by Monica Doke
“I didn’t rape her,” the first man said, “I jest wanted to see ‘em do it and I jest wanted to see under her knickers.” He grinned evilly so Jax punched him again - in the throat. The man coughed a few times but lapsed into laughter. Jax sighed.
The wafting sound of large, beating wings interrupted the group as they bound the men. Issy landed neatly beside Pinter. The large Freeroamer glanced over once, then again in surprise. Issy was completely nude. She did not speak, creating an eerie silence in the night. The first two men ogled her body without shame. Issy ignored their crass behavior and approached the first man. Her face was impassive, but in the moonlight, the stillness in her expression was terrifying.
The first man smiled again, a cruel, unapologetic smile. Issy did not react to his expression and walked straight up to him. She took his face in her hands and pulled him forward until his face was only inches from her face.
Jax's eyes widened before anyone else when tendrils of darkness poured from the man and into the night air. He was the only one present who could see what was happening. The first man fell to his knees in front of her, his eyes glassed over and vacant. Slowly, he slipped onto the ground and was no more. She repeated this action with the second man. He fell to his knees as well, but instead of dying, he wept.
The third man sat staring up in her direction. He struggled to his feet before her and tears streaked down his face.
“Are you the angel?” the third man asked, his face up and his hands outstretched. As usual, Issy did not speak. She placed one hand on each side of his face. He looked up at her, his eyes unfocused. As Issy held his face in her hands, Jax felt the static of Ether buzzing under his skin. He wondered how Issy had Ether. Helacorn usually did not.
A gray mist surrounded the Helacorn guard as she held the man in her hands. She knelt, dragging him down with her. He was weeping in earnest now, his face contorted with regret and guilt. No darkness left him, however. Jax watched as Issy released him. She leaned over beside him as he wept.
“She is an empath,” Yirah said from behind Jax. Jax and Pinter turned to her as she spoke, “Our parents were Conjurers. Well, our mother was. Our father was so jealous of her ability that he claimed he who possessed it killed her when his never manifested. This is why he took Issy's voice. She could speak for the dead and she can read your mind.”
“What did she do to them?” Pinter asked, indicating the three men.
“She found their soul and stripped it of evil,” Yirah said, looking reverently at her sister. “She learned she could do so when she killed our father. Just like the first man, he had no good left in him and perished. The second man there, he had goodness in him still and she destroyed the evil in him.”
“What about the last man?” Jax asked, “Nothing happened to him.”
“I understand your meaning, in that no darkness left him, but something did happen to him. She showed him the evil his group had displayed before and then she showed him Melody. She showed him what she was for,” Yirah explained.
“Why?” Pinter queried.
“He could not see,” Yirah said simply. “Many are not evil, only blind.”
Thane and Yirah stepped out into the courtyard and looked at the remaining two men. The judgment was heavy between them. Jax turned to the Healer for his final word.
“You have two choices,” Thane said to both men, “I am not concerned with the debate over your evil. What I know is that the perpetrators have perished tonight. The two of you were involved in this crime, and if I wanted to I could charge you with treason.” One of the men whimpered while the other hung his head. “Your other choice is to stay at this inn and work for Daarsh. His mother passed while you were all hunting a young woman. He needs some extra hands around here, and he has agreed that you may sleep in the barn and if you behave, he pays you. I will know if you disobey.”
“So, jail or slave?” the second man asked.
“No. The punishment for treason is death. I want you to understand the mercy offered. The woman your men attacked recommended this option. I would have you executed.” The hard line in Thane's jaw proved his words true.
“I will work for the innkeeper. We deserve death, but I would not injure the lady again by denying her mercy,” the blind man said, his voice small. Yirah nodded respectfully. The other man frowned and stared at the ground.
“I may not be a good man, but I am not an evil man. I do not want to die,” the man said. He resigned himself.
“Daarsh will be glad to have the help. You both owe your lives to the Pramacretine of Agoura. Remember that always,” Thane finished. He turned quickly and left the courtyard. Yirah signaled the men inside to introduce them to their new lives.
