Chapter 7.0
Not my fault. How is this –NOT—my fault?
I stood there. Just staring, wearing the mask of a stone cold killer. Standing beside the self-appointed queen, doing absolutely nothing. I allowed the breeze to take any form of happiness and hope out of my soul and replaced it with bitter detest and suffering. I allowed the icy blue eyed man take away any choice of free will, and I allowed twenty four younglings lose their lives in order to save one man.
One man.
The life of one man. Was it worth it? Was anything I did now actually worth it? It's all going to have the same outcome. No matter what I do, say, or even trick people into believing, nothing has changed and every action that I have conducted has always come with something worse. Something that will never be forgiven.
I'm going to kill her. My last stand, it can't be now... it will have to be when I know there is no longer an option. When there is no longer any hope of this small curse to be lifted. Whether when written in history if it was an act of madness, revenge or even avenge that is for the historical writers to decide. It is also for them to decide if I would considered the hero guided by darkness, or the villain that was so corrupted that ran from the light.
It been hours since the bitter cold had caressed my bones, but the aching sorrow is still prevalent and true. By now the messengers were sent out, and my expected follow up to the beast was going to occur a lot faster than I am ready for.
I will never be ready for this.
We left the Winter Court in shambles. Crying out for a future, for their young, that were now gone... smiling at them despite their mourning. Unforgiveable. How many more will the court lose before the darkness corrupts them? When the fear, self-loathing, and utter shame replaces their will to fight, that's when. None of us will be the same. It always falls on the ones left behind.
Dying is easy. The hard part is still pushing on, continuing. This same song and dance I've recited to myself for years... How much longer am I prepared to combat it?
Velaris is safe. Unknown. This is all worth it. I have to continue to try.
"You know, you pacing back and forth, I'm afraid you have made a clean streak in your room, High Lord." A voice of a wraith rang through my ears. Cerridween, how long has she been observing me in silence without speaking a word? How much has she seen as I have been tearing myself apart in guilt and self-pity?
I glanced over at her, pondering for a second to respond back. The only physical response I could provide was the pacing to stop in my small darkened room. A single candle was lit to provide some form of light, however majority of the room remained in the shadows, allowing Cerridween to maintain her distance and her secluded safety.
"There's no one in the hallway, they're all attending Amarantha's meeting. Our dear High Lord was given some time to collect himself before taking himself to the Spring Court... Which," Nuala's voice rang out behind me, shutting the door lightly behind her, "You should be getting ready for..." a muted tone, as if not to inflict anymore pain into my bones.
"I'm afraid, he is not ready yet..."her twin replied back, as she scooted over on the small vanity, allowing Nuala to sit next to her on the frame. Two pairs of black eyes stared at me, not full of judgement or pity, but full of warmth and understanding. They were not going to push me out of the safety of my room, but they were here. Listening, watching... waiting for my breakdown to occur.
I had failed them. I had failed Velaris. I had failed my family. Most of all I had failed the Winter Court. To save a man, that wouldn't even realize what I had done for him. I wanted to tell him, by the cauldron, my whole body needed to tell him. But I could not.
I had to play the part. The prince of darkness, the man who kills out of spite and boredom and baths in the blood of his enemies. The man who smiles as shadows corrupt the light, allowing any resemblance of doubt be heightened and turned into terror. The man despite not looking the part that will never bow down and give up his home, nor his people. Clearly, the man I am not. Physically, I'm weak, without proper training I'm likely no longer able to fly a distance to clear my mind. And psychologically, hell I'm clinically insane, with hallucinations and all. I'm no longer fit to be a High Lord.
"Rhys..." a soft voice pushed into my train of thoughts. But that didn't help my now fast racing heart beat nor did I feel any kind of control at this time. It was all merely an illusion. I just needed out of this place and I needed out now, but there was no escape, nowhere to run. I was just here. Not knowing if that voice belonged to someone who was actually here, or hell if my hands would become a weapon against the two wraiths that had dedicated their life-at the moment-to make sure I didn't lose myself. I never asked them for this, nor did I feel the need. They put it on themselves for some reason.
