Ganieda,” said the Catalyst, having composed herself. She saw no reason to be cowed by this individual and promptly sat down. “What brings you here?”

  “You do, Du y Kharia.”

  “Interesting that you name me so.”

  “So you name yourself,” Ganieda replied in mild rebuke.

  Eilidh assumed Ganieda meant what she'd said in the crypt of necromancy, and since she had no wish to repeat a conversation she'd already had with the Wise One, she let it pass.

  “I'd prefer it if you called me by my name,” Eilidh said, firmly.

  “As you choose, Eilidh,” Ganieda replied.

  Eilidh indicated the seat next to her. “Would you care to sit down?”

  Ganieda accepted.

  “So, what specificallybrings you here?”

  “You asked for help, so you did,” came the reply. “Is it so hard to accept that I heard you and came to offer you my aid?”

  “How did you know?”

  “I just told you -I heard you.”

  “But where were you? You must have been close to hear my voice.”

  “Close, aye,” Ganieda agreed. “And yet so far away. But I'm not here to talk about me. You're troubled, so you are, and I want to help. Don’t fight me, Eilidh. Please.” Eilidh was unaccustomed to talking about her feelings - nobody had ever been interested in them before. She was used to reasoning things out herself and dealing with her emotions her own way. For a moment, her instinct to resist the hand of friendship threatened to gain dominance, but it spluttered and died as her shoulders slumped in resignation and her tears resumed their course down her cheeks.

  “Oh Ganieda!” she cried. “I've just done something terrible, something horrible. I nearly did it! I was so close to just allowing it to happen, knowing the result. How could I do that?”

  “But you didn't,” Ganieda insisted. “Nearly, perhaps, but there's a world of difference between `nearly` and `did`. Aye, there is!”

  “I know that!” Eilidh snapped, irritably. “But this is so serious! You know, don't you? You know what I am.”

  “You're a human being with feelings and emotions,” Ganieda said, soothingly, reaching out a hand. Eilidh pulled away and jumped to her feet. “No, I'm not!” She screamed. “Back there in my room with Phaer, I might as well have put a knife to his throat! In fact, no, it's worse than that. He would have a chance to defend against a knife. There is no defence against what I am. And yet knowing that, I still did it.”

  “Nearly did it,” Ganieda corrected. “But didn't.”

  Eilidh shook her head. “You still don't seem to get how serious this is.”

  “What I understand isn't important,” Ganieda insisted. “Don't you think it would be better if you gave Phaer a chance to understand?” “Don't be stupid!” Eilidh folded her arms, stubbornly and turned her back. “Whatever personal stuff has gone on, we still have a job to do. How could he possibly keep working with me if he knew? After what I nearly did?”

  “How can he possibly keep working with you, after what you did?” Ganieda returned.

  Eilidh half turned to look at the Faerie over her left shoulder. “You've changed your tune,” she said accusingly.

  “That's because I'm not talking about the same thing.”

  Eilidh gave her a confused look.

  “You've been focussing so much on what you stopped yourself from doing that you're ignoring what you really have done.”

  Eilidh turned around completely. “Why? What have I done?”

  Ganieda indicated the seat the Catalyst had vacated a moment ago, and Eilidh accepted it, albeit grudgingly.

  “Phaer has always had an eye for the ladies, so he has, always flitting from one pretty girl to another, but you're different.”

  Eilidh snorted. “He has no idea!”

  “Eilidh!” Ganieda warned.

  “Sorry. I have a flip tongue in times of stress - it's got me into trouble a few times. You were saying?”

  “The point is, his feelings for you grew slowly, as did yours for him, I think, and they blossomed more fruitfully as a result.”

  “Nice mixed metaphor,” Eilidh offered, facetiously. “Sorry,” she cringed. “Just lost control for a second.”

  “Eilidh, this is serious. He opened up to you in a way he's not usually comfortable with. You responded, which encouraged him further and then at the last moment, you slammed the door in his-”

  “-OK, yes, I get the picture, thanks.”

  “Ah, but I'm not sure you do.”

  “Would you rather I'd kept going?”

  “That's not what I'm saying. Do you really believe that’s Phaer’s problem? That you stopped? Do you honestly think so little of him?”

  “Of course not!” the Catalyst shook her head, emphatically. “I wanted it. I really did. I only stopped because I had to. Because of what I am.” “You were faced with a choice between doing what you wan ted and doing what you must, and just because you made the right decision, that doesn’t mean everything’s suddenly fine. You’ve left Phaer wondering what he did wrong and if there's any way to repair the damage he’s done to your relationship.”

  “He didn't do anything wrong I did! Nearly did. Whatever.”

  “No, you didn’t,” Ganieda insisted. “At least, not the way you mean.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Eilidh,” Ganieda said, gently but firmly, “you know he did nothing wrong, but he doesn’t.”