Thane, Jennifer, Haroah, Yirah and Issy were all sitting around a table drinking hot cider before they slept. The group had been silent for much of the evening until they all wanted to know more about Issy's Ether. They were all so fascinated by a Helacorn with such potent power.
Jax excused himself from the conversation to go up and see Melody. He felt his heart hammering in his chest. Jax knew he did not want the only light in his life to witness his darkness and prayed she would forgive him if she knew. Jax hated himself for running away as he did; he left her alone.
Guilt tore at his insides as he thought of how he had actually been there watching from a distance. Rictor’s advances and Melody’s compliance upset him. Jax knew he had left out of jealousy, but he had been out so long for other reasons. The Conjurer pushed the heels of his dirty hands into his aching eyes, attempting to stop the hot flood of sorrow, anger and guilt that befell him. Trapped in his thoughts, Jax failed to see Cybil standing before him for a prolonged amount of time.
“Melody wishes to be in your company,” Cybil informed a startled Jax. He jerked his face from his hands and she saw he was on the verge of tears. He nodded painfully and began to spiral up the stairs. Cybil secretly wondered how old the Conjurer was. She slowly turned and began to continue down to the dining area. She stopped suddenly.
“Jax,” Cybil spoke hesitantly. Jax turned warily to look the young Helacorn in the face; his green eyes revealed a deep suffering that caused Cybil to reach out to him. Remembering she had only just met him, she quickly pulled her hand back in. “What - what is she, Jax?” He stood for a moment and looked at the wall. Cybil watched a tear run down his weathered face and found her own eyes growing warm. She swallowed hard and looked him in the face.
“She is...” Jax stared at the wall, lost for words. A space in Cybil’s heart heard the words he could not say. She turned and stepped quickly down the stairs. Cybil wiped her face before she stepped into the dim light of the inn’s dining area. She approached the group; sadness welled inside of her and lingered deep in her bones.
The group was so diverse and loyal. They were the kinds of friends she wished she could have known before everything fell apart in her life. Thane, who Cybil discovered was Melody’s brother, the Prapacretine of Agoura and Healer apprentice, turned his attention to Cybil’s presence. He smiled warmly and moved toward the center of the table, then offered her a seat beside himself. She forced a small smile for him and sat down gingerly.
“How is Melody?” Haroah asked, his eyes red brimmed and sticky with sleep deprivation.
“She is recovering. She suffered only minor bruises and abrasions. Apparently the incantation exploded from within Melody just as her person was truly threatened,” Cybil informed them.
“It was no incantation,” Thane corrected, “Melody funneled Ether directly from the earth when she needed it. We do not yet know all of which she is capable, but we know it will surpass anything the likes of which any of us has seen.” Cybil, both frightened and reverent, thought of Thane's words. How strange to think she would be the first person a savior would save. Cybil looked up at Thane and his sharp features seemed blurred. Looking around, Cybil noticed that everyone around her was rather indistinct. She yawned and nearly fell from the chair she had slumped
into beside the young Prapacretine of Agoura. They all laughed wearily and agreed on a dire necessity for convalescence.
Jax stepped carefully into the dim quarters where Melody was resting. His breath caught sharply in his chest as trepidation welled up inside of him. The Pramacretine was perched quietly upon her bed, staring out the window. He saw the illuminated parts of her face were swollen and tired. Her expression was unreadable and pale in the firelight. She was sitting straight, wrapped tight in a green blanket. She turned and looked right through him.
“I hope... you did not see...?” She began impossibly. Jax strode to the bed and sat beside her. He noticed her wet hair fell in gentle waves all around her face. He stared at the back of her neck. The Conjurer admired the curve of her chin and the angle of her ear, which held a sharp hint of her C'ghalie heritage. “Jax did you – did you see the man who tried to save me? He slaughtered half of those men...” Melody stammered. She shivered. Jax's heart throbbed to see her frightened and in pain. He did not know what to say or do. “Are they still alive... any of them?” Melody asked.
