Responses:
Fluffy-bubbles: so many questions! *smile* let's see if I can answer them all. Hmmm…wow, jon going nuts and using the dominion jewel to destroy the world is a great idea for a fic, but that's not what happens here. Jon is not the evil mage. Neither is kaddar. And I have not seen tuck everlasting, so I can't answer the question "r u trying a tuck everlasting meet TP". nope, I have not forgotten about shinko, roald's wife. And what happened to the jewel? For the sake of keeping this fic from going haywire with complications, I'm just going to say it was destroyed during the Devastation. And although Roald does have an important role (he'll be helping Kaprice out later), to say that he was 'chosen by the gods' like Kaprice was…is not exactly correct. I hope that answers all of our questions, if you have more, just ask away in your next review.
PenMage: I would gladly help you with the action segments of your fic (although I can't say I'm an expert at that kind of stuff), but I don't have your email! Or screenname, or etc! so in your next review, leave your email/aim/msn thing, so we can talk and conspire about your fic. (I don't have ICQ)
here's how to make things in your profile italicized/bolded. Put a I and then put the stuff you want in italics here. And when your finished, put a /I. And that last thing will end the italics. If u want it bold, put a b and then put the text u want bold here and then put a /b. hope that helps. :)
Queen Frosteen: there were immortals who perished during the devastaion, and there were those who were able to return to the Realm of the Gods with their lives in tact. Very, very few immortals remain in the desert. And they are rarely seen by the tribes.
Big Blue: my story makes sense? Yay!
Rya: I'm glad u like the fic, and I am trying to make them longer, I am! Really!
Warning, Warning: once again, this chapter is solely Kaprice's view. (but what about Ryker? Where'd he go?)
10. Impossible Death
Kaprice pushed away her plate, finally finished.
"Good?"
Kaprice smiled. "Very."
Roald nodded. "Good."
Kaprice watched Roald as he approached her. He knelt over her sitting form and motioned for her to lower the shoulder of her robe. After she had done so, he carefully unwound her bandages.
She shivered when his cool fingertips touched her warm shoulder.
"No infection," he said after a moment. "which is extremely lucky for you, considering how it had remained uncleaned for almost a whole day," he said with a reproving tone of voice.
"There was no time," she said defensively. Not to mention how it had made her slightly sick just looking at it.
"As long as you aren't too rough with your shoulder, it'll heal soon." He glanced up at her. "But it will leave a scar."
She gave an indifferent shrug. "Then I'll have a matching pair. A physical scar of the event to go with the emotional one."
"What happened?" he asked her softly.
She turned away, jerking her robe back into place as soon as he had finished wrapping the bandages back around her shoulder. "None of your business."
He sat down in front of her. "Sharing may help to heal the emotional scar that you say you have--"
"All right, then," she interrupted, "you first. Why are you so bitter about being alive?"
Roald flinched, and it was is if her words had slapped him in the face. He looked away.
"Yeah. That's what I thought." But she didn't feel as triumphant as she sounded.
Roald turned to look at her again. "Fine then. Why don't we make a deal? I tell you my story and then you tell me yours," he challenged her.
This time she turned away.
He must have seen some look on her face, because he was immediately there. He leaned toward her and bent his head at an angle from which he could see her eyes. "I'm sorry, Kaprice," he said quietly. "You don't need to tell me if you don't want to."
He smiled when he saw her look of surprise at his apology. "I'm really not as arrogantly mean as one would expect a prin--" He came to an abrupt stop.
"What?"
He shook his head. "Never mind."
There was a short silence.
"Do you ever wonder," Roald said contemplatively, "if life is playing a trick on you? Perhaps even standing behind a tree a couple feet away and laughing at your misfortune?"
She glanced up and exaggeratedly pretended to peer behind a tree that was nearby.
Roald laughed. And although it wasn't seductive as Ryker's was, it was pleasant all the same.
