A/N: Hello, dear readers! Here's the latest update! I don't have much to say in this A/N, so...read, enjoy, and review!
Disclaimer: (engages in a staring contest with Disclaimer) ...
21) The Pure and the Tainted
"Tell me again why we are sending these messages. Does it really matter? I doubt they can read the Voice." Zahn said.
Zinneth hissed with impatience. "Of course it matters!" she exclaimed and paused in her writing. "My spies suspect that there might be someone in the Renais army that may be able to read the Voice. If we send them this message of forewarning, they will undoubtedly react to it. How they act will reveal how much they know about us."
"I told you Zinneth knew what she was doing!" Syn told the first head.
Zahn growled. "Do not use the tone with me or I will chew you off." He threatened.
"Fools!" Ryfon snarled at the other two heads. "Stop this bickering! A one headed gwyllgi is a poor leader. The others would issue a protest that will result in my exile."
Zinneth shook her head. She briefly wondered why she even bothered trying to talk with the gwyllgi general. The three headed demon canine frequently argued over everything. But she needed them to send a message. Ryfon-Zahn-Syn wouldn't personally deliver the message. But they would allow one of their expendable subjects take the letter to the humans. A mauthe doog was just as fast as a gargoyle. She didn't dare ask Pedirot; it would simply result in another argument that might leave the Council with one less general. And she definitely wasn't talking about herself.
She finished writing with one last curving stroke and let the dye dry. Zinneth washed her forefinger's nail, cleaning it of the staining dyes she had written with. She gestured to the piece of wood that had served as her parchment as she turned to the gwyllgi general.
"As I was saying, I would like to ask you if you would allow one of your kind to carry the message." She said, pinning the hellhound with her stare.
"I think it is a deviously wonderful idea." Syn said, growling with pleasure.
Zahn snorted. "I think it is preposterous idea! Wasting time simply to figure out if the little humans can read—ridiculous! Why do we not just attack them now?!"
"Ah, Zahn, you always were the dense one." Ryfon muttered. "Thalos said Bire and Farrik would attack on the days of the Red Moon Rising. That is not for a few days. Everything must be carefully planned if we wish to succeed. King Fomortiis was defeated by them, after all."
"Which brings me to my next question." Zahn replied. "If the almighty King was defeated, then who is to say Zinneth will not meet the same fate?"
Ryfon snarled fiercely at him. "Zinneth is all we have left of our King Fomortiis. She carries the last fragments of his magic, his soul. I suggest you keep your muzzle shut if you wish to live. Syn and I can cope without you just fine."
"'Fragments', Ryfon. You said she had fragments of his soul. King Fomortiis had his whole soul, and what good did that do for him, eh? He still was destroyed in the end. If she has less power than him, how are we to succeed at all?" Zahn pointed out, regardless of the ruby slits glaring at him with all the animosity they could muster.
"We learn from our mistakes, Zahn." Syn interjected before Ryfon or Zinneth did or said anything rash. "The King had few flaws and from those we can learn. We will not meet the same fate. We are stronger than those that came before us. We can overpower the humans. Thalos's kin will obliterate them. Zinneth's forces will stop them stone still." Syn seemed to chuckle here at his own joke. "And the rest of us will make sure none survive."
"I thought our objective was to avenge King Fomortiis. Why strain ourselves to slaughter the whole army?" Zahn asked in a confused grumble.
"Because, you dolt!" Zinneth snapped. "That infamous Prince Ephraim will want revenge for the deaths. He will not stop until our ash covers him like a winter cloak. Yes, our original plan was just to seek vengeance on those that begun and ended our King. But, after considering all factors, I have decided that we should pursue those that pose a threat to our existence."
"Very well," Zahn said grudgingly. "I see your logic."
"Good." Zinneth picked up the thin, smooth piece of wood. "Now, will you allow a servant of yours to take this message or not?"
Ryfon nodded. "Of course. I will send a messenger tonight, if it pleases you."
