As it is always my duty, I must once again pick up a pen and a sheet of parchment to record the events that, sadly, had lead to the fall of the great queen of Arcan. It is with a heavy heart that I write these memoirs with quick and fluid strokes of the quill pen, and there would be an occasional sigh or two that would issue out of my mouth, but that is no sign of surrender. I would rather whoever comes to reading this would understand the precise reasons of the queen's downfall before I myself follow her path, as I had promised so many nights before. Hopefully somebody finds this after my departure- I do not wish to linger around these empty halls for long, for every passing moment in her chambers tears my soul apart, for it longs to hear the familiar voice that would sing every night, to smell her sweet and delicate perfume of jasmine, and to feel her soft hands against my calloused ones. I would also wish for nobody to try and stop me, for I have made my decision, and it is a promise kept.
Genies like I live longer than any human being can- possibly even longer than gods, who, from time to time, get killed too. But we aren't immortal, and I'd rather things that way. It is very difficult to live with guilt; trust me, for I probably have the guiltiest of hearts among my brethren. And though I enjoy this freedom, which is rare among genies, I sometimes cannot bare to face each waking moment- for anywhere I go I see the results of my mistakes plainly before me.
One such is my master. He has never been bad, and there was not a time when he had mistreated me, but his decision of forcing everybody out of their free wills to achieve eternal peace was dangerous, and not to mention unjust. And so I have betrayed him and fought, though I had no personal reason to, against his immortality. And with the help of the Queen of Great Arcan, Emilia Nighthaven, we were able to put a stop to his merciless reign. Now the once great immortal would stare everyday out of his prison window, not truly seeing anything at all. He is forever lost.
Another guilt I cannot live by is the brave queen herself. She is a dear friend to me, and she treats me with the same closeness. In the past we would exchange shy looks and flattery, but that was because she was young then, and she took interest in me, like all girls do with men. Nothing had changed, of course- we would meet each other every single day to do work, with me by her side. She needed a replacement for her fallen general- and as much as I hate to admit it, she needs me. I took the job.
But it hurts me every time when she would try to stand from the mobile seat that was made especially for her by the mages. She hated the chair, her cripple, her inability to run and walk normally. And I am afraid that it is my entire fault, though she never accuses me of it, as is her personality.
Though that doesn't stop me from seeing her eyes lower in sadness whenever she watches the town children run and play, and how she would force herself to stand up when she thinks nobody is around. And in my blue parrot form, I watch her knees buckle, and she would fall to the ground in failure.
Once she didn't bother hiding her attempts in front of me. We were taking our daily stroll along the garden beside the river, with me pushing her wheelchair behind her. She was smiling, the usual gentle upturn of lips that sometimes caused my heart to miss a beat or two, but her eyes...they weren't as bright as what they should be. That look greatly bothered me, so I spoke.
"My queen, look how wonderful the skies are over there! That glade...can you see them between those trees, just across this river? Do you wish me to take you there?"
She looks up at me, mouth slightly agape, and the cool breeze played with her auburn locks. "Are we allowed there?"
"Why of course! You are the queen, are you not?" I say playfully, pointing a finger at her face. "Don't tell me you're an old mage in disguise!"
She laughed openly, and then threw her arms around my neck in a tight hug. I immediately scooped her from her chair and made my way across the rocks. I was still carrying her when we got into the glade, and as she looked around in wonder I carefully lay her on the grass. After that, I took my own seat across her highness. It was by sunset when we decided to leave, and as I was going to cross the river with her in my arms, she told me to stop before I could put one foot on the rocky bridge.
"I want to cross by myself," she said, looking at my eyes. "Please? I want to try."
I couldn't say no, but I did protest. "But Emilia, you- you can't. Try to understand. I don't want you to get hurt."
"If I fall, Solymr," She cut through me, pushing herself out of my arms, not listening to my reason or any of that. "I know you'd catch me."
And so I watched worriedly as she placed one trembling foot on the rock. As expected, her knees gave way, and she would've tumbled down into the water if I didn't reach out and hooked my arms around her back and pulled her to safety.
I kept her in my arms long after that, and I could feel water dripping on my collar, even if we weren't wet by the river. She was crying. Her whole body shook in my support, and though she made no sound, I could tell. And my heart broke little by little as every teardrop fell on my clothing, seeping through to my skin.
"I couldn't even make one step," she sobbed. "I'm never going to be able to walk again!"
We were silent when we made our way back to the castle, with her drying her eyes and me pushing her wheelchair home.
I walked through the silent halls the night after that, pondering on my freedom and position. I have never thought of using this new-found happiness to the limit, like what I suspect other genies would do in my place. All I wanted was to try to pay my debt to Emilia, since she had done so many things for not only me, but for the country as well. At first I intended to surrender myself to her will, denouncing my freedom and once again binding myself to a human- only this time, my new master isn't immortal. Then she can wish for anything she wants, and I would try my best to cure her cripple, as I know she would ask. But I also know that Emilia wasn't that kind of person- and there was no way I would be powerful enough to heal her.
Honestly, how can a genie be 'all mighty' if he couldn't even save a young woman's future, let alone free her of her prison?