Despite the fact that my pacing had stopped, we remained silent for a minute. The calm eerie shade of a fake night surrounded us. Without acknowledging the voice, I went out to my own fireplace and started to move around the sticks and disrupt the black carbon. Anything to keep my hands from shaking any more than they already were. I had failed them. Those younglings. Those who had yet witness the full extent of evil, but forced to face it alone, scared and without their parents guiding them to the light of their afterlife.
This busy work with my hands, was all I had at the moment. It wasn't much, but it was something in my control. It was my own form of breaking down. A high lord on his knees, in front of a fire place... how low have I become? I was placing myself deeper into my sorrows, doing anything to jolt me back, to feel alive. To feel something than this never ending anxiety, pain and misery I am now faced with every day. All I can do, is smile and act as if everything is okay. Despite my body and mind having completely other reactions to prove those words true. Sleep will not come to me tonight, which is a luxury I cannot afford at this time.
One stick, one piece of wood, move it out of the collected ash and place it to the side. No more than five pieces collected now, I know I have not burned that much logs lately, they had to be buried in this mess of ash of carbon... I just had to find them. I firm, yet gentle grip caressed my right wrist stopping my repetitive and tedious movement. A cold, small hand was found there.
"High Lord," the same soft voice, the one that paused my movement before. Kneeling beside me, Cerridween. Not a figment of my imagination, not my dead sister laughing at my demise nor the painter that I had latched onto for hope, someone real. Someone who was there, someone who had seen me clearly at my worse, beside me watching for me to break but yet willing to lift my back up when the time was necessary.
I knew she felt my elevated heartrate, but showed no signs of acknowledging it. Staring into her black eyes, she gave a half smile as her other hand lifted up surrounding us by her shadows that concealed the light, the ones the hide us from sight. I heard the rushing water from the sink, but could not tear my eyes away from the half wraith's face that sat in front of me.
Her face was that of one of understanding, yet yearning, as if she was watching for me to speak first. She was giving me this moment, even though small, knowing if anyone was to walk in they would only see Nuala who was cleaning a spot in the room in the far corner now waiting to make up some form of excuse for my absence.
I let out an exaggerated sigh, and fell onto my ass completely abandoning my attempt to clean the fire place. What more do these ladies expect from me? I have to act in the presence of those who live under the mountain, I have to act towards my own family that I am okay, I have to act that these actions of murder do not nag on my very own psyche.
"I'm sorry..." I murmured under my breath, "Just give me a minute, I'll be okay. I'll go to the beast with a smile on my face, and tell him that his time is up. That he is leaving us all to rot away in his stead. That all of us are suffering, as he gets to enjoy the sunlight and greens of his lands. That, even though given years, has still failed us all." I took a moment to contemplate my next words, then continued on, "I will kill her. I will give Nuala and you enough time to get out. To go home where you guys belong. Lower the shields just enough for Armen to break through, to let you guys back in and hopefully not escape herself. You two will be safe, I swear it. As soon as you guys are through-"
"Shhh." Cerridween hushed, stopping my words as she placed a finger on my lips to stop my speaking quickly removing it as soon as she placed it. "I didn't ask for any of that."
"Then, what do you want?!" I asked, my voice was higher and more aggressive than I had intended it to be.
She smiled as she let go of my wrist, and leaned back on her heels allowing her to get into a more relaxed position as she turned her attention to the whisking shadows that danced around us. Watching as the room was distorted in hues of blues and grays. "Do you remember Starfall? No the ones we all were forced here," She started as she started to move her shadows more around us, darkening our vision even more, "But the best one I remember with your family, was when you sister was still around. Cassian still trying to find his words with the ladies, Azriel still quiet as ever and collecting information when he was supposed to be enjoying himself?"
I listened to her and just nodded my head allowing her to continue.