Zinneth smiled widely to reveal a serpent's fangs in her almost human-like face. "Yes, it pleases me much." She laughed, a cold hissing sound. "First we shall have our revenge. Then, to make an example of this, we shall obliterate the Renais Army and every noble blood in it. That would mean four kingdoms would be left without any rulers."
"Lute, I don't know what you have against Kayll, but it must stop now." He began calmly, placing his elbows on the desk.
"What I have against her? I think it's the other way around!" Lute exclaimed, feeling a rush of anger.
Ephraim looked at her evenly. "I do hope this is something bigger than boyfriend stealing. I honestly don't have time, especially now, to deal with that kind of pettiness."
Lute took a breath and released her surplus of rage in the exhale. "Prince Ephraim, I believe there is something more. I'm not sure what it is yet, but I believe Kayll can make certain . . . impressions upon people. On our way back to camp, Kayll seemed cold and indifferent . . . but only to me. Ewan, Saleh, Kyle, and Colm didn't seem to have a problem with her. Neither does Artur. In fact, he seems rather taken with her. Do you know what he said to me this morning? Do you?!"
Of course, Ephraim didn't know. He could see she was fit to burst and tried to approach this festering wound gently. "No, Lute, I don't know what he told you. You could tell me."
"He said I didn't need him and that he's come to terms with that! He said I didn't need to pretend for him!" she exclaimed. "Now, tell me, does that sound at all like Artur? Does it?!"
He sighed softly. "Lute . . . maybe what he says is true. I mean no offense, but you weren't exactly clear with him about what you wanted. He could have easily misread you and came to that conclusion. That doesn't mean Kayll has . . . influenced him in any way."
"But she has!" Lute insisted, rising to her feet. "He only acted like that after Kayll came! After he first saw her! She's brainwashed him!"
"How?" he asked quietly.
"She—" Her expression became doubtful. "She—she . . ." Lute huffed out a breath and plopped down on the chair. "All right, I don't know how—but she had to have! How else to you explain the drastic change in him?"
Ephraim regarded her carefully. She was in love, there was no doubt. She was protective of Artur, also no doubt in his mind about that. She obviously saw Kayll as a threat and therefore had intense hostility towards her. Artur, the poor young man, had no clue what was going on. He too had been infatuated. But perhaps he had grown weary of waiting and simply sought a reasonable solution. He had most likely chosen to forget about his previous besotted feelings and secluded his heart. There was innocence in his curiosity over the newcomer. Certainly it wouldn't develop into anything more than that. Ephraim wryly wondered why he seemed to play matchmaker more often than his sister.
"Lute, I think you should talk to Artur about this." He suggested. "There has been, quite obviously, much miscommunication. The only way to resolve that is to have everything out in the open. I can send for him and we can talk this through. Then, maybe, just maybe, we can have some peace of mind and focus on the important matters."
Lute's face became blank and she rose from her chair. "Oh, no, that's quite all right. You have a lot to figure out in a short amount of time, and I should probably meet up with the battle-ready team." She tried to make a break for the tent entrance.
"Lute. Sit. Down. Now." He said firmly in clipped tones.
She returned meekly to her seat and fiddled with her sleeve. "You really don't have to do this." She said quietly.
He sighed tiredly. "No, I probably don't, but I will. For the sake of the army and my own peace of mind, I will."
Ewan was passing by the prince's tent in hopes of meeting up with Master Saleh. He wanted to prove to him that he was just fine and didn't need the excessive concern his teacher seemed to force upon him. Instead, he heard Kayll before he saw her. Frankly, he was surprised. Since when did Kayll mutter aloud to herself? Or curse obscenities about Prince Ephraim under her breath? Or fume her anger—which he hadn't thought she possessed—in a verbal form? Or—there was a lot Ewan hadn't thought Kayll was capable of.