  “That’s not true!” Eilidh insi
sted. “He does know! I told him! I said, `It's not you, it's me`. I told him!” Ganieda closed her eyes and shook her head. “Eilidh, Eilidh, Eilidh,” she groaned. “If someone were to write a list of the worst words to use to break off a relationship, that line would be somewhere close to the top. `It’s not you, it’s me` is a line that people say, and that’s how Phaer heard it.”

  Eilidh’s eyes widened in shock. “But I didn’t mean it like that! I had no idea! I've never had to do it before, I've got no experience. I'm an asocial Catalyst whose closest companions have always been books. But I meant what I said to Phaer. In a very real sense: it's not him, it's me.”

  “Well, maybe you should explain that to him,” Ganieda suggested. “As you say, how can you possibly work together after what you've done? You can’t. Not unless you resolve it.”

  “I don't know...” Eilidh said, hesitantly. The idea of actually telling someone voluntarily, by choice, was something she’d never considered before. Back home in Merlyon, it seemed everyone either knew the newspaper version or had learned one of the many popular alternatives through gossip. Eilidh’s standard defence was to offer no defence whatsoever. She’d always found it simpler to assume that everyone she met had already formed a firm negative opinion of her, and she saw no point in making a surely futile effort to change it. She’d grown accustomed to having no friends, noone to talk to. Come to think of it, the first time she’d made a friend in Merlyon was Toli on the day she left her home – forever, as it turned out. Eilidh had long been puzzled by Toli’s seemingly unconditional loyalty and friendship. She liked to think she’d just been busy and never found the time for

  that conversation, but the truth was she’d never madetime for that conversation. She’d avoided it for

  months, even avoided Toli herself when they weren't out risking life and limb. If she was going to be completely honest, it was one of the reasons she'd sent her out with Granite and the others. That was something she'd have to address later. Now, Ganieda was proposing that she should talk to Phaer about this? About herself? About what she was? The real version? The prospect didn’t exactly thrill her, but maybe…

  The Faerie interrupted her thoughts. “Don’t get me wrong,” she said, “I’m not proposing you bare your entire soul to him.”

  “You’re not?” Eilidh wondered, puzzled.

  “No, of course not. In fact you don’t have to tell him anything at all.” “I don’t?” It seemed to the Catalyst as if the conversation had taken a sharp bend in the road and she was having trouble keeping track of where they were going.

  “Well obviously!” Ganieda replied. “Just part company with him now and never see him again in your life. Easy.”

  Eilidh felt like she’d been slapped. “But I don’t want that.”

  “This isn’t about what you want, it’s about what you must do,” Ganieda insisted. Then she seemed to reconsider. “Oh, but then you might need him for what you must do.”

  “Which brings me back to needing to talk to him,” Eilidh concluded, surprisingly relieved. Ganieda sighed. “You are so much alike, you two, so you are. You both like your privacy and your secrets. Events have forced Phaer to let go of his secrets. Maybe it's time you learned the same lesson and let some of yours go, too. This needs to be resolved before you can move on, Eilidh. Are you really going to let Niltsiar win because you can't work with Phaer anymore?”

  “It can't come down to that, surely?” Eilidh protested.

  “Who knows? The point is: are you willing to take the risk?”

  Eilidh shook her head. “No. No, I'm not.”

  “Remember, Eilidh, your quest to stop Niltsiar is allimportant,” Ganieda told her, sternly.

  Eilidh considered that for a moment, and then shook her head. “You're right that this is my mess and I have to sort it out, but in another way I think you’re wrong.”

  “Oh?” “My quest to stop Niltsiar isn’t the reason I should talk to Phaer. I should talk to him because it’s the right thing to do. I’m doing him a disservice by assuming how he’ll react, instead of letting him show me himself. I’ve always insisted that all my…companions follow me of their own free choice. If Phaer is going to stay with me, after we tried to change the nature of our relationship, I want him to know the whole truth so he can make his choice properly.”

  “Now just wait a minute, Eilidh,” Ganieda objected. “Th ink about this. You are the Du y Kharia. You have a responsibility to play the part destiny has laid out for you. I said you should talk to Phaer, yes, but I alsosaid you don’t need to bare your soul. Tell him something, yes, but tell him everything? You might jeopardise your mission!”

  “I don’t care!” Eilidh shot up, standing up to Ganieda both figuratively and literally.

  “Eilidh!” Ganieda gasped in shock. “I don’t care,” the Catalyst repeated, “because I am not The Chosen One, I am not a pawn of destiny. I am human being with feelings and emotions. I live by my free choices and I have a responsibility to myself. My feelings for Phaer have nothing to do with my quest. I want him in my life, in some way at least, and I want him to want that, too. The only way that can happen is if I go to him and explain everything.” “And if he rejects you?”

