After Dawn
I am SO unbelieveably sorry for the wait. It was really hard to write this and also our internet crashed and we had to wipe our computer (Grrr) I am sorry about this chapter as well. It is really bad and it reflects on a bad mood I was in at the time.Enjoy!
Chapter 5:
Numair rode to Corus quickly. He chose to go to the Riders because that was where Daine worked. Once there, he regretted it immediately. Everyone there knew about him, Eti and Daine; they all seemed to know something he didn't.
Finally he found someone who told him where Daine was buried. It was out, near the undine pool. He had only been there with Daine twice since their first time there. Once before they went to Carthak and another time after they had fought.
His heart ached. He looked at the grave and finally sat in front of it. It was a very plain headstone. It was made of granite and had very little on it:
Daine Sarrasri
Wild Mage of Tortall
Then followed her birth and death years. At first Numair felt slightly put out at how ordinary it was. but then he realised it was his Magelets. She didn't like all the fancy get up. He heard a horse whinny behind him.
He spun, quite an odd contortion in the sitting giant. It was Darkmoon, with Alanna of Trebond sitting atop him. He could see, even ten metres away that her eyes were red from weeping and she looked like someone who had been mourning the girl quite badly. Her black clothes did not help her complexion and her red, shoulder length hair was dull and matted.
"I take it you've met Eti?" she said dully.
"What makes you think that?" he responded, his voice emotionless.
"You haven't been to Corus for nine years and there is no way you could have heard about… her, unless the girl told you. So have you met her?" Her anger with him was crystal clear.
Numair nodded. 'Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't anyone tell me?"
She looked disgusted and dismounted slowly. "Why should we have told you? The child may be yours biologically but you aren't her father. You don't care a whit for her or Daine. You were only interested in the sex. She was innocent and you, and you," She couldn't continue for her anger was getting out of control. She breathed hard. "Do you know how she died, Draper?" She was furious. She only called him that when she hated him. "Do you?"
He shook his head. "No-one will tell me anything. No-one will talk to me."
"I don't blame them, Draper. She died, not by physical means. She should have been healthy. She died, calling out for you. She has not cried a single tear since you left. Not one. That is not healthy. But she was sobbing. She was in delirium. She, she didn't die because she was unhealthy. She especially didn't die because she was old. Numair, if there is such thing, she died of a broken heart. She never got over you. She could barely look at Eti. She became a ghost.
"Why did you do that? Why did you leave her? You loved her. Love doesn't end overnight.
"She died of a broken heart Numair. And I hate you for it. You killed her Draper. And nothing can ever change that." Then, she strode up to him and slapped him in the face, harder than anyone had ever done. Then because the lady knight was weeping, she swung up onto Darkmoon and galloped off.
Numair was left, sitting in the snow. Him? He had killed Daine? No, that wasn't possible. Wasn't it? It was highly likely. The few times he had seen Daine before he had left with his wife, she had seemed to be slowly fading away. She was paler, her eyes and hair were dull. She had dark bags and crows feet on her eyes. Her eyes were full of pain and sadness. She had seemed to age ten years in a few months.
"Mithros what have I done?" He put his head in his hands. The heels of his palms dug into his eyes. He felt cold tears on his hands. The icy winter winds raced around him. He slowly curled up in front of the headstone and cried. Numair was in so much pain and swallowed by grief. Numair Salmalín had not cried for a very long time. He was too proud. But here he was, crying as if the world had ended.
He wasn't sure how long he cried, but, when he stopped it was dark and his head pounded. The snow around him had piled higher and he was surprised he didn't have frostbite. He pulled his knees to his chest and whispered "Oh Daine. What have I done? How could I do this to you? I never stopped loving you. Instead, I was selfish and, now you're gone. Mithros, please kill me." He begged.
But he knew Mithros never took lives. Not even when they were threatening the well-being the universe, as Ozorne had done.
Then Numair made a decision.
Slowly, the mage got up. He then began the longest, most trying trek he had ever done. He walked for days, without stopping once. Then he reached the spot. It was the perfect place for him. It was covered in blizzards all winter and was probably the most dangerous place in Tortall. He found the cave quickly. He and Daine had spent a few nights there once, but it had been summer, so the weather was lovely. Now, it was half buried under sleet and snow.
He walked to the back of the cave and sat down.
He went over his thoughts. Did he really want to do this? Yes. He had to punish himself. He had killed Daine. Now it was his turn.
He reached into his belt and grabbed his prized dagger. It was finer than anything Raven Armouries had made. His late father had given it to him as a boy, but Numair had never used it. But, just in case, the blade was polished and sharpened so that it was lethal. It had a ruby pommel and was made of the purest white gold. The blade was made of the finest Yamani steel and would cost a lesser noble a year's income to buy one. Numair had two and they were family heirlooms.
Slowly, Numair rolled back his sleeves, revealing scars from his teenage years. They were all perfectly aligned and parallel. He held the knife firmly and, with a trembling hand, he pressed it firmly to his wrist. He called magic to stop him feeling anything. If the pain was too much, he would stop, and he didn't want that. He pressed it harder and harder until he was sure he had reached an artery. Then he did the same to the other arm. He smiled an insane and smug smile as he watched his blood pour out of his arms. It was almost relaxing. He knew that people looked down on suicide but, they looked down on him anyway.
He then got his magic and put a charm on himself to make his fall asleep. Within a minute Numair Salmalín was asleep, never to wake again.
Eti sat up in the strange bed, disoriented. Her heart was pounding and sweating was pouring off her, despite the frigid air surrounding the bed. She had never been one to have connections with people, but somehow, in her heart, she knew that Salmalín was dead. Her father was dead. Her father was dead. It echoed in her mind.
Serine wouldn't allow her to stay here anymore. Serine had been less than happy when Numair had insisted that his daughter stay here.
So, lethargically, Eti got up from her bed. She walked over to the large window. It could probably fit her through it, in human form. She glanced over at her saddle bags. She wouldn't need them. She opened the window and climbed onto the window sill. The snow and wind played with the nightdress Master Salmalín had given her, and she would have giggled, had this been ordinary circumstances. But the circumstances weren't ordinary.
She released hold of the window and she fell down. The ground was so far away; she was in a tower. She was about halfway down when her mind took over. Her arms slowly turned into wings, her body grew feathers. She was less than ten feet from the ground when she was fully eagle. She spread her wings and swooped up into the sky. The snow was falling steadily, but it wasn't too windy. It wasn't dangerous to be flying. What could she do now?
She had always wanted to see the Yamani Islands. She could start a new life there.
Ten Years later: Eti Salmalín died. She was an insane recluse, living in the mountains of the Yamani Islands. The death of her parents had driven her to insanity. She was self sufficient but, she still died of unknown reasons. Soldiers discovered the 21 year old, dead on the floor of her hut, completely alone.
In Tortall: When summer arrived in Tortall, some children were exploring some caves when the discovered the body of a large man. He was later identified as Numair Salmalín and was buried by his beloved.
In Kantoá: Serine re-married. She didn't really care about Numair. Just his money and power. But, Salmalín left her and the children no money, to her great displeasure. He had left it to the riders.
That was the end of the Wildmage and her legacy.
Should I end it like that? It was meant to be very different, but…
Tell me please. And, as I always sat: NO FLAMES PLEASE!