She was pacing in a secluded area between the tents, kicking at the dirt, a glare in her fiery eyes, fists clenched tight at her side. Her lips were moving rapidly and he could hear the muttering that spewed from her mouth. Except, there was one thing off about the whole scene other than the obvious. Ewan didn't think she was talking in a known language.
"Hello Kayll." He greeted as he approached.
Her mutterings immediately halted. Her back stiffened and she turned to him with a smoothed over face. "Oh, hello Ewan. I didn't notice you there."
He smiled at her crookedly with one raised brow. "Maybe because you were talking to yourself?" he suggested. "You know, they say that talking to oneself is one of the signs of insanity."
Her brows lifted slightly. "Oh, really? And where did you hear that?" she asked coolly.
He shrugged. "Oh, you know, around." He answered noncommittally. "What are you doing besides talking to yourself? Or don't you have anything to do other than entertain the voices in your head?" He chuckled to show he didn't mean any harm.
"Nothing. The voices in my head are very interesting, I'll have you know." There was a slight twitch at the corner of her mouth. Ewan could've sworn it was a small, miniscule, teeny-tiny smile. But that couldn't have been right. "And what are you doing besides creeping up on unsuspecting insane people?" she asked with a pointed look.
He regarded her warily. "Are you actually joking with me?" he said with evident disbelief and suspicion.
"No, I'm being completely serious with you."
"Oh, a little sarcastic, are we?" He grinned. "I didn't know you had it in you, Kayll. Here I'm thinking you're all gloom-and-doom, a frigid north wind, a block of ice, stern, silent almost to the point of scary."
She sniffed in an offended way. "Well, perhaps you don't know me as well as you though you did." With that she turned on her heel and stalked away from him.
One brow shot up in surprise. "I guess I didn't." he murmured to himself.
Ewan hurried after her. He walked backwards in front of her, trying to slow her escape. "Hey, whoa, wait a second. Did I actually offend you?" he asked with incredulity.
"What if you did?" she asked back coldly. "It wouldn't matter right? Because it all comes down to trust. And, apparently, when no one trusts you, they'll sit on their bottoms while their fellows are murdered."
"What?!" he exclaimed, stopping completely. "What are you talking about?!"
Kayll edged around him. "Nothing of concern!" she called back.
He ran after her again. "Wait!" he shouted. "Here I am, thinking I've broken the ice and are making you actually talk, and then you stomp away as Miss Gloom-and-Doom again. Do you have multiple personalities, by any chance? 'Cause, Lute told me you were actually friendly with Artur. I thought you told me you'd never change, not even for the sake of friendship. So what's this I hear about you being friendly with people?"
She stopped and looked him coldly in the eye. Ewan suppressed a shudder. "Simpletons cannot think beyond what they see first." Her ruby eyes were flinty and utterly void of emotion. Her face was tight with something that looked like disgust. And her hair fell around her in just the right way to give her an air of cold venom.
"S—So, it isn't true?" Ewan stammered out, feeling like he had been standing in several feet of snow. "Lute was wrong?"
Instead of answering him, she drew in a breath and looked at him calmly. "Do you trust me, Ewan?" Kayll asked quietly. He almost would have considered her tone soft. But she was about as soft as a bed of icicles.
"I . . . well . . . I—yeah, I do." He stuttered, certain that he had frostbite.
"You're a fool, Ewan." She whispered to him with an intense, narrowed look. She shoved past him, knocking her shoulder against his roughly. The contact sent a ripple through him and he felt cold. He had a sudden urge to sulk in his tent and forget her, but he muscled his way past it. He had no idea where the thought had come from. It certainly wasn't anything that he would do. Ewan shook his head as if to clear it of the strange idea. Then he ran after her again.
"Why do you say that?" he called to her as she rounded a corner.
But she didn't reply. He had a weird sense of déjà vu.