"Do you ever wonder about why what happened in the past had to happen to you? Why you were the lucky one to be cursed with misfortune? Misfortune that was so horrible that you started to find death appealing?"
"Death does look prettier than life at times." she admitted. "But death isn't the answer."
Roald's blue eyes were sad. "But at least, for you, it's still an available option."
She blinked. "What?"
"Kaprice, I am ninety-two years old."
Her mouth dropped open. "Well. You age real well for nearly being a century years old," she managed to say.
He gave her a smile that wasn't in the least bit happy. "But that's the problem. I don't age."
She managed to keep her mouth closed this time.
"In body, I remain twenty-two years old. The age I was before the Devastation."
So he was from before the time of the Devastation. The myths about the Wanderer weren't completely wrong after all.
"I'm not completely sure why, but my body has not changed a bit in the last seventy years. I don't age. Wounds get healed in seconds. I don't need to eat. My body refuses to die."
"But if you don't need to eat, why do you still have food and utensils in your tent?" she pointed out.
"I like to eat sometimes. It reminds me of my past…when I was more human." His eyes got a far off look. "Sometimes, the memories of my past are so clear that I wake in the morning, believing that I am in my bed, in my home, in Tortall. But then I glance around and remember…Tortall, my home, everything is gone now. And then there are days when I can barely remember anything. Not the faces of my family, not the names of my friends." He closed his eyes. "It would have been better to die with everyone else during the Devastation than even attempt to live like this by myself." Just from the tone of his voice, she was able to tell that he was remembering the painful memories of his past.
"But why are you cursed like this?" she asked him softly.
He opened his eyes. "It has something to do with this ring." He held up right hand. On his ring finger, he wore a gold ring. The ring had intricate designs all over its band, and in the center there was a shiny black stone. "It belonged to the mage who was responsible for the Devastation." There was an undercurrent of anger as he spoke. "The ring chooses it's bearers. After the mage died, it chose me."
Kaprice immediately pulled away from his hand. "Why don't you take the damn thing off?" There was something disturbing about the ring. It seemed to pulse with a life of its own. And every once in awhile, she saw crackles of sickly yellow power glinting over the black stone.
"I've tried to. It won't budge."
She shivered.
Roald leapt to his feet, quickly grabbing a blanket. "Are you cold?"
He settled the blanket around her shoulders, being especially careful with her injured one. "It's late. We should both get some sleep."
He offered her a hand, but she refused it. She was a big girl. She could stand up all by herself. But she smiled her thanks. Roald was going out of his way to take care of her.
"I'll sleep outside, you can stay in the tent. It'll be warmer in there."
"That really isn't necessary. You could take your tent and I could stay outside," she protested.
He smiled at her. "I can't die, remember? So, while you can get sick, I can't. I'll sleep outside."
He refused to listen to any more of her protests.
"Roald! Why are you being so nice to me?" she finally asked, exasperated. "I can take care of myself. I have for most of my life."
"Then, perhaps, it's time to let someone else do it for a change."
She stared at him suspiciously. Was he for real? But Roald's face was earnest and sincere. "Well, then, I should warn you that there are members of my tribe who are probably wandering the desert searching for me."
"Not to worry. No one will be able to find this oasis," he said confidently. He pushed her toward the open flap of the tent.
With an exaggerated sigh, she entered the tent and settled into the bedroll that was inside. She heard Roald doing the same right outside the tent.
"Roald?" she called out hesitantly.
"Yes?"
She paused, uncertain what to say. Should she thank him again? He had done a lot for her…
"Kaprice?" he questioned.
"Never mind," she said, her throat dry. "It's nothing."
A.N. - there, we got to learn more about Roald and his strange situation.
No Ryker in this chapter (or the next). As a matter of fact, he won't even be mentioned again until chapter…14.
Did u still have questions about Roald? Leave them in a review and I'll try my best to answer them without giving anything away.
Well, tell me what you thought of this chapter: review!
~krizsta