The corridor was long. Exceptionally long. How long had I been walking? Six minutes? Twelve hours? Three Years? I didn't know.
The windows weren't windows, they were bare holes paned with glass, looking into nothing. No help there. Torches were occasional and infrequent, but it never became dark despite this.
Holy Light help me…
Is that…a room? I reach for the knob but the door swings wide before I made contact. A bedroom.
A girl stood there, looking back at me confused. I cocked my head; she did too. Plain brown hair hanging just past her slender shoulders, pink skin glowing in firelight – oh, there's a hearth to my left. The girl looked back at me. What is she waiting for, I wonder? She seemed so young. How old was I? Why was she silent? I stepped towards her, noting her reflected mimicry in my movements- oh, it's a mirror. That's me. Approaching the glass, I raised my hand to touch it. Cold, icy and frozen in fact despite the healthy fire nearby. My breath clouded it until I could not see my reflection any more. Disappointedly I dropped my hand and stared at the fog.
"There you are, I was wondering when you would show," I heard. Turning to the bed, I identified a man sitting upon it, one ankle resting upon a knee, peering at me with unhidden curiosity and mischief. His hair was a messy chin length and a faint beard was present on his chin and jawline. I would recognise that knowing smile anywhere.
"Hello, Edmund," I reply calmly. His boyish grin widened. Standing tall, he crossed the room to appear before me, I could smell the scent of leather and masculinity.
No! Please! Stop!
"I've been waiting for you," he stated looking down at me. Those dark eyes, I had missed them fiercely. So many messages passed between our connected gazes, aeons of untold words communicated in moments.
"Why?" my voice was scarce above a whisper.
"Because I love you, you silly woman." My heart gave four loud beats. The answer was simple.
"I know, and I you," I told him without shame or regret. Leaning forward, his lips touched my forehead, calloused hands delicately holding my face.
"Sit down," an arm held wide indicated two seats beside the fireplace, previously unnoticed or simply not there upon my entry. I sat on the left one.
We stared at each other, drinking in the presence of the one we had not seen in so long. He hadn't changed from my memories at all. His clothes were a little shoddy but hung well on him. His boots, calf-high and black-leathered as scuffed as when I last saw him. His weskit buttons were all done up save for the top one, and his shirt remained loosely laced around his throat. It was easy to see him as a man now, not just my mentor and saviour. How could I have not noticed it before?
"You're confused."
"A simple deduction really, Edmund. Where are we? Why am I here?"
"I don't know and I'm not sure. But you are. And here am I also. Isn't that all that matters?" His voice, so gruff but used so softly. His focus on me never wavered, nor did I want it to. I didn't feel uncomfortable under his gaze. No, I felt empowered, wanted.
"Yes, I suppose so." Silence fell over us again, but not awkwardly so. Time passed.
I can't-! Eaaarugh! NO! Help!
I turned my head, what was that noise…?
"You were here before, don't you remember?" Edmund spoke quickly, gaining my full attention.
"I was? When?"
"Look around, does this not look familiar?" The fireplace disappeared, but the light of it remained. The cloudy mirror was no longer there, but beneath its vacated space sat a plain, wooden desk. There were two drawers, one filled with parchment and writing utensils. The other housed my bits-and-bobs, my small clutter of buttons, ribbons, baubles and more. I knew if I opened it, I would see a red stone resting in the centre of the odds-and-ends.
The cot beside it was made neat and straight. A hard mattress with a threadbare coverlet and sheet. The pillow was horrid to sleep upon unless folded onto itself for sheer bulk. A rickety cupboard behind me would contain my outer cloak, novice robes and my most recent purchase; a leather apron for my alchemic work. Perhaps even my sturdy boots would be resting on the wardrobe floor. The floorboards would be cold should I walk on it with my feet alone, and looking out of the darkened window, I knew I would see a courtyard of stone and garden. The dock bells would echo in the distance.
"My bedroom from the convent." Edmund nodded.
"You came here before, we spoke at length."
"What about?"
"This and that, alchemy, life, herbs and flowers. Mort, our travels."
"Oh. No, I don't remember. When was this?"
"Oh, some time ago now," he waved his hand dismissively. "What matters is that you're here now," he smiled again. Love filled me, how I had missed him! I smiled widely.
S-stop…please…I-…Urgh! NO! I beg of you!