"Kayll!" he shouted after her. "Why would you say something like that? There must be a reason! Kayll!" He grabbed her arm. Again he felt an odd wave of depressing emotion sweep through him. He almost gasped from its intensity. For a moment he felt utterly and completely hopeless, as if he was drained of happiness. Again he pushed past it, but this time is seemed harder.
She turned to him, an almost sorrowful—regretful—look on her face. "I'm sorry Ewan." She said, sounding surprisingly sincere.
"What—?" But he didn't finish for darkness swooped down upon him and swept him away in its cold current.
"Prince Ephraim, what is this all about?" Artur asked as he entered the tent, a puzzled expression on his face.
"Please sit down, Artur." Ephraim replied, gesturing to the seat beside Lute. He rubbed his temples for a moment. Perhaps he should set up his own counseling for couples. "Lute, would you like to begin?"
"Me?" Her eyes widened. "What am I supposed to say?"
Ephraim waved his hand vaguely. "Anything. Or, how about you start at the beginning."
"Which would be . . . ?"
"How you feel . . . ?" Ephraim prompted.
Lute's expression hardened. "I'm sorry, Prince, but this simply isn't how I handle things." She said firmly.
"Then how do you handle things?" Ephraim asked exasperatedly.
"On my own." With that Lute stood and nodded to him. She walked out of the tent without a backward glance. The tent was silent for a long moment before being broken by Ephraim's weary sigh.
"I shouldn't have to deal with this." He groaned as he dropped his head into his hands. "A prince isn't meant to be everyone's therapist."
"Therapist?" Artur echoed confusedly. "Prince, what is this about? I'm afraid I'm lost."
"There's been a major . . . miscommunication. Lute has conflicting emotions about you and herself." Ephraim looked over at him. "Artur, do you realize what is going on here?"
The copper haired sage slowly shook his head. "No, Prince Ephraim, I don't."
"Not even a slim idea about what happened or has happened?"
"No . . ."
Ephraim released an exasperated sigh that sounded more like a groan. "I'm not cut out for this." He muttered under his breath while clutching at his head.
"Sire . . . ?"
The Prince collected himself and straightened in his chair. "Artur, what do you think about Lute? What do you feel about her?"
"About Lute?"
"Yes. About Lute. What do you feel towards her?" Ephraim repeated, growing a bit annoyed.
Artur gave him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Prince, but are you asking me if I love her?"
"More or less, yes, I am."
"Oh," His expression grew uncertain. He was quiet for several minutes. Ephraim wondered what inner struggle he was fighting, his irritation soon forgotten. The sage met his gaze. "I don't think I do, Prince Ephraim."
"You 'don't think you do'? It's a yes or no answer, Artur." He replied gently.
Artur bit his bottom lip and shook his head. "No, Prince Ephraim. I don't love her."
She saw his eyes roll back and quickly caught him before he fell to the ground. "I am sorry, Ewan. I didn't want to do this." Kayll whispered to his unconscious form. She hauled one arm over her shoulders and dragged him towards the medical tent. Fortunately, she didn't meet anyone on the way there, Saleh in particular. She saw his eyes roll back and quickly caught him before he fell to the ground. "I sorry, Ewan. I didn't want to do this." Kayll whispered to his unconscious form. She hauled one arm over her shoulders and dragged him towards the medical tent. Fortunately, she didn't meet anyone on the way there, Saleh in particular.
Too close, Ewan. As much as I want allies, you're too close. You're a tricky one to deal with. You both listen to your heart and think with a level head.
She glanced down at his scarlet head as it bumped against her shoulder as she walked. Her mouth curved into a slight frown.
What I told you was true. I can't change who I am. I know you want more than I'd ever be willing to give. I came here to give unfortunate, ignorant humans a warning, a lending hand. I didn't come here to make friends.
Kayll entered the medical tent and drew Moulder's attention. The priest frowned, helping her bear the young man's weight. Together they carried him to a cot.
"What happened to him?" Moulder asked as they settled him upon the small and simple makeshift bed.