“Two survived,” Jax replied curtly, “Against my wishes. Your brother spared the two after Issy did something to them.” He cautiously checked his tone. The Conjurer watched her face fall out of the candlelight and wondered what was filling her mind.
“I heard what Issy did. I admire her ability. You could guess that I do not like death, Jax. I do not like the cause and effect,” Melody whispered. Jax felt his pulse quicken and sharp words burned his tongue. He was on thin ice and his burning fury made it thinner. He knew he should not justify to her, and though guilt and remorse tore at him, he was not as forgiving as she was.
“I dislike rapists,” Jax snapped. He applied the appropriate amount of restraint to his voice, willing it down to a calmer tone to continue, “They have been dealt with appropriately enough to please your brother.” Melody understood he did not agree and did not press him further. He could not believe the mercy and love that someone just assaulted could possess. He began to speak, but Melody shook her head, guessing his next query.
“They did not, the Ether struck before they could,” Melody assured him. She put her hand on his, holding it as if to reassure him that she was all right. She inched herself closer to his bent form. Her blanket fell gently over her right shoulder. She held it in place, but made no move to retrieve the fallen piece. Jax attempted enough tact to move the blanket back about her shoulder and blushed. He had not realized she only wore a blanket. The Pramacretine blushed and apologized.
“I am not sure if I meant for you to know or not,” the Pramacretine stated honestly. “You make me behave strangely.”
“And you me,” Jax confessed wholeheartedly. He knew that she actually made him behave better, but he was not ready to admit it to her. Heat filled his face. He noticed her own tear stained cheeks brightened. He smiled. Melody returned his smile, casting a striking transformation on her wary countenance. Jax hesitantly wrapped his arms around her, ignoring his boyish fancies and thanking those aforementioned Gods she was not broken or killed.
Melody buried her face into the young Conjurer’s shoulder and wept silently. She listened to his heartbeat and closed her eyes. The small Pramacretine saw his anger when he spoke of those men. She could see him holding back, but his rage had been palpable. She saw herself wrapped in his arms as he carried her away. She had felt only safe with him, even with the questions she had about his life.
Melody thought about his hand as it passed through where her flesh should have been and how he felt within her Ether. She imagined every wanted kiss that lingered between them and desperately willed them into being. She longed to be his for the rest of her life and then remembered it was not destined to be very much longer. To her dismay, her doubt of his character tickled the back of her mind.
The Recovery
Morning broke with ease, but eyes glued shut and not a soul wished to rouse from their blissful slumber. The Helacorn guards dozed, but remained somewhat alert outside the stables. They had chosen to keep watch and admitted to hating low ceilings. The morning dew collected on their hair, causing a luminous glow in the sunrise.
Daarsh made his way through the inn, waking the cavalry. They stirred unenthusiastically, as they heard a loud groan from Thane’s room up the hall. Then came a loud thump resonate through the quarters. Melody smiled broadly at her favorite brother’s antics. He had either rolled listlessly from his bed, or thrown a boot at the door. It took the group only about an hour to get out of their beds and they had not roused themselves enough to dress. Worn to the bone, none minded their exterior to the least. They entered the dining area in their bedclothes. While the inn customers noticed them, they did not seem to be surprised or affected at all by the appearance.
“Do ye want something to eat?” Daarsh asked, addressing the ragged looking party. They all consented gratefully on a hot, fresh meal and ate ravenously. Daarsh seemed particularly pleased to be feeding his new royal friends – so pleased that he did not ask them for payment for room or food. This caused a bit of an uproar, but they surrendered reluctantly. Melody asked Daarsh if she could have a word with him. He consented and led her to a back room.
“Daarsh, we are trying to be careful about who knows who I am,” Melody whispered. He nodded.
“On account of your being the Divine?” Daarsh asked. Melody nodded unhappily. “I understand.” Melody smiled. She hugged him tightly for a moment.
“I am so very sorry about your mother,” Melody said glancing back at Cybil. Daarsh saw whom she looked at and nodded.