The thought haunted me as I made my way back to the chambers in where I sleep, and halfway before I arrived I decided to visit my former master. I know there was nothing to be said, even if I did attempt to make a conversation- he wouldn't bother replying, much less acknowledge my presence. But I wanted to see him nonetheless- and so I went on.
The dungeons built here in Great Arcan are comfortable for anyone who would visit. It was warm, well-lit, even after the wee hours of daylight. There was no innocent soul to be found here for every captured criminal had been given fair trials. Those who found themselves locked behind bars were depressed, yes, but they weren't mistreated- such is the way of our just queen.
Past countless jail cells lay my master, who was sitting on the chair where he had been all day, staring into nothing. I didn't enter his cell this time, just looking at him through the steel bars. He would never recover- just like Emilia.
I then returned to my room, and even after a while of tossing and turning, sleep did not claim me.
Despite my lack of sleep, I found myself striding across the halls early the next day.
I was becoming restless, I realized. Whenever I would chance upon a mirror I would no longer see the straight and handsome young face of a genie, but instead an older version of myself, with increasing wrinkles that show my recent insomnia. I look horrible now, though in the past that was the least of my concerns. I guess when you're free, you see and mind every detail that is shown to you- since your thoughts aren't so occupied.
"Good morning, Solymr! I see you're up early." greets a familiar voice, a sweet and honest tenor that only one human could possess.
I turn to find the person I've been expecting, and quickly a smile was plastered on my lips, to conceal the trouble that swam beneath my golden orbs. "A pleasant morning to you, Queen Emilia." I bow low, and she leaned heavily on the crane she had brought with her. She never liked sitting all day on the metal chair that she thought her prison. "As always, so formal. Lighten up a little," she said softly, reaching out to touch my cheek, and I froze as her smooth palm made contact with my skin. Immediately I straightened up so that her hand wouldn't linger on my face; I did not wish her to feel the lines that frayed its once unblemished perfection.
Instantly she noticed that there was something troubling me, and she withdrew her outstretched hand and whispered, "What's wrong?"
I shook my head slowly, forcing a smile to peak in my face- but that didn't work. In fact, that only concerned her more.
"Solymr," she began, shifting her weight on the crane, and suddenly remember how weak and crippled she was- and it was terribly rude of me not to help her, or at least ease her hardship. Carefully I pulled her arm and brought it around my shoulder so I could lead her this way to the furniture in her room, where we would talk undisturbed. She made a small sound of protest as I took the crane from her but made no movement to stop me, and together we limped towards her chambers. When we got there, I placed her gently on her bed and sat on a nearby chair facing her. She sighed, and then smiled weakly at me. "Well, it is a good idea to have our conversation here where none of us would be uncomfortable," she spoke at last, but I dared not return her words- let alone her smile. "So...now that we're alone...will you tell me what's on your mind?"
After a few moments of hesitation, I did.
I told her how my immortality disturbed me greatly, how sometimes I would wish my death; I told her about my remorse for all the mistakes I've done- those things I did to other people in my master's order, and the things I've failed to do as a genie; I told her how much I wanted to help her and Gavin Magnus, and how it would have been better if Magnus had never thought of the rainbow crystal; I told her how much it hurts me whenever I would see her go around, business as usual, but forever struggling with the damage I have caused her- I told her so many things I've sworn not to tell anybody. But then again, after that embarrassing tirade, I felt a tad better.
When I finished, I saw her eyes fill up with tears and her lips tremble- and I realized how terrible a person I am, paining her with so many things she'd be better off not knowing about. What kind of friend am I?
"Oh Solymr!" she cried, launching herself onto me, crying shamelessly on my shoulder. "I'm- I'm so sorry!"
"Sorry?" I repeat, surprised, but returning her embrace nonetheless.
"I've caused you so much melancholy, and even if you're free, you are still bound by the sadness and remorse I have dealt you! All I want is to make you happy, honest! I never intended you to be hurt by everything you think you've done-" here her voice hitched, and I tried to see her face, but she was still pressing herself onto me- and I didn't want to let go. I could feel the stinging in my eyes, and the beginnings of a tremor in my body, but I didn't want her to see me this way- and so I closed my eyes, willing the tears to seep in, and took in a shaking breath as she continued. "It's all my fault." she ended in a whisper.
"No, it's not." I say at last, and silence reigned over us for a moment before I went on. "It's not your fault, not anymore." She raised her eyes to see me, and I saw confusion and surprise mingle in her tear-stained face. "What do you mean?" she asked delicately.
"I share the responsibility now, my queen." I whispered back, and then I lowered my face to capture her petal-like lips with mine.
How wonderful it felt to kiss a woman after such a long time.
Our relationship was the best thing that had ever happened to me since my granted freedom. I spent every hour and minute with her, be it when she's busy with her responsibilities as a queen, or when she'd spend her free time in the gardens, and even as I'd watch her sleep every night beside me. I have gotten the hang of being normal and no longer oath bound- and the feelings of sadness and remorse were gone at last.