"It wasn't just you who lost their family, Rhys. Despite all your guys' attention to detail, strength and cunningness, life still happened. And it made all of you then men you are today. They lost a sister that day, they lost a mother, and dare I say it a father a too." She paused as she turned her attention back to me, tilting her head to the side, "Remember what your sister always said? Even if she was not there, her spirit will always be if you just turn to the stars... oh what was that constellation called?"
I knew what she was doing, she was trying to distract me. Trying to garner my attention elsewhere. Anything to make me believe that this will all be worth it. To gather enough strength, courage to persevere because I'm not the only one that is stuck in this mess. Night Court was not the only one that was plagued, not the only one that had to face hardships... we were the only ones going to get the blame and she knew it. Armartha's now court was supposed to be modeled after the Court of Nightmares, but she forgot to address the Court of Dreams. Those, who despite the overwhelming darkness, would still find a way to bend and pull to become happy. To look upon the stars and find some resemblance of hope.
"Romy..." I stated, quietly and quickly.
Cerridween let out a laugh, uncontrolled for a second before she scoffed and hit the side of my rib cage lightly, "No you daft fool, that's what she used to call it as a child. She was a young lady that had actually learned how to say the name."
"Andromeda... the one named after the mortal galaxy." I stated as I leaned back onto my hands and corrupted her shadows a little more. Allowing speak of dirt and dust form light in the shadows to create an image of the stars we all have been loathing to see. I will the darkness to form into the constellations I wanted to see. First the great square of Pegasus, following behind it the distant view of a would be galaxy, then followed by Andromeda's chains then the constellation that would resemble Andromeda herself. A name that meant, 'to think like a man.' The constellation she was named after. Well at least her middle name. She always choose to be addressed by Romy or Mia... or simply just sister.
"The woman, whose beauty, had her tied to a rock and put into an impossible situation. Found light in a man that turned her would be husband into stone. Though she did not need saving, allowed others to do her work for her as she took the credit for it. Tricking people into believing she needed the help, accepting the help without any questions, and always a knife ready at a person's back in case it was needed." She paused for a moment as she glanced up at our makeshift starry night, "She wouldn't want you pondering, and thinking of the what ifs, and beating yourself down because something didn't go according to you grand scheme or plan."
We both sat in silence, staring up at stars enjoying our moment, though short lived. It is something. That distracted me long enough to regather myself, to calm down, to finally see a little clearer. "She was a shady little demon child, wasn't she?" I chuckled under my breath.
Cerridween nodded slightly, "She was, and as a daematri just like you she placed parts of herself in all our minds. Whether on purpose, or on accident when she was developing her powers, her hold and influence is still true. You were always smart, independent, and your judgement is seldom swayed through your feelings. But after her passing, especially during the dark times you have become more cunning, more willing to allow others take the fall for what you consider the greater good. A gray area, but something that you never willing learned. Not even from Azriel or us girls, no it has become a part of your personality. Like an inner turmoil that you no longer fight but just accept. And why neither one of us ever questioned you while you sit in silence, nor have an argument by yourself. Not a bad thing, High Lord, it's just nice to see there's something left."
"All this from a single constellation?" I mussed, lifting my eyebrow and staring at her with a side glance.
She let out a small chuckle, as she ran her small fingers through her dark hair, "It's the nicest way of saying you're not crazy, Rhys. Armen said it was possible, and until now I didn't believe her words."
Opening my mouth to respond, a splash of water on my face made me lose my train of thought. The second set of black eyes stared back at me, however this set had a hint of humor laced behind them.
"How you get so much soot and carbon on your face while working a short amount of time, I will never know High Lord. No wonder you're never trusted to clean up after yourself." Nuala mused as the warm washcloth in her hand lightly pressed against my face.
Their distraction was enough. It was always enough. They never flat out told me I was wrong, to not feel a way I did. They always just mused and embraced me out of my darkness. Showing me, as I had shown them years ago, that not all darkness was evil and tormented. They were members of the Court of Dreams, though meant to do bad things, spread lies and misery of their own, would always resort back to the darkness that provides comfort and loving. The darkness that I, if not guided, would have forgotten about years ago. I would have already been lost, tangled up with pale legs of a red headed demon and killing without any remorse.