  “Then he rejects me!” Eilidh laughed without humour. “Everyone back hom e did, so why should he be different? Maybe he won’t be, but I owe it to both of us to let him choose one way or the other. This isn’t about Niltsiar or about you. Don’t you see, Ganieda? This isn’t about destiny – it’s about choice!”

  “Aye,” agreed the Faerie, standing and offering a broad smile. “You’re quite right, so you are. You’re absolutely right.”

  “…And you wanted me to see that, didn’t you?” Eilidh realised.

  “You did ask for help,” Ganieda reminded her.

  “So I did,” Eilidh agreed. She stood and embraced the Faerie. “Thank you, Ganieda.”

  “I'm glad to be of service,” Ganieda replied, returning the hug. Then, stepping away, she gathered her golden robes, and walked over to the steps that led up to the door she had created.

  “Will I see you again?” Eilidh wondered.

  “Ah, well, that's rather up to you, isn't it?”

  “It is?”

  “Aye! You are the Du y Kharia.”

  With that, she climbed the steps, and disappeared through the door. The door itself vanished a moment later.

  Steeling herself, the young Catalyst turned on her heel and walked purposefully out of the chapel door.

  * * * * * After stopping to enquire with the servants, Eilidh got confirmation that Phaer had been assigned the same quarters as the last time he'd been at the castle. She made a beeline for his room, stepped up to the door and, after taking a deep breath and a long exhale, she gave a gentle knock.

  “Phaer?” She called, softly. “Are you in there?” The door opened. Apparently, yes he was. “Phaer, can we talk?”

  “Now why would I have a problem with that?” he asked, sarcastically. “After all, it's not me, it's you, right?” Eilidh flinched at the barb, but stood her ground. “Maybe I deserved that,” she accepted, “but please understand I had no idea that was such a bad thing to say. I have literally no experience with...emotional encounters.”

  “I can believe that,” Phaer accepted. “Nobody would use the phrase `emotional encounters` if they weren't completely clueless.”

  Eilidh raised her eyebrows. He was laying it on a bit thick, trying to provoke a reaction. She didn't give him one.

  “Please, Phaer. Give me a chance to explain things. If you're going to judge me, at least do me the courtesy of hearing the full story first.” Phaer stood his ground for a moment longer, but finally relented, stepping aside and inviting the young woman into his room. Phaer’s skin was much better now, Eilidh noticed, indicating that he had received attention from a healer. In fact, it was Calandra who had done the honours. Now that he was no longer assailed by raw magic, it had been a simple matter to reverse the residual skin damage.
>
  Eilidh sat down on the sofa, while Phaer took a chair opposite.

  So he doesn't even want to sit next to me now, Eilidh observed. How quickly things can change.

  There was silence for a short time, while Eilidh collected her thoughts.

  “I'm trying to work out the best place to start,” she said at last. Making the decision in her mind, she began, “Do you remember when we were in Avidon and we stumbled across that brothel?”

  “Madam Donna's Adult Entertainment Centre,” Phaer recalled.

  “Exactly,” Eilidh affirmed. “As we were leaving, Madam Donna asked if I was any relation to Ahlidh Hagram.”

  Phaer nodded.

  “You teased me about it and I basically told you to mind your own business.”

  “You said, `You don't ask about my family and I won't ask about yours`,” Phaer recalled, “which was a fair comment. I didn't particularly want to reveal all about my background.”

  “No, you didn't,” Eilidh agreed, “but as things have worked out, I know a fair bit about your background now, so maybe it's time I shared mine.”

  Phaer was surprised at her volunteering this. Surprised and intrigued. He settled down to listen intently.

  “Ahlidh Hagram,” said Eilidh,“was my mother.”

  “How do you suppose Madam Donna knew your mother?” Phaer wondered.

  “I imagine they worked together way back when.”

  “Why would they...?” Phaer began, and then it hit him. “Oh,” was all he could think of to say.

  Eilidh nodded. “My mother was a sex worker. Now, there are two main hazards to that profession. The first is unplanned pregnancy.”

  Phaer was reeling. He hadn't expected anything like this. “You're surprised,” Eilidh observed.

  “That's an understatement.” “You wouldn't be if you'd l ived in Merlyon. There, everyone knew me for what I am. `A Whore's Unwanted Get` that’s how the headline ran a few years back when I dared to rock the boat with what I thought was a simple school dissertation.

  “My mother abandoned me practically at birt h, giving me to the Church to raise me and keep me. She gave me life, she gave me my name, and then she left me. I don’t blame her. She was dying and she would have known I was born Gifted in the Secret of Life, so she tried to give me the best future she could. After all, it's not every young Catalyst who got to be trained at Merlyon's foremost Church school. Of course, many of the other students resented me for that, as their parents had to pay large sums for tuition. Just one more reason to hate me, besides the circumstances of my birth. You see, Phaer, there are - were - no prostitutes or brothels in Merlyon. Not for hundreds of years. To most of Merlyon, the daughter of a whore was barely one step away from being a whore herself.”