I felt a nipping pain on my thigh. Looking down, I couldn't see any visible injury or wound. I ignored it.
"Where have you been?" I asked of him.
"Searching for you," came his immediate reply.
"How did you find me?"
"I didn't, you found me this time."
"This time?"
"Yes. I found you the first time. It was a brief reunion but I would give my life for it to see you once more. You are here now, so I do not have to and that is what matters."
Someone…please…help me…
There it was again. "Do you hear something?" I asked of the man opposite me. He shook his head, his overgrown fringe falling into his eyes. I wanted to brush it aside.
"No, but you will. It will probably become louder."
"Oh. Why?" Another sharp pain assaulted my body, this time in my abdomen. Cramps? No, they were more prolonged, this- this was a fleeting pain. Again, no wound or injury gave any indication of my being hurt. Frowning, I cautiously dismissed it again.
"It's just how it works, apparently."
"How what works?"
"This," he waved his hand around, indicating my bedroom. The fireplace had morphed back in front of us now. "Read that book, it will explain it." He pointed to my lap where Alchemical Fundamentals- Nature and the Universe rest upon my knees. I didn't recognise the title cover, nor the binding. There was no author. It was a large book, but it possessed no weight. I opened the cover. Contents and chapter titles greeted me, going on for several pages.
"How will this explain it Edmund? This is about the cycle of life and death," I asked exasperatedly.
No!
The screech echoed this time from far down the hallway of which I had walked. Whipping my head to the door, I saw it was shut tight. The scream had been crystal clear and terrifyingly close.
"Read the book, Cersae. You made it about a quarter of the way last time."
"I've read this before?" My memory failed to provide me with anything to confirm or deny this.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because it will answer your questions." Taking his word, I began to read. Biology, science and spirituality all intertwined in the first chapters. How life begins, the theories on reproduction and creation. Soon I read about aging processes. The growth and decay of body, skin and thoughts in a continual cycle. Edmund remained silent in his chair, leaning back and watching me. I didn't mind. Soon I reached chapters concerning decline and finality.
"Edmund, why would reading a book about life and death explain this to me? Why can I not just talk with you?" I sighed, closing the book. He smiled, steepling his hands beneath his chin.
"Oh, my darling, you will never change." He vacated his chair and knelt in front of me. I smiled at him, placing the tome on the floor. Two hands sat upon my knees, thumbs rubbing them softly. My fingers entwined into his hair at the base of his neck. Our foreheads touched.
"My woman," he kissed my forehead again. "My delight," he pecked my nose. "My phantom," his lips brushed mine. Wait, what?
"Phantom?" I sat back, my hands falling to hold his arms. "Why a phantom?" I demanded to know.
Aaauuurgh!
The guttural cry pierced the quiet of the room, shuddering everything around. The windows smashed and the desk became upturned. My ears rang for an age, the torment and despair of the scream still shaking my very core. Terrified I looked to Edmund for comfort and reassurance only to see that he remained unaffected by the howl. Instead, ignoring my distress, he reached forth and held a lock of my hair in his hands. Horrified by his lack of concern, I followed his gaze to the hair and my heart stopped beating.
Why was the tress snow-white?
"You are a phantom, my love, because you are no longer alive. You were frozen in time, in your body, unaging and unfeeling. But now," he nodded to my chest. Looking down I cried out as I saw a blade hilt resting in my ribcage. "Now, you are dying rightly and naturally and that is all that matters," he spoke.
I couldn't move. My limbs were frozen, my scream unheard and in vain. Nobody witnessed my grief, my pain or my terror. Nothing staunched the blood pouring from my leg, gut and chest. Edmund became bathed in the red of my life's force all the while unmoving in the wake of my death. His expression spake of his love for me, but nothing more. He didn't help me. He couldn't, I realised. There was nothing he could do, because he was not real. Tears flooded my vision as I realised that nothing and no one could save me.
I opened my eyes and could not make sense. The figures neared me again, their runed swords glowing in the foggy distance.
Pain and hurt. Hurt and agony. Agony and pain.
Had I died yet?
"You dare betray the King? How foolish you are traitor," the echoed voice laughed. The blue-flaming eyes of an undead horror jeered at me. His arm raised high. "The Lich King does not forgive."
The Knight ignored my weak protest and plunged the blade deep into my corpse.