"He tired himself out while practicing his magic. Apparently he hasn't fully recovered from his ordeal a week back." Kayll lied.
"Ah," the priest nodded in full understanding. "Eager young pup."
I need allies that will give me what I need: support and sway over other's doubts. You're eager to give that and more without my persuasion. But you wouldn't be the same as the others. They would side wholeheartedly with me no matter the circumstances. You would still have free will. A choice, despite your strong convictions. That's a danger to me.
"I think he'll be fine with a little rest." Moulder told her. "He's done this before. He rushes out, in spite of the consequences, and exhausts himself to the point of unconsciousness. I can't remember how many times Master Saleh has carried him in here." The older man shakes his head with mild amusement.
I don't have time to let everyone trust me of their own accord. It's easier this way. But . . . I don't want to take away your image of me. I don't want to replace that image with another one that will force you to see me as I want you to. What you see is the truth, completely and wholly.
"You can stay as long as you want." Moulder continued. "I don't know when he'll be around. It might be a few hours or maybe even a day or two. I had better tell Saleh what his former student has gotten himself into. He'll be vexed if he finds out by another means. Of course, Master Saleh isn't a violent man. Quite the opposite, I believe. But he'll be upset all the same."
And truth as pure as what you see—created by your own will without any outside influences—shouldn't be taken away. Despite my seemingly selfless attempts to save you and your companions, I'm selfish nevertheless. I want to cling to the truth, regardless of its repulsiveness. And the only way I can keep the truth is to keep you unblemished by my sway. But keeping you untouched will jeopardize my chances. I face a dilemma that I can't find the answer to.
"I'm going to find Saleh. The tent will be unmanned while I'm gone. Can you keep things under control while I'm away? I don't expect anything to happen, but if something does happen, can you try to find me so I may take care of it?" Moulder asked. "I could tell you hundreds of stories about practice mishaps. But I won't; I have to find Saleh, all right?"
Kayll nodded absently, not really hearing everything he had said. She watched him leave the tent. Kayll glanced around to find two people at the other end of the tent talking quietly. She ignored them. They weren't bothering her. She sat on an adjacent cot and watched Ewan silently. His chest rose gently, taking full, relaxed breaths. His innocent boyish face was completely void of any concern whatsoever. Ewan's crimson bangs hung over a braided leather headband she hadn't noticed before.
All right, I admit it; you've gotten under my guard. I didn't expect to find someone so . . . open, so honest, and so selfless. I don't know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't you. Needless to say you startled me. You looked so young when I found you on the plain. But I see I was wrong. You're wiser in ways I can't fathom—and I being near your age. Some may say you're just an "eager young pup", but they're wrong. Some may feel an excessive protectiveness around you, believing you can't take care of yourself, but they're wrong. Some may think you're a curious pest, but they're wrong.
Out of her own curiosity, she lifted one side of his tunic. His side was unmarred and smooth as if there had never been a stab wound. She smirked. Undoubtedly the priest and whoever had noticed had found her primitive methods repulsive.
Try sewing rotting flesh and you'll see how repulsive it really is. She thought grimly with a small shake of her head. She sat back on her cot and wondered how long it would take for Saleh to storm into the tent.
You're untainted, Ewan. In spite of the horrors you experienced in the War of the Stones, you haven't been touched by them. I hope you stay that way, innocent and pure. When you're tainted, you don't have hope for yourself. Being hopeless is something I never want you to experience. Trust me on this and only this.
With that Kayll stood, looking down at Ewan. She stood there a moment and then walked out of the tent wordlessly, not even glancing back.
A/N: Hee. A little taste of the real Kayll. What do you think? She'll eventually reveal her true self through a few chapters. And uh-oh. Artur what are you thinking?! But please don't hurt him in your reviews, okay? He's a fictional character that doesn't deserve to be beaten up by angry readers. I'll be posting a list of the fiends' names, rank, etc. so you don't get lost. Thanks. Now please review!