They wanted me to hold onto the guilt, but accept the world of gray. That everything we do here is not only for us. It's for the Night Court, it's for Velaris... Furthermore, it's for every court that has fallen into misery, even if that makes my court the enemy in the eyes of others.
"It isn't your fault, you know..." Nuala began, motioning her attention to my hands as she started to scrub away, "...You had no idea what she was going to do, you made a choice and we all have to live with it. You made the right one, Rhys." She stopped for a moment as she looked at her sister.
Cerridween nodded, "We respect you for it. Everything you did, and didn't do. But now we need you more than ever...Don't fuck it up. Don't lose yourself too much. That ray of hope, you will see her tomorrow... if you forget everything else, don't forget what you're fighting for."
They noticed the pull, if nothing else infatuation. I had no other words to describe it, to acknowledge it other than it was just there. I couldn't describe it, the dreams, the visions, and the unnecessary pull to a mortal. She was not even a half breed. Just a painter, a hunter that was thrown into a world that wasn't her own.
"If you must, find a way to let her go. She does not need to be part of this... Despite the deal that Armarantha has made for a false hope of freedom... This is our fight, not hers. Don't let your coconscious play games on you... find a replacement for her. One that you can save, that your own feelings won't get in the way of how to play the game." Cerridween stated, firmly as her sister finished cleaning my hands.
"When you wake up in the morning, you will have a lot have your abilities back. Embrace them. Make her scared, make her lie... but don't take away your light." Nuala mussed as she finished, wiping the rest of my hand clean.
The girls then stood to their feet, Cerridween taking away the safety of darkness that engulfed us and the half wraiths pulled me up my forearms making me stand on my own two feet once again. Despite Nuala's cleaning, dirt and soot still plastered my legs but without pressuring her to clean anymore I motioned my hand to do the last little bit of cleaning.
The two, quickly and quietly started to head for the door, to allow the uncontrollable exhaustion overtake what was left of me. "You will do great, High Lord." Cerridween stated as she allowed Naula to exit the room first, allowing her to make eye contact one last time.
"Thank you..." I said, almost muted. But in the silence of the dark room, I knew she had heard my voice just fine.
She bowed her head, returning her gaze with a sinister, dare I say almost feline to match my own, "We're here for you, High Lord. You'll do the right thing."
I scoffed, "You two are trying to make me more like you, aren't you?
She paused for a moment, her fingers lightly tapping on the frame. "No, Rhys..." she looked at me, her black eyes ripping through my very soul whatever I had left of course, "We're just helping you wake up, and here to keep reminding you that everything will be okay. It will be all worth it."
I shook my head, my hand running through my own dark locks in agitation, "I don't see how, Cerridween. None of this makes sense."
She bowed her head one last time, "It doesn't have to make sense; the cauldron surprises us all in ways we will never expect it to. And honestly, the little painter of yours is the missing link... though I'm not sure how she connects to all of this yet." She let out a sigh and chuckled, "I'm sure you'll figure it out, get some sleep High Lord... You're going to need it."
And that was all she said. Her form was engulfed with shadows and the door silently shut. Leaving me by myself, with the warmth of my own darkness comforting me. There was no longer a need to fight it. I found my place on top of the large, musky smelling bed and let the night take me.
((((Xxxxxxxxx)))))
And there we go... Set up for wonderful spring court next chapter. His story, I swear is not all dark, depressing and full of angst I'm trying to blend happiness somewhere into it... But it's a lot harder than I had initially planned. To be honest I may do another random one shot to get some happy writing happening... But this first book... Gosh it's full of so much unhappiness, guilt and self loathing it proving difficult to give him a ray of hope anywhere while dealing with traits of trauma, PTSD and personal loathing of his actions and inactions...
Let me know how I'm doing and as always everyone have a wonderful day!