Three years passed, and Emilia Nighthaven was no longer a young queen rebuilding her country; for Great Arcan was at its golden age under her leadership, and she had transformed into an ideal leader- and a respectable adult. But deep inside, she was still Emilia- the same woman I have found my happiness with.
And then, all too suddenly, everything was once again taken away from me.
It was tragedy underneath a miracle. A fake blessing that took away the hope of all Great Arcan- that took away my newly found love.
She wasn't herself the past few days, and this sudden disappearance unnerved me. She started having migraines she sometimes complained to me about, but all I had said was, "You're just tired." What if there was another reason, a more probable reason, and I never knew?
She was acting especially peculiar over the breakfast table, where I had last seen her today, and she was in a terrible and grouchy mood. She had snapped at me twice already, and had left to rest in her room, refusing those servants who would offer to help bring her there. I sat in my chair, surprised, and I thought I understood why she was acting that way. So I decided to apologize a little later to let her cool down.
But she didn't show up to any of her arranged meetings, so I had to fill in. Everybody was asking me about their queen- and I told them what I thought, which was a big but believable lie without my knowing of it, and the others believed my story. "Being a Queen isn't easy, it's hard work." I heard one of the noblemen say.
"Emilia?" I call out, squeezing through the small gap in the open door that lead to the balcony on the highest arch of the castle. I had spent the whole day looking for her; I had to take care of everything in her place. Though usually it did not bother me, I found myself growing more anxious as she was gone for almost the whole day. There was that faint tingling behind my neck again that always signaled that something terrible was going to happen. It was by sunset that I found her on the balcony, with the strong wind whipping around us, and I gasp audibly as I realize that she was standing again.
"Emilia! Oh goodness, Emilia, you're healed!" I cried happily, walking to her. But she did not turn to reply, not even bothered to look back. This surprise stopped me at a halt.
"Emilia?"
"Yes...I'm standing now." she said softly, and I could barely hear her with the strong winds. "Isn't it wonderful?"
"My queen...I'm so happy...come back inside, let's tell the others, we'll have a great feast for such a blessing...it's so windy out here, you might catch a cold..." I said needlessly, walking to her side and taking her hand. "Come, my love, let's go back inside."
She slapped my hand away, and I staggered back in surprise.
"Emilia?"
"You're happy, aren't you?" She whispered dangerously, and I could feel unusual hatred radiate from her slender form. "You finally got what you've always wanted, you never cared, all you wanted was to become happy!"
This certainly was not making sense. She knew exactly what I wanted, or so I thought, to be with her as much as possible...for she was a mere mortal after all, and forever is not attainable by the likes of her. So what was she trying to say?
"It's not that," I reply quietly. "Emilia, I always care. I've promised you as much, didn't I? And I'm happy just as long as you are, so what are you-"
"Shut up!" She screamed, and immediately I obeyed. "I don't want to hear any of it, it's driving me insane, leave me alone!"
And I caught a glimpse of her face.
Her hair was unruly, all over her tear-stained face. She had her hands over her ears, and she cried uncontrollably, and it ached me to just stand there without reaching out a consoling hand.
For a moment, everything was silent as our eyes locked onto each other. There were no winds blowing ferociously around us, and there were no footsteps ascending the stairs in a hurry behind me, and all I heard were the words that left her mouth.
"Solymr...help me."
I saw it coming, but I could have been too slow. Her knees buckled beneath her, the cripple was returning, it was a hoax, and if I didn't catch her she'd fall off the building--
"Emilia!" I cried, reaching out to grab her hand, but it was already too late. There was a dull thump when she had met the ground, and I couldn't bear to look, I just knew there would be blood and...my dear Emilia, sweet and gentle and fair Emilia, dead and lifeless beneath me!
I realized that I was screaming myself hoarse when the guards began pulling me away, and the servants came dashing out with worried expressions. Some had gasped and ran back down to check on their queen, to see if she could still be revived, but I knew it was all useless.
She always had said in the past how sometimes it would be easier to just die of her wound instead of living crippled for the rest of her life. But she would never throw her life away just like that- and though I knew it wasn't by Emilia's free will, that she was probably under a spell, the fact that she was gone still lay heavily in my heart.
I covered my eyes and leaned on my knees when I was seated where the guards had put me, and there was a steaming hot of tea in front of me, and plenty visitors had already arrived to pay respect and to offer comfort. But what good was that without her? I had always wondered what I would do if she was taken away from me- and hadn't she asked that question before? Though she had meant something along the lines of being taken alive, of course; and I had told her that I would follow her to the ends of the earth.
And then I knew what to do.
It's been a week after her death now, and still I have not found peace or at least a bit of reassurance. I have never felt so hollow in my life. Every night I would lie in her bed, my hands would involuntary reach out to where I imagined her hands to be in, balling it into a fist whenever I would remember that she wasn't there. I wasn't so sure if I wanted to do it, but it wasn't my choice. It wasn't for me. And there was nothing left, so what is the use?
And so now I've come to the end of this short manuscript, and for a while I stare blindly out the window. I had promised her that I would stay with her as long as she lived. But even now that she was dead, I wanted to keep that promise. She would like that.
And it is the least I can do to help her rest.
Solymr ibn Wali Barad