“Thank you, my lady,” Daarsh answered. He led her back to her friends.
Cybil sat beside her brother and as she finished eating Haroah suggested she get Thane to look at her back, to inspect the damage of her burned wing remnants. The two Helacorn guards were back inside, leaving the groom to watch after the fugitive. They all cringed at the sight of the stubs of Cybil’s former wings. They knew that wings were the natural insignia of what Helacorn were. Haroah did not have wings, but this was because he was not born with them. This common occurrence did nothing to dissuade Yirah from giving him flirtatious glances. The sisters decided to inquire about the half-lings.
Yirah, being the outspoken sister, sat beside Cybil. Thane requested she wait to ask questions until after he had thoroughly bound the wounded flesh. The obvious mechanics of her former wings were magnificent. He could tell by the weight of them that they were hollow, yet thick and strong. Captivated by the creamy darkness of her skin, Thane felt a pang of guilt for the primal thoughts and shut them off as best as he could. He found the girl beautiful and had no way of getting his head around it.
Thane was a Healer and had relinquished all pleasures of his own flesh in order to maintain purity of heart, mind and body. This, he knew, was the true path of a Healer. Fancies of the flesh were dangerous when one was required to heal so many creatures - some irresistibly beautiful. The job of a Healer required sanctity and indifference. Their hands were merely for curing, bandaging, aiding, and nothing more. Healers maintained level heads in order to treat everyone equally.
Her wounds were healing, but they were still in danger of infection. He announced she was to have the bandages changed twice a day. Once when she woke, once before she was to sleep she was to go to the Healer and have her wounds redressed. The burns on her back and shoulders were bad enough for her to have to endure, but an amateur had quickly done the amputation. He inspected the area. Cybil made no protest. She lied on her stomach, shy and red with embarrassment. Tears of pain gathered on the floor beneath her face. She felt the dizzying lightness of the absence of her wings and the agonizingly heavy absence of her parents.
Melody had come down stairs with the rest of them, but she sat alone in a corner of the room. They felt she might need time for herself so they chose to let her alone for the time being. Daarsh refused to allow this. He sat beside her. Melody smiled at him.
“I hope you don't mind I
hired them men,” Daarsh said.
“I do not,” Melody replied, “I am glad you did.” He looked at her quizzically. Finally, he smiled.
“My mother would've liked you,” he declared. Melody laughed but it faltered and she looked sad.
“They say a spirit is like an energy or Ether that surrounds you and stays always with you until the end of time,” she said, smiling slightly as she thought of her own mother. “It is said my own mother literally gave me her life. Sometimes I think I can sense her in my soul. I like it; it makes me feel like she did not just leave me,” Melody shared. Daarsh smiled happily and closed his eyes. “Thane’s mother, the First Macretine of Agoura who died in battle, wrote a book about fleshless spirits and energies. It is quite intriguing,” the Pramacretine said thoughtfully. Daarsh did not hear her. She did not mind much. He looked up and saw two people were sitting at the bar expectantly. The big man patted Melody with one giant hand and excused himself.
Melody leaned back in her seat and hummed lightly. She was not sure why she loved to sing it, but the song of the Legion of Agoura was her favorite to sing. The words were ancient and written by a Bogfee. The woman was the last of her kind. When she passed, her people were extinct. She was a member of the alliance that Melody’s grandfather had constructed at the beginning of the war of Fae. Men performed the song before every battle and somehow the words brought hope into their hearts.
They eventually titled it when the war ended - “The Echoes of Fae.” Melody began to sing the words, enjoying the tickle of Ether on her lips. The room filled with husky warmness and smiles. To her surprise, even some of the Human customers recognized the song. They looked to her and smiled appreciatively.
The Pramacretine and her cavalry departed during midday and arrived at the palace late that night. Melody spoke very little. She retreated to her room and locked the door, her heart heavy. Most of the cavalry also withdrew to the comfort of their own rooms. Jennifer offered to share her guest room with the newest member of their group. Cybil graciously accepted the room and with it, the company.
